House of Burgess

Well, the big day has finally arrived.
I would consider today’s edition of the Ukiah Daily Journal your one-stop source for the positions of all 11 supervisor candidates on the most pressing issues facing our valley as chosen by you, our readers.
I want to thank everyone who participated in this process, from the candidates who took the time to fill this out to those who submitted questions to you reading this right now.
I got the idea to do this from the last paper I worked at when they were covering a mayoral primary race. Of course, they only had three candidates at the time, so it was a bit easier to deal with, but this process has taught me a lot about what is most important to my fellow voters.
Personally, I’m still up in the air about who I’m going to vote for (I live in the 2nd district) but I will say this process has helped narrow down my choices. I hope it helps you to do the same, even if you already think you know who is getting your support.

Posted by Rob Burgess at 04:36 PM | Permalink | Comments (1) | TrackBacks (0)

I think I speak for all my colleagues here at the Journal when I say that Friday was a sad one.
No, it’s not just because we won’t be receiving our paychecks until the following Friday, although that fact isn’t helping get the party started either. We were all pretty down in the dumps May 9 because it was the last day for our chief photographer MacLeod Pappidas.
After finding a job at another daily newspaper in Aberdeen, Washington, hometown of Nirvana lead singer Kurt Cobain for what it's worth, he's leaving Northern California for sunny Washington state.
But fear not people of Ukiah, help is on the way. His replacement, our former assistant photographer Sarah Baldick, is an amazing person and fantastic photographer. For a small town newspaper I've been amazed at the level of talented photographers we've been blessed with especially since the last newspaper I worked at didn't even have a photographer on staff. We just had two point and shoots we took with us on assignment.

Posted by Rob Burgess at 01:44 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

This is just a quick update to let everyone know that I have received all of the candidate survey answers. I'm currently in the process of putting everything together and all I have to say is, I'm glad we have more room on Sunday. Honestly, if you're looking for a one-stop guide to how all 11 candidates come down on the most important issues I would highly suggest picking up Sunday's paper. I hope you're all as excited as I am.

Posted by Rob Burgess at 11:12 AM | Permalink | Comments (1) | TrackBacks (0)

Since I'm somewhat behind the curve on gaming systems, due to some, um, payment issues, I have just begun filling out my collection of the freshly defunct XBOX and Playstation 2 gaming systems. This is good for me financially because as new technology is released, the old technology, while still perfectly usable in most cases, drops significantly in price. For example, I can remember my parents dropping over a grand on our first home desktop computer, which now has about the same, if not less, capabilities as my moderately-priced cell phone.
The downside to all this used game buying is that I get the dregs of people's gaming collections, while they keep the best games for themselves. So while I might be hard-pressed to find a copy of Katamari Damacy or and of the Grand Theft Auto series, they've got football and basketball games from previous years for days.
So after perusing these less-loved games from such trusted gaming sources as The History Channel and The U.S. Army, I was shocked, but not necessarily surprised that the National Rifle Association came out with a first-person shooter. I was a bit horrified to learn that it was rated E for Everyone until I saw that you're only target practicing, not hunting for the most dangerous game (in case you haven't seen the Ice-T movie of the same name, the most dangerous game is, of course, people). I guess it's better that they get a virtual skeet shooting experience everyone can get behind instead of trying to convince your Dad that the copy of Vice City you're trying to sneak by him isn't the one with the sex mini-game.

Posted by Rob Burgess at 03:12 PM | Permalink | Comments (1) | TrackBacks (0)

The clock is ticking and the end of the period when you can submit answers to the questions I sent the supervisor candidates is extremely nigh.
In case you missed it, on April 18, I put out a call for any questions the voters of Mendocino County had for the 11 supervisor candidates. More than two dozen responses later I had compiled six questions for the hopefuls covering an array of topics: marijuana, planning, water, county concerns vs. those of particular districts, county administration and the supervisor’s self-approved raise.
On April 23 I sent the questionairre to the candidates in both snail- and electronic-mail formats. In addition, I once again asked you, their potential constituents, for your help by sumbiting your answers along with them to me at udjrb@pacific.net. The deadline for both you and the candidates is Monday. We’ve planned an extra-special edition for May 11 featuring all the responses split into four different stories, one for each of the three districts up for election and a fourth for your answers.
I was asked by one of the candidates after reviewing the survey how long their answers should be. I told them that since this was the only thing we had planned for that day and because it was a Sunday edition, which always has more space, I didn’t have any problem printing whatever was sent to me. Keep in mind though, the more consise you are, the more likely others will be to read and understanding your positions.
Also, I got a call from John Pinches, 3rd district supervisor, asking me to clear up a statement I had made in the introduction to one of the questions. I had stated that he had said that “marijuana in Mendocino County constitutes two-thirds of its economy.” He wanted me to clarify this by adding that he was repeating what a consultant hired by the county had said and not just picking a number out of the air.
So without any further delay, here are the six burning questions we’re all looking forward to hearing the answers to:
1) What is your opinion of Measure B and what should be done about the cultivation marijuana, medical or otherwise, in the county?
2) What is your overall planning philosophy for the county and what specific changes would you make to further that philosophy?
3) How would you use your vote and position on the board to alleviate the county’s current and future water concerns?
4) How will you balance concerns of your own district and concerns of the whole county?
5) What changes, if any, would you make as supervisor to the way the Mendocino County government conducts business?
6) Do you support the board’s self-imposed pay raise and would you serve at the previous salary if elected?

Posted by Rob Burgess at 02:36 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

Twenty-five years ago today I was born in Bloomington, Indiana by a C-section. Then, I was a naked, helpless newborn and now I'm a clothed, full-time daily newspaper reporter, so I think things have been on an upswing ever since. It's an odd feeling having turned a age that can be used to neatly divide a century into four equal pieces. I think the weirdest thing is not having a significant event to look forward to that will change on birthday for a while. I mean, I guess other than not being eligible for the draft after my next birthday (hooray!). And I guess my car insurance rates supposed to go down soon or something. You know how every wedding anniversary has a theme to it? I feel like every year of your life should be commemorated the same way. If I were a wedding anniversary this would be my silver anniversary. Keep that in mind when you're thinking of presents to buy me.

Posted by Rob Burgess at 05:10 PM | Permalink | Comments (2) | TrackBacks (0)

I love watching movies more than almost anything else.
This is fortunate because this is one of the things that brought my girlfriend Ash and I together. What makes this even better is that with our powers combined, we have a fairly impressive library of DVDs and VHS tapes in our apartment.
One of the best things about this mountain of cinema, especially the VHS tapes, is the previews that appear in the minutes before the featured presentation. At the time they were meant to be sneak previews of whatever new blockbusters were about to come out at around the same time as the film in question. For me they now they serve as a time capsule for period they were created in.
My favorite previews out of any of them are the ones where they’re trying to convince me to switch to the next format they‘ve created. Since I never bought into the whole Beta-Max format (I was only five when VHS was declared the unofficial winner) I don’t have a record of them trying to convince me to upgrade to VHS. On my VHS tapes circa 1997 or so though, I have a record of the movie industry presenting me with this strange new technology called Digital Video Disc.
There are several different versions of this commercial, but they all have the same general plot. It starts with a voiceover from Donald LaFontaine, the movie trailer guy, saying “This is DVD.” We then see a blank floating disc fall from the sky and into a sleek new player. “And this is what happens when you watch DVD.” What follows after this statement is a montage of explosions intermixed with helpless family members screaming for mercy, their doubts about this new format wilting in the glow of the DVD’s awesomeness.
What I have never understood, and what no one has adequately explained to me, is how I’m supposed to think this is so amazing when I’m watching the preview for the new technology on the old format they’re trying to tell me is outdated. Why don’t they just make the old thing do what it’s doing right now all the time? Then we wouldn’t have to upgrade, right?
I haven’t bought very many new DVDs lately, but in the last few months I’ve been inundated with a new barrage of these kind of previews on movies I‘ve rented. The original VHS to DVD switch was a simple trade-off, but like the Beta-Max vs. VHS war, the HD DVD vs. Blu-ray face-off was another battle royale. And this time, the revolution was not only televised, but it was accessible at any time.
“Everything you know about DVD, just got better,” said Mr. LaFontaine over the image of another floating disc, this one HD DVD. The commercial then goes on to explain to me (after many, many explosions of course) how this is the “look and sound of perfect.”
Somehow, I feel like I’ve heard this before.
Sadly, in Jan., Warner Brothers, the only major studio still releasing movies in both HD DVD and Blu-ray Disc format, announced it would release only in Blu-ray Disc after May. This has to be disappointing for people who bought in to the HD DVD concept, but I honestly can’t feel too bad for them. Just like the people who bought iPhones for full price a week before the price was slashed almost in half by Apple, it’s the price you pay for being able to be the first kid on the block with the new toy.
I’m sure I’ll get around to picking up a Blu-ray player at some point, probably when I have no other choice. For now though, I‘m still dealing with VHS. And I’ll continue to buy new movies on DVD too, when I can afford it, for as long they keep making them.
I’m sure by the time I do get around to upgrading, they’ll have some more explosions and a new format I hadn‘t even considered yet to show me.

Posted by Rob Burgess at 02:11 PM | Permalink | Comments (3) | TrackBacks (0)

Five days have passed since I asked for a survey questions from the voters of Mendocino County for the 11 supervisor candidates in the running this election cycle and all I can say is that I’m stoked about the reaction.
After sifting through the over two dozen responses, most including multiple queries, I found six common themes which I combined into questions: marijuana, planning, water, county concerns vs. those of particular districts, county administration and the supervisor’s self-approved raise.
I’m sending these forms out to the candidates Wednesday with a May 5 return deadline. The idea is to sort their answers by the district they’re running for and print three separate stories with their responses in a super-sized edition a few days later.
But then I thought, why let them have all the fun? Why not let the public have a go and answering some of the burning questions facing the area? After all, you basically came up with them anyway. So, send your answers to the following questions to me at udjrb@pacific.net by May 5 and I’ll include as many of them as I can in a fourth story the same day as the candidates.
And as one community member who sent me a list of questions put it, “be brave and answer”:

Marijuana
1) Third District supervisor John Pinches has said marijuana in Mendocino County constitutes two-thirds of its economy. The board has taken up the issue of medical marijuana several times over the course of the last few months, at last count limiting the number of plants per parcel to 25 regardless of the number of approved patients living there. If your name is on the ballot for supervisor come June 3, you’re going to have it printed on the same sheet of paper as Measure B.
The question is:
What is your opinion of Measure B and what should be done about the cultivation marijuana, medical or otherwise, in the county?

Planning
2) By far the most talked-about issue of those who responded with questions for the candidates was issues of planning and the future of the valley. Everything from improvement of county roads to the idea of a meat process plant/slaughter house to development of living wage jobs to, of course, the development of the former Masonite site was brought up.
The question is:
What is your overall planning philosophy for the county and what specific changes would you make to further that philosophy?

Water
3) Speaking of planning, the availability of water was another hot issue with those who responded with questions. Two of the area’s most profitable agricultural industries, marijuana and wine, require high amounts of water, yet several parts of the county, including Redwood Valley, have struggled to find it.
The question is:
How would you use your vote and position on the board to alleviate the county’s current and future water concerns?

County vs. District
4) Citizens who responded with questions were also concerned about favoritism of supervisors to their own districts and not the county in general. Topics such as candidate’s positions on property rights such as the Coastal Commission overturning local decisions, supervisors voting their beliefs over those of their constituents and special interests influencing voting were all brought up.
The question is:
How will you balance concerns of your own district and concerns of the whole county?

County administration
5) Several county residents who submitted questions raised concerns with the current configuration of county government. Issues such as the balance of power between the CEO and the board; staff overtime; the consolidation of mental health, social services and public health; clarity of the county budget and the fair campaign ordinance were all raised.
The question is:
What changes, if any, would you make as supervisor to the way the Mendocino County government conducts business?

Supervisors’ raise
6) In August, the board repealed the previous 43 percent pay raise, which was directly tied to the Superior Court judges' salary. Immediately following the repeal, the board approved a new compensation ordinance with the same pay raise in it.
The question is:
Do you support the board’s self-imposed pay raise and would you serve at the previous salary if elected?

Posted by Rob Burgess at 12:07 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

I got my eyes checked today for the first time in almost a year. I tried to wait as long as I could before going back, but I finally realized I couldn't wait any longer. I'm on my last pair of contacts now and my glasses are coming up on eight years old.
Everything was going fine during the exam until it came to the pressure-checking portion. I'm sure you know the part I'm talking about. It's the part where they give you the numbing drops with and then poke at your eyes to check for cataracts. At my old eye doctor they had a big machine that had a blue light that would slowly come in for the kill. Actually I didn't realize until a few years ago that it was actually touching my eye and applying pressure. I just thought they were shining this cool-looking blue lazer beam into the back of my skull.
This particular eye doctor I went to today didn't have this machine- he had a ballpoint pen-looking instrument that he swore did the same thing. He even had a tiny condom-looking cover he rolled over the top, I guess in an effort to sterilize the thing before prodding my eye.
The other thing that freaked me out was that he didn't turn off the lights. Actually, looking back I'm glad he didn't. I don't know about you, but when someone is poking at my eyes, I want them to have as much visibility as possible. I guess I was just pining for the days when I was being zapped by the friendly blue light with all the other lights in the room off.
It was over fairly quickly and the good news is with just a few days left of my 24th year of life, I have been declared cataract free. Hooray!
I think I'm honestly more afraid of getting my eye poked again with the testing pen of doom than I am of actually getting cataracts in my mid 20's.

Posted by Rob Burgess at 04:57 PM | Permalink | Comments (1) | TrackBacks (0)

The letter didn’t have a return address.
All I could tell from the of the outside of the white envelope was that it was sent from Seattle on April 12 and that my name had been stamped onto a sticker attached to the front with what looked like a dot matrix printer.
As I ripped open the top of the envelope, I found that the only contents was four tri-folded pieces of paper. The words: “MAKE $250,000 IN WEEKS” were printed on the top of the first page. Below that the letter declared that “Oprah Winfrey and ABC’s investigation team 20/20 prove it can be done.”
It only took one more phrase found near the bottom of this page to confirm my suspicions about what it was:
“THIS IS NOT A PYRAMID SCAM!!!”
This is was a pyramid scheme.
You and I have all gotten these countless times over the years I’m sure, but lately I seem to recieve the majority of them in my e-mail inbox from supposedly confused foreigners who want to “intimate you a transaction involving transfer of US$14.5M abroad, in which I would seek your assistance in receiving the funds.” It’s easy to simply send these to the recycling bin, after sharing a good laugh with anyone near of course, because they’re e-mails. How hard is it to send an e-mail? I can do that from my phone. So what?
But this was mailed, and I haven’t gotten one in the mail in years. And as I read on, I found out just how much time and money the sender spent getting it to me.
“Greetings! I am a retired attorney,” stated the first line of the second page of the document. After reading this I checked the back of the letter and saw it had not been signed. I guess this particular lawyer was out sick the day at law school when they covered the importance of writing your name on correspondence.
During the next two paragraphs this nameless legal eagle detailed his transition from skeptic to evangelist three months after first hearing of the scam, I mean money making opportunity when their “income totaled $2,244,179!!!!” (I’m getting the impression that that kind of money can buy you a lot of excess punctuation.)
Before they got to the meat of the argument they waved what should have been, in my opinion, a giant red flag to any recipients who were still on the edge about whether or not to sign up.
“Keep what you are doing to yourself for a while,” they wrote. “Many will tell you it won’t work and will try to talk you out of your dreams. Let them know and see your success after it works.”
Yes, just like every other reputable investment opportunity.
Near the bottom of the page it outlined the simple instructions:
1. Send $1.00 to each of the six names listed and on a sheet of paper enclosed, request that you be added to their mailing list with your name and address.
2. Remove the name in the number one position and move each of the other names up one place (2 becomes 1) (3 becomes 2) etc. Put your name in the sixth position.
3. After completing the above instructions, photocopy at least 200 copies of this letter.
4. Purchase a mailing list of names from one of the recommended companies.
Below this was the name of three such companies: Data Line LLC, Bookworm Benny and First International Publication.
Then it was just as easy as sending it out to the purchased names and addresses and kicking back while the cash and expendable exclamation marks rolled in.
So if the person who sent this to me, who by my calculations was someone in Kent, Wash., followed the directions completely they had spent around $202 getting this to me and the 199 others.
I decided I had to find out how this was working out for them. I realized it wouldn’t be easy as no phone numbers of those who had participated had been provided. Added to that there was that section earlier in the letter about keeping their unbelievable success to themselves.
After dialing directory assistance a half-dozen times I found that four of the six on my list had unlisted numbers. Coming away with only two contacts, I dialed the number of a gentleman in Girard, Ga. who appeared in the number five position on my list.
He answered and we talked for a minute or two. and said he had sent the letter out about 60 days ago. I asked him how much money he had gotten sent back.
“Oh, God not much,” he said. “Probably only about $20. It said sometimes it takes two to three months to do the cycle.”
I’m sure it did.
I wished him luck and hung up. He seemed nice enough and I honestly did feel bad that he was $182 in the red on the deal.
I picked up the phone and called the only other number I was able to find, a man residing in Nanticoke, Pa.
The phone rang thrice before I heard the click of someone picking up.
“Hello?” I said.
Nothing, except slow breathing.
“He-llo?” I said again.
Click.
I re-cradled the receiver and called back. This time it rang five times before an answering machine came on and delivered a brusque message. There was a beep. I hung up.
Oh well, I thought as I refolded the letter. Maybe they were too busy counting their money to talk. With or without exclamation points.

Posted by Rob Burgess at 03:42 PM | Permalink | Comments (2) | TrackBacks (0)

Hey there, Rob Burgess here.

I was just working on the idea of sending a list of survey questions to 11 supervisorial candidates today and I was trying to think of things to ask them. I thought of a few good ones, but then I realized that the best thing to do would be to ask you, my fellow voters, what you wanted to know from those in the running.

So, here's the plan: send your ideas to me at udjrb@pacific.net by Tuesday and I'll pick the best six or so and send them to the candidates. I'll give them until May 5 to respond and we'll try to fit them all into one big edition a few days later.

Good luck, and I look forward to see what you come up with.

Posted by Rob Burgess at 03:13 PM | Permalink | Comments (1) | TrackBacks (0)

I'm always amazed there was a time I didn't know what the internet was. I remember I was 12 when I found out we were getting it. A week or two before we got it I kept asking my Dad all these questions about it like, "Now these addresses, you have to type them more than once? And it takes you to a web page? I don't underSTAND!"
Now I have no less than half a dozen accounts on an array of social networking sites that range from professional to, well, less professional. I've lost any illusion of the anonymity and with the Patriot Act along with any halfway competent person with computer hacking skills could find pretty much my whole life's story with a few clicks of the mouse.
An invitation from the professional networking site LinkedIn forced me contemplate reducing presence of information available on the web. Then I realized that places like the Wayback Machine we're already archived. No!
Besides the fact that I feel my own privacy has been violated, by own doing of course, I am constantly assaulted with information pertaining to people I'm 'friends' with online, but who haven't said a word to me in years. Or ever.

Posted by Rob Burgess at 12:45 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

Wow do I wish this election cycle were over. Honestly if you can't make up your mind if you want Hillary or Barack by now you're a fool and shouldn't be allowed to vote. Who are these double digit percentage points of people who can't make up their mind? Decide already!
I wouldn't care so much except by this point we're so far from real issues and we're not even close to talking about anything that matters. Read the following excerpt and tell me if you think it warrants a "scandal" lasting multiple weeks:

"You go into these small towns in Pennsylvania and, like a lot of small towns in the Midwest, the jobs have been gone now for 25 years and nothing's replaced them. And they fell through the Clinton Administration, and the Bush Administration, and each successive administration has said that somehow these communities are gonna regenerate and they have not.
"And it's not surprising then they get bitter, they cling to guns or religion or antipathy to people who aren't like them or anti-immigrant sentiment or anti-trade sentiment as a way to explain their frustrations."

Posted by Rob Burgess at 03:11 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

Downtown Ukiah is currently an obstacle course of construction vehicles and road crews attempting to repave the city streets. This has wreaked havoc on many a commuter this morning. I myself had to drive an extra five to six blocks just to park at the back of the Journal. The front of the Journal's office is closed to through traffic and flaggers are directing traffic away.
Did any of this stop the Party Bench? No way. Check this picture from Friday out:

Upon closer inspection you can see a balled up foil wrapper, an empty glass flask of Smirnoff Vodka (hey, the Party Bench is stepping up the quality) and a plastic bag that declared that it once held a pannini sandwich from Safeway.
Party on, bench!

Posted by Rob Burgess at 02:24 PM | Permalink | Comments (1) | TrackBacks (0)

After living in California for the last eight months and all I can say is, you people really love John Mellencamp.
Nowadays, if I need a Mellencamp fix all I have to do is scan through the local radio stations and more often than not “Pink Houses” or “Jack and Diane” will grace the speakers of my car stereo. I have a similar theory about the television show “Law and Order” which states that can turn on the television on at any point during the day and an episode of at least one of the show’s spinoffs will be playing.
This is significant because I am from southern Indiana and I thought we loved our native son more than anyone else.
I get reconfirmation of how wrong I was every time I tell someone where I grew up.
“Oh, really?” they ask, they eyes beginning to widen. “Do you know John Mellencamp?”
Of course, everyone in southern Indiana personally “knows” John Mellencamp the way everyone seems to magically be childhood friends with the favorite son of any town. Everyone from my neck of the woods has had at least story about a personal run-in with the chain-smoking Rock and Roll Hall of Famer.
So in short, yes, we all know John Mellencamp.
But you people...you people love this guy. And I can’t blame you. I had something similar happen to me before I moved here.
As I was gearing up for the cross-country drive I felt that I had to mentally prepare myself for the culture and geography of the place I was about to move to. Being a music lover, that meant that I had to find absolutely every kind of music to spring from the Bay area from Sly Stone to Too Short to E-40 and then listen to it obsessively. Now that I think about it, I’m pretty sure that I even added some Steve Miller Band in the mix too just based on the line in “Rockin’ Me Baby” where he talks about the girls in Northern California having above average body temperatures.
I drank it all in expecting to hear the Doobie Brother’s song “Ukiah” to magically start playing as I pulled off Highway 101 just after a rousing rendition of Willie Nelson’s “Mendocino County Line.”
So you see, we’re not that different you Californians and I. Looking back I guess we were just looking across the country at each other saying “Huh, that looks interesting. Now if you’ll excuse me, I see that another episode of ‘Law and Order: SVU is coming on.”

Posted by Rob Burgess at 02:03 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

With the recent heckling of Chelsea Clinton with a Monica Lewinsky reference in Indianapolis and someone burning down her mom's Indiana headquarters in Terre Haute just last night, here's a little prediction: Indiana will go to John McCain come November. I say this because Indiana, despite what it's neighbors do in presidential elections, has not gone to anyone besides the Republicans since 1964 when it went to Lyndon Johnson. And that's only after he aired this commercial basically saying if Goldwater were elected we were all gonna die.
Here's a map of the 1996 presidential election for an idea of what I'm talking about:

So drink it all while you still can, Hillary and Barack, come November neither of you is going to get nearly as much love from the Hoosier state as you are right now at your rallies.

Posted by Rob Burgess at 03:27 PM | Permalink | Comments (1) | TrackBacks (0)

I absolutely hate getting the mail. Hate it. Hate it. Hate it.
And the thing is, I used to love it. When I was a kid fun things came in the mail all the time. If it wasn't a card with money inside of it from a relative in commemoration of one of many holidays then it was one of the many magazine subscriptions I had like ZooBooks or Boy's Life or Sports Illustrated or Entertainment Weekly (It probably goes without saying, but I was subscribed to these all at different points).
Lately though, I've been considering getting a magazine subscription again just to make myself feel better when I'm confronted by the barrage of bills, junk mail and general bad news I'm confronted with every time I dare to shove the tiny key into my mailbox. To be fair, my friends and family do send me cards, packages and gifts regularly so I can't say it's all bad, but for the most part I find I have to crunch a few antacid tablets every time I do check my box.
So imagine my surprise when I opened what looked like a handwritten birthday card from a resturant here in town I had never been to. Inside the card, which addressed me as Robert, was a free entree coupon to be used any time before the end of the month in commemoration of my 25th birthday. I was pleased to get the Star's Restaurant voucher, but was also confused about how they knew so much about me.
Puzzled, but also hungry, my girlfriend Ash and I went that very night and had a lovely, well-decorated meal at their fine establishment. As I was paying the bill I asked the waitresses where they got them from. They seemed similarly clueless as to the source of my information, but one of them said she thought she heard the owner say that they bought the list of names, addresses and birthdays from somewhere, possibly a dentist or a doctor somewhere in town. I said that I appreciated the thought, it was actually a pretty good meal, but I left still lacking a definitive answer to my question.
Who did they buy this from? Has anyone else received these?
Until I know more, all I can say is that potential identity theft has never been more delicious.

Posted by Rob Burgess at 10:29 AM | Permalink | Comments (2) | TrackBacks (0)

I finally got the license plates on my car changed to California from Indiana a mere eight months after moving from the "Crossroads of America" to, well, here. (According to the DMV's Web site I think I was supposed to do this within 10 days of moving here. Whoops. Better late than never!) I would have liked to have hung on to my Indiana plates if for no other reason than I wouldn't have had to go through the smog check process (my car passed, thankfully). But, as I saw that my license was about to expire on my birthday (the 29th of this month) I thought they might have become suspicious if I got a new license without getting a new plate for my car. (There's a reason I'll never be a master criminal).
The most surprising part of the whole ordeal (besides the fact they actually have a visible wall clock in the DMVs here in California, at least the one I went to anyway) was that I had to retake the written test. Twice. I haven't taken a driving test of any kind since I was 16 and I'm not too proud to say that I had a little trouble with some of the answers. I maintain this is not completely my fault as I believe that in Indiana there are no U-Turns and walking out in front of traffic is not considered kosher or a God-given right. (I swear pedestrians in California act like they're teaching me a life lesson every time they jump out in front of traffic.)
I nearly had to take the test three times, but in the end I was told by the helpful woman behind the counter that my license would be coming in the mail in a few weeks as she handed me back my Indiana license, now with a newly-punched hole in it.
Unfortunately I was forced to turn in my Indiana plate when I got my California tags, but they let me keep my license. Barring the new circle cut out of it in the top right corner, it is technically still valid for another 22 days. I can't think of any weird fun I could have with it for the next three weeks while it's still valid. Too bad there isn't a native Hoosier-only club here in Ukiah. I'd be so in right now.

Posted by Rob Burgess at 05:53 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

For the purposes of this week’s column I wish I could assume the identity of one of my favorite authors, Chuck Klosterman (for many other reasons come to think of it) so I could grant myself permission to reprint the chapter from his essay collection “Sex, Drugs and CoCoa Puffs” entitled “All I Know Is What I Read In The Papers” in its entirety.
Besides the fact that readers are often assumed to be illiterate (“Every discussion I’ve ever had with an editor has stressed that people despise the process of reading.”) and that many sports writers actually hate sports as no one ever asks them their opinions about anything else, what puts him off is that people who are angry with the media are often completely misguided in what they should be upset about.
One of the things that hit home for me about this essay is the section where he covers reporter bias. This is the old standby of the newspaper haters of the world and I’ve lost count of the number of times I’ve heard about it in my life.
In early February I received a supposedly alarming e-mail that I think was accidentally sent to me from a local group announcing that “with the well appreciated exceptions of the Anderson Valley Advertiser and Mendocino Country Independent, ALL the following local newspapers are owned by the SAME company: MediaNews Group. A closely held (not publicly traded) corporation.” The e-mail went on to say that the Journal was one of the “arms of the octopus” of MediaNews Group, which it is, and that it also owns several other local news outlets, which it does.
The point of this was to imply that there was some hidden agenda being pushed by this corporation and everyone, from the top down was a part of it.
I promise you, from the bottom of my bleeding liberal heart this is so not true.
“Are media outlets controlled by massive, conservative corporations?” wrote Klosterman. “Well, of course they are. Massive conservative corporations own everything. Are most individual members of the media politically liberal? Absolutely. If talented writers honestly thought the world didn’t need to be changed, they’d take jobs in advertising that are half as difficult and three times as lucrative. So in theory all the long-standing conspiracies about media motives are true. But, in practice, they’re basically irrelevant, at least in the newspaper industry.”
Why just this week I was accused of being my editor “ KC's trained monkey” in an e-mail from a source. This really couldn’t be further from the truth. Once again, I promise you, I have had more freedom to cover what I want when I want at this job than I’ve had at pretty much every other place I’ve been employed, summer camp included, and I love this job for that.
“The single most important impact of any story is far less sinister: Mostly it all comes down to (a) who the journalist has called, and (b) which of those people happens to call back first,” he wrote.
Who I call and who calls me back first has a direct influence on not only what I write, but what questions I will ask the people who I talk to next. It’s just that simple. I simply don’t have the time, energy or desire to manipulate a story about, say, a local elementary school collecting something for a good cause for my own nefarious purposes.
“I worked in the Knight Ridder chain for four years, and I never got the impression that the CEO read anything, except maybe ‘Golf Digest’,” he wrote.
So, if you’re going to accuse this journalist of anything, please make it something reasonable like the fact that I am no where near as good at expressing myself as the writers I idolize. I will apologize for that.

Posted by Rob Burgess at 04:45 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

I had heard last week that Chelsea Clinton got asked about Monica Lewinsky. What I didn't know until yesterday was that it was someone from Butler University in Indianapolis, Indiana.
Oh, goodness.
To my fellow Hoosiers, let me say something:
We haven't been politically relevant in national politics for years and the one time we get some big names coming through, this is what happens? You ask Chelsea Clinton about her father's surely eternally embarrassing-to-her sexual escapades? Really? Leave the poor girl alone for pity's sake.
This is why we can't have nice things, Indiana. This is why we can't have nice things.

Posted by Rob Burgess at 03:48 PM | Permalink | Comments (1) | TrackBacks (0)

My brother Chris sent me a link to an entry on the Web site Urban Dictionary for the word Burgess. On the site there are two definitively different definitions for our last name:

1. Burgess

A person who has particularly rank body odor or to be generally socially unacceptable.
Examples:
"Wow that dead guy really smells like Burgess"
"This van smells like Burgess"

2. Burgess

A work of fiction that is more similar to the effects of LSD than it is to real life.
Examples:
"Did you see that new movie....its so burgess!"
"I am so freaked by those burgess images in that film!"

I've never actually heard either of these in common usage, but as you can probably guess, I'm much more fond of the second one. It most likely has to do with one of the cooler Burgesses in history, (excluding Burgess Meredith since it's his first name) Anthony Burgess who, among other things, wrote the classic "Clockwork Orange".
The ranking system for the Urban Dictionary works on consensus and so far the two definitions posted there covering the less flattering definition have a combined total of 49 "thumbs up" votes and 30 "thumbs down" votes (the majority of which I'm guessing are other Burgesses or Burgess sympathizers). The more favorable definition relating to the late author has only one vote either way. (Note to other Burgesses: We need to get on this problem, Burgesses unite!)
In this case I feel somewhat like the Michael Bolton character from the movie "Office Space" who found that his name perfectly acceptable and "there was nothing wrong with it...until I was about 12 years old" when the same-named performer became popular and everyone began associating the two.
I'm guessing there was just one unpleasant Burgess who ruined it for the rest of us.

Posted by Rob Burgess at 02:33 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

If you've never been to the fair city of Ukiah, School Street, where the Ukiah Daily Journal resides, is one of the nicest parts of town. I take my dog on walks here when it's not raining and when the weather is warm the farmer's market sets up shop on a block-long strip Saturday mornings. When you think of an idyllic small town scene featuring unique local businesses, that's School Street.
The parking for Journal employees sits to side and behind the front of the building on School Street, so I barely ever enter through the front door. Almost every time I have though I've noticed a single concrete bench that sits just in front of the handicap-accessible ramp always has something scandalous on it, in stark contrast to the Mayberry-esque feel of the street it calls home.
I've come to call this the Party Bench.
My first experience with the Party Bench was when I had stepped outside to talk on my cell phone one day while I was at work. I walked by the bench and saw a business card sticking out from the side. Curious, I kicked it off with my foot and bent down to inspect it. It was a business card for a check cashing place. Nothing too off about that other than the fact that I consider check cashing businesses some of the most evil, predatory businesses in existence. (Have you ever actually seen their repayment terms? Outrageous!)
The next time I was out there about a week later I saw a flask-sized bottle of some type of vodka I had never heard of sitting defiantly on the Party Bench--and after attending Indiana University for four years, I thought I had seen every kind of cheap vodka. (Oh, Skol and Kamchatka, how I won't miss you.)
A month or two later I walked by the Party Bench again and this time I saw a lone film canister sitting on it. Knowing the bench's reputation, I was pretty sure it was something illicit. As I popped the top of the plastic cylinder open I found that I wasn't disappointed as it was packed to the gills with marijuana. I immediately walked inside and plopped it on the front desk, telling Linda, who works up front in Classified Sales, that if anyone came looking for their misplaced film canister of bud, they need to look no further. She later told me she dumped it out in the parking lot. (Sorry to be player hating, bench).
It's been a few months since the last incident and since then I've checked the Party Bench from time to time to see what other remnants of a potentially illegal good time it's been having lately. So far I haven't found anything. I can understand though--as George Costanza on "Seinfeld" learned, sometime's it's best to leave on a high note rather than continual trying to top yourself.

Posted by Rob Burgess at 07:39 PM | Permalink | Comments (1) | TrackBacks (0)

I really do hate it when Ben Brown is gone.
It’s nothing to do with him personally, although do like him a great deal and his company is always welcome. What I miss most in his absence is that I have to be crime reporter.
And this is my least favorite part of this job.
When he’s gone I live in constant fear that today is going to be that someone will blow a hole in the wall of the county jail, releasing all the inmates before going on a high speed chase which ends in a fiery accident which causes a forest fire which somehow triggers a flood.
Ben’s stories are consistently the most read on both our Web site and in print, mostly because they apply to everyone. Who doesn’t want to know who accidentally shot themselves at the gun range or got caught pretending to be police officers while stealing someone else’s marijuana at gun point?
In the past year since I’ve become a full-time journalist I’ve only had to go to one motorcycle accident, a single house fire and two court dates. While I was there I hated every minute of it.
The thing I hate most about doing Ben’s job is that I’m playing with people’s lives when I write a crime story. Forget to include the word “allegedly” or the phrase “on suspicion of” and you’ve just convicted someone of doing something in print before they ever get their case heard by a jury.
I’m writing this at the end of my Saturday shift here at the Journal because I don’t want to jinx myself, but this time around has been pretty smooth as well.
I’ve been responsible for Ben’s job for the past few days and barring a few close calls the most I’ve had to deal with is the police report and an unsettling story about a child abuser.
My good luck almost ran out today when I heard about a traffic collision south of Willits on Highway 101, but after it was determined to have only minor injuries I was thankfully spared from covering it.
So in summation, I just want to thank all the reckless drivers, criminal masterminds and general degenerates for holding off on your sprees while I am the action reporter.
We always sell more papers when there are big stories and I want the Journal to do well financially, so please continue with your capers starting Monday.
I’ll be miles away, typing about something far less exhilarating, just the way I like it.

Posted by Rob Burgess at 04:10 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

A quick look at the bracket a dime borrowed from my coworker Zack's pocket picked for the men's NCAA Division I Men's Basketball Tournament proves that it was a bad year for teams with funny names (Austin Peay, Oral Roberts, you will be sorely missed.)
To my great surprise #13 Siena, the team that the frozen image of Franklin Delano Roosevelt saw going all the way, actually made it out of the first round by defeating #4 Vanderbilt, but missed the Sweet Sixteen by falling to the similarly named Villanova.
In fact, as we find out who the Elite Eight are, the only team I still have in the mix that I picked to go any further are the Michigan St. Spartans. I have them, excuse me, the coin, has them going to the final game before loosing to Siena. (whoops)
The one thing I did learn from all this was the random selection was right almost half of the time, with 15 of the 32 teams the coin picked making it out the first round. I almost never do this well when I pick by myself.
I was really hoping the coin would be right, if for no other reason that I think any school who selects a St. Bernard as its mascot deserves to do well.

Posted by Rob Burgess at 11:16 AM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

So I'm in line at Safeway buying some things for dinner with my girlfriend Ash and we're ready to check out. The only two registers open in the entire store are the express lanes and they are jam-packed. The line for the further one from us extends clear into the aisle across the way from the lane. The one closest to us makes a sharp turn at a barrel of discounted items towards us. We post up behind a nervous looking man holding a pair of soup cans close to his chest. As we take our place in line I see a woman coming from the opposite direction break through the longer line and takes her position on the other side of the soup man, making the line "Y" shape. As she approaches I make sure to look her in the eye and I figure we have an unspoken understanding that I was there first and will be subsequently cutting in front of her, which I do, with no protest--from her anyway.
At this point a petite, bespectacled woman in the other line who has an entire cart-full of apple juice containers turns to the woman behind us and says, "Did they just cut in front of you?" And before she could answer the bespectacled woman addresses us and says the same thing. I then inform her that no, in fact, we did not. She mumbles that we did. At this point I offer the woman behind us to cut us in line if it's so important to her. Once again, before the woman I'm actually talking to can respond the nosy woman says, "oh no, she's fine."

At this point in the conversation I'd like to point out that:
a) I'm pretty sure these two women don't know each other
b) The woman behind us probably just got caught up in the madness of her new "friend"
and most importantly...
c) If someone offers you a way out of something and you say "no" you have automatically lost the right to complain about it.

Then, to my utter shock and amazement they CONTINUE to talk to each other about us "cutting" her loudly. After a few seconds of this, I turned around and offered my place in line again. They once again refuse. "You're obviously still upset about it," says Ash to which the bespectacled woman replies "We were just chit-chatting". Yeah right. After this we walk behind them and force them in front of us. The conversation between the two stops and we all stand uncomfortably around as the line creeps forward for the rest of the time.
The thing that bothered me most about all this is if she had asked us if she could get in front of us, even and especially if we had cut her, which we didn't, I would have been more than happy to let her go. She had like three things to our five and I couldn't care less. It just seems me that some people are looking for a situation where they can be victim even if it's imaginary and even if it's happening to someone else and even after they are offered a way out.
I guess some of us need the "other" pushing against them at all times, even if it's not real, to feel normal.

Posted by Rob Burgess at 03:20 PM | Permalink | Comments (1) | TrackBacks (0)

Pssst.
I’m probably not supposed to be telling you this, but come closer and I’ll let you in on something. Ready? Here goes:
Journalists have opinions about the subject they write about.
I know, I know. There is no opinion is journalism. Just like there is no ‘i’ in team or crying in baseball. But look, newspapers, from the top down are produced by people. And real life human beings form beliefs based on situations they are exposed to.
Even the most sanitized, balanced writer is bound to let some of their real-life prejudice towards one side or the other slip once in a while. That goes for the choice of words to the amount of attention a particular aspect of a story is given.
Gonzo journalists like Chuck Klosterman (“Killing Yourself to Live”), Hunter S. Thompson (“Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas”) and Tom Wolfe (“ The Electric Kool-Aid Acid Test”) realized this, threw their opinions into their writing and jumped in after them. These writers are my heroes, but the main problem I have with their genre is often head-scratching blurring of the lines between fiction and reality. Dream sequences, invented characters and exaggerated descriptions can often occur and can make trying to suss out what is real and what isn’t challenging.
This leads me to my new obsession, the Showtime series “Penn & Teller: B.S.” (READ: the name is not actually ‘B.S.’). The show is hosted by magicians/comedians Penn Jillette and Teller and each half-hour long episode covers a topic they are set on debunking.
The show is far from unbiased and I don’t always agree with the position the hosts take. What I do love about though is that the facts and opposing viewpoints surrounding each topic are presented just as often as their wholly separate opinions. I enjoy the fact that the duo assumes I’ll be able to figure out the difference between their opinion and fact and moves on.
“(‘B.S.’) isn't journalism, exactly,” wrote Noel Murray in his 2004 review of the show for satirical newspaper “The Onion”. “The show is one-sided by design: P&T's field interviewers rarely confront their subjects with the evidence against them, preferring to let the crackpots ramble on so that Jillette's voiceover rejoinders can score points without inciting a real argument.”
I don’t have a problem with that though. What I do have a problem with is the “truthiness” that has overtaken the new breed of loud, talking-head news programs.
“I don't trust books,” said comedian Stephen Colbert, originator of the word, in 2005. “They're all fact, no heart. And that's exactly what's pulling our country apart today. We are divided between those who think with their head, and those who know with their heart.”
People like Bill O’Reilly insert their opinion into their reporting too, but they go one step further by distorting and taking out of context the facts they present as well, giving the whole operation an air of truthiness. (I could name some examples, but your best bet is to turn to the Fox News Channel right now. I’m sure they’re doing it as we speak.)
Really what’s worse: someone who tells you up front that they have an opinion or someone who pretends to be “fair and balanced” while feeding you a lie?

Posted by Rob Burgess at 03:53 PM | Permalink | Comments (1) | TrackBacks (0)

I was cleaning out my desk the other day and among other things I found a loose page from my reporter's notebook at the bottom of one of the drawers. I barely remember writing this and I'm pretty sure it was from a day I was working in the office by myself, doing the crime reporter's job because the top of the sheet is labled "Calls - 11/26/07" which probably means I meant to call and ask one of the local law enforcement agencies about it. Here it is in its entirety:

Ask about a blind man driving.
about 7:50
from Potter Valley
somewhere on 101
Born in 1927
Hadn't slept in a few days.
Dodge Caravan

Posted by Rob Burgess at 03:28 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

A tradition my dad and I have every year is filling out the Division I NCAA men's basketball tournament brackets. I invariably get almost everything wrong past the first round. This is because for some of the smaller schools it represents the first time I have ever heard of their institutions and I invariably pick too many of these. (Gonzaga? Austin Peay? You're going to the final game if I have anything to say about it!)
Similarly, the first time I voted in a general election, in 2004, I felt pretty informed politically until I got to the unknown-to-me school board candidates and found myself making my picks based on who had the coolest last name.
So this year to stave off embarrassment I decided to let a dime I borrowed from my coworker Zack decide for me. Here's what the coin toss gods decided about my bracket:
- Half of the number one seeds (Kansas and Memphis) will be defeated by the 16 seeds (Portland St. and UT-Arlington)
- One 15 seed will make it to the Elite Eight (Austin Peay) and another (Belmont) will make it to the final four along with the Indiana Hoosiers, my alma mater.
- The 13 seed Siena Saints (apparently they were the Indians until they changed their mascot it in the '80s to its present incarnation of a giant St. Bernard) will be crowned the 2008 national champions after defeating the Michigan St. Spartansin the final game.
So mark my words, come April 7, the town of Loudonville, New York's 2,900 undergrads will be celebrating the glorious victory of their beloved St. Bernards come April 7. Or don't. It doesn't matter this year because it won't be my fault. Unless they really do win. And then I'm taking complete credit.

Posted by Rob Burgess at 02:51 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

To put it bluntly, when I do something right in this job, I hear about it sometimes and when I screw up I almost always hear about it twice as loud and often. I also tend to take it to heart when I get something wrong because I hate loosing face and screwing things up when everyone is watching.
Last week I wrote a story about the impending layoffs at the Ukiah Unified School District. I had written several stories about the same subject in the days leading up to this particular one, and I thought I had a handle on the situation. Needless to say, I was wrong.
In this particular story I had made it clear that the district would be announcing the names of those who would be receiving notices in the mail. In a word, this was wrong. Oh, so very wrong.
I didn't find my mistake until I arrived at the particular meeting. The superintendent took me aside and told me that the office had been inundated with calls. Apparently, due to confidentiality issues it would be illegal to release the names of the teachers in question. oops.
I returned to my seat, looking for a hole to crawl in. As if this wasn't embarrassing enough, she then made an announcement after the pledge of allegiance clarifying any confusion raised by my story. It was at this point that I found through trial and error that I am slightly too tall to hide completely behind my laptop.
After finishing with the meeting I made my way back to the office and finished the story I was writing. As I checked my e-mail on my work computer I came across an e-mail from Dolly Brown, a candidate for county supervisor that I had written a story about the week previous. In effect, it said that I had done a good job with the story and that "Objectivity in reporting is an honor and a trust, not unlike public service."
Now I've had people lecture me on how I'm supposed to be doing my job before. In addition, I had just returned from a board meeting where I had nearly died of embarrassment so I was ready to hear the worst about my writing. Thinking she was being sarcastic, I sent the following e-mail in return:

I do apologize if you feel that I misquoted or misrepresented your opinions in the story I wrote. I'll be happy to run a correction if you can tell me something I wrote that wasn't true.

It wasn't until the next morning that I realized my mistake.
I opened up my e-mail and found out that she was giving me a compliment. After slapping my forehead I reread the previous e-mail she had sent me and saw clearly that she had been giving me a big up. I sent a note of apology and felt even worse than before.
I guess the moral of this story is that your mood and perspective is a factor in so many situations that you'll usually gain perspective if you step outside of it for a second and take note of the facts before acting.
Or writing a story. That helps too.

Posted by Rob Burgess at 11:00 AM | Permalink | Comments (3) | TrackBacks (0)

I'll be the first to admit that my views on politics often skew fairly liberal, but some primal part of my psyche is fascinated by the idea of firing a gun. So, when I was given the chance to cover the Ukiah Gun Club's Saturday Open House I tried to observe with the utmost professional journalistic objectivity and detachment. As you'll see from the pictures below taken by our Chief Photographer MacLeod Pappidas, that didn't last long.

Before we entered the black powder section of the shooting range I really didn't have any idea what that meant. As I found out from my instructor, Bob "Badger" Jones, (and yes, that is a badger pelt on his head) that actually meant the use of black powder, a lead ball and a replica flintlock.

As my only experience with these weapons centers around the few Civil War reenactments I've seen in my life and the Oregon Trail computer game I played in elementary school, we had to redo my turn with the weapon because I wasn't aware that the gun was a hair trigger. I found out what this meant when I was taking aim at the metal plate in front of me and the gun went off seemingly instantaneously after I touched the trigger. Mr. Badger was kind enough to reload for me.

One of the other aspects of the gun that amazed me was the amount of time it took someone even with as much experience as Mr. Badger to reload the weapon. He told me that a more advanced version used in the War of 1812 had all the components (the lead ball, the powder, the paper) in a single package that the operator would open with their teeth. I tried to picture myself replicating this action in the heat of battle. All I could see was myself accidentally ingesting a mouthful of gunpowder. This reminded of a portion of the Notorious B.I.G. song "Warning" where he says he feeds his rottweilers "gun powder so they can devour the criminals tryin' to clock my decimals". I figured this was probably an exaggeration of the positive effects of ingestion of the substance on Biggie's part, so I let Mr. Badger finish on his own.

As I watched this process unfold in front of me, I came to the conclusion that firing a gun back in the day was way harder not only because of the time involved, but the accessories required. There's the lead ball, the black powder, the paper and the cap you have to load on the top. Mr. Badger even showed me how the gun had an extra trigger you had to pull before the front one. I took aim and tried not to kill anyone.

This whole experience reaffirms my belief that: a) when used safely guns are actually pretty fun to shoot and b) were I forced to use a black powder rifle or any other primitive firearm to gather food in some survival-type situation, anyone depending on me for meat would probably do better searching for some edible moss or insects.

Posted by Rob Burgess at 11:52 AM | Permalink | Comments (3) | TrackBacks (0)

I am what some might call a “conspiracy theorist”.
This means that I’m willing to give some credence to just about any semi-plausible theory that has to do with the nature of the universe. That doesn’t mean I am required to believe them or hold them up to all be true (see: the “Paul Is Dead” theory), but it does mean that I’ve spent more time researching and thinking about Area 51 and