HometownSource Blogs

U.S. attorney Rachel Paulose, with ICE, St. Paul and Minneapolis police, and other federal agents, broke up a sex slave ring comprised of illegal immigrants. Apparently, women were brought into the country and held as slaves, and forced to perform sex. Of the defendants, most of the 25 were here illegally, as were all the victims. Seems pretty straightforward, yes? Chalk one up for the good guys? Not so fast. If you read Kare 11’s piece, entitled “Questions surround Paulose and officers in prostitution arrests,” there is no end to people lining up to criticize Paulose and the arrest.

First you have the always available protesters:

…protesters said they were upset that Minneapolis police appeared to be violating police department policy by assisting immigration agents with the arrests.

Huh? First of all, illegal immigration is a crime, even in Minneapolis (more on that later). Secondly, why were the protesters not applauding law enforcement? The victims in the case are all illegal immigrants and were rescued from a horrible fate. As is often the case, protests focus on one group of “victims” over another, largely dependent on which group was “victimized” by the U.S. government. So instead of thanks for saving untold illegal immigrants from slavery, Paulose, the feds, law enforcement, and the city of Minneapolis get stiffed.

Nevertheless, in keeping with the totally unexplainable fear many left of center politicians have of anyone holding up a sign, Minneapolis officials rushed to assure protesters that they have no intention of enforcing the law:

…Minneapolis Mayor R.T. Rybak and Police Chief Tim Dolan were e-mailing the media to say, as they’ve said before, that Minneapolis police officers “will not enforce immigration policy.”

Considering that the location of the sex ring and much of the clientele appear to have been in Minneapolis, one has to wonder how long it was permitted to operate unchecked so Minneapolis could curry favor with the pro-illegal immigration lobby. As well, did the fact that Minneapolis is a sanctuary city factor at all in the decision to set up a sex ring there?

Women - sex slaves - were rescued. Who knows how many future victims were spared a similar fate. Now, Paulose and the various agencies are on the hot seat for doing their jobs, while Minneapolis is trying to get out from under by insisting it didn’t, and won’t.

And all of this seems perfectly logical, apparently, to the media covering the story.

An open afternoon sends me off to Lake Maria State Park, a few miles west of Monticello. The park is about 1600 acres of woods, lakes, ponds and marshland, and on this particular Tuesday I share it with practically no one, aside from the resident wildlife. A few years back we’d rented a camper cabin on the north side, but I wanted to go back and walk the trails to the south, which include backpacker sites dotted here and there, and a small lake suitable for paddling.

With a sky peeking sun and a threat of rain, heading down the trail under the density of spring leaf gives a clear sense of early evening. It’s not even three. The air is warm and maybe eighty, thick enough with humidity to breathe in moisture, but comfortable. After awhile, the trail opens up and Bjorkland Lake appears. Birds flitting about the marshland glance at me, categorize my presence as insignificant, and go back to their business. They’re apparently in the business of flitting.

Bjorkland is a small lake, a slough in many quarters, with little accessible shoreline. A few state-rentable canoes are racked beside a broken and partly submerged small dock; its clear that this remote part of the park gets less attention when budgets are slim. And in this era, slim budgets are the norm for Minnesota parks.

I spend a half hour or so near the marshes of Bjorkland, scouting another campsite as clouds darken to the west. Then the low grumble of thunder moves me back up the Big Woods Loop.

The trail runs under a stand of mixed and old-growth hardwoods, granting a brief hint of Wright County as it was 150 years ago, before settlement and agricultural clear-cutting altered the landscape.

The rain comes, reasonably heavy, but I walk another half-mile under the canopy of these old maple, basswood and oak, with scarcely a drop reaching me.

Back at the trailhead, the skies open up and let me have it. Even so, when I stop to dig for car keys, there’s no hurry.

Before leaving the park, I drive up the road to Lake Maria proper. While vacant today as well, this is the area that draws the most attention, with a picnic area, interpretive trail, open shoreline and boat launch.

Near the launch my path is blocked by a wandering turtle. Lake Maria State Park is well-known for it’s rare Blanding’s turtles, but this is a the far more common painted turtle.

I get out to see what he’s up to, and he scurries off in the other direction. The turtle doesn’t seem to care where he’s going, so long as it’s away from me. I follow him(him?) up a little slope and find another painted turtle, this one in the process of digging a nest. She’s wary of me as well, but is near finished with her hole - a flask-shaped dig where she’ll drop and then bury her eggs - and is not about to bail until her work is done. I find myself questioning her choice of locale, so near to a lot of foot-traffic and even truck traffic, given some of the lame driving habits that occur at boat launches. Later on, I’ll read that sandy slopes with southern sun exposure are preferred nesting sites, and this spot fits that description to a tee. If the incubation temp lingers near 84 degrees, the offspring will be of mixed gender. Colder and they’ll all be males, warmer and they’ll all be females. Go figure.

Tonight the vaunted Chisago Lakes Ocelots put their undefeated record, and second place position, up against East Select Soccer (Duluth) in a 12-year-old girl soccer smackdown. I’m having trouble deciding whether I should go with Vince Lombardi - “Winning isn’t everything, it’s the only thing” - Herb Brooks - “You were born to be a player…” - or simply go with my own trademark “win or walk home” inspirational speech.

As a coach, I have to make these kinds of make-or-break, life-and-death decisions every day.

UPDATE: Game called on account of lightning. At the time the Ocelots were ahead 1-0 and on their way to a stunning victory, no doubt inspired by coach Pat’s “when I say get here a half an hour before game time, I mean a half an hour” pre-game pontification.

Jules Crittendon, Boston Herald city editor and columnist, hammers the AP, which has created a brand new “grim milestone” - the amount of casualities in Iraq between Memorial Days. Crittendon reports the context AP doesn’t:

Since Memorial Day last year, we’ve seen Anbar turn, we’ve seen Sunni-Shiite reconciliation become popular enough that Moqtada al-Sadr is now trying to get in front of it. We’ve seen businesses reopen and people return to their homes in Baghdad. We’ve seen Shiite militias aggressively engaged and Sunni insurgents on the run. We’ve seen the number of sectarian murders drop. Those facts typically get buried when they are mentioned at all, unless there’s an uptick in death, when they suddenly become news again, to be cited as evidence of failure. AP prefers its milestones grim.

Read it all. After all, Memorial Day is about remembering the sacrifice and accomplishments or our bravest citizens.

On the subject of smoking and related insurance costs, HB comments:

This matter of insurance is a big one, though. Insurance costs get passed along to the public at large, whether directly, in the case of subsidized health care (low-income, seniors, veterans, etc.) or indirectly, through premiums that I suspect don’t vary nearly enough based on personal behavior and history. And of course, whether a person brought a condition on themselves or not, they have to be treated. Therein lies the quandary, for me at least.

This is an argument used often by the anti-smoking crowd (not to suggest that HB is a member) and is somewhat of a Pandora’s Box. First of all, there is evidence to suggest that, through taxes and premiums, smokers already pay for themselves, health care-wise. They also tend to live shorter lives, thus putting less burden on Social Security and private pensions. It’s not impossible that when all is said and done, rather than non-smokers subsidizing smokers, the opposite is true.

Theoretically, if that were the case, should “health nuts” be taxed and charged for health care at a higher rate because they live longer, creating a better chance for higher health care costs and a greater burden on social safety nets?

Secondly, how far do we want to go with this risk model for health care costs? Should young applicants be genetically studied for inherent risks of heart disease, cancer, diabetes, etc? Since she is likely to cost the system much more later in life, should a young woman at risk for breast cancer be charged more for health care?

Ironically, using this model would create the lowest costs for someone who with a zero risk factor. The greatest reward would go to the person who sits on his couch all day, in a padded environment, wearing his patented “life helmet.” This, of course, would create a society of obese couch potatoes afraid to do anything like ride a bike, climb a mountain, play hockey, or generally do anything that would put their bargain basement health premium at risk.

It seems that the idea of risk-based health premiums is fine in theory, put in practical application is all but impossible to factor. It would also create an invasion of privacy so great as to place any employee of the ACLU at immediate risk for a heart attack, thus raising its insurance premiums.

Chad the Elder has some friendly advice for the Strib regarding the ongoing columnist fight between Katherine Kersten and Nick Coleman:

If they were smart (insert joke here), they’d let it go for a while. Nothing like a little conflict to attract attention and sell papers (”Coleman-Kersten battle continues, read all about it!”). They could run online polls on who has the upper hand, let readers chime in with e-mails and letters, and maybe even schedule a live debate between the two scribes.

Better yet, they could don the gloves, insert the mouthguards, and just start throwing. If it ever does come to that, the smart money is on Kersten.

Most people on their birthday, await gifts and appreciate lots of presents.

On my birthday this week, I took something away. My wife Judy has been after me for some time to shave off my moustache that I have had adorn my Norwegian sculpture for more than 37 years. Actually, I shaved it off when my son was born. Yes, he’s 37. Check out the hairy history of the moustache at Wikipedia.

Judy has continued to coax me recently to shave it off, saying it’s nothing more than a “soup strainer” and a “booger catcher.” She’s maybe right but it’s also been a part of me so long, that I actually got sick to my stomach when I smeared on shave cream and began the process of removal. Pretty silly, huh?

I told her it was like cutting off an ear. “You can grow it back, but not your ear,” she fired back.

I decided to go ahead with it, because I didn’t really know what I would look like either. Many people said I would look younger so that was enough of incentive to give it a try. As I stroked off the grey hairs beneath my nose, I did see a different character emerging.

Judy and I were curious how many would even notice. The first person I saw at work, Colleen, busted me right away. Several accounting department women also asked me to turn around and show off the new look. “You look naked,” joked Linda Lindahl.

As the day went on, more and more people noticed but there were others that I was sure would notice, actually did not. That reaction caused me to think that the “stache” was not that significant a part of my persona.

I sent a photo of my new look to some of my family members and my sister quickly e-mailed me, saying I should start growing it back “right now.” I am but it may take me a few weeks. I grew a beard for Forest Lake’s Centennial observance in 1993 and it took me three months to get a decent growth.

Anyone who has tried to grow a moustache or beard, knows that it is easier for some and more difficult for others. I know I will never compete in any beard and moustache championship contests.

No, my hairstyle is not expected to change in the near future. I have a heavy crop of hair, it’s very grey but it’s not coming off. Understand?

It’s strange how a few hairs can change one’s personality.

A huge thumbs-up to Rachel Kytonen, Greg Hunt, and Jon Tatting, of the Isanti County News, for their in depth report on the smoking ban’s affect on local business owners and patrons. I wish I had done it.

Many quoted in the story echoed a sentiment I have made often: there is nothing public about restaurants and bars. They are private establishments and people already have the freedom to avoid them if they so choose. “The freedom to breath,” in other words, already existed.

Moreover, the option of going smoke-free was already there for any business.

There is no doubt the ban is going to hurt business, primarily small business. In a border area like my hometown, smokers will simply cross the river into Wisconsin. That’s what I intend to do.

It stinks because those businesses in Minnesota did nothing to earn this “punishment.” But I don’t go to the bar to support local business. I go there to have a good time and Minnesota just made that a lot harder. The last thing anyone wants is the nanny state breathing down their neck when they are out on the town. And really, who goes to the bar concerned about their healthy lifestyle?

Do we really imagine that people are out there are terribly concerned about their lungs at the very moment they are actively attacking liver function?

Now that scientists and pundits finally have access to the actual IPCC report on climate change and not just a summary, the dismantling has begun. Roger Pielke Sr., a Ph.D. in meterology and research scientist at UC Boulder, has dedicated an entire blog to the proposition.

He has chosen two first chapter errors(pdf) to highlight, and one of them is so obvious it hardly needs a climate expert to figure out:

“Projecting changes in climate due to changes in greenhouse gases 50 years from now is a very different and much more easily solved problem than forecasting weather patterns just weeks from now. To put it another way, long-term variations brought about by changes in the composition of the atmosphere are much more predictable than individual weather events.” [from page 105]

This is the idea that, the further out the forecast, the more accurate it becomes. Despite the fact that it defies all common sense, as Pielke notes, it forms the basis for the entire IPCC report.

In some ways it makes sense to push the claim. It absolves the models of holy cow errors like failing to predict Antarctic temperature changes, or cooling oceans in the short term by insisting they will get better over the long term. When the models have been so worthless in the short term (10 years or so), either the claim must be made or the models thrown out.

Of course, the beauty of the claim is that there will be no real way to prove it wrong for another 50 years.

Here’s my prediction: By then nobody will even care. It’s quite probable that the theory of global warming won’t even survive the decade. Then again, as a committed agnostic I have also booked a spot for my family on the ark.

Just in case.

Yes I do.

Interesting irony in that though. After a year of trips to Coon Rapids, endless meetings filled with blog advocacy, “brown bag” lunches to spread the infectious pastime to others, and a level of excitement that has aroused suspicion of my overall coffee consumption, I can’t think of a single thing to say.

Not. A. Single. Thing.

Surely it can’t last, can it?

Watching the ballgame last night, and the Texas pitcher Kameron Loe went down in the count against Justin Morneau of the Twins. Loe ran it to 3-0, then brought in a strike on Morneau’s compulsory take. So now a 3-1 count, perfect environment for a slugger.

My daughter gets up from the sofa and asks if she can get a snack.

“Sure,” I say, “but first you need to watch this home run.” She turns to the screen and, on cue, Morneau swats the next pitch over the centerfield wall.

“How you’d know that would happen?” she asks. “Experience,” I say, with proper dramatic pause.

Now, it’s very important that I never ever try this trick again. Because at this moment I am the soothsayer of baseball fans within the confines of my household, all-knowing, all-seeing. Things can only go down hill from here.

From the fine researchers over at McSweeneys: The White House Conditions Under Which Harriet Myers and Karl Rove Will Testify Before Congress.

As the financial cost of the Iraq War approaches half a trillion dollars, I was referred to a locally-built Web site/calculator estimating the bill on an individually-taxed basis. I pounded in some rough income levels for the last four years, figuring it might be a substantial result, and… PAZOWZA! Thousands per person for each year of the war, and no end in sight.  Hoo-boy.

Just last week all those local teevee news folk were warning how a nickel-per-gallon gas tax could cost me hundreds per year. Well hey, that’s corn feed (E85 at that) compared to my war tax, and at least the potholes get fixed.

I hustled on over to the Taxpayer’s League Web site. Surely those guardians of our pocketbooks would have a sternly-worded position on the matter. The TPL of MN may focus on state and local taxes, but they’ve never been bashful about federal matters.

So, let’s see, we appear to be overfunding schools, and public transit is an enormous waste of our dollars, nothing on the war, new stadiums very bad, better try a search - war funding - oop there we go. From just last September…

You’re cordially invited to a talk entitled “Why We Must Stay the Course in Iraq” by America’s most renowned military historian, Victor Davis Hanson.

Oooo-kay, so to review.  Most taxes: bad.  But gigantic, endless taxes that are part of a reckless neo-conservative agenda? Good.

Over at YouTube, someone’s got 100 movies with 100 quotes featuring 100 numbers, counted down for your convenience. Now that’s entertainment. [via kottke]

Down there in Minneapolis, between 5th and 7th streets, comes the glorious sound of tearing pavement and dump trucks. After all the political hyperbole and hand-wringing, real stadium work is finally underway, as a parking lot is hauled off to make way for something better. For those who tally baseball as one of mankind’s greater endeavors, dump trucks have never looked shinier.

This past weekend, a good number of Twins fans were out in Milwaukee for the annual interleague matchups. Whenever locals head across the border to Miller Park, there is talk of that stadium - comparisons to what might be in Minnesota.

Snow, wind and cold rain across the northern U.S. brought many Major League postponements in April. In Cleveland they lost an entire series - very unusual. Around the Twin Cities, this re-ignited the whine for a retractable roof. “If we’re gonna spend a kajillion dollars,” went the argument, “then have the sense to put a dang roof on it.”

Some weeks ago I went out to Phoenix, and caught two games at the Diamondbacks’ Chase Field - formerly called Bank One Ballpark (”the BOB”), later to be called something else and so on and so forth(ugh). Chase is a retractable roof model. On a Friday night I took in the pre-game and batting practice, which was handy in that I could wander unfettered through all the best seats and locations of the ballpark despite holding a $6 ticket. Sunday afternoon I took along Dad and a brother and watched the game from the upper deck, with said roof closed to the elements.

With the roof open, the atmosphere in Chase Field is much like the feeling you’d get riding around in a nice roomy car with a sunroof. Which is to say that while Chase Field is about a thousand times better than the Metrodome, it still isn’t quite outdoor baseball. In Arizona, the sunroof option allows them to air condition the whole stadium, keeping fans (particularly lower deck fans) in 70 degree comfort while the street outside swelters 95 or 100. When it gets prohibitively hot, or when favored players like Randy Johnson request, they close the roof and you’ve got what is unquestionably an indoor ballpark. I haven’t been to Miller Park or any of the other newer retractable roof stadiums, but video and pictures indicate they are similar to Chase. Sunroof, not so much a convertible. One exception might be Safeco Field in Seattle, which appears to use the roof more as a rain shelter than an enclosure.

In Minnesota, we’re building an outdoor ballpark. No superstructure that dwarfs the field itself. We’ll have rainouts, bitter cold evenings where the crowd dwindles in the later innings, lengthy weather delays that push games late into the evening, plenty of nights when hot coffee radically outsells cold beer. And this is good (excepting maybe for that beer part).

The massive marvels in Milwaukee and Phoenix and Toronto are quality stadiums, no question. But a commitment to unblemished outdoor Twins baseball in Minnesota is the right choice. All that banging and dust downtown this month is getting us closer to the promised land.