Africa.
This blog has readers in African countries. Specifically, South Africa, Kenya, Nigeria, Botswana, Uganda, Zimbabwe. The World Wide Web, indeed.
How do I know?
Google. On the Admin side of it, I can see all kinds of information about those who read the Book of Charlie... What kind of OS they're running, which browser they use, which website pointed them in my direction... Where they are.
In elementary school, there was a really big globe on a table in the classroom. A globe with a topographic surface, so we pupils could feel the Rocky Mountains under our fingertips, like natural Braille. And for those of us who must have them, there were names on all the countries. I see so many of those names now on my screen.
Europe.
Germany. France. Belgium. The Netherlands. Spain. Portugal. Italy. Ireland. The U.K. Ukraine. Russia. More.
Places that have been devastated by war and the nightmares of authoritarianism. Places that were brutally civilized by the Roman Empire, then left to their own dark devices after the Empire crumbled. Places where the population outlasted the plague.
They know of a deeper historical suffering than any American could ever fathom. They know that borders are just stretches of land, lines on a map, all subject to the whims of those in power.
Turkmenistan.
Australia.
Vietnam.
Hong Kong.
Other Asian nations, too, obviously... but I am always struck when I see clicks from Hong Kong. The Communist Chinese government has them by the scruff of the neck, eager to extinguish those embers of liberty and self-determination.
The people of Hong Kong want what I have. That feels funny to me. Nobody should yearn for our experience, yet it seems like they sure do.
Idi Amin infamously, perhaps even jokingly, said, "There is freedom of speech, but I cannot guarantee freedom after speech."
(That feels familiar to me.)
He also said, "If we knew the meaning to everything that is happening to us, then there would be no meaning."
(So does that.)
I run these statistics, this geography primer, past my sister who lost her only son. I tell her, look, see how many people yearn for freedom? If that is really what we have?
"Oh," she said with a rare smile, "It's probably just medical students looking for medical schools in America." And we laughed. Not the most joyful sound in the world, but, something.
pH 5.o2.2o
***
Saturday, May 2, 2020
Tuesday, April 28, 2020
Saturday, April 18, 2020
Whatever and Taxes
In the midst of a national emergency, this writer would be derelict in his duties not to blog about certain circumstances. We are in Dire Straits, especially here in Southwest Michigan, where the virus is creeping down I-94 from both directions.
In Detroit, many people have died. That's a lot of bodies, a lot of burials or cremations, a lot of funerals, a lot of grief. (Some of us are used to it.)
The governess's stay-at-home orders have caused great anxiety, especially among those of us with a libertarian bent. Libertarianism is best described in three words... Leave us alone.
This was on full display at a noisy demonstration at the Capitol, perhaps politically funded and motivated, perhaps also well-intended... If you call walking around with an AR 15 slung over your shoulder, wearing fatigues, well-intended.
It is all understandable, though, as stress never has a good effect on anyone. The economic part, well... This is Michigan. We've never had nice things that any of of us can remember; ask a Lions fan. So that really isn't much of a factor.
In fact, round here, we like to look for the silver lining in the thick, dark gray cloud cover. About everything. Even death. Call it the unbearable lightness of being in Kalamazoo.
I have the option of being cremated or buried dead. Either way, your physical remains are to, eh, remain. Matter can be neither created nor destroyed, that's what it says on the Internet.
But then think about D.B. Cooper. He may have had a funeral, but we don't know if he had a cremation or burial, because we never found his body. For all we know, he was a Senator from Idaho. He just disappeared.
That seems preferable to dying. You might even find yourself frozen in a glacier somewhere, and half a million years later, a random scientist might extract your DNA and clone you. A few years ago they found a Wooly Mammoth frozen in the tundra, extracted his sperm, and when they can find a female elephant with the wherewithal, they will attempt to clone a hybrid Wooly Mammoth.
Of course, getting frozen in a glacier is not as easy as it sounds. If you go to the North Pole, even if you fall into a freshwater lake, the polar bears will eat you before you freeze solid... Maybe even before you're dead. So that wouldn't work.
The South Pole, that's a much longer journey for us Northern Hemispherians. And there's no guarantee that the leopard seals won't be just as lethal as the polar bears, never mind the penguins.
Besides that, global warming. Let's face it, no one's going to be found frozen in a glacier in 500,000 years. Nobody's going to be found frozen in a glacier in five years.
Before most of us are gone, knock on wood, Antarctica will be an alpine real estate haven for the wealthy, fueled by tourism, golf and agriculture - an economic boom for the Antarcticans.
"We have nothing to fear but fear itself, and death." I said that to a grocery store worker last week. She laughed.
Because it's true.
Ask a Lions fan.
pH 4.18.2o
***
In Detroit, many people have died. That's a lot of bodies, a lot of burials or cremations, a lot of funerals, a lot of grief. (Some of us are used to it.)
The governess's stay-at-home orders have caused great anxiety, especially among those of us with a libertarian bent. Libertarianism is best described in three words... Leave us alone.
This was on full display at a noisy demonstration at the Capitol, perhaps politically funded and motivated, perhaps also well-intended... If you call walking around with an AR 15 slung over your shoulder, wearing fatigues, well-intended.
It is all understandable, though, as stress never has a good effect on anyone. The economic part, well... This is Michigan. We've never had nice things that any of of us can remember; ask a Lions fan. So that really isn't much of a factor.
In fact, round here, we like to look for the silver lining in the thick, dark gray cloud cover. About everything. Even death. Call it the unbearable lightness of being in Kalamazoo.
I have the option of being cremated or buried dead. Either way, your physical remains are to, eh, remain. Matter can be neither created nor destroyed, that's what it says on the Internet.
But then think about D.B. Cooper. He may have had a funeral, but we don't know if he had a cremation or burial, because we never found his body. For all we know, he was a Senator from Idaho. He just disappeared.
That seems preferable to dying. You might even find yourself frozen in a glacier somewhere, and half a million years later, a random scientist might extract your DNA and clone you. A few years ago they found a Wooly Mammoth frozen in the tundra, extracted his sperm, and when they can find a female elephant with the wherewithal, they will attempt to clone a hybrid Wooly Mammoth.
Of course, getting frozen in a glacier is not as easy as it sounds. If you go to the North Pole, even if you fall into a freshwater lake, the polar bears will eat you before you freeze solid... Maybe even before you're dead. So that wouldn't work.
The South Pole, that's a much longer journey for us Northern Hemispherians. And there's no guarantee that the leopard seals won't be just as lethal as the polar bears, never mind the penguins.
Besides that, global warming. Let's face it, no one's going to be found frozen in a glacier in 500,000 years. Nobody's going to be found frozen in a glacier in five years.
Before most of us are gone, knock on wood, Antarctica will be an alpine real estate haven for the wealthy, fueled by tourism, golf and agriculture - an economic boom for the Antarcticans.
"We have nothing to fear but fear itself, and death." I said that to a grocery store worker last week. She laughed.
Because it's true.
Ask a Lions fan.
pH 4.18.2o
***
Saturday, March 21, 2020
Chapter Last
Every good story must come to an end, and even sad stories, too. I ought not keep grinding away on hearts of stone. Eventually they will find some lawyer loophole in the First Amendment through which to cause us ever more harm.
Hell, they've already done that...
I mean, you saw it. I don't think it's any more debatable than 2+2=4. But that doesn't matter to bureaucrats who are appointed and shielded by carpetbagger county commissioners, always grasping for the next rung anyway.
We followed all the proper procedures to get the Medical Examiner to change the determination on Charlie's death certificate. She should want to do that, since the reasons she used to make that call are faulty (by her own admission).
But she doesn't want to. And when Joyce doesn't want to do something, nobody can make her... Well, the Commission could. But the County says no, and "our" court system automatically defers to them, no matter what.
That's it. That's how stories end.
That's how it ended for Carisa Ashe, left sterilized as part of her Alford plea after being prosecuted for the death of her baby. That's how it ended for David Ferris, thrown in jail for 3 months and subjected to death threats after being prosecuted for the death of his girlfriend's child - before the prosecutor dropped the case.
If you think about it, We actually got off lucky. Most people who tangle with Joyce don't.
Now, with a plague having descended upon humanity, nobody knows what is going to happen (a feeling I got used to years ago). That kind of uncertainty can put a huge strain on most people... Medical Examiners in particular.
This is as good a time as any to walk away from it. Like Web Guy said, I can have peace. Not the same thing as victory, but at least something.
Charlie would obviously agree. Here's to you kid. I wrote a book after you, the truth, and it will remain. Because the Internet is forever, your story will always be told, ostensibly even after I'm dead...
I done tolled it.
pH 3.21.2o
***
Hell, they've already done that...
I mean, you saw it. I don't think it's any more debatable than 2+2=4. But that doesn't matter to bureaucrats who are appointed and shielded by carpetbagger county commissioners, always grasping for the next rung anyway.
We followed all the proper procedures to get the Medical Examiner to change the determination on Charlie's death certificate. She should want to do that, since the reasons she used to make that call are faulty (by her own admission).
But she doesn't want to. And when Joyce doesn't want to do something, nobody can make her... Well, the Commission could. But the County says no, and "our" court system automatically defers to them, no matter what.
That's it. That's how stories end.
That's how it ended for Carisa Ashe, left sterilized as part of her Alford plea after being prosecuted for the death of her baby. That's how it ended for David Ferris, thrown in jail for 3 months and subjected to death threats after being prosecuted for the death of his girlfriend's child - before the prosecutor dropped the case.
If you think about it, We actually got off lucky. Most people who tangle with Joyce don't.
Now, with a plague having descended upon humanity, nobody knows what is going to happen (a feeling I got used to years ago). That kind of uncertainty can put a huge strain on most people... Medical Examiners in particular.
This is as good a time as any to walk away from it. Like Web Guy said, I can have peace. Not the same thing as victory, but at least something.
Charlie would obviously agree. Here's to you kid. I wrote a book after you, the truth, and it will remain. Because the Internet is forever, your story will always be told, ostensibly even after I'm dead...
I done tolled it.
pH 3.21.2o
***
Tuesday, March 10, 2020
4,441
The Prodigal Son came up from Phoenix in late January of '11. The worst time of the year. Welcomed home by a sunset snowstorm, the cold air felt good in the lungs, on the sunburnt skin. Slept with the window open that first night, eager to forget the long road behind.
It occurs to me now that I have spent more time without Charlie than I got to spend with him. He died in late July of '15, four and a half years after my frozen homecoming. Now it's March of '20. Do the math.
In the entirety of his lifetime, my nephew was on Earth for 4,441 days. Less time than Franklin Delano Roosevelt spent in the White House. Less time than it took us to lose the Vietnam War.
By late '27, Charlie Wolf's deathspan will have eclipsed his lifespan, and the human stain known as Kalamazoo County Medical Examiner Joyce deJong will still not have admitted that she was wrong when she fraudulently mislabeled his death a suicide.
And I'll still be here, telling you the truth about that... Why? Because I swore to the soul of a lost little boy that I would. Because that's what Uncles do.
Because The Prodigal Son didn't come up from Phoenix for nothing. Here at home, under the milk-white sky, the sunburn has long since faded. My determination will not.
pH 3.1o.2o
***
It occurs to me now that I have spent more time without Charlie than I got to spend with him. He died in late July of '15, four and a half years after my frozen homecoming. Now it's March of '20. Do the math.
In the entirety of his lifetime, my nephew was on Earth for 4,441 days. Less time than Franklin Delano Roosevelt spent in the White House. Less time than it took us to lose the Vietnam War.
By late '27, Charlie Wolf's deathspan will have eclipsed his lifespan, and the human stain known as Kalamazoo County Medical Examiner Joyce deJong will still not have admitted that she was wrong when she fraudulently mislabeled his death a suicide.
And I'll still be here, telling you the truth about that... Why? Because I swore to the soul of a lost little boy that I would. Because that's what Uncles do.
Because The Prodigal Son didn't come up from Phoenix for nothing. Here at home, under the milk-white sky, the sunburn has long since faded. My determination will not.
pH 3.1o.2o
***
Wednesday, February 19, 2020
Invoicentory
How long have I been saying it? Four years almost? Dr. Joyce deJong, who is the Medical Examiner of Kalamazoo County and also the Chief Pathologist of Western Michigan University's (nonprofit!) Homer Stryker School of Medicine, is too expensive for us poor wee town folk... And We can't have nice things, either.
It's not just her salary, which is much, much higher than the area's median income. The same can be said of WMed Dean Hal Jenson, whose whopping $400,000 annual windfall places him among the top-paid Administrators in all of Michigan.
It's the hidden costs of the Medical Examiner's Office that quietly seep through the banks of this shabby (and yet likeable) little rust-belt river town, which never quite recovered from losing Gibson Guitars all those decades ago.
Hidden costs like this, which we are paying for and so are you, if you live anywhere near us... Here's a big, fat, juicy, public sausage for your consumption, the dollar value that my hometown puts on my family's pain:
https://drive.google.com/file/d/1QBKHssrWVkiNUGjfZVLdBcqklYCp3qRZ/view?usp=drivesdk
If you add that up, it's +/- $26,000 in cold taxpayer cash that has been spent by our government against us, just in the requested 16-month window. The horrifying whole is the sum of those parts.
What for?
You can assume, for rounding purposes, that a like amount was spent in the several years leading up to this invoice batch and in the 5 months since. Pure waste.
***
Here, stand in my sister's shoes, if you like.
1. Your child dies in your front yard, even though you attempted CPR.
2. The little guy's tragic death is declared a suicide based on non-factual reasons (as stated in official reports).
3. You point out the gross inaccuracies, which may or may not have led to the on-scene investigator being fired.
4. The County acknowledges its mistakes, in writing, through one of its attorneys, but still won't change the determination on the Death Certificate.
Do you sue them? Of course she did... Well, it's an Administrative Appeal, so I'm not sure about that. (Not really my wheelhouse.)
With this information, we can see how deep their-- well, how deep your pockets are, Kalamazoo. Getting toward six figures now; salud. It's an extra large pizza with sh*t and double cheese on it, and every resident in the county gets a little slice.
***
You're walking past a long wooden fence. You notice a knot hole in one of the rough-sawn boards. You put your eye to the knot hole. You can't see everything that's going on in there. But what you can see should tell you enough.
Enough.
pH 2.19.2o
***
It's not just her salary, which is much, much higher than the area's median income. The same can be said of WMed Dean Hal Jenson, whose whopping $400,000 annual windfall places him among the top-paid Administrators in all of Michigan.
It's the hidden costs of the Medical Examiner's Office that quietly seep through the banks of this shabby (and yet likeable) little rust-belt river town, which never quite recovered from losing Gibson Guitars all those decades ago.
Hidden costs like this, which we are paying for and so are you, if you live anywhere near us... Here's a big, fat, juicy, public sausage for your consumption, the dollar value that my hometown puts on my family's pain:
https://drive.google.com/file/d/1QBKHssrWVkiNUGjfZVLdBcqklYCp3qRZ/view?usp=drivesdk
If you add that up, it's +/- $26,000 in cold taxpayer cash that has been spent by our government against us, just in the requested 16-month window. The horrifying whole is the sum of those parts.
What for?
You can assume, for rounding purposes, that a like amount was spent in the several years leading up to this invoice batch and in the 5 months since. Pure waste.
***
Here, stand in my sister's shoes, if you like.
1. Your child dies in your front yard, even though you attempted CPR.
2. The little guy's tragic death is declared a suicide based on non-factual reasons (as stated in official reports).
3. You point out the gross inaccuracies, which may or may not have led to the on-scene investigator being fired.
4. The County acknowledges its mistakes, in writing, through one of its attorneys, but still won't change the determination on the Death Certificate.
Do you sue them? Of course she did... Well, it's an Administrative Appeal, so I'm not sure about that. (Not really my wheelhouse.)
With this information, we can see how deep their-- well, how deep your pockets are, Kalamazoo. Getting toward six figures now; salud. It's an extra large pizza with sh*t and double cheese on it, and every resident in the county gets a little slice.
***
You're walking past a long wooden fence. You notice a knot hole in one of the rough-sawn boards. You put your eye to the knot hole. You can't see everything that's going on in there. But what you can see should tell you enough.
Enough.
pH 2.19.2o
***
Saturday, February 8, 2020
Punked
I am wearing my PUNK T-shirt today. That stands for, "Professional Uncle, No Kids". (I have another one that says GRUNCLE, as in, I'm a Grand-Uncle now, too.)
Yep. Lots of nieces and nephews running around on Planet Earth. Just not as many as there used to be.
How they have enjoyed the Uncle Paul Stories over the years... This story excepted, the Book of Charlie, which is a story about the tunnel at the end of the light.
What have they learned here? They are all witnesses, these little pitchers with big ears, these adorable crumb-snatchers that my siblings have so bravely brought into this strange world. What did they see?
They saw us endure a cascade of horror shows perpetrated by our unfeeling public servants, among others.
They watched us play by the rules, follow the proscribed protocols, and get blown out like prayer candles at every turn.
They witnessed us get knocked down, and get back up, clear our nostrils and get back to it. That's what parents do. That's what aunts and uncles do. Win or lose, the good example has already been set, as it would have to be in juxtaposition to the bad examples and sorry excuses that I have chronicled here.
Charlie would give me major PUNK points for that. No matter what it may say on the last page.
pH 2.o8.2o
***
Yep. Lots of nieces and nephews running around on Planet Earth. Just not as many as there used to be.
How they have enjoyed the Uncle Paul Stories over the years... This story excepted, the Book of Charlie, which is a story about the tunnel at the end of the light.
What have they learned here? They are all witnesses, these little pitchers with big ears, these adorable crumb-snatchers that my siblings have so bravely brought into this strange world. What did they see?
They saw us endure a cascade of horror shows perpetrated by our unfeeling public servants, among others.
They watched us play by the rules, follow the proscribed protocols, and get blown out like prayer candles at every turn.
They witnessed us get knocked down, and get back up, clear our nostrils and get back to it. That's what parents do. That's what aunts and uncles do. Win or lose, the good example has already been set, as it would have to be in juxtaposition to the bad examples and sorry excuses that I have chronicled here.
Charlie would give me major PUNK points for that. No matter what it may say on the last page.
pH 2.o8.2o
***
Wednesday, January 22, 2020
See How They Walk
This sort of thing is typical, for Kalamazoo County, I mean:
On Jan 21, 2020 1:48 PM, "Julie M. Rogers" <Julie.Rogers@kalcounty.com> wrote:
Theresa,
First off, BOOOOOO! BOOOOOOOO!!
Moreover, the matter is actually not "in litigation" at all. As Charlie's next of kin, my sister filed an Administrative Appeal, as allowed by law. But once again, mysterious, unnamed, unconstitutional "County attorneys" are contravening our right to representative government.
It's a perversion of public service. And they don't mind doing it out in the open.
Bless her broken heart, just as she still has faith in God after losing her child, my sister still believes in the American way. She keeps searching for hope where there is none. Keeps believing that the next person who puts up a polite front might be the hero, might be the one who will help, might be someone with a soul.
I stopped believing all that stuff a long time ago because I lived in Phoenix. I came to understand that most people in government are capricious, arbitrary little pricks, and that our laws are written down because it's the only way to make these control freaks stay in line.
Until they refuse to. We see that a lot in government these days, don't we.
I would encourage you to stand up to your public officials - elected and appointed - in every instance, Citizen. Or this new abnormal will be cemented in place forever across our sweet land... Like it is, here, in Kalamazoo.
pH 1.22.2o
***
On Jan 21, 2020 1:48 PM, "Julie M. Rogers" <Julie.Rogers@kalcounty.com> wrote:
Theresa,
I was looking forward to meeting with you to learn more about this issue that you and your family have been facing. Unfortunately, I was recently notified by our County attorneys that this matter is still in litigation, and have been advised against discussing it with you at this time.
I do support the idea of legislation to add another layer of a formal appeals process should people wish to appeal medical examiner decisions.I am sorry I am unable to meet at this time.Thank you for your understanding.Sincerely,
Julie Rogers
Kalamazoo County Board Chair
First off, BOOOOOO! BOOOOOOOO!!
Moreover, the matter is actually not "in litigation" at all. As Charlie's next of kin, my sister filed an Administrative Appeal, as allowed by law. But once again, mysterious, unnamed, unconstitutional "County attorneys" are contravening our right to representative government.
It's a perversion of public service. And they don't mind doing it out in the open.
Bless her broken heart, just as she still has faith in God after losing her child, my sister still believes in the American way. She keeps searching for hope where there is none. Keeps believing that the next person who puts up a polite front might be the hero, might be the one who will help, might be someone with a soul.
I stopped believing all that stuff a long time ago because I lived in Phoenix. I came to understand that most people in government are capricious, arbitrary little pricks, and that our laws are written down because it's the only way to make these control freaks stay in line.
Until they refuse to. We see that a lot in government these days, don't we.
I would encourage you to stand up to your public officials - elected and appointed - in every instance, Citizen. Or this new abnormal will be cemented in place forever across our sweet land... Like it is, here, in Kalamazoo.
pH 1.22.2o
***
Thursday, January 16, 2020
2020 Vision
I know this is late in arriving, but can anyone guess what my New Year's Resolution is for 2020?
Same as it was in 2019.
And in 2018.
And in 2017.
And in 2016.
To keep pushing. To see it through. To know that the truth has been told.
Now, for sure, the county and the M.E. office is sick of me. They've ignored all my pleadings, plaintive or otherwise... Attempted to swindle from me my free speech rights... Denied me representation from my duly elected officials... Conspired with somebody who sued me (unsuccessfully)... Reported me to the police.
Those are all hard things to do. Yet what I am asking them for is a very easy thing to do: Check a box.
Oh, how they grouse and complain, these wet hens at WMed. I have the emails to prove it! But I could be worse than I have been.
For example, I could post a public document containing the medical examiner's personal email address, one of dozens we obtained via the Freedom of Information Act. It is there because Dr. Joyce deJong emailed something (having to do with this case) from her work account to her personal account.
Whether she's allowed to do that or not (just like faxing Charlie's release form to Martha right before she sued us, hm, Joyce?), as my attorney friend once said, those who reveal personal information during the course of public duties do so at their own FOIA risk.
But it's not a vendetta I'm pursuing.
It's a verdict.
My nephew, Charlie Wolf, is innocent as charged by Kalamazoo County's hired goons. He did not commit suicide.
I rest my case.
pH 1.16.2o
***
Same as it was in 2019.
And in 2018.
And in 2017.
And in 2016.
To keep pushing. To see it through. To know that the truth has been told.
Now, for sure, the county and the M.E. office is sick of me. They've ignored all my pleadings, plaintive or otherwise... Attempted to swindle from me my free speech rights... Denied me representation from my duly elected officials... Conspired with somebody who sued me (unsuccessfully)... Reported me to the police.
Those are all hard things to do. Yet what I am asking them for is a very easy thing to do: Check a box.
Oh, how they grouse and complain, these wet hens at WMed. I have the emails to prove it! But I could be worse than I have been.
For example, I could post a public document containing the medical examiner's personal email address, one of dozens we obtained via the Freedom of Information Act. It is there because Dr. Joyce deJong emailed something (having to do with this case) from her work account to her personal account.
Whether she's allowed to do that or not (just like faxing Charlie's release form to Martha right before she sued us, hm, Joyce?), as my attorney friend once said, those who reveal personal information during the course of public duties do so at their own FOIA risk.
But it's not a vendetta I'm pursuing.
It's a verdict.
My nephew, Charlie Wolf, is innocent as charged by Kalamazoo County's hired goons. He did not commit suicide.
I rest my case.
pH 1.16.2o
***
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