Tuesday, June 25, 2013

Chasing The Brass Ring

     I don't have explosive outbursts of temper. I go into a slow burn as my mind considers the event that attracted my attention. So it was with the Sunday morning call I got. Over the last 48 hours, as I analyzed the content of said call I slowly, meticulously began to make decisions. The final choice was to distance myself from my two main antagonists. Over the years I've received no support, no advice, nothing from these people but berating, hate, and joy when I would stumble or fall. As with this last time, the very fact that I not only survived, but came out the other side better seemed to anger them. 

     While I never intrude into their lives it seems my life is a major topic of conversation. I don't think either one of them has ever read a single article I've ever written, and never mind that I have several albums for sale on practically every download service in the world, published by my own label and several others, these two ignore that and ask me about Social Security. I never want to retreat to that! Even a small success in the entertainment industry beats that purgatory. And I know I'm on the right track because I watch my friends such as Ramona Myong, and Crystal Drument working toward the same thing. 

      My political views have been refined by conversations with my son, Master Chief Wilbur Witt III and the gentlemen at the Cigarbox. My two detractors couldn't even tell you what political party I affiliate with. One does not need this. I realized years ago that if I wrote "normal" no one would read a word. My style is what it is. I try to be as politically correct as possible while mixing in a distinctive Texas slant. I try to say what a lot of people want to say but just can't find the words. 

     I'm moving soon to the Texas coast. I would have preferred SoCal, but I was raised in Texas, and that gives me a proximity to Austin, which is important for a host of reasons. Using my blogs and music I try to direct attention to my books. Selling a book is hard. To be a writer you have to write tons! When the formula works it's like a jet whose wheels just left the ground. You may labor for years with no real return, and then, in a moment of time, you find that one thing that works just for you. We live in an age of enormous access to media and public review. Back in the day this was controlled by a very small, select group of people. In the music business you quickly understood that writing a good song was hard, recording it was even harder, but distribution was the key. In one of my songs I wrote, "Well they didn't sell worth a doodly squat, but I learn fast and do you know what, I got a use for a record that just won't sell. Yeah, I put em in the oven and I turn on the gas, and they'll shrivel up like a baboon's ass, then you turn em into ashtrays and sell em to the cheap motels!" Folks, I've made a LOT of ashtrays!

     People who long for retirement do not understand the creative mind that never rests. I've noticed that as I get older I get better. My two naysayers have always measured the value of their lives by the hour. One hour of their life is worth this much, or that much, and in the end they desperately cling to the fragments left by a mundane existence. Now we need people like that. Not everyone can be a writer, but don't shoot down those of us who will swing at every baseball until we get a home run. 

     My one supporter is my son, the chief. He has seen me swing at those baseballs, and he's seen me strike out, but he's also heard my music in bars all around the world, and if I die without ever achieving a big success he will not be disappointed. This was one of the problems I had in SoCal. Wilbur tried his level best to provide me a perfect life. Only problem was I sat there in the perfect world with things left to do. Wine and cheese are all very fine but whiskey in a studio in Austin is much better. 

     Wilbur's ideas mirror mine. He has served honorably in the Navy and will retire in a couple of years. He is not someone who is going to sit in the yard and check his blood pressure. He has received his Real Estate license in California and will leap into the market without a second thought. I don't think he ever considered that he may retire from the Navy. He was my bass player at twelve years old. I think the Navy tricked him. He prefers California over Texas, but there's medicine for that. He believes in progression of generations. I have a high school education, but it's from Texas so that don't count. Wilbur has a college degree. His daughter will one day be Dr. Kylie Witt! Her daughter, should she have one, will be president! 

     But I AM Weird Wilbur! I endured Roy Acuff and when he died artists like myself, and Rodney Carrington finally had a venue for our product. I got so sick and tired of corn pone country I wanted to puke! Now, I DO sell a few records. I do sell books, and people do read my blogs. If you're a writer you understand that this is enough. If you are like my two experts it will pass way over your head. 

Sunday, June 9, 2013

Trayvon, George, and History

                                                           Gunfight 101
                                                         by Wilbur Witt

     You know, the very moment you say you're not getting involved in something Murphy's law kicks in and that's the very next thing you get involved in. So it is with the George Zimmerman trial currently ramping up in Florida. I began to read and watch as the lawyers positioned themselves for what appears to be a trial that will make the Jodi Arias run look like "Singing In The Rain." at least with George wearing his bullet proof vest we won't have to put up with his nipples protruding through a sweater. 

     I'm not presenting myself as an expert, but I am saying I have experience with this sort of thing, and a whole lot of common sense. There are many aspects in this event that flow in very expected directions. Let's look at the actors. Martin, seventeen year old high school kid. He was a troubled kid, but that's not necessarily a bad thing. I've generally noticed that there are two kinds of high school kids. The Valedictorian, and the rest are troubled. Teenagers are besieged by peer pressure, and work hard to assert their identity within the group.  The cool guys get the girl. Cool is qualified in a large part by the media. Trayvon probably never had a political thought in his entire life, but MGM did, and they produced the rappers, and they rappers distributed their beliefs at great profit to eager ears looking for direction in a new, and confusing world. And this is not new. It's not a "black" thing. When I was growing up in the 50's there was a TV series called, "The Tall Man." The two characters were Pat Garrett and Billy the Kid. Me, and all my friends were soon swaggering around acting like the actor that played Billy the Kid. High school students strive to fit in. 

     Our perception, as adults, of Trayvon Martin, and a high school girl's view of him will be exactly opposite. If he wore his pants low we would think it looked silly, but a 16 year old girl would think he was normal and fit right in. If he wore an ivy league sweater he may please the teachers, but he would sit alone on Saturday night because he would be a nerd. I have found from experience that as life takes its toll the pants come up, the hair gets shorter, and the attitude tends to mellow in most cases. Did his parents have issues with him? Well, yeah. Did he fight at school? Probably, but one picture drew my attention recently. It was published in an attempt to show Trayvon's violent side, however it was pointed out that the boy in the middle was Trayvon, separating two other boys about to fight. 

     Point being, Trayvon fit into his society. His actions, words, and mannerisms were what was considered normal by his peers. Did he have a  jaundiced view of white society? Probably, but not so skewed that he couldn't calmly purchase Skittles and an Iced tea at a neighborhood convenience store. And, if you will note, none of the other patrons ran for the door when Trayvon walked in. I've seen a lot of black men wearing hoodies. Every night I drive to a local store to buy cigarettes and beer. I park my Mercedes right outside the door because I have a limp. Most times some hooded black kid will hold the door open for the limping, old white man. Of course this IS Texas, I don't know how they act down there in Florida. And im sure the car plays in. I'm cool. Trayvon's attitude and actions were given to him by the societal model he had been programmed with. With age, and experience he would have most likely molded this image to fit his particular circumstance. A boy growing into manhood has to start somewhere. 

      Now, let's look at George Zimmerman. George's image of himself was that of protector. He was a volunteer with the neighborhood watch. Let's analyze that. Back in Berry Creek we had a neighborhood watch. We had signs up letting everyone know we had one. What this does is alert perpetrators that if they try to commit a crime the chances are they will be seen, and the person observing them will call the police without a second thought. Our watch consisted of old people, riding around in their golf carts after dark with a cell phone. If they saw something that didn't register they simply called the cops. Most of the time the criminals were teenage girls egging some boy's car. My son, returning from patrol as a police officer one morning before sunrise came upon this very scenario. Six girls righteously screwing up the paint job on some kid's BMW. He had them cuffed and sitting on the curb when the police arrived, who then took control of the "crime scene." My point is we never stopped a burglary in progress. We never prevented a murder. A kid in a hoodie walking among houses usually doesn't amount to much. The police scare the hell out of them and that's part if that learning process I told you about where they temper what the rapper is saying with reality. 

     George saw himself as that thin red line between the drug cartel and his poor defenseless neighbors. And, please excuse the expression, but he saw everything in black and white. Ask yourself, would he have approached a man in a Brooks Brothers suit,  driving slowly, eyeing houses for an address in a sports car?  Now just imagine that man is Paulo Ginovilli from New York sent by his boss to collect a debt. No, he would drive on by. But he didn't drive on by Trayvon Martin! 

     If you are licensed to carry a concealed weapon you must play the role of the coward. The very fact that you, and only you know that you have a gun gives you the distinct advantage.  All this "stand your ground" crap is just that . . .CRAP! You don't excite, you don't instigate, and you don't provoke because you know, in the final analysis, you will prevail. You endure all insults, and threats without changing the expression on your face. You don't even draw back your coat to display the handle of your weapon because this will negate the element of surprise and that is your biggest tool. 

     George observes Trayvon walking home. His mental position is readily apparent by his words on the 911 tape, "They always get away!" That was paramount on George's mind. THIS one wasn't going to get away. Get away from what?  In that same store that I buy cigarettes and beer, the same hooded young man who just held the door for me goes to,the rear of the store and takes a long time choosing his beer as he rocks back and forth from one foot to another. Am I intimidated? No. I don't expect a civilized human being to do something rash. I've seen rash, folks. I've seen the bodies come out of Luby's and get placed in an ice truck. I've seen George Hennard. LeRoy picking a beer is not high on my list of threats. What do you do if the man does make a threat?  First you gauge the threat. Does he have a gun, or a tire tool? If he has a gun you try to avoid getting that gun aimed at you while you wait to draw your weapon. Simple fact is most people waving a gun around do not know how to use it. Three things figure in a gun fight. Having a gun, knowing how to use it effectively, and the willingness to do just that!  Ok, he has a gun. He's probably "cowboying" it, waving it around and yelling. You play the coward. You act like the little old man buying a six pack. He does not perceive you as a threat, worrying more about the clerk. Your advantage? You know you have resistance right under your coat. The very instant his gun is aimed anywhere but you, you pull your weapon and neutralize the situation. He will never hear the shot. Thats the hard part. If you draw your weapon and use it as a threat you will most likely get shot. Look at the OK Corral. Who got killed? They guys running their mouths while the Earps and Doc Holiday took aim. So, you shoot someone. It's nit like in the  movies. You will most likely be taken downtown. Your license and gun will be confiscated by the police. You will have to justify the use of deadly force. Even police officers must do this. Ever hear of "administrative leave?" It's not because the officer did anything wrong. It's so careful, logical minds can find out why someone got shot. 

     Ok, let's say the perpetrator has a knife, or tire tool, even just a hammer. You still play the coward. Retreat. Now, don't allow him to harm the clerk, but if the money changes hands with no violence there is no reason for the robber to ever know you are packing. There will be survailance cameras and at least two witnesses. The police will get him. That's what they do. It's only money, and with the way most connivence stores operate this idiot just traded ten years of his life for less than fifty dollars.   

     If the bandit does begin to make a move to harm the clerk you draw your gun and shout, "Stop!" You don't go into a long oratory, you don't come up with some cute line, just one word, "Stop!" At this point the man is going to do one of two things. He is going to piss his pants and drop to his knees, or he's going to piss his pants and run. It's not like in the movies. When you see a gun aimed at your face and realize you are less than a second from the Pearly Gates you change direction immediately, and that direction is NOT charging at YOU! In this circumstance you have the total advantage. 

     As you can easily see, this was not the situation that rainy night in Florida. Trayvon Martin posed a threat to no one. No one except George Zimmerman. What would have happened if George hadn't driven down that road?  Trayvon would have walked home, given his little brother the Skittles, and drank his tea. Trayvon Martin did not possess burglar tools on his body when they zipped up the bag. George Zimmerman broke every rule of a responsible license to carry party. He profiled the kid. "They always get away!" He disobeyed the instructions of the 911 operator. "We don't want you to do that." He didn't just stand his ground, he stood Trayvon's ground, and the ground of every member of the home owner's committee. He was a ground standing son of a bitch! He displayed his weapon needlessly. He claimed Trayvon grabbed for his gun. How'd the kid know he even had one? Ask yourself. 

     Let's look at the 911 "howling" tape. Now, you're going to hear all kinds of expert talk about who that was screaming. It's all crap, use your common sense. Do you know how difficult it is to aim and fire a pistol in a fist fight?  I'm a pretty hard ass old bastard, but if you're whipping my ass I'm going to be hard put to place a good shot. And I'm good!  When I qualified on the range for my gun permit my target had a big old hole right in the center. George Zimmerman executed a perfect torso shot. One shot to the heart. So, was screaming? Not the man taking careful aim at a teenage boy. Not the man in a fit of rage with anger written all over his face. If you will note the screaming stopped immediately after the shot. No crying, no sobs, no more calls for someone to come out and help, just silence. Damning silence! Did Trayvon hit George? Probably. He had been stalked by the very creature he had come to beware of. Trayvon did retreat, and as a last resort he stood his ground. His only mistake was he was facing a man who perceived himself to be a hero with a gun!

     Trayvon Martin and George Zimmerman were drawn into history that night. They both played roles given them by the societies they had chosen. George fully expected to drop by the country club the next day and get a pat on the back for "saving the neighborhood." Trayvon expected a fight like in school that he would tell his friends about, and in time move on to other things. Instead he died begging for his life as a man took aim at his chest. 

     You will hear testimony that will try your patience. You will hear experts contradict each other endlessly. You will see drawings and photographs that try to explain trajectory. Lawyers will split hairs on what ground was being stood that night. The final truth will never be arrived at. That truth lies between two young men on a rainy night in Florida. 

     Opening StatementsZimmermans 911 Call

Sunday, June 2, 2013

A Common Sense Law About Tornados

                                                A Common Sense Law
                                                        by Wilbur Witt

http://abcnews.go.com/US/oklahoma-twisters-deadly-lesson-run-hide/story?id=19302960

     I was born in Shreveport, Louisiana and spent the first ten years of my life there. We moved tomTexas in 1962. Both places we're situated in what is referred to as "Tornado Alley," although I don't know exactly where this alley is, I suppose anywhere you have to duck and dodge a funnel. My early childhood was filled with warnings from the old black and white TV, with the discordant tone, followed by some official voice announcing a "Severe tornado alert!" Frankly, I consider ALL tornadoes to be severe. I've never known anyone who saw one of these things approaching that said, "Oh, that's just a little one, I'll just ignore it." When one of these dudes even passes O VER your house it will slap your screen door back and forth like a playing card on a kid's bike. Believe me, I KNOW!  

     For all the planning, and education one may have, that all goes to into your pants when you meet these fellas to face for the first time. There is a common misconception that the power of the tornado is all within the confines of the funnel itself. This will get you killed. The tornado is an extension of a very pissed off thunderstorm. The storm itself is violent. The tornado is violent, and the air surrounding the tornado is violent. The tornado gets its supply of air from somewhere. It is funneling hot air up into the thunderhead which it collects from the area around it. So the closer you get to the actual funnel the harder the wind will blow until you get to ground zero. If you are in a car, trying to out run this contraption you are pre-screwed, and when it finally catches up with you, and it will, you ARE screwed! It will explode your head and pull your lungs out of your body. 

     I saw the results of the Jarrell tornado here in Texas back in '97. We went down, as a team of Realtors, to try to help the citizens of that community rebuild after a devastating F5 that plowed right through the middle of town. The twister started out over Belton Lake as a small, snake like thing that was actually funny to look at. It appeared to be a snake with its head cut off, twisting and jumping, and not really making contact with the ground. By the time it traveled the thirty or so miles to Jarrell it had grown into a big boy!

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/1997_Central_Texas_tornado_outbreak

     The funnel was so large it appeared that the entire thunderstorm had literally touched the ground. This is deceptive to the novice, who may even think that what they're seeing is a downpour of rain, as the actual funnel is shrouded by debris and rain. When you see the news pictures of the destruction a tornado can bring it loses something. When you walk among it you are, excuse the pun, blown away! I was struck by two things. My fellow Realtors will appreciate the first. When you pour a foundation there are 1/2" bolts situated in the concrete to attach wood, or stone and permit the workers to construct the walls. I saw these bolts bent to a perfect right angles  by the sheer force of the tornado. Look at the lug nuts on your car. Now imagine a wind so powerful that it can bend that thing in the MIDDLE!  The other thing that struck me was dirt roads. This was a upper middle class bedroom community. The people here generally worked in the tech industry down the road in Austin. As I was walking on predominantly dirt roads, I commented to someone that one would have thought the roads would be paved. One of the State Troopers solomly told me, "They were."  Most if us got sick with some sort or respiratory flu. Look at your neighborhood. Now imagine every car battery, every bottle of Mr. Clean, every heart prescription, everything it takes to make a modern, upscale neighborhood, all vaporized, cast into the atmosphere, and then settles to the ground right where you are walking! The first responders had this same problem during 9/11

     The amount of dead people was incredible. It was so bad that I bagan to believe the formula was simple, if you were home, you were dead!  However, some survived. The survivors mainly had jumped into holes.  The main hole being a drainage pipe going under a road. As I walked among the rubble I came up with an idea. Why no shelters?  When I got back to my office I had meetings with our builders, asking what would withstand such an event. Every one of them told me 18" or reinforced concrete would have the best chance of survival. Now nothing is perfect, but they assured me that this configuration would afford the best chance of getting through a hit by a tornado.  We drew up plans for a closet, to be positioned in the center of a house, constructed completely out of 18" reinforced concrete, with a door that had locks similar to a bank safe. A fully functional closet where you kept clothes. When the tornado approached, the family calmly goes there, sits with their hands over the back of their heads, and rides it out. Cost? Between $1,800 to $2,500. I was told this was "cost prohibitive." 

     Now, many years later, I am looking at this again. In California there are standards of construction that plan on "the big one," and demand that certain features be built into a home to give the occupants a better chance of survival during a major quake. We have a functional idiot in New York City outlawing Big Gulps, but there are no laws in "tornado alley" that I know of to protect families during a tornado!

     When a young couple builds their home they put all manner of things into it. Some are necessary, and, frankly, some are not. The cost of what I proposed has undoubtedly gone up. When I came up with this idea the cost of our average home was about $85,000 here in Central Texas. That, on the upper end, would make the percentage around 3%. Now this is where it really gets silly. In this area the buyer generally is shielded from a lot, if not all, closing costs, which the builders pay as an incentive to buy. Most of the VA loans in this area "roll" everything into the loan in the land of the "dollar down." Now, let's just say Mr. and Mrs. Homebuyer finance everything. Their $100,000 home would bump up to about $103,000, oh hell, let's make it $105,000. How much difference do you think that would make in a payment, on a fixed rate, over 30 years?  Even in a conventional market the cost is rolled into the loan. There may even be a break on home insurance, I don't know. The question is simple. What's your family worth?

     A simple, common sense, building code. Oh, the builders will bitch, the Tea Party will rail about private property rights, and Obama will make a vist to Oklahoma City. The statistic folks down at UT will cite the probability of getting hit by an F5, but then, they don't have to search for the bodies, now do they?