What to Believe

Ten Bears (Floyd "Red Crow" Westerman): [in Lakota; subtitled] It's easy to become confused by these questions. Before we take action we need to talk about this some more at another time. That is all I have to say. This council is dismissed. Dances with Wolves (1990).

We left for a cruise vacation on February 20th. When we arrived back in port on March 1st, the world had changed.

Most of us are not scientists or trained medical experts. One of my friends ticked off the prerequisites necessary to have an opinion about the Corona virus (or, COVID-19, or any of the other labels attached), mostly classes in microbiology, epidemiology or medicine. Me - I've taken a ton of law classes, so I guess that leaves me out.

Or, does it? Isn't it part of being a grown up, of seeing something happening to your neighborhood, your state, your country and trying to be informed? So...

I'm a fan of former Defense Secretary Donald Rumsfeld's notion that one begins an inquiry by asking: What are the known-knowns, the known-unknowns and the unknown-unknowns? It comes from a substantially technical decision-making model, which I looked up and decided to ignore. This is easier for me to understand.

So, what did we know we knew?

The first known cluster of cases in the US was in a nursing home in Washington State. The facility wasn't really ready for something like this, and it blew through like a freight train. Some early news reports (circa March 8) had 70% of the staff infected. They really didn't have the appropriate gear, or training, and people who got it went downhill fast. The demographic of a care facility seemed to speak for who the disease's most vulnerable victims would be - 80s and 90s, with something else wrong with them. But, holy crap it seemed to get out of control quickly.

Then, Italy happened. One day, it was business as usual. The next, there weren't enough ventilators or hospital bed space, people were being triaged like it was a battle zone (if you were over 60, you were basically on your own) and ten percent of the folks who tested positive died. The numbers were scary for how contagious and how dangerous it seemed to be.

About this time, a cruise ship called Diamond Princess came onto the radar. It had been at sea for a while, made port calls on the "Pacific Rim" and looked like a great place to run some numbers. People were relieved that "only" twenty-something percent of the folks tested positive - meaning they were actively infectious (the final number was about 19%). Except, not all of them were sick. Whuuuuut? Only about 1.5% of those who tested positive died, and most of them were fairly old. Wait...only?

Let's see. The CDC says that between three and twenty percent of people in the US get the flu-flu each season. That's crazy, right? Don't they know?

Of course not. How many of you loyal readers got sick, stayed home, felt horrible and then got over it without going to the doctor? So, the stats are elastic. But, we have the numbers from the cruise ship, they seem reasonably related to a higher-end flu season, so let's play with them.

There are (officially) about 330 million of us living in the US. So, applying the modest numbers available from the Princess cruise ship (mumble, mumble, mumble) - holy fuck! A million people are going to die. A million people!?

Running the Italy numbers - no, I don't think I will.

So, sick people should stay home, or go to the hospital, right? That way, we can slow down the spread of... But some people, especially kids, can be asymptomatic - a fancy way of saying they look fine, they feel fine and they are little roving germ-sickles. In fact (as my daughter, who works in the international health field, suggests) 25% of people who are contagious as hell don't even know it. That doesn't count (I know, right? Common sense?) those of us with seasonal allergies saying to each other "You don't think...?" with the answer being maybe yes.

But, come on. This is America. We'll do all that doctor shit, and everything will be fine. We'll do like...World War Two. Boeing will build ventilators. Isn't that what everyone is saying? Build us some ventilators, most riki tik!

Sure. To quote the irrepressible Mark Steyn, seven out of ten ventilator patients get "carried out by the handles." That number doesn't have to be precise to be spooky as hell.

But, we have more experience with this, right? Doesn't the CDC (or, somebody) gin up a vaccine (that half of us don't take, anyway) every year? Well, what are you waiting for? Treatment - yeah, that's the ticket. Didn't President Trump say something about...well, I can't pronounce it. Doesn't that work? Let's all take that!

Where does a person turn for advice? Medical people can't agree on anything, it seems. One doctor says we're all fucked, another says "It's like chicken pox. The sooner we all get it, the sooner it will go away. This 'flatten the curve' nonsense is just delaying the inevitable." A dude who is a constitutional scholar (which should be the first clue he's clueless) said "Five hundred deaths. Six, tops," about fifty thousand deaths ago - then had the balls to write a second column explaining why his numbers were wrong, but...not his fault. 

Whew. An anesthesiologist (colloquially called a gas-passer) says it's all good, we can come out, now...but, if you actually read his essay he cherry-picks the hell out of the known data. A "former" epidemiology professor (ask my PhD wife her opinion of pure academics) says "Point zero-one percent death rate, I feel." You feel? Another guy from Stanford, who sounds like he knows what he's talking about, says antibody tests suggest maybe 50 people have been exposed and have antibodies for every 1 who has tested positive. That's great news, right? Except - "The debate is raging about whether that means a person is immune if they are positive for antibodies."

Then there is the guy who is a suspense novelist who has made all of the interview shows criticizing the CDC for being wrong about the numbers. Hey... I'm a suspense novelist! How many of you would want my opinion. And I have a doctoral degree.

Okay, it's in law.

What are Pat and I doing? Minimizing our time in the social media swamp. Wearing masks, following the rules, keeping our distance. Spending money we really don't have supporting local businesses. Trying to apply common sense and some simple rules to a complex situation. Beginning with the premise of "Assume Positive Intent" when we look at our fallible government officials and holding them to the standard of reasonableness, not perfection and certainly not clairvoyance.

And, praying. That's right. This is the first one of these she and I have sat out after four decades of public service. But, our son is a police officer. Both of our daughters work in health care - one in a hospital. All of them have young children. We pray for their safety, and look forward to the day we can hug them again.

We pray for our friends, the ones not sitting this out. Cops, firefighters, doctors and nurses. We know what you are facing. It sucks. You are in our thoughts every waking moment.

When we go to the store, when we intercept the mailman, UPS, FedEx... "Thank you for being here, for keeping it all going."

And, we pray for humanity, both the verb and the noun. Maybe, just maybe, the lesson we learn is, like the passengers on Diamond Princess, we're stuck here on this beautiful planet, together. Maybe we should start acting like that matters.

Playing the Q Card

"There is danger that, if the Court does not temper its doctrinaire logic with a little practical wisdom, it will convert the constitutional Bill of Rights into a suicide pact." Justice Robert H. Jackson, dissenting, Terminiello v. City of Chicago (1949). 

"May you live in interesting times." An English expression purportedly (and probably incorrectly) attributed to a Chinese source.

A month ago, my Plus One and I were on the beach in San Juan. We were awaiting the arrival of the Norwegian Epic, a cruise ship upon which we would spend a week, with port calls in Aruba, Curacao, St. Lucia and St. Kitts. The weather was astonishingly beautiful, the water a variety of turquoise, dark blue and sea green, and the people mingling without a care in the world.

We visited Alambique, which styled itself a beach lounge, and discovered the Puerto Rican comfort food "mofongo," which defies description even as the ingredients are basic and readily available. We walked miles on the beach two blocks from our Airbnb, stopped for drinks and finger foods at the small bars dotting it. Several days later, it took us all of 13 minutes to get out of our Uber, walk into the terminal and be in our shipboard stateroom. The medical screening was perfunctory - had we been to China, had we felt sick lately?


That was then, before Wuhan was even in my vocabulary.

Our doctor has recommended staying home, being careful. We are both in high-risk demographics - I thought it would take longer to become this old - and getting the virus might mean we'd "be outta there" to quote an Air Force pilot friend. So, here we are.

Access to social media has meant:

1. We are not lonely.
2. We are bombarded with the insightful, the inane and everything in between. 

So, let me offer my take as a retired first responder, a leader and a scholar - 

My doctorate is in law, not medicine and particularly not in epidemiology. I can tell you what the legal landscape looks like, and what will probably be the issues in the lawsuits to follow. I have no idea about medicine. The only way for me to judge the wisdom of steps being taken to address the global pandemic is in hindsight. But, it is roughly analogous to the following story.

A young pregnant woman (our youngest daughter), in the throes of HELLP syndrome and the fog of the magnesium drip used to treat life-threatening high blood pressure, was witness to an extraordinary argument. Her OBYwan and her child's pediatrician, standing nose to nose, were arguing about which patient was going to be walked to the doorstep of death so that both had the best chance of surviving. One, or both, might not make it. Neither doc was sure, but it was what years of study, and decades of practice, told them was the right thing to do.

Medical experts - including our family doc who has guarded our health for twenty-five years - say that this is the big one. This could kill upwards of 400,000 Americans left to run its course, without intervention. Economists warn that draconian (possibly illegal, and unnecessary) social measures could push the country into depression, with millions suddenly unemployed.

I'm an educated person, but I don't know who is right. I know what the governments of the US, and Colorado, have suggested, or imposed. I think very smart people who have a lot more information than me are doing what they think is the right thing.

I wish Pat and I were back on that beach in San Juan. I wish the virus was not now stalking our world.

Serious people are making real-world decisions in good faith. As Dan Bongino has repeatedly said - report cards will come later. Right now? We do what we've been asked to do, support each other as best we can and remember what Churchill said:

     “We have not journeyed all this way across the centuries, across the oceans, across the mountains, across the prairies, because we are made of sugar candy.”

Just so you know--

Graham's 9...and a ham, just like his little sister.

Home Alone

Technology is a huge pain in the ass.

There, I said it. Our modern ability to do nearly anything with technology belies the complexity that accomplishment imposes. "Alexa, turn on the master bedroom light." A voice - "OK." The light goes on. Amazing. I didn't have to walk across a small room in our small house and actually turn a switch.

But, okay maybe that's a bad example. We have an alarm system which... Come to think of it, illustrates what this blog is actually all about.

One of our porties - I'm not naming any names - freaks out whenever she (oops, there I go) hears a beeping sound. Low battery in the smoke detector, disarming the alarm system, autopilot disengaged warning on a YouTube video... Funny, she doesn't mind the microwave when we're nuking her dinner.

So we take every precaution to make sure nothing beeps. She's older, so we lift her up in bed even though there is a step stool. Yeah, we care about our dogs. And, cat. We care about our cat, too.

Where am I going with this? We travel. We like to take a couple trips a year away from home - sometimes many more. We don't always take the dogs. In point of fact we don't often take the dogs. Much as our household is pet-centric I'm not sure how well Jed would do at a resort in Mexico crawling with lizards, monkeys peering in the balcony slider.

So, over the years we've left them in a variety of situations. Friends and family, sometimes (which the dogs prefer). Commercial kennels other times. They've always been well cared for, reluctant to be dropped off, happy to be picked up. Well, ecstatic to be picked up is more like it. Never the worse for wear, though.

And then, the dreaded remotely-monitored TV.

A friend suggested a new kennel, it was fantastic during the walk through - everything we wanted. They were wonderful people, the place was clean... We'd found the perfect place for our male.

Then, we got to watch him in his kennel. Lonely, penned up. Wagging his tail intently whenever someone walked by, crestfallen when they didn't do loves all over him. He wasn't special, he wasn't cherished.

Nothing about this place was any different than the fifteen other kennels our dogs have stayed in over the years. In fact, it was nicer than most. It was just...the first time we'd gotten to see our dog in a kennel pen. When our friend and family network was unavailable for our February trip, we looked for alternatives.

So we interviewed Cassidy, whom we found on line. She runs a house sitting service - Housewolf Petcare LLC. She comes to the house in the early evening and gives the dogs dinner. Stays overnight. Feeds them in the morning. We called our favorite dog walkers (Dog Walking Pals) to resume the noon walks we'd done for five years while Jim had a (for the most part) office job. Lined up the food at home, lined up the treats...

We got daily pictures from both Cassidy and the various dog walkers. The kids were happy, the kids were comfortable at home. They could be themselves (to the point, Cassidy remarked, that some of their bad-dog habits manifested themselves).

And we could relax. In several foreign countries. On a cruise. During the corona virus outbreak.

At least the dogs...and cat. Can't forget the cat. At least the dogs and cat were comfortable and happy. When we got home they stared at us.

"Oh, you're back." And, they returned to bed.

Obviously, Cassidy took excellent care of them. They were home and comfortable. Their routine was hardly disturbed at all. So, when we set up a trip to the DR this fall...

Housewolf Petcare

An Unconscionable Loss of Focus

Danny Ocean (George Clooney): "I know a guy. We were in the joint together. Anybody pulls any job in the Western U.S., he knows about it. Give me a few hours, I'll find out who took your money."

Terry Benedict (Andy Garcia): (sardonically) "You know a guy."

Oceans Eleven (2001).

I haven't had much of a chance to write recently... Well, not blogs, or Web site material. Very little on "Karen Three" (although the plot line is smoothing out nicely). I have written quite a bit to Medicare, to the company that has all of my pension money and Delta Dental. So, I am a little rusty when it comes to blogging. Bear with me.

Indignation. Embarrassment. Shame.

That's what I feel about the latest "gate" fiasco. It involves a law enforcement organization that I admire, with whom I've worked closely on several cases and that, day to day, does the grunt work of keeping America and Americans safe from very real dangers arising all over the world. Which is why the Trump Campaign/Russia Collusion investigation and subsequently disclosed outrages are all the more unfathomable. And, predictable.

One of the most attractive ethical violations to which law enforcement officers indulge is the "I know he's guilty" mindset. We are taught to enter each situation with an open mind and follow the evidence wherever it leads. If it leads nowhere, maybe there is no "there" there. Maybe we haven't worked hard enough. Maybe the evidence isn't available to us, or its true character cannot yet be discerned.

Time and again, cops fall victim to their own biases. "This guy is dirty," they will say. "I'm just having a hard time proving it."

Fair enough, sometimes the guy is dirty. But, one of the things we are taught not to do - specifically, repeatedly, emphatically - taught not to do is assume someone is guilty and then work only to reinforce our initial, often emotional, conclusion. It is an article of faith that ignoring the absence of evidence, or worse, hiding evidence proving someone is innocent, is unethical conduct. The chance that an objectively just conclusion will be reached by manipulating facts is sheer happenstance. Often, it results in framing the wrong person.

The available research into "Russia-gate," the investigation of possible collusion between the Trump Campaign/Administration and the Russian government grows larger every day. There have been hearings, investigations, special prosecutors, inspectors general... Books, interviews, testimony. The conclusions one draws about a very complicated situation will often be a matter of perspective. One thing is clear - and many of the players have already admitted to it.

Members of the FBI applied for eavesdropping warrants with the FISA court using information they knew was suspect. In effect, they misrepresented facts in a way to induce a judge to issue court orders. Those orders allowed them to examine the records of an individual associated with the Trump campaign. Because of the "two step rule" agents could examine the records of anyone this person communicated with, and the records of individuals with whom those people communicated.

Those are facts to which the FBI admits. The unanswered question is - WTF?

Okay, the actual question is why. The answer is hinted at by former Director James Comey in his book, and during interviews subsequent to his firing. It is hinted at by well-meaning people who reveal their biases as a means of rationalizing conclusions. It has been the subject of discussion by people with first-hand knowledge of how the world of federal prosecutions works, by members of Congress who undertook (at great personal cost) examinations of facts and by people adept at piecing together chains of events to draw coherent story lines.

They knew a guy.

Specifically, they knew a guy who just knew Orange Man Bad. Hell, I knew a guy, a professor at Syracuse. Some of them know Donald Trump, and don't like him...or, worse. It wasn't a question of corruption - that was a given. It was a question of building the case, collecting the evidence and proving that the Russians interfered with the 2016 election at the behest of Candidate Trump. If shading the truth, and bending the rules got the job done, then the methods would be worth it. Everyone knew what they would find.

He had to be stopped.

That conduct is, in a word, reprehensible.

This was a leadership failure of the most monumental sort. That it happened is irrefutable. What happens now?

The men and women who make up the soul of the FBI - case agents, analyists, operators - must demand accountability of their leadership. They must "lead up," and remind each other on an ongoing basis that the FBI exists to follow the facts in an ethical manner, regardless of who the object is. They must regard everyone as worthy of the utmost in constitutionally-protected rights. 

It isn't enough to "know a guy" whose opinion is that someone is crooked. 

Boosting Karen

“Man invented language to satisfy his deep need to complain.” » Lily Tomlin

One of the things I was cautioned against, in my pre-retirement prep, was "surfing the net." This was identified by my SME as a "waste of time" and "you will never fix stupid." Aha! It's not a waste of time if I get a blog out of it, and can suggest you buy one of my novels.

There is a continuing saga of memes politely called "Shut up, Carl," or sometimes "Shut the f*ck up, Carl." By the situations in which Carl has made some pronouncement, only to be shouted down by someone else, Carl is not the brightest bulb in the string.

One often finds Carl inadvertently firing a rocket ("Hey, what does this button do?"), at the range ("Pew, Pew") or as a RIO in an F-14 ("Highway to the danger zone..."). One need not see too many of these to draw the conclusion - if someone calls you "Carl" and your name is...I dunno...Jim, that's not a compliment.

Fast forward to yesterday. Looking for blogging material, or mindlessly surfing the net (take your pick) I came across a site that specializes in cop humor, cleverly titled "Cop Humor." As one can imagine, the jokes are a bit edgy. We... Well, I guess now it's they, employ remarkably dark humor to maintain something of an even keel in difficult situations.

Which brings me to the point...finally. There is apparently a branch of "STFU Carl" that features "Karen" as some kind of prototypical annoying female. Go ahead, Google it. I'll still be here when you get back.

Hello, again. The meme I posted here certainly is subject to interpretation. One is the call we've all been on where "Karen" can actually be almost anyone, including "Ken." They called for the police to solve a problem of Karen/Ken's own making and are aghast that the officers do not immediately implement their suggested solution.

The other - I'm sort of wondering here if Karen is a co-worker, or supervisor. Those of you who know me, or have read my stuff, know that I count among my best friends and most trusted colleagues a number of women police officers - street cops, detectives, supervisors. We've worked together on SWAT, bike patrol, on complex investigations and in critical situations where their excellent judgment and decision making kept everyone safe. I've put my life in the hands of women cops, and recently retired in one piece.

And then, there is Karen Sorenson. Anyone who's read Out of Ideas or The Heart of the Matter knows Karen - bright, athletic, tough and talented. She's the kind of police officer I loved working with because I wrote her that way. Her character is derived from real-life people - women I've watched close up, and from afar. From a reviewer:

 In addition to all of the above, James A. Greer gives readers insight into the soul of a female law enforcer and by so doing enlightens us on the trials and tribulations of real-life females who devote themselves to protecting us.

So, folks. Every time you see a Karen meme - it's telling you subliminally "Buy a Karen book!" by clicking on the above links. It's all good.

Trust me on that.

Princess Pat, Duchess of Doctorals

"I never see any home cooking - all I get is fancy stuff."

Prince Philip

Apparently, there is a full time vacancy in the Royal Family for a gadabout couple, the present occupants of the role having given notice. You know, the job of man and woman who dress well, behave impeccably and say "Quite so" a lot. They are trotted out for garden openings - "The Westminster Peony Club would like to welcome the Duke and Duchess..." - given prominent seats at gala events of state and have their own box at Lord's, the birthplace of cricket. It seems safe enough, the IRA having been bought off some time ago.

We already have purebred dogs who consider themselves royalty. The cat... Try to put a bow in Gilda's hair and you may get most of the skin taken off your forearm. She may need some lessons.

We have friends there!! We could get lessons in not being such a...I dunno...a Yank!

Meeting prominent individuals, touring the world with adoring fans flocking ever amicably. Soirées to the countryside aboard well-bred, expensively trained steeds... Rubbing shoulders with the rich and famous while sipping only the finest vintages, the best seats in the house at the opera and symphony. Oh my God, the London Symphony!

There is the complication of not being born into the Royal Family, but my Dad's mom was English (from London, I think) and I was rooting for England all along during the ODI Cricket World Cup last year. There's gotta be some kind of form I'd need to sign, or some waiver I would have to get from the Queen.

Seriously. Keep my mouth shut while Pat and I trot to and fro, drinking tea, eating crumpets and hobnob with a lot of stuffy people?

Quite so.

The Cliffs at Etretat

Danny Ocean (George Clooney): And I always confuse Monet and Manet. Now, which one married his mistress?
Tess Ocean (Julia Roberts): Monet.
Danny: Right, and then Manet had syphilis.
Tess: They also painted occasionally.

What to do, what to do? Retirement, week one and a half.

We decided to visit the Monet Exhibit at the Denver Art Museum. We... It was Pat's idea, actually, something about which she was quite enthused. It had drawn excellent reviews. Friends had raved about it. Mid-week, mid-day. Beat the crowds, take our time. 

Of course, why not. What could it hurt, staring at paintings of... He's an impersonator, right?

Her: Impressionist, dear.
Me: Oh.

So, off we went. Since I had no pre-conceived notions of what it would be like, there was no reason to think I'd be disappointed. 

It was fabulous!

The groups embark in fifteen minute intervals, spacing them out just enough. Before entering the exhibit a worker distributes a hand-held self-guided tour. At well-marked points along the way the guest is invited to punch in a number - some for adults and some for kids - that offered information, set the scene for the scenes and gave biographical information, historical contexts and commentary by local experts in geology, botany and painting.

It was fascinating, to view how Monet's gift expressed itself. His painting evolved continually, he toured Europe and along the way tried to capture the essence of what he was seeing. Far from pictures that are virtual photographs, he gives the viewer his...IMPRESSION! That's it.

Drawing up as close as the wary security folks would allow, it was amazing to see brush strokes - a bit of red, some white, a long streak of blue - it was a woman walking the streets of Paris! Parallel green strokes with a broad brush - waves! One painting, the famous water lily scene, changed dimensions the closer one got.

It was breathtaking. A geologist commenting on my little speaker thing said "Etreta's cliffs are white! Yet here we are, the colors representing how the clouds, the air...light...can give them unimaginable hues."

Monet wasn't painting a picture, he was painting feelings, aromas, the ever changing nature of the passage of time. It was almost like he was putting you right there, without beating you over the head with the experience, and letting you imagine it for yourself.

Like a writer might.

My wife is a genius.