Palin’s international connection

<a onblur=”try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}” href=”http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_idlYwkc9AhE/SN7ETrdSsWI/AAAAAAAAEq0/_OPCWSmDY-4/s1600-h/palinsyrah.jpg”><img style=”float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;” src=”http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_idlYwkc9AhE/SN7ETrdSsWI/AAAAAAAAEq0/_OPCWSmDY-4/s200/palinsyrah.jpg” border=”0″ alt=”"id=”BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5250850057922720098″ /></a>Her detractors say GOP vice presidential nominee Sarah Palin has no experience in international matters. One product from a boutique Chilean winery might be pointed to by her supporters as evidence of her international reach.

It’s called Palin Syrah.

The actual pronunciation is <span style=”font-style:italic;”>pah-leen</span>, referring to the ball in a Chilean-style hockey game.

We know such plays on names are all part of the ephemeral thing that is politics, and reading any significance into them is about as useful as, well, as putting lipstick on a pig, as some current poltical hacks would say.

Nevertheless, Fox News thought it important enough to have a reporter for its election news Web site check out the political and business implications of such a wine being available to American consumers.

The bottom line, says Fox, is that San Franciscans are so left-wing they hate anything remotely resembling a Republican in name, wine or anything else, so Palin Syrah is being shunned even though it sold well before anyone outside her state knew of Sarah Palin. And, meanwhile, in the Republican stronghold of Texas, the wine is selling like mad.

If you must read the whole story, just click <a href=”http://elections.foxnews.com/2008/09/24/palin-syrah-wine-drinkers-balk-at-a-chilean-wine-with-hints-of-alaska/”>here</a>.

What would Winston Churchill do?

Here’s an actual BBC video of Georgia President Saakashvili conferring with another world leader over Russia’s armed attacks on the small nation.

What do you get for the man who has everything?

News Item: Former South African President Nelson Mandela has been taken off the U.S. terror watch list. President George W. Bush signed a bill removing him and other members of the African National Congress from the list that has kept them from entering the U.S., except to visit the United Nations complex, without special dispensation from the U.S. Secretary of State.

This from a government that allowed suspected and known terrorists into the country for years and, for all we know in this era of keeping as much as possible secret from the public, still does.

It all came about when Mandela’s African National Congress (ANC) was designated as a terrorist organization by South Africa’s old apartheid regime back in 1960.

Mandela, who spent 27 years in prison for working against the policy of racial terrorism, became his nation’s first post-apartheid president but the U.S. inexplicably kept the ANC on its terror watch list.

Secretary of State Condoleezza Rice had called the restrictions a “rather embarrassing matter that I still have to waive in my own counterpart, the foreign minister of South Africa, not to mention the great leader Nelson Mandela.”

Bush’s action is a nice birthday present for Mandela who will turn 90 this month.

Small consolation for Graz Giants

Admittedly, the Austrian Bowl XXIV isn’t nearly as prestigious as the Euro Bowl, but after seeing its bid for a third consecutive Euro title dashed, my Turek Graz Giants are looking for some sort of title.

Sort of like a college basketball team settling for an NIT title when it isn’t invited to the NCAA tourney.

For newcomers to this blog, these particular Giants hail from the Czech Republic and play American-style European football. I care about them because my New Jersey New York New Jersey Giants don’t open their pre-season camp at the University at Albany (NY) — near my home — for a few more weeks and I need my football fix.

I’d hoped the Graz Giants would make it a threepeat in the Euro Bowl, but no, they couldn’t pull it off. As the English-language translation on their Web site explains the situation:

Turek Graz Giants before
moving into the finals of the AFL

After the unfortunate departure of the GIANTS in the euro Bowl – last weekend – is on 14.6.2008 the semi-finals of the Austrian Bowl before.

The enemy in this encounter as ever this year – the Danube Dragons. 1st Meeting on 4 May had the blue and yellow with a narrow 41:35 defeat After the marriage, but for the semi-finals will be Head Coach Rick Rhoades the perfect team to prepare for the game.

Executive Armin Karisch: “I am proud of the team and the appearance against the Raiders – our players have shown a sensational line! Unfortunately it has not worked in Tirol, but the GIANTS still have a chance at the title in the AFL. “

If this hurdle – against the serious Danube Dragons – will be mastered, the TUREK GRAZ GIANTS in the final of the AFL, which on 27 June 2008 in Wolfsberg / Carinthia.

So, how did we fall to this level? Here’s the explanation for the game that did the Giants in:

GIANTS dream of Euro Bowl final burst!

The TUREK GIANTS GRAZ had yesterday – in a real thriller – in the 2nd Overtime against the Raiders Tyrol with Swarco 49:56 beaten.

The blue and yellow from Graz stood with one leg already in the finals, but in a very exciting and very balanced game, the Raiders from the Tyrol Quentchen Glückauf their side.

By half-time whistle went GIANTS with a 28:14 lead in the cabin, but this game was much more scarce than the game was suspect. “An extremely balanced and exciting role in the yet been decided,” commented GIANTS the Board Armin Karisch 1st Half-time: “The key will be how we enter the 3rd quarter” After record.

Unfortunately, this Einstig failed, the Raiders gained ground and accelerated during the 2 Half time the distance. Finally, they 2 minutes before the end even the initial lead in this game for 42:35.

When the Tyrolean fans just before the end of jubilation for the leveraged singing, was the blue and yellow from the Graz Incredible. Chris Gun and his colleagues took – 23 seconds before the end – with an unbelievable TD and PAT followed back into the game; game 42:42!

The Tyrolean Fangesang silent, silence and erschrockene Tyrolean faces everywhere you looked.

Score at the end of the 4 / 4 thus 42:42 and after a short break, it went into overtime.

Here’s where we get into the really exciting stuff:

This high-level European semi-finals – played so the current number 1 against No. 2 – had already left its mark. Both players the Raiders – some had to because of cramps on the playing field edge treatment – as well as the GIANTS – here bangte around the health status of Georg Purger – the result of many hard Tackles fortunately but “only” with a massive chest contusion after extensive Investigations in Innsbruck LKH the trip home was allowed.

1st Turn the Overtime succeeded both GIANTS then, as well as the Raiders one TD + PAT. In the 2nd Turn, the Raiders with a TD + PAT and the GIANTS had to follow suit. Unfortunately Quentchen lacked the luck and failed in 4rd down the blue and yellow, the last attempt. It was this high-profile game – in which both teams deserved the victory – in favour of the extension Swarco Raiders Tyrol decided.

I just hate it when things go that way. But, at least there is the Austrian Bowl on June 27. It’s no San Diego County Credit Union Poinsettia Bowl or even the Petro Sun Independence Bowl. But it is a bowl game and I’d be satisfied if my Graz Giants won it.

A world view? Don’t bank on it

See those two banknotes? The top one is a 10-pound British note, the bottom one a 10-pound Scottish note. They have been legitimate currency around the world since long before the United States was even an idea.

As of the close of business Friday, each of them was worth $19.7920 in U.S. currency. It took me less than 30 seconds online to ascertain that rate of exchange. It took me only a little more than that to thoroughly confuse three naive employees of the Pioneer Savings Bank’s Brunswick, NY, branch office where I do a lot of business.

Perhaps I should say “did” a lot of business. After the rank ineptitude and dismissive attitude I witnessed, I’m seriously considering taking my business elsewhere.

The situation was simply this. I had five 10-pound notes left over from a recent trip to Scotland. That means I had roughly $100 worth of U.S. money tied up in banknotes I couldn’t spend locally. So, I went to a bank to exchange the notes for good ol’ Yankee greenbacks.

The first teller literally pulled back her hand when I presented the UK notes, as if I had tossed her a red-hot charcoal briquette.

“I don’t know what to do with these,” she stammered.

“Simple,” I said. “Just look up the current rate of exchange and I’ll see if I want to trade the notes today or wait till the rate is a little more in my favor.”

Not a bad plan, I thought, since the exchange rate was 2.06 U.S. dollars for each British/Scottish pound last week when I got the notes in the Royal Bank of Scotland in Edinburgh — without the slightest problem, I should add.

“I don’t know how,” she said, gesturing in a panicky fashion to a young man I took to be an assistant manager of some sort, although throughout my visit he never introduced himself or his title.

“Oh, we can’t access that kind of information on these screens,” he said, gesturing to the teller’s screen and starting to walk away.

“May I suggest you try a computer with Internet access?” I said. “I know you have them here. It only takes a few seconds to get the current exchange rate.”

He hemmed and hawed, then pointed in the direction of someone at another window. “She’ll have to do this when she’s finished with what she’s doing,” he said rather brusquely, then made a success of retreating to a small office across the lobby. “I have another customer I’m taking care of.”

“She” was finished in about three minutes with whatever business she was transacting, then turned to me and asked how she could help.

“I merely want to exchange these five banknotes for U.S. currency. One is a 10-pound British note, and the other four are each 10-pound Scottish notes. But they’re all worth the same amount,” I explained, wondering why in the world I had to explain something so basic to supposed banking professionals.

She picked up the notes I’d spread on her little teller window ledge and walked to the office where the presumed manager of the moment had scurried. She waited at the doorway for about five minutes till he had completed his business with the other customer. I stood right behind her.

She walked in, put the notes on his desk and said to him, “I don’t know what to do with these things. Are they checks, or what?”

“I don’t know,” he said. “We can’t do anything with these anyway.”

That was it for me. I walked in the office and, mustering up all the remaining patience I possessed, said, “They’re called money. They’re not checks, for heaven’s sake. Just look at them. All I want is to exchange them back into U.S. currency. And all you have to do is look on the Internet at the currency exchange rate to know how much to give me.”

“We can’t do that,” he said, beginning to sound more miffed than befuddled.

“Why not?” I replied. “This is a bank. You’re supposed to, among other things, change money. Any bank in Europe does it for any currency. It’s elementary banking.”

“Oh, sure,” he said with an “Aha!” look. “In Europe. But we’re not allowed to do that here. What would we do with the foreign money you gave us?”

“You’d send it to your main office, and they’d exchange it at a favorable rate with a central bank,” I said. “You mean to tell me you’ve never been taught how to make such a basic transaction?”

“Well, we just can’t do that,” he said, metaphorically — and perhaps actually, although I couldn’t see under his desk — digging in his heels. “You’ll have to go to some other bank.”

So, I went home, seething and marveling at just one more example of U.S. insulation from the rest of the real world and wondering if that ever will change.

It’s no wonder so many people in other countries think we’re such rubes. Many of us are. And Pioneer Savings Bank has a whole cluster of them.

Low times in the Highlands

ABERDEENSHIRE, Scotland — Here I am, traveling in the Highlands of Scotland, where life seems to move at a snail’s pace, history is apparent all around you, and the place looks rock solid.

Literally, since nearly every structure is made of granite blocks or stone and their longevity morphs from one century to the next with little apparent difference.

Yet all the newspapers are dwelling heavily on only three topics:

1. How silly British Prime Minister Gordon Brown is being made to look because of a tell-all book from ex-PM Tony Blair’s oputspoken wife, Cherie, who (shock and awe!) doesn’t care for Gordon.

2. How rocky the financial situation is “north of the border,” which means Scotland itself where housing prices are skyrocketing, inflation is rising at a faster rate (3.5%) than anywhere else in the United Kingdom (which includes England, Wales and Northern Ireland), and unemployment is on the rise.

3. How bad the alcohol abuse is getting, a particular problem in a country where more than 40,000 people out of a total population of barely 5 million rely on the whisky industry for jobs — and that is not including people in the retail business of selling the stuff.

Some of the solutions that are being suggested from various corners are as hysterical as the incessant reporting on them, except for the Gordon Brown thing which is great theater for the masses who love seeing the balloons of the high and mighty pricked sharply.

For the alcohol problem, the suggestions range from raising the drinking age beyond 21 to raising prices (even though Scotch whisky costs much more in Scotland than it does abroad, due to the regressive taxing policies) or even making public intoxication a higher crime.

As to the financial situation, the ideas range from strict price controls to more restrictive bank loan policies (they have the same problem with sub-prime mortgages we in the U.S. have), although no one wants to officially put forth a comprehensive plan for fear of commiting political suicide.

Oh, there has been one other item in the news. The idea of Scottish independence.

Of course, that one has been rattling around since the 18th Century, when the anti-English rebellion in support of Bonnie Prince Charlie fizzled out after a hideous defeat at Culloden on April 16, 1746. A battle that lasted less than an hour killed 1,500 Highlanders vs. a mere 50 or so English regulars. It effectively broke the back of the Jacobite movement, leading to the banning of such ethnic staples as the playing of the bagpipes and the wearing of the kilts and tartans.

Now there are calls from Sean Connery from the comfort of his homes abroad and other nationalists still residing in Scotland to push forward with a vote on splitting off from the U.K.

As an outsider, I have perhaps a more measured reaction to the idea than someone who is emotionally invested. I think it’s ridiculous. Given all the hoo-haw of financial woes and a bleak outlook for years to come, the last thing that would be needed is trying to establish a truly independent country.

Evidence? Take Scotland’s currency. The Scottish pound is issued by the government, but it also is issued by two different banks. Money from all three sources can be spent anywhere in Scotland, but only those issued by the government are worth anything outside the borders. If they can’t get their act together on a simplified, unified currency recognized worldwide, imagine the problems of being a soveriegn nation with financial woes trying to be trusted financially in a global economy.

Andorra calling

This just in.

After hosting thousands upon thousands of visitors from all over the globe, my drinks Web site just got its first visitor from Andorra.

That may not mean anything to most people, but for someone like me who has had a lifelong fascination with maps, geography and tiny, out-of-the-way countries (see San Marino, Liechtenstein and Kiribati), a real-time connection with someone in Andorra is like striking gold.

I’ve visited a couple of tiny countries — Luxembourg, located at the confluence of Belgium, France and Germany, and Antigua & Barbuda, an islands-nation in the Caribbean, for example — but they’re easily reached.

The Principality of Andorra is a bit more remote, tucked into a 174-square-mile pocket in the eastern Pyrenees mountains between France and Spain, although 10 million tourists manage to get there each year.  

That must agree with the 72,000 locals since tourism provides 80% of the country’s income and the population has the highest average life expectancy of any nation in the world (80 for men, 86 for women). 

One of the biggest attractions is the large amount of area for skiing. This Sunday, for example, the main race of the Andorran Ski Championship will be held and thousands of fans will flock to the mountains for the event.

But that’s the touristy stuff. When I visit a country I prefer to find something offbeat. In Andorra, that can be the bordas, the old traditional mountain homes. More than two dozen of them have been converted to public restaurants, most of which are known for a signature dish. Thus, a tour of the bordas is a gastronomic treat that comes highly recommended.

I’m making out my dining list right now. If I can just link up to my Web site visitor, I may even be able to get a personal tour.

THE WIZARD OF ABKHAZIA

I’ve prided myself since childhood on my knowledge of world geography. Imagine my chagrin, then, when I was perusing the BBC news headlines and thought a Harry Potter location had somehow broken into the Muggles world.

“Breakaway Abkhazia votes in poll,” blared the headline.

Azkaban broke away from the world of wizards, I thought for just the briefest of brief moments. Then, just as quickly, I thought “What the hell is wrong with me?”

In the back of my mind I’m just like kids my grandchildren’s ages — and, truth be told, a lot of people my age and the ages of my grown children — who are anxiously awaiting the final volume of Harry Potter’s adventures to be released this summer. But, I really must get a grip and not let the mystical world rule my reality.

As any sane person knows, Azkaban is an eerie place that is located somewhere off the main British Isles, or not, and serves as the location for a high-security wizard prison in all the Harry Potter tales.

Abkhazia is a region on the Black Sea that has been trying since a brief war in 1990 to secede from the Republic of Georgia. It now has held parliamentarian elections, much to the annoyance of the government of Georgia and the delight of the government of Russia which has been egging the Abkhazianerianites on because it has its own disagreements with Georgia.

Breakaway President Sergei Bagapsh, who seems to possess wizard-like powers since no one has shot him yet, said from the capital city of Sukhumki that elections being held in a state that has both an opposition party and a free press shows it’s a self-reliant republic and not under anyone else’s thumb.

No country recognises Abkhazia’s claims to independence but Foreign Minister Sergei Shamba, another breakaway official with nine lives, said, “Our objective is to show everyone that we meet modern European standards.”

Azkaban, of course, is not looking to break away from anyone. It just wants to avoid breakouts.

PAPAL PIFFLE IN PARAGUAY

Pope Benny apparently is quite selective in his readings.

He reads enough to quote something nasty a minor Turkish ruler in the Dark Ages said about Islam, but he apparently skipped something much more recent.

Tales of the many political ventures of Roman Catholic priests working in Central and South America in the late 20th Century were common, tales of many collar-wearers working with insurrectionists to throw off dictatorial regimes. The Vatican occasionally made some tut-tutting noises to put on a good show about separation of THE church and THOSE states, but the activities went on for decades.

Now comes word that Fernando Lugo, 55, who retired as a Roman Catholic bishop two years ago but still is known for his work among the poor, wishes to run in Paraguay’s presidential race next year and Pope Benny is all put out about it. Apparently, revolutionary activities are OK with the Vatican, but democratic ones are not.

Lugo, now Mr. instead of Bishop, says he has resigned from the priesthood two days after getting a no-no letter from the Vatican to lead a political alliance opposed to President Nicanor Duarte. Duarte’s Colorado Party has ruled Paraguay for about 60 years.

“In the name of Jesus Christ, I ask him to seriously reflect about his behaviour,” says the letter, signed by Cardinal Giovanni Battista Re on behalf of the Pope.

I suspect he already has.

HAUTE COUTERE, IRANIAN STYLE

Every so often, when we gather around the office water cooler to discuss the culture of the day (we are, you see, a very literate bunch), perception often is as big a topic as reality.

For example, working at a newspaper has given me the opportunity to field calls from readers questioning the modesty, or lack thereof, of an image we’ve published. The calls usually involve ads for underwear or strip clubs. The latter, I have found, usually are less revealing than the former. Curious stuff.

On the whole, such images really bother relatively few people. They pique the imagination more than they actually show anything to the eyes. Our history as a rather tolerant society makes that understandable. We’re not in a part of the world where arbiters of taste regularly help their neighbors avoid all that thinking and decision making by censoring words and images in advance of their sale.

Elsewhere, it’s a different story, particularly in the Middle East. Take a look at the Dior ad shown here. Note the black patches? They were inked onto the original image by censors in Iran before the publications carrying the ad and others of its ilk were allowed to be seen by the public.

In general, Western publications are heavily censored in Iran to cover up bare arms, knees or cleavage — of women. We presume men aren’t found similarly distasteful or tempting.

Go here for more examples of the hottest in Iranian fashion blocking.

VOICE OF CUBA STILL HIGH FIDEL-ITY

I was in the midst of reading a New Yorker piece on Fidel Castro this week when word came that the dictator was in bad shape after intestinal surgery. I now know more about his past few years and increasing health problems than I ever thought I’d know.

Castro is nearly 80. His kid brother, 75-year-old Raul Castro, is in charge of Cuba now. Only the good die young.

The curious thing is that no matter who is running the country today, Fidel still is the public figure even when he’s not visible to the masses. Raul, a publicly reticent man who is believed to be the stabilizing force in the government, has made no public appearance or statement since assuming power. Fidel, a man known for his rambling, rousing 7-hour speeches, supposedly signed off on his own PR statements after his surgery.

Fidel is amazingly upbeat about all facets of life on his economically-bereft, socially restless island. Maybe it’s the after-effects of the anesthesia. Maybe he just has low expectations. The dictator purportedly said:

“The important thing is that in the country everything is going perfectly well, and will continue to do so. … As for my spirits, I feel perfectly fine.”

The presence of police and army troops has been increased in areas where anti-government demonstrations might spring up, so it’s probably just a good day to go to the beach.

MAYBE THEY ALL LOOK ALIKE

That was the headline on a Dec. 16, 2005, entry here on another blog I used to write. It came to mind when it was announced that we’d smooshed Abu Musab al-Zarqawi with a couple of 500-pound bombs. (Even if they hadn’t gone off, I suspect the weight alone would have been enough to do him in.)

Given all the death and destruction that he directed since we let him slip through our fingers, I thought I’d repost that entry to underscore the point of what could have been. Here goes:

Not many revelations that come out of Iraq surprise me anymore. Atrocities, crimes, political malfeasance, stupid decisions … . On and on it goes.

But, I must admit the latest one is a doozie.

Abu Musab al-Zarqawi, the most wanted terrorist in Iraq, a man with a $25 million bounty on his head, a man whose picture is on wanted posters all over the country and whose picture and DNA information have been distributed to military and law enforcement personnel, was captured by police last year then released because no one recognized him.

Pause for WHATTTTTTTT!!!!!

Yep. Major Gen. Hussein Kamal, the Iraqi deputy interior minister, told reporters that Zarqawi, whose group, al-Qaeda in Iraq has claimed responsibility for many of the most devastating terror attacks, was detained for several hours in Falluja before being let go.

It’s bad enough that this happened, but it is only one of a series of close calls for
Zarqawi. American soldiers have said they just missed getting him at a checkpoint in western Iraq in February. In May, Iraqi Interior Minister Bayan Jabr said Zarqawi had been critically injured after a U.S. air raid on his hideout in Qaim, on the Syrian border. He was reported to have been treated at a hospital in Ramadi after the attack — then escaped 10 minutes before Iraqi and American forces arrived.

STOPPPPPPPPITTTTTTTT!!!!!

And, we finally did, although the death and destruction are going on unabated. Small steps. Small steps.