Thursday, June 30, 2011

The great exodus begins

" Some people see things are
and ask Why ?Some people dream 
of things that never were and
ask why not ?
  Some people have to go
to work and don;t have 
time for all that ."  George Carlin

As I went to work today I witnessed the beginnings of the 4th of July migration of Bozeangeles citizens to the hills. Rv's , pickups and cars filled with children , camping gear , kayaks and fishing gear , Every camp ground from here to the Idaho border will be wall to wall  cook outs and fireworks. Even here in the Metroplex the shooting off of fireworks has begun. I imagine every young Vet of Iraq and Afghanistan is going to be having flash backs the next few days.

   be safe be free, God Bless the USA

Wednesday, June 29, 2011

All That Glitters IT’S RAINING MEN (PART 2)you can't judge a book by its cover



  Mother Goat comes through again here is Part 2 of the Rochelle and Pat Saga. refer to  sundays post for part 1. All That Glitters is an on-going  Soap Opera set in  Bozeangeles


IT’S RAINING MEN (PART 2)   You Can;t Judge a Book by its Cover

Rochelle slowly drained her drink, finding new interest in her ice cubes as she absorbed what Pat told her. So there it was. He wasn’t breaking up with her, only leaving things in her hands. She walked him to the door, flinched when he kissed her cheek and said good-bye.

As soon as she heard the slam of his car door and the engine roar to life, Rochelle let out a groaning, "EEEEEEEEEEW! I can’t believe this shit!" She wasn’t angry, only dumbfounded. It certainly wasn’t the conversation she’d expected. Rochelle went to the kitchen to mix a third cocktail, vodka with a splash of tea, then went to her room and changed into her beloved sweatpants. Rochelle flopped onto the sofa, only to receive a dirty look from Maizey for waking her up. Rochelle patted Maizey’s head and apologized for disturbing the slumber in progress. Maizey licked Rochelle’s hand and wagged her tail.

As Rochelle mentally recounted the conversation in half disbelief and half amusement, she shook her head. "I must’ve pissed someone off in my previous life."

"Rochelle, I want you to know I’m very attracted to you, and I’ve really enjoyed our dates."

"That’s nice to hear Pat, thank you." I’m not about to tell you the feeling is mutual, she thought.

"I’m not sure how to say it, so I’m just going to say it. Just hear me out and I’ll answer questions afterward." Pat adjusted in his seat. The bright light highlighted his jaw line. Where in the hell was his 5:00 shadow? It boggled Rochelle’s mind. Even when I shave my legs in the morning, there’s some stubble by 7:00 p.m. Pat came over directly from work, so she knew he hadn’t had time to shave. Suddenly Rochelle’s brain made a record on a record player scratching noise, zip. What did you say? Lesbian relationship? I could not have possibly heard that correctly. She reeled at the information.

"Rochelle, I’m a trans-gender. I was involved in a lesbian relationship for eleven years, but even then I still felt like I was trapped in a woman’s body. From the waist up, I’m a man. Below the waist, I’m still a woman. The surgery to complete the transformation is scheduled in six months. I’m not crazy, nor is this something I did on a whim. You undergo years of extensive counseling before any of the doctors will begin the transformation."

"My legal name was Patricia until four years ago. My mom is kinda mourning the loss of her daughter, and my father won’t speak to me right now. My siblings are following Dad’s lead. When I have told people the truth they stopped talking to me. I just wanted to tell you this so you can decide whether or not you want to continue to see me."

"Pat, I don’t know what to say. It’s a lot to absorb. It sounds like it’s a pretty lonely existence for you, and for that I’m sorry. I appreciate you telling me this. I just don’t know what to think right now."

"I understand Rochelle. I’m going to leave it up to you then." Pat stood and Rochelle followed. She could’ve said "Let’s talk a bit more," but what would they talk about? Pat kissed her on the cheek, opened the door and left. "I hope I hear from you."

"Well, that explains the lack of 5:00 shadow, flawless complexion, and the fact that I always felt like I was kissing my mother when he kissed me," she said to Maizey.

Tuesday, June 28, 2011

what we Lost ( by Mother Goat ) a true story

      Once again my Wife proving herself the better person shares a true event in her life. I imagine we have all experienced a loss that shapes us. In my case I've lost  both my mother and a very close friend to cancer. But the Aids plague is still something we forget about or pretend to not see. It is not the horror it was her in America in the late 80's early 90's but it still kills both here and around the world.


On a more serious note, I was reading "When AIDS Was New", written for The Week.  "In the epidemics early days, Bill Hayes asked a lost generation to create a time capsule.  He's just opened it."  In the capsule, over five hundred messages were left for the future generations, some warnings to act early, others poignant and heartbreaking stories of loss, suffering, and loneliness for their survivors.
    As a person who cared for a loved one who lost his life due to AIDS, this article obviously struck a chord.  For the last three months of Don's life, I was responsible for administering a three hour I.V. twice a day, oh yes, there were needles, eye drops three times a day, not to mention the dreaded pill cocktail, that to this day, I don't fully understand which pill masked what symptom.  It would've been tolerable, for me, had the medications not been coupled with dementia. 
    Don was an accomplished cook, a fan of the arts and European history, and blessed with an amazing tenor voice--I'd give anything to hear him sing Danny Boy again.  To watch the slow deterioration of this larger than life person to a shell of his former self, physically and mentally, was frustrating and heartbreaking.  Frustrating because I could do nothing about his death sentence other than continue to pump him full of toxic medications to "keep him comfortable."  Heartbreaking because he really had no idea who was caring for him.  I was called: Scott, his ungrateful son who skipped the country to serve an LDS mission in Russia rather than care for his own father, yup, still bitter about that one;  Roger, my Godfather and Don's partner of twenty-three years who preceded him in death; Mom; Aunt Nellie; the list went on and on.  I remember thinking, "Eventually, he's going to wake up and realize who I am, right?"  Part of me wanted to shake him and say "I know you're in there somewhere.  Will the real Don please stand up?"
    As the summer progressed, and his health deteriorated further, I began to realize it created less conflict if I just lived in his world for a few minutes, pacify him so he'd go back to sleep, stopping the ramblings.  I tried to set him straight one afternoon.  You should've seen the look on his face when I announced, out of frustration more than anything, "You retired from American Airlines two years ago.  You live in Salt Lake City.  Scott is serving an LDS mission in Russia.  Your mother passed away in 1976."  I was about to add, "And my name is Jamie!", but thought better of it.  He looked hurt, visibly shaken and most memorably, angry.  He was convinced I was lying to him.  Funny, pacifying him required me to lie.  The truth, in this case, most certainly did not set him or me free.  Maybe I secretly hoped I'd be able to reset his brain, much like resetting computer.  Needless to say, it didn't work.  I resigned myself to the fact that the Don, whom I knew and loved, had checked out and wouldn't be back. . . ever.  This is a sad realization for a twenty-two year old to absorb.  Don, a prisoner of his mind and body-- Jamie, a prisoner in a lavishly posh condo across the street from the Capitol building.
    When the summer ended, I collected the promised school tuition, packed my bags and got he hell out of Utah.  I found myself ill-equipped to cope with my peers.  Somehow beer, parties and sexual encounters didn't make my priority list.  They seemed so immature to me and I just couldn't relate to them any longer.  I was forever changed, and they didn't understand the change.  Two weeks later, I received a phone call saying it was time to come and say good-byes.  Part of me resisted because after all, "I'd done my time."  "Jamie, he's asking for YOU."  Yeah right, I thought.  Who am I today?  Roger, Scott, Carmen, Nellie?
    Begrudgingly, I drove the two and half hours to his place, and went into his room.  The overwhelming relief in his eyes said more than any jumbled words he had for me, "Jamie!  I've been so worried about you.  You just disappeared.  How was your operation?"  Well, at least he finally got my name right.  I hadn't been in any car accident, nor had I been in surgery.  I bent down and gently kissed his forehead and began to tell him about my studies in genre class at college until he fell asleep.  Don passed away two days later.
    Although Don was taken from me far too early, he did leave me a capsule-- its contents include: a love of art, music, poetry, cooking and above all else, a clear understanding of the difference between selfless and selfish.  Rest in peace Don.  I know you're always with me.









Monday, June 27, 2011

why are we so Angry as a people this summer ?

video
  So that rant could simply be my anger manifestingt  itself in my observations of others, ( My Mother in law calls me an Asshole regularly, but I take that as a term of endearment from her. She comes up to visit often when the winds let her broom travel north and she has someone to watch the flying monkeys ), but it just seems as if people don't smile and don't share any kind of respect with others.
 Is this a symptom of the economy ? social disruption ? Class warfare ? Why is anyone who makes a lot of money a capitalist pig and why is anyone who spends his life worrying about the poor and hungry a communist ?
      Of course this is stupid for me to compare national issues to the issues we face here in Bozeangeles. Though we do have an oppressive city government intent on taxing and spending us to death. And a population that is divided along racial , economic and religious ties. Why have we let the political parties and talking heads on tv do that to us  ?

  Why have we let them divide us int Democrat and republican Rich, middle class and working poor. Or the one I hate the most is Red State , Blue state. This phrase  has provided the most divisive  feeling among the voting population.and it is even worse because it was coined by one f the few honest political reporter on tV Tim Russert ( may he rest in peace)


The terms red states and blue states came into use in 2000 to refer to those states of the United States whose residents predominantly vote for the Republican Party or Democratic Party presidential candidates, respectively. A blue state tends to vote for the Democratic Party, and a red state tends to vote for the Republican Party, although the colors were often reversed or different colors used before the 2000 election. According to AlterNet and The Washington Post, the terms were coined by journalist Tim Russert, during his televised coverage of the 2000 presidential election.[1] That was not the first election during which the news media used colored maps to graphically depict voter preferences in the various states, but it was the first time a standard color scheme took hold. Since 2000, usage of the term has been expanded to differentiate between states being perceived as liberal and those perceived as conservative.
This unofficial system of political colors used in the United States is the reverse of that in most other long-established democracies, where blue represents right-wing and conservative parties, and red represents left-wing and social democratic parties.

Sunday, June 26, 2011

All That Glitters ( Its Raining Men )

   So  here's what you've been waiting for another installment of  Mother Goats irregular soap opera set in the every day world of Bozeangeles. This one will be a two part er I hear so part one will just wet your appetite
"We need to talk."
This sounds serious, Rochelle thought. Oh great, he's kicking me to the curb. Damn it! I much prefer being the dumper and not the dumpee. "Do you want to come over Pat?"
"Yes, would twenty minutes be okay? I need to speak with you before this relationship goes any further."
"Twenty minutes is fine. I'll see you shortly." Relationship? Since when did three dates without sex constitute a relationship? Rochelle liked men who could deliver toe curling kisses. Thus far, Pat hadn't delivered anything remotely close a toe cramp.
Pat and Rochelle had met through mutual friends. Although they had many similar interests, she'd never felt that "spark" when they held hands or kissed. Intellectually, he was her equal, at least that was a bonus. Rochelle had planned on giving it one more date before cutting him loose. Rochelle looked at her Irish Setter mix and sighed, "Maizey, I wish I were spayed. You don't seem to mind not dating." Maizey's tail thudded against the green sofa cushion. Maizey put her head on Rochelle's lap and rolled onto her back for a belly rub. Rochelle scratched Maizey's belly for several minutes. Rochelle sighed, "Oh well, a "relationship" without spark is better than no relationship, I guess. May as well listen to him and see what he has to say. It's not like there are any better offers knocking at the door." Maizey woofed in agreement.
Rochelle stood up and walked into the bathroom. With her toenails clicking against the hardwood floor, Maizey followed and guarded the door. She reached for a Q-tip to clean up the day's end eyeliner, pinched her cheeks and dabbed a little plum colored gloss on her lips. She studied her face, "Damn, is that a wrinkle?" She resented men who had a better complexion than she had, and Pat's was flawless. It was completely peaches and cream smooth, and never as much as had a 5:00 shadow on it. It irritated her. No man should have skin like that. Rochelle ran her fingers through her curly brown hair as she brushed her teeth. She looked at her clothes and noticed a paint spot on her sweats. "Shit!"
She went to her closet and pulled on a pair of jeans. Hopefully, it would be a short conversation and she'd be back in her comfortable sweats in no time. Rochelle walked into her kitchen and pulled out the mixings for an "Arnold Palmer with a golf swing." As she poured the sweet tea vodka, regular vodka, lemonade and iced tea over the ice, she thought "May as well be properly medicated for the "relationship talk." She was also thirsty.
Rochelle sat on the sofa again. Maizey joined her on the opposite end. They channel surfed, stopping on the Food Network. Sandra Lee was painful to watch, but occasionally had good ideas. Rochelle put the T.V. on mute, Maizey watched and licked her chops when she saw the "Semi-Homemade" version of Beef Wellington appear out of the oven. "Looks good doesn't it Maize?" The doorbell rang. Rochelle looked at her watch. Damn, he's was annoyingly punctual.
Rochelle unbolted the lock and opened her door, "Hi Pat, come in. Would you like a cocktail?"
"No thanks. I like to be straight when I have this conversation."
"Suit yourself, I'm going to freshen my drink though. Have a seat." Oh great, no drinks for him. I'm never going to get back into my sweats at this rate. "This conversation"? How many times has he had "this conversation"?




God bless Mother Nature, she's a single woman too
She took off to heaven and she did what she had to do
She taught every angel to rearrange the sky
So that each and every woman could find her perfect guy
It's Raining Men! Yeah!


Humidity is rising - Barometer's getting low
According to our sources, the street's the place to go
Cause tonight for the first time
Just about half-past ten
For the first time in history
It's gonna start raining men.

It's Raining Men! Hallelujah! - It's Raining Men! Amen!
It's Raining Men! Hallelujah! - It's Raining Men!

Saturday, June 25, 2011

Russian Roulette

Listening to the talking heads on the news these days just drives me crazy   The Politicians are playing Russian Roulette with the economic survival of our country and the  pundits are egging them on.
  they give the national debt, the budget mess and the party politics the same spin and the same  importance as the stupid Kalye Anthony murder case or  PAris Hiltons new boyfriend. The fucking stupidity of the general public to take the  talking heads on Tv as journalists and the party hacks in Washington as people actually working for us is a sad indicator of the downfall of America.

Friday, June 24, 2011

Battle of the Greasy Grass

  A hundred 35 years ago today The Native Americans made their last  real attempt to defend their freedom.  As Americans we glorify Custer's bravery and our culture of western courage. We probably still do. Lets also consider the heavy fist we wield and the  long term results. Visit the Custer battle field but also visit the  Indian reservations  on the rosebud and in the Dakotas.  Go to Wounded Knee and see the graves there as well.




The Battle of the Little Bighorn, also known as Custer's Last Stand and, by the Native Americans involved, the Battle of the Greasy Grass, was an armed engagement between combined forces of Lakota, Northern Cheyenne and Arapaho people against the 7th Cavalry Regiment of the United States Army. It occurred on June 25 and June 26, 1876, near the Little Bighorn River in eastern Montana Territory, near what is now Crow Agency, Montana.
The battle was the most famous action of the Great Sioux War of 1876 (also known as the Black Hills War). It was an overwhelming victory for the Lakota, Northern Cheyenne, and Arapaho, led by several major war leaders, including Crazy Horse and Gall, inspired by the visions of Sitting Bull (Tȟatȟáŋka Íyotake). The U.S. Seventh Cavalry, including the Custer Battalion, a force of 700 men led by George Armstrong Custer, suffered a severe defeat. Five of the Seventh's companies were annihilated; Custer was killed, as were two of his brothers, a nephew, and a brother-in-law. Total U.S. deaths were 268, including scouts, and 55 were wounded.

Thursday, June 23, 2011

who does wildlife belong to ?

So the hazing season is just about over. Montana in its wisdom has decided  Buffalo that lives in our national park does not belong  on public or national forest land in Montana. At least this year they have not shot them and sent the bill for the bullets to the Park.




WEST YELLOWSTONE- The West entrance to Yellowstone closed for about 45 minutes on Thursday as hundreds of bison made their way across the road.
The hazing efforts began Wednesday with about 350 bison pushed into the park, crossing U.S. Highway 191, north of West Yellowstone.
The plan is to push the buffalo as far as Madison Junction and then leave them alone with the hope being that there will be enough green grass
for them and that they'll stay in the park.

Wednesday, June 22, 2011

if the creek don't rise

  I;ve been watching the flooding east of here in the dakota's poor Minot a town that thrives or perishes by water.  Its not the best place in the world thats why we put the indians there. but this flood is hard on them and a lot of farmers in the high desert.  this year its too wet to get the crops planted on time. or the cattle into the high country. They call this part of the country from Billings east to the badlands and a high desert.  well it sure don't look like desert today

http://www.christianpost.com/news/minot-city-in-north-dakota-evacuated-before-toppling-of-flood-levees-51449/

Tuesday, June 21, 2011

Summer begins and the days grow shorter

Joy and Sorrow, what a beautiful day here in Bozeangeles



Summer Solstice
Brown earth lay blanketed beneath
the weight of white snow
People hold within their heart
the promise of light
Light that overcomes the night
Igniting fire
That burns a hole
all the way to the hot dry summer fields
The hope that the light holds in winter
becomes in summer
the knowing of the sun’s pathway back again
We poise on the edge of these great turnings
Balanced night and day
Ah for a moment……
By: Cheryl Ban © 1998

Monday, June 20, 2011

The things we miss ( or pretend to not see )

I took  Little Goat down town this morning , for breakfast and to see what was going on.
 The  area shows some life there are a few more  businesses popping up. A french bistro over on Tracy st. and the Co-op grocery and deli right on Main. But there still are a lot of empty places and empty faces.There  were quite a few  homeless people or transients on the streets. I guess this is common through out the country these days and has been for a while . The sad thing is how we have trained our selves to ignore it. Cars zip by the woman at the intersection. Parents cross the street with their stroller ( I did this today ) consciously protecting their child  ignoring the person.  I don't pretend to know the solution but I recognize the problem. Do you ?

Sunday, June 19, 2011

When times are tough Americans love Alien Movies

  So I saw Super 8 today as a fathers day gift from little Goat. Good move ( not great ) a homage to Stand By Me , E.T. and   Almost famous. Now granted the previews were aimed towards people who were likely to go see Alien Si Fi  movies  but 30 minutes of such adverts strikes me as over kill.

Aliens, Monsters ,Americans persevering against overwhelming odds  seems to be the rage . What does that say about the psychology of the nation or the psychology of the people predicting what America will pay too much to see ?
    There is a fair amount of feel good comedy and romance out there but the force is strong  with  the  things that go bump in the night.
  Does anybody have the time or the interest to compare  numbers of Alien and monster movies to economic stress and political un certainty ? I will try to figure something out as well. 

  I'm not feeling good about the country, So I will probably go see Cowboys and Aliens  next month


OLd Goat

Saturday, June 18, 2011

What goes up must come down

   So this is an interesting picture , I would more believe a Golden Eagle would do something like this. They make bald eagles look like sparrows and  despite the bald Eagle's reputation as our national symbol they are pretty lazy. ( okay maybe it is perfect )

A Montana woman photographing a bald eagle in a spruce tree near her house also made a picture of what was left of its prey — a fawn carcass dangling from a power line. she photographed the eagle Wednesday morning because she had never seen one so close to her house along the Clark Fork River.
At about the same time, a NorthWestern Energy employee responding to a power outage drove up. Bridges asked what caused the outage and he pointed at the line and said, "it looks like you’ve got a deer with wings."


Friday, June 17, 2011

The Wilderness is there and here

 I keep thinking about the importance of wilderness in our/my life . I firmly believe that it if I still lived in a big city ( bigger than the Bozeangeles metroplex )  and had not been lucky enough to have met  Mrs. Goat, seduced  and married her I'd be dead. I need to be outside I need to escape the confines of asphalt and brick walls. I need to feel the tug of a trout on a fly line , see an elk or bear on a mountain trail. The human race needs to be challenged to thrive.
The mountain west has offered that  refuge to a lot of people. As a result it has produced great writers, climbers, peace makers and soldiers . However it has also provided refuge to radicals, Militants, anarchists  and religious nuts. The uni Bomber ,  the oklahoma city bombers, the posse Commitatus come to mind. Here n the Bozangeles metroplex and the mountains  framing the Galatian valley we have our fair share. the following article from the Bozeangeles Comical  provides a not too old example

http://www.bozemandailychronicle.com/news/article_7e0a06fe-8b77-57df-879b-c7e7edf5fdb8.html

Kari Swenson knew she was in trouble the second she spotted the two men. They were scruffy and dirty, armed with knives and rifles, and they were glaring at her.
She had been running fast along a forest trail near Big Sky. The older man blocked her way. She tried to turn and run, but he grabbed her wrists. His eyes had a wild look.
She pleaded with them to let her go. No, the old man said. We'll take you along for a few days and see how you like living in the mountains.
What had started as a beautiful Sunday afternoon was turning into a surreal nightmare. Swenson had just graduated from Montana State University and was working that summer at Lone Mountain Ranch's kitchen. She had gone to Ulreys Lake for a training run.
At 22, she was already a world-class athlete in biathlon, a demanding sport that combines cross-country skiing with rifle marksmanship. Five months before she had helped the U.S. women's team win a bronze medal at the world championships in Chamonix, France.
She was smart and striking looking, with blue eyes, freckles and waist-length auburn hair that she often wore in braids.
The two men tied her wrist with a rope and dragged her through the backcountry. They talked about how they wanted to live free, away from society's rules, live off the land and start a clan. The older man told her he needed a woman to keep his son in the mountains.
She pleaded with the son to free her. No, he said. I want to keep you for myself. You're purty.
Twenty years ago today, Swenson was kidnapped. One day later, she was seriously wounded and Alan Goldstein, one of the men who tried to rescue her, was murdered. Thus began one of the most dramatic news stories ever to unfold in southwest Montana.
The report that two Montana "mountain men" had tried to capture a beautiful young athlete to be their mountain bride was so dramatic, so bizarre, that newspaper reporters and television news crews from around Montana and the nation descended on Big Sky.
Madison County Sheriff Johnny France would end up being profiled in Esquire magazine. NBC would produce a made-for-TV movie, "The Abduction of Kari Swenson."
For reporters, townsfolk and tourists, it was a hell of a yarn.
For the Swenson and Goldstein families, it was simply hell, as recounted in Jan Swenson's book, "Victims, The Kari Swenson Story."
This is a glimpse of what occurred 20 years ago, as pieced together from Chronicle news archives, trial coverage, Swenson's book and France's book, "Incident at Big Sky."
It all happened in about two minutes.
When Kari Swenson hadn't returned to her job at Lone Mountain Ranch by dinner time, her frantic family and friends launched a search, which stretched on past midnight. They headed out again at 5:30 the next morning.
Searchers Jim Schwalbe and Goldstein, friends who worked together at Lone Mountain Ranch, were a mile from the Jack Creek logging road when they heard a shot and a woman's scream.
Schwalbe rushed in to help. The older mountain man yelled, demanding to know if Schwalbe were armed. The younger mountain man was hysterical, moaning, "God, I can't believe I shot her."
Goldstein, armed with a handgun that was aimed at no one, said, "Drop your guns. You're surrounded by 200 men. You can't get away."
The older man, Don Nichols, raised his rifle and shot Goldstein. Schwalbe, fearing he'd be next, ran for his life.
Swenson lay bleeding from a shot to her right chest, where the bullet had torn through her lung. The Nicholses yanked off the chain that had held her to a tree, dumped her out of their sleeping bag and ran off.
For the next four hours, she tried to keep herself alive, struggling to breathe, trying to signal to a helicopter, inching over to a dropped pack to find a drink and a sleeping bag.
Finally, the searchers with Gallatin County Sheriff John Onstad found her.
They experienced a terrifying moment when the helicopter from Madison County that was raising Swenson on a stretcher smashed her into a tree.
Once safely in an ambulance, she was rushed to Bozeman Deaconess Hospital. Her family, terribly shaken but grateful she was alive, was there to meet her. Her long and painful recovery was just beginning.
It was big news in Bozeman and soon the story attracted attention from around the state and nation.
The coverage was controversial from the start.
Sheriff France was quoted comparing 53-year-old Don Nichols to Daniel Boone. Nichols' ex-wife, Verdina Frisbie, described her 19-year-old son as "a nice boy" and said the pair weren't "cold-blooded killers."
Don Nichols' sister and her husband, dairy farmers Betty and Walter Schneiter, said her brother was intelligent and "never a troublemaker."
"Maybe he was just born a hundred years too late," Walter said.
In response, Kari's father, Bob Swenson, chair of MSU's physics department, issued a statement saying the Nicholses were hardly nice guys. They had abducted Kari, threatened her with guns and knives, and after she was shot, dumped her out of a sleeping bag, saying, "'They'll never take us alive - We'll kill anyone who comes after us.'"
The media circus made life tough for lawmen who were trying to search hundreds of square miles of the rugged Madison Range for two armed men who had caches of supplies and plenty of caves and hiding places.
The search began badly. The crime had occurred in Madison County, so Sheriff France was in charge. Communications and trust between the two county sheriffs' offices broke down.
The search included a SWAT team from Yellowstone County, FBI agents, private trackers hired by the Goldstein family, search dogs, special night goggles, high-tech heat sensors and mounted posses.
Yet the mountain men slipped away, embarrassing lawmen and frustrating the victims' families. Onstad said finding a needle in a haystack would be simpler.
Then in October, there was a break. Hunting outfitter Tom Heintz came out of the mountains and said that four days earlier, he and his clients had run into the fugitives, cooking squirrel stew over a campfire. He said Dan Nichols asked about Swenson and looked relieved when told she was alive.
Heintz said both men had scopes on their rifles and anyone who tried to go in like a hero to capture them would probably end up dead.
Rancher Roland Moore was out breaking ice on a stock tank when he spotted smoke rising from a gully about a mile and a half from his house, near Bear Trap Canyon.
It was Dec. 13, and hunting season was over. Moore rode his horse back to the house and phoned Sheriff France, his brother-in-law. Moore drove back with his binoculars and saw two men on a hill. One ran into the bushes. Moore phoned France again.
Within hours, a dozen lawmen were moving in from the two sheriff's offices, the FBI, Montana Highway Patrol and U.S. Forest Service. Onstad was up in a helicopter.
France went in alone, first by snowmobile and then on foot. He panted as he trudged through the snow, radioing in his location.
The light was fading when he spotted the Nicholses under a tree, cooking venison steaks in a pan over a fire.
France had no backup, but felt he had no choice. He startled the fugitives, saying, "You fellas seen any coyotes?" He got the drop on the son, and after a standoff, cajoled and bluffed Don Nichols into putting down his rifle.
In the Chronicle newsroom, reporters listened in disbelief as the drama unfolded over a police scanner.
"I've got a couple of guys down here who need a ride," France's voice crackled over the radio.
"Who you got down there?" Onstad asked, twice.
"I've got Don and Dan Nichols."
The two fugitives who'd sworn they'd never be taken alive had been captured without a shot.
By the end of the Nicholses' trials in Virginia City in 1985, juries found both men guilty of kidnapping, and convicted Don Nichols of deliberate homicide.
But jurors balked at convicting 20-year-old Dan Nichols of murder.
The state's special prosecutor, Marc Racicot, had argued that under the state's felony murder rule, someone who commits a felony that results in death should be found guilty of murder. Racicot also argued the Nicholses were common criminals, not romantic "mountain men," and that the son was not brainwashed by his father.
Three years later, Racicot would win election as attorney general and four years after that would be elected governor. He now heads President Bush's national re-election campaign.
Six months after her kidnapping, Kari Swenson overcame the pain from her wound to win a U.S. gold medal in biathlon in Quebec. She competed with the U.S. women's biathlon team in Norway in 1986, placing fourth and winning cheers from the crowd. In 1988, ABC hired her to provide color commentary for the Calgary Olympics.
For a long time, her mother wrote, Kari had nightmares, flashbacks and pain.
"Unlike television violence, real life trauma does not end with a fadeout and a commercial," Jan Swenson wrote.
Kari realized a childhood dream when she became a veterinarian. She still practices in Bozeman.
And this year, what must have been another dream came true for Kari. She married Mark Richard Albrecht in a ceremony at Lone Mountain Ranch, in the mountains she loved

Thursday, June 16, 2011

Fear and loathing on United Airlines

  My  Sister who is the kindest woman on earth has been traumatised by her visit to Bozeangeles . Not just being  saddled by a 17 year old daughter she was  trapped in the nightmare of United in efficiency. Here is her  some what edited description of the horror fault . ( side note she is the mother of the soon to be famous writer Juliet Ray.)


 Remember when United's Motto was
                "Fly The Friendly Skies With United".
Traveling to Bozangeles
    Traveling is no longer fun. United treats people like cattle with wallets. Can’t wait til Southwest is flying the whole country!! United Airline and Continental Airlines merged and produced a flying lemon. We planned a multi destination trip-Houston, Bozeman, Colorado Springs and back to Houston. This made it a multi transfer destination trip: Houston-Denver-Bozeman for the 1st leg. Doesn’t sound too complicated., does it? Originally leave Houston at 1240, arrive Bozeman by 4 pm! We forgot that United’s Hub is far far away in Chicago which may have something to do with our horrific trip, now a common American shared experience. Probably happens everyday...


 We arrive at IAH George Bush in Houston in plenty of time to catch a 12:30>flight, to find we were delayed 2 hours and would therefore miss our connection. The reason a mystery, equipment was late, no idea why.  Interestingly, all the United flights around us in Houston were late.
  Actual text message from my Saint of a Sister


We have to stay here or Go thru security again.
 
 
 My daughter is driving me nuts - her phone does not ring or buzz so when we are separated I can't reach her. She left her wallet on the plane, then ran off to go to the wrong gate to retrieve it, then thank God we got there before the plane took off for NY!
Do not laugh! We need to write a book about her- a Comedy!!
If i dont have a heart attack 1st-So I'm short of breath cuz were in Denver, I'm dragging her stuff, my stuff, trying to chase her down before she runs up the gangplank of the wrong plane and is arrested, I cannot breath-
Are u laughing yet??
Then she goes to a scoop UR own candy shop with a $10 and comes back asking for $20 more- so I say we r not spending $30 on candy and send her next door to news stand to buy a big bag for $4
Good times, good times ..
Now delayed until 1040 pm- what a waste- I think this happened before
All around us United is late or cancelled..
United Merger with Continental Sucks!



When we finally did board 2 hours and 51 min late, and it became laughable! They took what seemed like hours, but probably only 10 extra minutes to board their SPECIAL members, one at a time: Elite, Premier Elite, Premier Executive, Premier Associate, Red Carpet Club, and on and on. People around us were either looking enraged or had the giggles. Finally we departed >Denver, with new boarding passes for Bozeman leaving Denver at 955PM and I informed the awaiting Brother Goat by iPhone that we would be there by 1130PM. Not perfect, but tolerable.

We get to Denver only to discover our 955 has been delayed to 1040, then 1050 then 11. Then our mysterious equipment has arrived, but United hasn’t cleared the gate because they are holding a flight to Boise for late arriving passengers. That plane leaves and ours pulls in and it looks like we’re >actually going to board...., THEN they can’t find the ground crew, so we can’t board. We are pushed back back back back to 1201 to arrive in Bozeman by 156 AM! No snack, no free alcohol, no pillow, no blankie!
 The almost worth it highlight was the moonlight, a full moon an arrival to Bozeman, lighting the silvery Madison River and all its oxbows below us, snaking its way across the landscape of beautiful Bozangeles. Twenty minutes later we were snug in our beds on the meadow.

Wednesday, June 15, 2011

Why do we let airlines push us around

  So its summer ( or nearly ) and its the time when its easy to travel to and from Bozeangeles. The Goat family is in the midst of a family visiting stretch. The passes are clear of snow so friends and family can drive over from near by states and towns, but its amazing to think of anybody flying on a commercial airline these days.

 They nickel and dime you and expect you to put up with delays, cancellations and indignities at every step. My sister and niece came up from Houston to visit. It took them 18 hours of late flights canceled flights, missing ground crews , missing flight crews and rude attendants to get here. Picking them up at 2:30 in the morning at the greater Bozeangeles airport was no fun either.  I don't think this is uncommon, here in America or anywhere. My sister is writing a post for this blog on her tortured travels but I'd be interested in hearing yours as well. Please post your horror stories or suggestions for solutions below.

Tuesday, June 14, 2011

Bozeangeles and Richard Brautigan


  A beautiful day here in the bozeangeles metroplex too nice a day to be writing on this blog, but I will say if you get down on  Main st. Stop in for a beer and a burger at burger bobs the beer is nice and cold and the burgers and waitresses are hot.



The Memoirs of Jesse James"I remember all those thousands of hours
that I spent in grade school watching the clock,
waiting for recess or lunch or to go home.
     Waiting: for anything but school.
My teachers could easily have ridden with Jesse James
     for all the time they stole from me.  

Richard Brautigan  1969

Monday, June 13, 2011

Hoping for a Ray of Sunshine

  The Goat  faimly is hoping for a light at the end of the Rainbow, both in the weather and the economy. Last nights Rainbow was a headshake as it is pouring ( Montana wise ) here in Bozenageles . Will watch the first Republican/teaparty debate tonight to see if they have a clue.


Need  the rain to break so little goat and I can get on the trail  and away from the  asphalt.


'Riprap' by
Lay down these words
Before your mind like rocks.
placed solid, by hands
In choice of place, set
Before the body of the mind
in space and time:
Solidity of bark, leaf or wall
riprap of things:
Cobble of milky way,
straying planets,
These poems, people,
lost ponies with
Dragging saddles --
and rocky sure-foot trails.
The worlds like an endless
four-dimensional
Game of Go.
ants and pebbles
In the thin loam, each rock a word
a creek-washed stone
Granite: ingrained
with torment of fire and weight
Crystal and sediment linked hot
all change, in thoughts,
As well as things.


Gary Snyder

Sunday, June 12, 2011

June Storms

More rain here in Bozeangeles, The Yellowstone and Madison rivers are blown out and flooding,




Can you imagine a hundred and fifty years ago. A wagon train of settlers bogged down in the mud for weeks. Waiting for the weather to break.


  The dirt streets of the  then Cattle crowded streets of Bozeangles  starting point ( or ending point ) of the Bozeman trail . Chinese and Irish railroad workers mixing with cattle barons, cowboys, settlers , hookers and lawyers, all waiting for the rain to break, while the  Bozeman merchants get rich off their captive customers.
For the natives this was probably a good time . The invaders were slowed in their immigration into the diminishing refuge of the wilderness.


Saturday, June 11, 2011

And Now for Something Completely different



The Viking Terror
Since tonight the wind is high
The seas White mane a fury,
I need not fear the hordes of Hell
Coursing the Irish Channel


Friday, June 10, 2011

A Trip to Livngston Mt.

  Had a long Day in Livingston Mt. As Mrs Goat had surgery. A quiet little place on the road to several places  but east of the Bozeangeles metroplex. agreat town but suffering from the economics of Montana life.


A lot of empty store fronts and faded signs, but a refuge of three of my favorite writers, Richard Brautigan, Jimmy Buffett and Tom McGuane. It must  have been roaring in the late sixties when they were in town.

1975  Jimmy Buffett

You got your Tony Lama's on your jeans pressed tight
You take a few tokes make you feel alright
Rockin' and a rollin' on a Livingston Saturday Night

Got the pickup washed and you just got paid
With any luck at all you might even get laid
'Cause they're pickin' and a kickin' on a Livingston Saturday night

Yeah now listen to the sound of the hot country band
Boot heels a' shufflin' on the dance floor sand
Drink a little, think a little, shoot a little pool
Hittin' on the cuties right outta high school
Sixteen may get ya twenty, that's all right
'Cause they'll be rockin' and a rollin' on a Livingston Saturday night




Of course I found it hard to find a bar  at 12:30 on A  Friday afternoon but the Stockman bar was open and the beer was cold.  If you get over that way , try the Moose Drool  stout  and the fried Chicken Gizzard  is perfect on a hot day in a 40 year old bar
if
the river ain't running too fast the fishing is good too.




Thursday, June 9, 2011

Dogs for Friday Night

    No not what you think , I'm Thinking about Bozeangeles and other Frontier  towns  and the high ratio of dog owners. Certainly it is easier to own a dog out here with more open land and dogs are often considered a working animal. Helping herd the cattle , sheep and Jackalope  on the  sage flats. But it is clear they are a close companion for many reasons.
These mountain towns have a large population of single men and women and a dog offers them the  opportunity  to get that emotional reward we all crave in between leaving our parents home and finding a human companion to share our lives with . ( Okay  dogs also are good for meeting that  future human companion ).

 Dogs also have been proven to provide a calming effect  on the human brain . They are used as therapy animal in hospitals, old folk homes and prisons where inmates given the responsibility  for a dog ( or any animal) are less prone to violence and are better prepared for life in the real world .
  So given the importance and benefits of canines in our lives. Why don't we allow  dogs in our drinking establishments ?




  Not all Dogs of course, Dogs are only as good as their owner . Reasonable and Prudent should be the rule. A dog named Fang , Killer , Satan, etc should probably stay outside in the pick up, But I've met a pit bull named Kitty I'd be happy to share a beer with.





 I would think a well behaved dog would reduce violence, drunken excess  and other sorts of crime in bars. It would also re-enforce the sense of community in a bar and its customers .It offers the chance for people to communicate and share stories. The mental health of the patrons as a whole are raised when a well behaved dog enters a bar.

  This is certainly not an argument for  un-restrained animal husbandry in our city. Sheep belong  in the fields and a couple bars on the Hi-line and donkeys are only okay  in a beach bar in Cabo.
 I understand that for health reasons dogs and other animals are not allowed in places where food is generally served and consumed regularly.
  But in a bar such as the Crystal or  the Mint where the snacks have a half life of 30 yrs and the stomachs  of the patrons are sterilized by  alcohol  .


 let Fido roam

Wednesday, June 8, 2011

Bozeangeles Cafe' Society

Thanks to Wikipedia for this definition
Café society was the collective description for the so-called "Beautiful People" and "Bright Young Things" who gathered in fashionable cafes and restaurants in New York, Paris, London, Vienna, or Istanbul, beginning in the late 19th century. Lucius Beebe, noted American author, journalist, gourmand, and railroad enthusiast is generally credited with creating the term "café society," Although members of café society were not necessarily members of The Establishment or other ruling class groups, they were people who attended each other's private dinners and balls, took holidays in exotic locations or at elegant resorts .



 As one wanders down main on a summer evening , enjoying the crowds do you  wonder what  these people sipping their wine  at side walk tables  are thinking ? Are they debating the latest  episode in our economic slide ? The  latest war in the middle east ( isn't there always a war in the Middle East ?)  Or is it all about, the Best Fishing, Hiking, food  and Band ?


   These beautiful people earnestly looking into each others eyes and savoring the elixirs of life at the moment . Romance and passion mixed with an equal  amount of jealousy and envy, lurks here and there.

   If you try , you can see the same mix of people  as were found in Paris in 1920, War vets back from the  Ghan  or Iraq, trust fund  liberals spending Dad's allowance unaware of  Wall streets teetering collapse.




 The natives feeling both honored and Inadequate sitting at the same table with some east coast debutante  and her  ( Work in Progress ) boy toy .The software engineer, the not quite a writer ( Me 20 yrs ago ) want to be.  The girl  escaping the last relationship and her friend always looking for the next relationship.

"It takes a lot of time to be a genius. You have to sit around so much, doing nothing, really doing nothing."
Gertrude Stein

In a few short city blocks two hundred different soap operas, stories of Love and one or two stories of success and horror.  All to be resolved as the drinks add up and the lights are turned own.Just in time to provide  bleary eyed conversation at  Saturday morning's coffee.



How About you ?

Tuesday, June 7, 2011

The Rains return

  despite the brief threat of violent weather yesterday the  rain is a welcome respite  from the heat. Some people have been complaining but despite the threat of flooding in some areas ( you built in a flood plain duh ) its better than the drought , high heat and fires some parts of the country are facing.

  I've been quoting Ed Abbey too much but listening to the construction hammers out my window makes me seek solace in his words


"But love of the wilderness is more than a hunger for what is always beyond reach; it is also an expression of loyalty to the earth which bore us and sustains us, the only home we shall ever know, the only paradise we ever need - if only we had eyes to see." --Ed Abbey

Monday, June 6, 2011

What Luck for tyrants that we don't Vote

What Luck for tyrants that we don't Vote, Sorry to butcher a great phrase , but it seems to apply after watching the Bozeangles budget presentation tonight on channel 16 . Why must the city spend every dime as it comes in and bank on ever more income to pay next years bills .  They are like addicts expecting us to give them their next fix. Just because the feds won't be giving you more stimulus money does not mean you need to raise our tax so you can keep spending.


The ever-rising cost of living: Someday soon, the  city technicians will be locking meters on our noses and charging us a royalty on the air we breathe." --Edward Abbey

Sunday, June 5, 2011

Two great days in a row ( The Montana Blimp Race )

  What an amazing Sunday , remembering last years June storms including  the great hail storm of 2010 you wonder what Mother nature has designed for us this year. Well it was such a good day today Little goat and I hiked to the top of Peets hill to watch the start of the Bozeman to Missoula blimp race.  It was really cool watching them circle over Bobcat stadium waiting for the National guard to fire the starting gun.
 They had planned this for the 4th of July but because of the unsettled weather we had last year they gambled and held it this weekend after high school graduation. Wow they got it right. I guess it will take about 36 hours for the 4 blimps ( The Google blimp is out of the picture ) to make their way to Missoula. Little Goat was very excited and recognizing the logo of my favorite beverage kept shouting " Daddy's Beer ! " over and over. needless to say we are cheering for the Budweiser blimp. though the Good Year entry is favored.


Despite my feelings about the Bozeangeles City Govt . This is a great idea. I hope they do it again next year.

Saturday, June 4, 2011

What a great Day to raise the property tax

So it truly was a fantastic day in the Bozeangeles metroplex. A hot ,sunny day. Garage sales, fresh cut grass, kids running and screaming. Little goat did not stop all day until she collapsed at 7 pm. The beginning of cocktail hour at the Goat house. 
       Of course some of you are aware the city wants to raise property taxes again. Third time this year I think. Kind of sad when you think of all the empty, condos, houses and retail spaces around town.  couldn't the city learn to live with in their means just like the country is supposed to ?

http://www.bozemandailychronicle.com/opinions/polls/

Speaking of living on a budget , have you seen the new  Robotic babies for sale down at Lola's Electronic on Main St. ?  They are almost as expensive as having a baby of your own, and you have to program them to bond with you. You hook up this wire system to the Baby, your  wrist and a small tablet Computer. The Program then asks you a series of questions designed to illicit an emotional response. The robotic baby then  " Learns ", to react to your physical and emotional mood. FREAKY !  of course the technology was developed in Japan.

Friday, June 3, 2011

All That Glitters Chapter 1 The Hang Over Cafe

  From time to time I will turn this blog over to my co-conspirator in life  Mrs. Goat . She has a great talent as a creative writer . This is the first installment of a Soap Opera  called ALL THAT GLITTERS ,set in the  city of Bozeangeles. This  chapter was inspired by this weeks poll on Vampires .any resemblance to actual people, living , dead or undead is purely by accident....the editor Old Goat.

Nothing like a good greasy
 breakfast to cure a hangover. . . It's far too early for beer.
It's never too early for beer. How was you're night?
Oh God! I don't want to talk about it.
Why? Don't remember it or trying to forget that it happened.
Two words: Coyote Ugly.
Doh! I hate that when it happens.
Fuckin' beer goggles. I swear I went home with a ten. . . woke up with a negative ten.
So he was ugly, but how was the sex?
I'm goin' with unmemorable. Are you going to eat that sausage link?
Why? Remind you of Romeo from last night.
Shut it! I'm too sober for this conversation.

Hey, what happened to your neck last night? It looks like something bit you.
Like a spider bite?
No, bigger and less infected.
Huh? I don't know. Oh, did you cut your finger? May I?
Okay, THAT was just weird. What would possess you to lick my finger and like the taste of blood.
I don't know. I was an impulse.
Please tell me you didn't go home with a vampire last night.
I thought that was just a myth. Bozeangeles doesn't have vampires.
You may want to look at that bite on your neck, and stop sucking my finger. It's weird and rude. Here have some Heinz.

                                          

Thursday, June 2, 2011

New People In Town

There has  been a lot  of talk of  Foreigners (Californians , Canadians, Mexicans and the occasional Brit ) moving into town . I am sure there are problems and benefits to these and other immigrants . Our country, our state and our fair city of Bozeangeles were built on the backs and under the shovels of people from some place else ( much to the detriment of the true natives ).  However I've noticed a much larger population of Vampires this spring. They seem to be very common downtown and out on  7th  around the Cats Paw. They may be hanging around  Plonks and the other yuppie bars too but I can not tell them apart from the others ( lawyers, real estate agents , wireless phone Users , etc ) I'm wondering if my readers have noticed a rise in blood suckers as well ? So there is another poll to the right of this Post.

Wednesday, June 1, 2011

Missing the Mountains , when they are all around

Its interesting to see all the people who have moved to Bozeangeles to  get away from the rat race. We  promised ourselves , that we would get away from  material things. We'd savor that wilderness we really need, Ski, hike, fish and climb . Yet we stand in line for double  Mocha , coriander seasoned soy lattes.
We  twitter away on our wifi enabled  smart phone about the mortgage, commodity prices and the new wine bar on  Black and Mendenhall. We've fallen into the same trap the lowlanders have . We just don't wear ties.