Dysfunctional Government

Is the Constitution of the United States beyond its sell by date? Americans are educated to believe that ours is the best document of its kind ever written. It has been adaptable to change and at the same time sustained our stability so that the United States of America was able to become the most powerful country in the world.

The document was written within a great context of compromise. A belief that there needed to be a foundation upon which 13 very different and sometimes disparate states could agree to be 'one among many': E pluribus unum. The document is a testament to the complexity of simplicity. It is also an example of the over-riding desire of the Founding Fathers to correct the inequities of English parliamentary government. It's success at this is the Constitution's strength and its weakness. So intent were its authors to limit the power of government that it has encouraged the ability of opposition parties to overcome the wishes of the majority as a policy for regaining power.

Within the framework of the Constitution there are mechanisms present to correct its inadequacies. I believe it is time to seriously consider extending the period members of the House of Representatives are elected to serve. I believe it is also time to consider extending the length of a Presidential term to at least 5 years. Another consideration should be whether it is advisable to relect the entire House in one election. I don't have an opinion on that, but think it should be questioned and debated. And fillibustering is not democratic no matter which party is doing it. It enables the will of the majority to be circumvented and stymied; it can make and has made a government by the people and for the people impossible to achieve.

It is not healthy for the country to be thrust into political maneuvering and posturing so soon and so often that the business of governning becomes impossible. In the 21st Century it is a fact that constant media speculation about future elections does not encourage positive government. It is a great inhibitor, a negative influence that harms the nation and discourages its people.

There have always been charlatans in the halls of power. Whatever amendments may made to our Constitution these charlatans will still be found trying to bend the powers that be to their will. But I believe that by giving our legislators more room to breath we will enable government to be more reflective as well as effective.

The Hairdryer's behind the Chainsaw: Apt to Get to Italy

Gosh this travel log is taking me forever. I'm just leaving Apt -- why didn't I take any pictures -- I am definitely losing marbles -- I could swear I remember taking some from the parking lot -- but, nope, I didn't ... I should mention that before leaving the hotel, I decided to part with 8 euros and have some breakfast -- and I'm glad I did, it was yummy and tres continental -- good pot of tea, gorgeous warm freshly baked bread with apricot jam and perfect croissant. I managed to clumsily turn over the orange juice, and the lady in charge very kindly took it away and brought be a fresh tray -- she'd struck me as being on the grumpy side of 'ok', but in fact was very sweet and not at all admonishing and I happily continued to yum away. In the meantime Neil cleared the room, packed the car and went off for the nearby bakery.

So, fresh loaf of Sunday bread in hand for lunch, we headed toward the motorway for a brief ride -- we were heading for Gap. Somehow at the end of the motorway we turned off too soon and were soon heading off in the wrong direction. I had seen a lake on the map and our planned route would have taken us east from Gap and onto a road that bordered the lake -- it had promised to be a pretty drive. Now having seen some pictures of Gap, I'm sorry we didn't have a look around, but we did come upon a very pleasant and interesting surprise.

We could see on our map a road connecting to the road we wanted to be on after leaving Gap, and thinking we were upon that turning turned off and headed for it! The way was winding and desolate and the views began to be rather spectacular and we could see off in the distance that we were approaching what appeared to be a dam. And indeed it was the Barrage de Serre Poncon. What a spectacular surprise! As usualy, the French had done a fantastic job with their visitor center and there were informative glass panels in many languages explaining the how, whens and wheres and history of the scene we were observing. It is a very impressive hydro-electric dam which supplies 10% of France's hydro-electric output!

Having waited several extra minutes for a school of motorcyclists to pass through -- there must have been at least a hundred of them -- we set off down the other side of the dam a towards a hopeful rendez-vous with lunch alongside the lake and once more on our planned route. We found a lovely little spot to pull over and enjoyed our repast while watching the sailing school in the distance, just outside Savines-le-Lac, one of the villages re-sited when the valley was flooded and the lake was made. In the middle of the lake is an island withh a small chapel that is all that remains of this village -- the chapel once stood atop a hill.

Lunch over, we were now heading for Italy and our next benchmark the highest town in France: Briancon. Briancon is truly spectacular and yet again another place we were only able to pass through because of our restrictive time-table. Life is too short for all the wonderful places in France! We found the signs for Torino and headed up and up towards the border. First we came to a statue of a climber, who stood at the bottom of the final climb -- was he welcoming or warning? What a climb! What a harrowing road. The higher we climbed the narrower it seemed to become. I had to keep closing my eyes, but I was afraid to keep them closed for fear I wouldn't be ready to keep the car on the road from the passenger side. Both of us were grateful that we were there at the end of the tourist season when there was little traffic -- actually we were there between tourist seasons -- though I can't imagine that road often being open once snow begins to fall. The road was in terrible shape -- sheer drops and crumbling verges and cars, buses and trucks coming the other way as we or rather he negotiated one hairpin turn after another. In the distance were brief glimpses of Briancon and I longed for a place to stop so that Neil could get out and take a picture. It was some time, but finally there was a small place at the side of the road. We were steeling ourselves for what the road would be like once we were over the border into Italy. We assumed the worst and we were wrong!

The Italians had built a wonderful road -- even I would not have been afraid to drive on it! A magnificent descent down the other Alpine side! We also noted that the French side of the Alps is much more rugged looking -- stonier and more barren and rough. Neil was determined not to be caught out by Italian high motorway fees and we were only on the Italian motorway system until we could determine the appropriate alternative route that would get us to Novara, where we had decided to head for for the night.

Grumpy Old American Living in England and It's Freezing!

Several hours a week of my life are spent lying awake in the middle of the night trying to go back to sleep. Some of my best ideas descend upon me during these hours. Ideas that are almost alway forgotten by morning. However, a few nights ago I began coming up with acronyms that might be applied to me! At the top of my list is GOALIE: Grumpy Old American Living in England. This morning it occured to me that perhaps I should amend the 'England' part to 'the Empire' -- in keeping with other prominent New Year's lists. This morning I thought of Old Broad of the Empire, but some of my adopted countrymen and women might take offense.

Living in England at the moment is a frigid affair. Our old Victorian house with its high ceilings is a refrigerator -- a few minutes I will be relieved to close the heavy curtains in my study --it's tempting to keep them closed all day -- it's tempting to stay in bed all day -- as it is I get up after 11 am -- so far rising before noon is sacrosanct to me -- it may not last much longer. I keep up with the ironing to get warm -- imagine that! I've even started taking a hot water bottle to bed. I never knew people did that before I came to England in 1980. You should see the fancy ones they have here in England. Functional hot water bottles that come with nifty fashionable covers -- I don't have one with a cover so I have to cover mine with a towel -- so as not to burn myself. Thinking about it now, I am tempted to go upstairs and grab it.

At the moment my Internet weather programs says it is one degree celsius above freezing outside -- not that cold if you are a New Englander well used to sub zero temperatures and snow measured in feet not centimeters. The trouble is this weather is rare in these parts -- I would say Florida has cold weather more often than we do in this part of England. The snow came a week ago and the side streets of this town of 88,000 people are not gritted and none of the pavements/sidewalks have been cleared.

I may have to get out my mink coat from the wardrobe where I've hidden it -- I'll say it's a fake -- even though my plan is to wear it to church on Sunday. For those who don't know, that is the coldest place in the Kingdom!

The Hairdryer's behind the Chainsaw: Part 3

The Pont du Gard has been on my 'must see' list for a very long time and it totally lived up to my expectations. In some ways it is unfortunate that it has now become a major tourist attraction in the region -- however, on the other hand without this interest it would probably deteriorate and be lost to us forever. It was wonderful to be able to be able to walk across and back again. I was not feeling up to the hike up to the top of the aqueduct, though I probably should have made the effort (in hindsight!!).

As we arrived toward the end of the season we were not overwhelmed with an onslaught of tourists, though there were still many around -- including a bridal party posing for posterity.

It was a perfect day for this excursion -- neither too hot nor too warm. The tourist site is attractively situated and the walk from the entrance to the bridge is pleasant and not too long. Because it was the end of a hot and dry summer the water level of the Gard was extremely low, and it is hard to imagine the wild torrents of water that are said to flow from the mountains in the early Spring. The river bed is white limestone and tends to look more like snow that rock. The engineering logistics of the aquaduct are as impressive as any in our world of engineering feats and a testament to the time when Rome ruled the known world. I hope I get to go back there again one day.

If it were up to me and if time were not closing in on us I would have lingered there for longer. I had already had to give up all hope of seeing Avignon though we did drive along the edge of the ancient city and around and about to get onto the route to Apt, where we had decided to spend the night. Once thing is certain, there is no town in Provence that is easy to drive through! We chose a rather modern looking hotel, which proved to be very comfortable and provided a very nice breakfast -- it was convenient to the entrance of the old town and parking was not a problem. Unfortunately, we did not have the best luck with our choice of restaurant -- that was very disappointing and quite expensive for what we got. We had seen another restaurant/creperie which we found so quickly that we rejected it -- silly mistake. The restaurant we chose was open to the outside and had nasty little tiny bugs that were impossible to escape.

The next day, Sunday, we found some fresh bread and headed for Italy ...

Merry Christmas One and All That Muck

And so we have another Christmas Day. My 65th Christmas and I still end up sooner, if not more often later getting all excited and spirited. I love the anticipation just before the Day begins. I love looking at everything before it all gets torn apart.

The fire has now been lit in the dining room and the table is almost set. The pots and pans are sitting on the stove with vegetables and soup already prepared. All is in readiness. The presents wait to be given out and there is yet no disappointment; nothing has failed -- so far so good. It's the magic time of Christmas. This year we have even got a bit of snow still unmelted. Tomorrow it will probably disappear forever. Magic is still in the air.

Now it's Boxing Day and my mood is entirely different. Christmas dinner turned out to be a worse than mediocre affair -- and all because Someone Who Shall Remain Nameless wouldn't listen to She Who Should Have Been Obeyed. The menu was thus: First course: fresh leek soup -- turned out delicious; second course: fois gras with brioche and salad garnishes -- superb; 3rd course: Roast beef, Yorkshire pudding, roast potatoes, honeyed parsnips and peas and carrots -- this was the disaster part.

For several years we had fillet of beef, which most of us enjoyed. Me especially because it meant that the menu could be completed the day before and the meat just needed a very hot oven for 30 minutes. However, He Who Shall Remain Nameless felt that it just didn't have the flavor and yearned for a more traditional roast beef meal. So last yearShe Who Should Be Called Nitwit in order to make Nameless happy prepared a sirloin of beef roast that even though it was a great deal more work for the new menu, was absolutely delicious. And the cut, though expensive was quite a bit less expensive than the fillet of beef. And so we come to 2009. It's Christmas around the corner and Nameless and Nitwit go shopping to Tesco for another what would have been delicious sirloin of beef roast. And there in the middle of the meat aisle began the argument/discussion. Amidst a flood of different cuts of meat -- all at a reduced price Nameless had discovered large joints of topside rump very cheap. So did Nitwit get the roast she knew would be wonderful or did Nameless prevail by quickly tossing 3 largish pieces of meet into the shopping trolley? Nitwit tried to convince Nameless that this was a mistake and indeed it was. A terrible mistake -- tough as old boots.

Did Nameless admit his mistake -- almost -- until he considered for a while and came up with blaming the supermarket for a 'con'. So its Boxing Day and Nitwit is fuming about being a Nitwit and sulking because of the long hours in the kitchen on Christmas Day when everyone else got to play with his toys -- or whatever!

Today's menu is duck. That's what Nameless should do -- duck!

All Emotional and Teary-Eyed

This morning came the news that the Senate majority leader, Harry Reid, has brought forth the Senate's Health Care bill. Senator Reid also claims there are 60 votes needed for cloture. Ever since the House passed its own version of a health care bill by only 5 votes, there has been a great deal of speculation about the Senate's ability to come through with a bill not only acceptible enough to get through a Senate vote, but also to get through the reconciliation process that both houses of Congress must go through and vote on before it reaches the President's desk.

I believe the benefit of the reconciliation process is that it enables the Senate to limit debate on the bill and so avoid the dreaded filibuster. Reading that Reid believes he has the votes for cloture suddenly gave me hope that maybe after all my native land will have some form of health care with a public option -- well, it all made me feel very emotional and teary-eyed ...

But, I'm still holding my breath. Someone on the republican side said it will be a "holy war". I shake my head in wonder. Another article among today's offerings on the Internet reported that prescription drug prices have risen extortionately despite the recession. How fortunate I am to live in a country where all my prescriptions are paid for and have been since I was 60. Any American who thinks it's not a blessed relief to know that if you need a doctor or medication it's there for you, well any American who thinks that is not thinking. For sure, the NHS is not perfect and needs improvement, but few here would be without it you can be sure.

Well the tears have abated now. I'm holding my breath again as I have since medicare passed. I hope the spirit of Ted Kennedy is successfully haunting the halls of Congress and that somehow our legislators can think beyond the dollars of lobbyists and the political rhetoric to the public good and general well-being of our nation. So far the halls of the mighty have rung with sounds of apathy and injustice, with talk of 'holy wars' and so on and on.

Last November with the election of Barack Obama I felt a new hope for my long lost country. I felt that at last the people had woken up to a greater sense of nationhood than the selfish stand of the individual. But it will always be a battle to sustain a caring society; it will always be a battle for liberty and justice for all and not for the few. But it would behoove the 'few' to remember well that as distant from the 'many' as they deem themselves to be, wealth and success derives from those they would not be.

Apparently the Senate bill has pushed back the date for implementation of the legislation from 2013 to 2014. I worry about this ... what are so many uninsured people supposed to do until then? I worry this is a ploy by republicans and conservative democrats to be able to overturn the legislation before it takes effect should the re-election of President Obama fail. I wonder though, if it is possible to implement the change earlier if democrat numbers increase in 2010. What are the chances of that, though -- greater than electing a black man president do you think?

The Hairdryer's behind the Chainsaw! Part 2

As usual our car was packed with lots of stuff -- In addition to the usual suitcases there were tools, food, wine, bags of sundries such as shoes, make-up and so on. When we left I had put my essentials where I could reach them -- taking care to stay clear of Neil's greasy tools. But in the course of taking out our overnight cases things got moved about. As I was about to drift off to sleep yet again in Sommieres, I suddenly realized that the bag with my hairdryer, was now behind the chainsaw. You realize, of course, that this piece of equipment is difficult to pack tidily. Not only does it hamper neat organization of a packed estate car/station wagon, but it is quite heavy, very dirty and not easily moved around -- at least by me!

in the morning, I gave up all thought of washing my hair, scrunched it up under my pink Route 66 baseball cap and we headed for Nimes, the first stop on our intinerary which had been terribly slashed as we realized that we were too short of time to be able to include either Avignon or the Grand Canyon of Verdon. And I had already given up going to Orange. In her book The Road from the Past, Ina Cato had written a wonderful account of seeing the Roman triumphal arch that had been built to commemorate the victory of Julius Caesar over the Gauls. Her poignant description on the enslaved Gauls in the carvings on the eastern wall meant that I really wanted to see them for myself. Alas! and Alack! this must wait for another day ...

I had briefly been to Nimes sometime in the mid 90's. It was in August and the traffic was so terrible that we gave up all thoughts of trying to park, let alone trying to find a hotel and slunk our way to the outskirts and one of the chain hotels found all over French outskirts -- It was a hot evening and our boys enjoyed far more the long dip in the swimming pool than they would have Roman ruins. And I learned the secret of serving Provencal Rose -- very cold and in frosted wine glasses! Now in the September of 2009 on a bright sunny Saturday we returned, sans boys! But first a quick stop in a supermarket bakery for some croissant and bread. Very good it was, too.

A quick reconnoitre around the center and we found the Maison Carre -- unfortunately trussed up in scaffolding, but nevertheless for this lover of Roman ruins a lovely sight. It was fairly early in the day and accordingly we benefited in being able to find a convenient parking place by the canal and a block or so away from our first destination. I climbed the steps onto the ancient portico thinking about the thousands of years that had passed since its construction by Agrippa in 19 BC. It is miraculous that it should have survived so intact. As magnificent as the building is in its present setting, I was disappointed to discover upon entering a modern cubicle and people selling tickets to a movie being shown inside the temple. I have since learned that the inside is very small and without decoration, so perhaps I'm happier not having paid my money to enter.

Nimes was very busy and around the temple a band was busily setting up and we got the impression that there might be some kind of festival brewing. As indeed there was ...

But our next destination was to find the Roman Ampitheatre, which I understood to be still in use. First, though we had to figure where it was and this is where navigational expertise broke down slightly. But the good thing was we had a nice tour around the old city as we wended our way away from our ultimate destination.

It became more and more apparent that there was something major going on in the city of Nimes that day. In particular I remember a kind of jazz band dressed all in pink wandering around the streets singing their hearts out. In our search for the old Roman structure we kept coming upon them entertaining the growing throngs. Finally, in desperation we looked at our plan of the city and soon figured out we'd gone in the opposite direction and headed back down the street we had been going up. Aha! The market place and the market stalls were out.

More and more people and a real celebratory air was developing around us as the Amphitheatre came into view. Wow! It is huge. On the day we could hear the cheers and shouts of the crowd coming from within. It took several minutes before wound ourselves around to the entrance. We saw some horses and assumed, wrongly, that there was a horse show going on. Then I saw a butcher's van and assumed, again wrongly, that this was in case a horse had to be put down, the butcher was there to prepare it for the local super market ...

Sometimes I cannot fathom my own stupidity. I had read about Nimes many times. I knew that it was one of the few places in Europe outside of Spain that had bullfighting. The cheers we'd heard were for the kill! We did not get to go inside. I'll just have to go back there again some day! In the meantime, I have been to Verona to the opera! We left the bullfighting arena and made our way up another avenue with lots of cafes and special tables being set up for whatever Nimes was celebrating. There were lots of bands, lots of music -- a perfect day for a French festival. But we did not linger. Now it was time to leave and to head for the Pont du Gard.