(Long Island, NY) A Farmingdale man was recently arrested for impersonating a police officer. When I first heard this story, I stopped my good friend Jena in the middle of the story so I could understand more clearly. “What do you mean, ‘impersonating?’” I asked. “Did the cops bust somebody for doing a bad impression of some flatfoot’s VOICE?”

She HAD to know I was kidding, but it didn’t stem the rising tide of anger in her voice. She started getting a bit nutty, ranting about morons and dingbats. I tried to get another word in edgewise, but she kept repeating the same phrase over and over; “Do you want FRIES with that?”

I was seriously concerned about the mental health of my friend. Jena is far too pretty to be locked up in an institution. I would have to take care of her myself. Building a padded room in the garage would be no trouble at all, but convincing her to wear a French maid’s outfit would be impossible if she were truly off her rocker. Besides which, she’s a friend and I have a strict no-funny-business policy with my friends, no matter how model-pretty they might be. I tried to steer us back on track, find out what was really bothering her.

“The guy who got arrested for impersonating an officer? What is making you so damn angry about his story?” I said. I was proud that it came out without a hint of worry.

“What really makes me crazy,” she said, “ is the REASON he was impersonating an officer.” I raised an eyebrow at her. Now we were getting somewhere. “Tell me why, love.”

She explained her view on crime. “If you are going to steal, it’s better to go for a million bucks. Something you can enjoy even if you have to go to jail first. Are you with me?”

I nodded, but still couldn’t see where it was all headed. I told her so.

“Where is it GOING? I’ll tell you where. That moron…”

I interrupted her. “Alleged moron, dear. We have to wait til the courts make it official.”

“All right, all right! The ALLEGED moron impersonated an officer so he could get into somebody’s house.” She looked at me like I would suddenly understand and start laughing along with her. “Don’t you get it? He was LOOKING for something, right? He wanted to steal something, so he knocked on the door and told the people at home that he was coming in to do a search.”

Well, it’s a bit unconventional for a robbery tactic in Farmingdale, but OK.

“So he gets inside and tears the place apart, and finds nothing. He told the people in the house that he wanted their stash.”

I played dumb, just to mess with her. “You mean like a box of Oreos you don’t want the wife to find?”

Jena made like she was going to slap me in the face, and made a big deal out of the fact that our fake cop was looking for dope. “He was just after the drugs! He didn’t get any money, he didn’t steal the teevee, he just wanted to GET HIGH!”

At this moment, she broke into the kind of crazy laughter that tells you everything is going to be all right. She was in hysterics over this idiot bogus cop. Me, I don’t get what’s so funny about it, aside from the fact that he was charged with second-degree burglary and first-degree phony cop. Jena says he should be charged with impersonating someone with a brain.

Of course, later on when I had time to think about it, I could see what probably set her off in the first place. Long Island has no shortage of politicians on the take, but nobody is arresting them for impersonating a decent elected official. Along comes John Q. Dope Fiend, just trying to do his part in getting drugs off the streets (by taking them in a helluva hurry), and he gets tossed in the slammer like a common apple thief. For shame!

And to think that former Islip Supervisor Pete McGowan was found guilty…of ANYTHING.

Oh, is THAT where this was going? Sorry folks, that is what we call “beating a dead horse”. Of course, in this day and age, we’ll have to come up with a more animal friendly metaphor lest we offend anyone’s sense of decency. Let’s call it flogging a soggy tofutti. Whatever the name, I think I’ve given McGowan the business long enough here. As far as the police impersonator goes? Somebody, maybe his lawyer, should advise him to save those kinds of games for Halloween, when EVERYBODY is a policeman, a construction worker, a French maid…

But that leads me back to my friend Jena, and we can’t be thinking about that again so soon, now, can we? This year she should dress up as a cop. It would be good for a laugh, and I could stop thinking bad thoughts.

(Long Island, NY) This week’s headlines prove once and for all that politicians not only look out for their own in an elaborate old-boy network; but also defy common sense in the mental gymnastics used to justify any sort of illegal behavior. Peter McGowan, former Islip Supervisor, was recently convicted of grand larceny, receiving bribes, and witness tampering. Now, Suffolk’s Democratic leader Richard Schaffer has gone on the record saying that he doesn’t believe that McGowan should go to prison. He thinks that the shame of being forced to resign as supervisor should be punishment enough.

Let’s run down those guilty verdicts again, shall we? Guilty on counts of receiving bribes, witness tampering, and GRAND LARCENY. Richard Schaffer sounds as if he’s taken leave of his senses. Grand larceny doesn’t require prison time? Hello? Is somebody talking?

Sorry about that, I was just trying to approximate the state of mind I imagine Richard Schaffer must have been in when he declared McGowan should get off scot-free, aside from having to resign, of course.

While we’re at it, Mister Schaffer, why don’t we give the guilty parties in the 1980s Savings and Loan scandal a nod and a wink? How about OJ Simpson? Saddam Hussein? What about all the GOOD things Mussolini did? Isn’t that the same mentality? Schaffer is probably, at this moment, drafting a formal apology letter to the family of Richard M. Nixon on behalf of the impeachment committee.

Wait a moment; I’ve gone off my rocker again.

I don’t think I can write any more on this subject without straying into uncharted waters dangerously close to libel, slander, defamation of character, or throwing rotten eggs. People wonder what the bloody hell is wrong with this country; Long Islanders now know it is partly to do with the fact that most of the population is paralyzed with unspeakable terror as they listen to the idiotic pronouncements of their local, state, and federal leadership; the citizenry cower in bed-wetting disbelief as our leaders take bold and uncompromising positions on behalf of convicted criminals found guilty of abusing the public trust.

Ladies and gentlemen, I submit that an army of rabid wolverines high on LSD-25 could do a better job of insuring faith in our local government than either McGowan or Schaffer. We have been warned; anyone who puts future trust in Schaffer or his cronies demonstrates a serious lack of judgment; their right to drive cars or own firearms should be suspended immediately.

Coming down a bit from my original frenzy of political angst, I now realize that I shouldn’t be at all surprised. One hand washes another; you scratch my back, etc. etc ad nauseum. Folks, I guess we’re starting to wake up to that old adage about getting the government we deserve. But how to “un-deserve” it? I imagine that the answer to that one probably has a lot to do with getting a MUCH higher turnout at the polls on election day, considerably more education for our youth about this thing called democracy, and for Mister Schaffer, a refresher course on criminal law, justice, and the oath of office.

Next time, perhaps he’ll keep his dingbat opinions to himself. I seriously hope not—we need to know the true colors of the people we have in power lest we be fooled for one second by all the other hot air they put forth on a regular basis. We actually should be thanking Schaffer, because now we all know that he is Part Of The Problem. See you at the ballot box, folks.

(Long Island, NY) It is quite difficult to believe that there is an actual political controversy over what language the National Anthem should be sung in. The answer to this question is quite simple and requires no debate whatsoever. See the end of this screed for my simple answer. Until then;

The real issue here is not whether or not patriotic songs, oaths, pledges of allegiance and the like should be given in English; the actual question is how much political pandering is necessary to maintain good standing as a member of local, state, or federal government.

This is not to imply that most politicians on either side of the debate—any debate—are empty-headed boobs without so much as a single original thought to their names. Nor is it a wholesale indictment of the shameless, pathetic way American politicians have conducted themselves since the days of Teddy Roosevelt.

This article should not be taken as a call for wholesale voter dissatisfaction, expressed by a complete rejection of all incumbent candidates, nor should it be viewed as a call for sweeping changes in the structure of American politics, which would eliminate such pandering on both sides of a given issue.

After all, that would be silly.

Immigrants to the United States should be given fair and equal treatment under the law. Having said that, immigration to this country is a privilege and not necessarily an inalienable right. There is a system; however ill-equipped, poorly run, badly managed and woefully under funded. America must not become the only modern industrialized nation on the face of the earth to jeopardize its very existence in its current form (for better or worse) by allowing wholesale, unregulated immigration from ANY other nation. Unfettered immigration is not only pure folly, it is also completely unsustainable.

The real immigration issue in America is twofold; American lawmakers are unwilling and unable to properly enforce existing laws. They legislate new laws, which add to the morass of bureaucracy, red tape, and inequality in the immigration system. Our current setup is just as unsustainable as unlimited access.

Lawmakers demonstrate their cowardice by refusing to fix the system. The lack of proper enforcement, re-regulation, or a complete overhaul, is killing people who try to cross into America illegally. The cowardice of our politicians turns into death at the border crossing. America’s politicians are too afraid of NOT being reelected to keep their fellow humans from dying.

That is not to suggest that Americans should take to the streets in protest over the apparent unwillingness of our elected officials to properly address the most widely discussed and publicized human rights issue of the day. Nor should this article be construed as an endorsement of the protests that have already occurred—or an encouragement of further protests until the matter begins to get serious attention by members of Congress.

After all, that might be a bit TOO constructive, eh? America should do what it does best. Stay complacent. Sit tight. Do nothing, and just watch television until our eyes bleed.

“Careful,” I caught myself muttering aloud, “somebody might actually believe that I actually MEANT that last bit.” It could happen. After all, there are people who actually AGREE with Jerry Falwell and Pat Robertson about…well, anything at all.

I said all that, rambling on and on about everything and nothing all at once, as a sort of preamble to my main point, which is this;

The National Anthem was written in English, and therefore should be sung in English. If that isn’t bloody simple enough, I don’t know what is. All the other problems, issues, and concerns will have to be debated further, preferably in any language our pinhead elected officials best understand.

(Long Island, NY) A writer uncovers much in his or her endless quest to dig up facts, figures, useable quotes and other data for publication. Writers have to learn how to turn on their BS detectors and filter out the useless, the self-serving, and the totally irrelevant soundbites, interview snippets and statistics. We also have to develop another skill-the gentle art of laughter suppression.

Imagine my reaction, when covering a news story about noise abatement around military bases, when I heard someone’s apparently serious suggestion that the government built a massive dome over the base so the jets could fly around without disturbing the neighbors.

The urge to laugh directly in someone’s face is VERY hard to quell.

I had a similar reaction when someone told me that “one hundred thousand illegal aliens were going to protest in the town square” in an attempt to raise awareness about the plight of illegal aliens. “No, no, no,” I tried to explain, these were one hundred thousand concerned citizens. “Some of them might be illegals, yes, but a large number of these people are legal citizens of the U.S. Otherwise, everyone at the rally would be risking deportation for taking part in this civil rights issue. It seemed too much of a gamble at the time.”

The person I was talking to didn’t have the art of laugh-suppression down pat, as he laughed right in my face. “You stupid gringo,” he finally choked out, “they are ALREADY deporting people for taking part in these rallies. Look at the huge crackdowns that are going on in places like Chicago. Businesses are getting raided, people are being arrested, hell, some of them aren’t even being sent out of the country. They are just getting rounded up for INS violations, detained, then let go, from what I hear in the news.”

He had a very good point. Regardless of the actual makeup of these protest crowds, there does seem to be a definite reprisal going on. Couple that with a few lame comments from George W. Bush about how he “privately” wished illegals could be given citizenship, and we have the makings of a full-blown Nixon-style assault on a civil rights movement.

It doesn’t really matter much that there are a number of people in this country illegally; it doesn’t matter that they knowingly broke the law and continue to do so. What really DOES matter is the fact that year after year goes by with no real enforcement of existing laws, coupled with mush-mouthed attempts to pass even more laws to make illegal residence in this country a felony. Did you read that correctly? A FELONY. Never mind that we never bothered to enforce the laws on the books NOW. “Oh, forget about THAT, and don’t confuse me with the FACTS.” You local policymakers are likely to say, “We need a law with TEETH.”

Oh, and what were the previously issued laws, lip service?

Personally, I don’t think that unlimited immigration, legal or not, is sustainable. However, I also believe that human beings should be treated as such and not be denied medical care, food, shelter or any other necessity of life. Giving an illegal alien a drivers license is madness—name one other country that give such latitude to anyone who overstays the dates on their travel visa? No, that is NOT the answer. But neither is the insane, discriminatory, unjustly arbitrary and capricious system we have in place now. I know people who have fought long and hard to get to America by the legal means now in place—they are treated poorly, given the runaround and overcharged by dishonest lawyers who are, in reality, no better than the Coyotes who bring illegals across twenty-to-a-truck.

Folks, these protest rallies are going to get more frequent, more outspoken, and possibly violent due to racial tensions, clashes with the police, misunderstandings, and the other usual causes. If something isn’t done to change the current untenable situation for people trying to get into the U.S. we risk a period of civil unrest at least as bad as the 1960s. That era had many positive changes so it is entirely possible that America NEEDS another explosion of activism and awareness. However, if that unrest brings with it the same kinds of violence and police brutality that the sixties had, (but updated for the new millennium) we face grim times indeed.

(Long Island, NY) A recent Associated Press headline reads: “Accuser in Duke Case Filed a Rape Report 10 Years Ago.” While this may be considered a strict reporting of facts relevant to the case, it also exposes a continuing problem with the coverage and handling of sensitive legal cases.

Everyone knows the accuser in a rape case is put on trial just as vigorously as the defendants. Lawyers on both sides bring out the most sordid details possible to help their cause. Both accuser and accused go on trial in the media long before a decision is made by a jury of peers in the courtroom.

No one knows this better than British actor Craig Charles, star of the BBC cult favorite show Red Dwarf. Charles was accused of rape, ultimately exonerated, and ultimately became a spokesperson for public anonymity in rape accusations. His story became very public, and unfortunately, many considered him guilty before he had a chance to get his day in court. In the end, the case was a focal point for several media critics who debated the anonymity issue. Charles himself may have been publicly humiliated, but at least his plight became fodder for serious debate.

Closer to home, during the Kobe Bryant rape case, the issue of the Rape Shield law was brought up as a point of contention based on certain aspects of the case. Such laws are designed to prevent a rape victim from having his or her sexual history used against them in court. The media made much out of the sex histories of both defender and accuser.

These two issues may seem unconnected, but they really aren’t. The reason? Neither of them gets paid much attention to when it comes to coverage of high profile rape cases; the defendant and the accuser alike are put on trial in the press, anonymity is a joke. The way media outlets treat rape cases is near tantamount to putting both sides in shackles in the town square for ridicule. For the defendant, it’s usually cries of “pervert!” and “we know you’re guilty!” For the accuser, “slut!” and “prove it!” accompany equally vehement cries of “victim!” and “revenge!” Regardless of which side one supports in a given case, all of these points of view are speculation. The media may give extensive coverage to both sides of a case, but in the end, public opinion on both sides is still grossly uninformed. There are facts no journalist will ever be privy to; many of these are discussed in private with investigators or lawyers.

The very idea that a person reading the newspaper or watching television could have in informed opinion about ANY court case is unrealistic. In the case of rape it borders on the absurd.

Besides which, rape, technically speaking, is not news. It IS a crime, it is deplorable and there should be swift penalties for those found guilty of sexual assault. What it is NOT is newsworthy-not in the strictest sense. Those who disagree may want to get answers to the following questions;

1. How many people does this news story affect? If the story relates to the plight of all rape victims, coverage of such a case is not only warranted, it may be a civic responsibility. Whether or not the victim or accuser happens to be famous should be a moot point. Which leads us to question two.
2. Does the media’s coverage of the case raise societal issues or concerns? Or does the press handling of the case seem more like a daytime soap opera subplot? The issues raised by the INITIAL coverage of the Duke rape case were quite valid; do college athletes have the right to flaunt the rules and regulations of the institutions that support their athletic work? Do these students—let’s not forget they are students—have the right to hold parties that include strippers, potentially dangerous amounts of alcohol consumption, possible drug use, etc, and still operate in good standing as members of a college athletic department?
3. At what point does the daily coverage of these cases become self-perpetuating? That is to say, at what point does the media’s coverage of this case become redundant and obviously sensationalistic? In the eyes of some, coverage of the Duke case has already passed this point and gone well beyond.

In the end, the responsibility rests with those who report the news. If they are comfortable with the current status quo, it may be time to raise the issue in a public forum, as did the English press in the wake of the Craig Charles case. The sordid details of rape cases-including names and sexual histories-belong in the courtroom. They do not NEED to be splashed across every newspaper and television screen in America. To imply that they do—beyond concerns for rape awareness and civic responsibility—exposes the heart of American news reporting for what it has become in the last twenty years; an ever increasing hunger for ratings, publicity, and supremacy in the highly competitive arena of reporting.

If this is to be the continued state of things in American reporting, it may be time to apply a label other than “news” for the product churned out by American media outlets. A different, suitably four-letter word may be more accurate.

(Long Island, NY) It is bad enough to pay the insurance fees, maintenance and upkeep without adding a skyrocketing price tag for gas to our car-owner woes. An insult, I say, to expect us to keep on forking over more cash to drive these metal death boxes along the concrete graveyard, er, Long Island Expressway. Enough is enough!

I personally am planning on driving as little as possible until the price of gas creeps back down to a more reasonable two dollars per gallon. I currently drive to a single destination round trip, the rest of my excursions are done via shoe leather, bicycle, or public transportation. I am on gas-buying STRIKE, and so should all of you.

The only reason that prices are so bloody high on ANYTHING is that manufacturers know we are willing to pay up. If a massive boycott of gasoline suddenly appeared out of nowhere, prices would drop back down to a more acceptable level.

The boycott is NOT an ineffective tool. It worked for that crazy Reverend Donald Wildmon; back in the 80s he contacted the corporate suits of 7-11 and threatened a massive boycott unless they took Playboy off the floor and put it behind the counter. It’s time to take the Reverend’s tactics and use it for something that might actually do some GOOD. A public, noisy and very dedicated refusal to buy gasoline in this country would do wonders, not only for our national morale, but also for our security. A serious gas boycott would send a clear message to OPEC and the countries that hold the keys to the gasoline kingdom.

Is anybody listening? This is serious stuff—we need a boycott at the pump now more than we did during the energy crisis of the 1970s. It’s high time to show these companies we mean business. It would be sheer insanity to encourage people to carry picket signs at local gas stations, to instruct them in the old protest chants newly modified to fit modern times. Cries of “Go Away, We Won’t Pay!” could drown out the sounds of Muzak in the air-conditioned cashier’s cage at your local Shell, BP, Amoco, Exxon, whatever.

Insane indeed. But absolutely necessary.

Long Islanders, I am ashamed of you for not doing this ALREADY. It is high time to take a stand; refuse to buy so much as one gallon of gas and we shall see how long it takes before these oil companies are falling all over themselves to get us all re-addicted to gas again.

One parting thought. Gasoline is far more dangerous than cigarettes, yet we can’t seem to break our addiction to the rotten stuff. Shouldn’t we start thinking in terms of kicking the habit, rather than trying to be with the cool kids who all think that smoking-sorry-gasoline use makes us COOL? Forget trying to fit in with the in-crowd, people. This habit isn’t just killing US; it’s wrecking the planet and giving a bunch of faceless corporate zombies at the oil companies control of our entire economy. So quit driving already. I’m nearly there myself. Together, we could do it…

(Long Island, NY) An East Islip woman has her credit cards stolen from her purse while she was in a Bay Shore park. That theft has turned into a massive case of retail fraud bringing the police in on a case potentially worth more than forty thousand dollars. The Islip woman probably never expected to lose her cards in such a place. The card thief was most likely counting on that.

Why, some will ask, didn’t the woman cancel her credit cards? Why did the case escalate into a five-figure spending spree? It’s simple; the victim didn’t know she had been robbed. Her credit card companies had to alert her to the outrageous sums that were being spent in her name. Imagine being the one to take THAT call.

The way credit card thieves work is based on the amount of time they believe they have before the cards are reported stolen. Most thieves go right to work once they get their hands on a card. Time is very short, and they know it. The usual method of operation is to go from store to store, buying as much loot as they can without attracting too much suspicion. Those who deal in stolen credit cards know that after a certain dollar amount, the card issuer may be contacted to verify a large-dollar purchase.

Usually, purchases are made for between $175 and $400, depending on the store. Once the thieves run a card to the max, they can then get down to the business of selling, returning or otherwise disposing of the merchandise for cash. Sometimes the merchandise is put up for auction on Ebay, other times it is sold to a ‘fence’ or returned to the store for cash.

Fenced merchandise usually can’t be recovered unless the storehouse is raided by the police before the items hit the market. Ebay items are also hard to trace as being stolen unless the auctioneer is caught red-handed dealing in stolen goods. It is very difficult to catch up with what was bought with your credit cards.

What isn’t so difficult is controlling your cards to help prevent this type of situation. The best protection a consumer has is the phrase “See ID” written in place of a signature on the back of the credit card. Card thieves hate this practice because they know they cannot use a card with a different name. If the thieves are lucky enough to get your ID along with the cards this may help them out a bit, but requiring the ID still makes a thief’s day harder.

Another way to protect yourself is to purchase any identity theft insurance your card company may offer. Some feel this is an unnecessary expense; usually that feeling lasts only until the credit cards are stolen. Fixing the barn door once the cows have come home isn’t the best solution—if you can afford the expense, identity theft insurance is well worth the cost.

The case of the East Islip woman’s stolen credit cards has not been closed as of this writing. It serves as a reminder to all of us to better protect our cards, be more watchful and know that there are plenty of opportunists out there ready to take advantage of a chance to grab something that isn’t theirs. Even in a public park.

(Long Island, NY) Did you know that at least one ancient civilization mixed chocolate with hot pepper? That the Swiss consume the most chocolate per person in the entire world? Did you know you can buy a TEN POUND Toblerone chocolate bar? I found all this out after I tried to STOP eating the stuff. Why did I torture myself with details of all this lovely chocolate?

Reverse Psychology. Or rather, a failed experiment in reverse psychology. I wanted to cut saturated fat and excess sugar out of my diet, and I figured a good place to start would be steak and chocolate. By getting rid of these two big portions of my regular food intake, I figured I could lower my cholesterol, lose a bit of weight and feel healthier than I have in years.

Notice that I didn’t throw in any details about steak in my opening avalanche of trivia. I figured everybody already knew that sirloin is the most popular cut of beef, that tenderloin is the most tender (hence the name?) and that if you see “loin” or “round” in a steak name, that cut is one of the leanest.

I ditched the trivia because giving up steak is tougher (sorry) than giving up chocolate. If I talked about steak for the entire length of this screed, I’d be eating it again just as soon as I stopped typing. Chocolate, I can use some willpower on.

I used to be very into chocolate, like a junkie. I had to have some at my desk, I had to put it in my coffee (it’s called a MOCHA, kids. This is not an illness.) and when they made chocolate peppermint-flavored caffeinated mints, I was READY to over-do it. My friends probably wish I had given up chocolate a long time ago, if only to get down to a more reasonable caffeine level.

I’m a writer. I NEED caffeine. So sue me.

Back to chocolate trivia. I read up on it a LOT once I quit eating it. I thought maybe I could make myself sick of thinking about it. After all, chocolate is what some people call a psychoactive food. There is a compound in chocolate called theobroma cacao, which can give you a feeling of well being in sufficient doses. After learning this, I reminded myself that I am a FOOD lover, not a dope fiend. But it would explain why some people (I mean myself here) find it so difficult to break free of the grip of this sweet sugary stuff.

Chocolate also has that stuff that is in turkey that makes you sleepy after thanksgiving. My personal theory now is that the combination of the two substances makes it a powerful dessert capable of making you pleasantly sleepy and dopey. Like you had a beer. But not any old beer, a CHOCOLATE beer.

Ok, this is going a bit too far. I can’t even shake my desire for chocolate long enough to write about how I shouldn’t be eating it. George Bush should declare the stuff a drug and go to war on it. It’s more pernicious than that demon rum they railed against during Prohibition; more insidious than marijuana. It’s EVERYWHERE, and I want to eat ALL of it. Still, I’ve vowed to give it up and I mean to exercise my willpower. I must not give in to the urges I feel. I can be strong. I can DO IT! I don’t need a program, I don’t need self hypnosis, I just need to keep my hands in my pockets every time I pass a vending machine and keep chanting to myself. “Not gonna do it, not gonna do it.”

Having said all that, I’m off for a steak sandwich. A man can only take so much.

(Long Island, NY) I woke up this morning, hurriedly stuffed some peanut butter in my mouth, and got right in to a can of ice-cold Starbucks iced coffee. It disappeared in about two seconds. Damn those evil Starbucks people, they gave me yet another EMPTY CAN! Well, it had been full two seconds ago. I can’t quite understand how it disappeared so quickly, but a lady friend once observed my daily ritual and wrinkled her nose in mild disgust.

“Don’t you savor…ANYTHING?”

Well, of course I do, dear girl. But first thing in the morning, the desperate journalist is not interested in savoring ANYTHING except the sudden jolt of caffeine, the widening eyes, the hyper-alertness of the dedicated coffee-slammer.

There are times when I force myself to go cold turkey, because I get myself so far gone that I must drink the evil brew round the clock to stave off the shakes. It’s the old, old story. One Double-shot leads to two, which leads to three, and before you know it, you’re jittery and upset whether you’ve had your coffee or not. It makes you an evil human being, the kind that grows fangs and claws in rush hour traffic. You roll down your windows, snarling and spitting at anyone driving even one mile per hour below the speed limit. Don’t they UNDERSTAND? The rest of us are REALLY IN A HURRY!

In a hurry to go to the bathroom, that is. After all, the side effects to being a 12-hour-a-day java junkie is an endless run back and forth. Horrible. Cold turkey MUST happen when you can’t even count how many times you must leave the room to go to the used coffee department.

The other day, while musing about being such a caffeine-head, I spotted a news story about Rupert Everett’s crusade against a Starbucks going up in his neck of the woods. Everett was upset because there were already plenty of pushers, er, coffee shops in the area, and the presence of Starbucks represented an over saturation, plus the encroachment of corporate nonsense into the otherwise independent business culture of the area.

I sympathize with this notion, as we all know what happens when the cookie-cutter businesses start muscling in where the mom-and-pops and indies are now. Bad things happen. Mom and pop can’t compete any more, they fold up and go home. Suddenly those home made goodies you loved so well are gone, replaced by some kind of mass-produced starchy dough with a sprinking of chocolate-flavored tar on top. The relaxed chats over a single cup? Gone. That cute, gossipy young lady with the green hair working her way thru college? Out of a job. She’ll have to go down the road to Starbucks and be one of five cute gossipy young things with green hair, instead of being the cool anomaly she was at the mom-n-pop. Good bye, individualism, good bye home-baked treats, good-bye quirky acoustic music open mic nite.

Everett wants his quaint old mom-n-pop café, and I agree. There is nothing at all in the world like home made cookies, tarts, pastry of any kind. It doesn’t matter what the COFFEE tastes like, after all, for junkies like me it’s gone in 60 seconds anyway.

For me, the REAL evil of Starbucks is how easy they make it to get hooked. Those convenient cans of iced coffee, perfect for when you are in too much of a hurry to wait in line for somebody to make your double-tall-extra-shot-skim-milk-gorilla-biscuit-a-la-mode-honey-encrusted-iced-goldfrapp-a-chino. The mom-n-pop outfit wants you to come in, get comfy, and stay a while. Make yourself at home, relax, and SAVOR something. Those of us hooked on that other place have no time for relaxation, we need our fix and we don’t even care if we can taste it.

I hope Rupert Everett wins his crusade, as the world needs more mom-n-pop businesses to thrive and survive. As for my neighborhood, I’m afraid it’s far too late. Starbucks is right across the street, and the whole block would set themselves on fire if the place ever closed up shop. We’d just lay down in the road and howl for an 18-wheeler to come and run us all over. We’re doomed, hooked for life, and there’s nothing anybody can do to save us. If Rupert Everett’s neighborhood gets one, he’ll be doomed like all the rest, and he knows it. That’s why he wants to stop the addiction before it starts. Save the indie coffee house, where people can sit down and savor.

I don’t know where any of this was really going, and I’m not sure I’ll care until I get another cup of coffee. I think it had something to do with Starbucks being the biggest drug pusher in the whole world, but I know that it’s nobody’s fault but our own. We keep buying the stuff, all of us bleary-eyed early morning zombies, shuffling down to the place where the gulping is easy. We could all just make the damn black sludge at home, but it’s too much trouble, all that measuring, water pouring, filter changing, coffee pot cleaning…we just… keep…going…to…Starbucks. It’s easy. It’s fun. It’s at least 25 bucks a week, a hundred a month, 1200 dollars a year all poured down my throat as quickly as I can get the stuff in me for the rush, the buzz, the reason to live.

It’s too late for me, but there’s still time for Rupert.

(Long Island, NY) It used to be a problem “somewhere else.” For many years now, Air National Guard units are called upon to help battle wildfires across the nation, using a combination of “smoke eater” crews on the ground and airborne crews who drop fire retardant on the blazes. The amount of burned acreage is enormous, causing environmental problems, health issues for asthma and emphysema sufferers, and big insurance headaches for those with homes in the path of the fires.

Many states struggle with summer fires. California, Montana, Colorado, Arizona and several other states find themselves fighting a combination of man-made fire problems, blazes started by lightning strikes and other phenomena.

Now, Long Island is experiencing its own little version of the environmental nightmare that other states deal with year after year. A recent blaze which started in Deer Park brought power outages and a suspension of the Long Island Railroad service in some sections. Dry brush, a lack of rain and low humidity combined to make conditions fire-friendly. At the time of this writing, no estimate has been made as to damages or acreage burned.

Conservationists on Long Island will remind us that more than seven million acres were destroyed by wildfires in America last year. While the Deer Park fire is certainly not as massive as the wildfires in California or Montana, the concerns for those living in the area are exactly the same. How big will the blaze get? Should we evacuate? What could happen to our homes? And most importantly, could another fire break out?

In 1995, Long Island saw its driest summer in seven decades. Two fires in August burned more than five thousand acres, and in the wake of the disaster many Long Islanders voiced concern about the potential for future fires. Nobody wants a duplicate of the 1995 disaster. Interest in wildfires has grown considerably-one New York fire fighting academy saw a jump in enrollment from about 100 people to over six hundred for a course that includes a how-to on battling wildfires.

This year’s conditions aren’t nearly as awful as those that contributed to the ’95 disaster, but that won’t make the 900 Long Island Power Authority customers who lost power thanks to the Deer Park blaze any less concerned.

With all this concern, what can the average person do to make things any better? The short answer is ‘not much,’ but also ‘quite a lot.’ In the ‘not much’ department, the dry hot weather that makes conditions ripe for a sudden fire are quite out of our control; in the “quite a lot” category, being mindful of the dryness can go a long way towards preventing a wildfire. Lit cigarettes, fireworks, poorly extinguished campfires and other sources of sparks or open flame are very much in the control of you and me. The old cliché is really true-only YOU can prevent forest fires, and there are plenty of instances where fire investigators have discovered human causes for the burns in Montana, California and elsewhere. We have NOT developed past the point of being able to abandon the cliché just yet.

There are other causes for fire that aren’t as obvious as the abandoned campfire. Under the right conditions, sparks from a passing railroad car can ignite grassland growing by the side of the tracks. A lightning strike can ignite dry timber. This is where readiness training for local firefighters comes in. Sometimes, getting on top of a problem quickly and efficiently is the only way to prevent disaster. Much depends on the weather—if there is sufficient moisture, dry timber isn’t as much of an issue, grassy areas aren’t as prone to the dryness that can contribute to an out-of-control blaze.

When it comes to fire prevention, the human factor shouldn’t be discounted, even in wetter weather. Guaranteed, those living near the fire zones in Montana, California, and Colorado have a much higher awareness of what can cause and aggravate a wildfire. The key to keeping Long Island as fire-free as possible is to bring that heightened awareness to LI. Support of local fire departments, conservation groups, and ecological concerns are part of that awareness. Educating out-of-state visitors about the local dangers through appropriate publicity campaigns, activism, and even warning signs in outdoor areas can go a long way towards preventing a wildfire. It worked for decades thanks to a little cartoon character called Smokey Bear. These days, a bit more may be required, but the central message is the same; it is up to us to prevent future disasters like the burn of 1995.