Joe Crookston: he’s got the music in him

Having pulled a muscle in my back last Thursday, I was in no mood. The strain and pain had really taken hold by Saturday, and I found myself hard pressed to leave the house. Naturally, I had planned to attend several functions, including a Facebook men’s club gathering at Benji & Jakes ( myspace.com/benjiandjakes ) in Kauneonga Lake.

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Airport (mis)adventure

We spend as long as possible at the house in St. Martin. I take a last dip in the pool and hang my bathing suit up in the bathroom to dry. I traveled lightly and pack quickly. The van arrives to take us to the airport. Reluctantly, I say goodbye to the house and get in.

We arrive at the airport early, and have two piņa coladas each after making it easily through customs. We are flying US Airways and when we get to our gate we find that it’s been changed.

At the new gate is a mob of people in multiple lines. It is total pandemonium with no one in charge. After one line, our passports are rechecked and after another everyone’s bags are hand searched and we are patted down before being allowed on the plane. It takes forever and is very frustrating but I stay calm.

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Where do we go from here?

The gas lies beneath us; lots of it. The gas companies will get it out because they have the power and money to do so, purchasing influence over our legislatures and the White House. And today’s economic reality makes it easier for the gas companies to obtain leases from homeowners struggling to make ends meet.

It is unconscionable that anyone must sign a lease, risking water, land and air contamination to keep their land. Small-scale dairies get less for their milk than it costs to produce it, while we bail out the crooks who perpetrated an international economic meltdown. The farmers are left to struggle under debt, give up or take a gas company’s check.

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