I Modestly Propose That You Read This

The fabulous Jon Swift has compiled his annual Best Blog Posts of 2008, which is a holiday cornucopia of wit, wailing, and wisdom submitted by the bloggers themselves. Dear Readers, there is so much good stuff there, you might as well set aside some time, make yourself an extra-large coffee with lots of cream and sugar (you're giving all that up tomorrow, right?) and settle in with a cuddly kitteh or two.

(Speaking of cuddly kittehs, Jon has scattered various spot-on lolcats throughout the long, long post. I'd better hurry up and finish this post--if Son Three sees this, he's going to want to sit on my lap and spend the next hour scrolling through I Can Has Cheezburger, and there goes the morning.)

For my part, I submitted a short (one sentence!) post, entitled To Those Who Muse About "Spreading Democracy" on This Day of Fidel Castro's Retirement that I wrote for litbrit back in February (it includes a Pablo Neruda poem). Unbeknown to me at the time, Mr. Swift had linked to that very post in a piece that he wrote, shortly thereafter, about the ridiculous embargo on Cuba. Weird, but unsurprising, given how many similar "weird" things happen when like minds join forces in the ether and...oh, hell, I can't do self-promotion without sounding like a complete New Age ass, so just go and peruse Swift's Hall of Awesomeness, okay?

(P.S. Thank you for taking on this enormous task, Jon; cheers and kisses to you, as always, for promoting us little guys.)

And Sir C, I swiped this one for you, though I'm sincerely hoping it's not one of your '09 resolutions :

Catblogging: Here Comes Marley Claws

They dressed me up like this. And this isn't my coat--it's a false one.

We all love a figgy pudding--or at least, a pudding-shaped cat--so bring us one now.

Merry, merry everyone!

XXX
Deborah

The Rational Actor's Libertarian Fête

[In light of recent disasters stemming from under-regulation and deregulation of various market sectors--the obvious Big Disaster as well as things like Spontaneous Combustion Snow Globes and Renal Failure Seafood--I thought it would be appropriate to re-post this poem I wrote for Ezra's blog and mine last Christmas. Commenter Andrew, responding to a contentious free-market cultist, said it well:

"Pity the poor libertarian. C. Ronnie Capitalist wears his clothes during the day. When the kitchen lights are out, the lobbying and no-bid contracts make scurrying little noises. You can hear them if you listen. Those aren't libertarians."]

The Phantom slowly, gravely, silently approached.
-- from A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens

The Rational Actor's Libertarian Fête

Come now, the ever-bitterer winter wind
Reminding one and all what season nears,
And with it come the needs and wants of friends;
The plight--the suffering!--told of distant spheres.
Ah, what is there to do but shake one's head
And wonder at the choices people make?
They knew what they were doing. He made his bed.
Some people want to live life on the take.
I suffered; there were sacrifices made.
The roads I chose have led me to this place,
And all my efforts now will be repaid;
My just deserts spread forth before my face.
Let this be, then, the year we celebrate
At the Rational Actor's Libertarian Fête!

Come in, have drinks; we've everything to please--
Our own self-interest, you'll be glad to know,
Means cocktails that are light on antifreeze
And bread with just the faintest melamine glow.
We're reasonably sure the Champagne flute
Won't leach a cloud of lead into each bubble--
Or Christmas-colored plastic cups might suit?
No need to thank the Chinese for their trouble.
It's quite a spread, when all is said and done:
There's corn--and beans--with tortured DNA;
The Monkfish, I am told, will surely stun;
There's penicillin in the shrimp souffle.
It's doubtful that the roasted pig will kill you;
Though, even then, the hospital will bill you.

Come now, the ever-bitterer winter wind,
Reminding one and all that all are one;
And so the needs and wants of nearby friends,
And suffering humans under a distant sun,
Become our needs and wants--it's all-impacting.
Each dollar saved becomes a lead-laced train
That sickens those too young for Rational Acting.
Each weakened law begets a poisoned grain.
And so the guests of honor at their Fête
May find their appetites are somewhat numb;
They'll hope the howling coming from the gate
Is not The Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come,
His corrupted chains of debt stretched through the air,
Borne by toxic winds of laissez-faire.

D.N.T. 11/25/07

Friday Frank: A Zappadan Catch-up Post

Wow, what a week. Okay, make that month. Methinks it's high time I posted some fabulous Frank to cap off Zappadan and kick off the pre-Christmas weekend. [ I should point out that as with much of FZ's music, the lyrics might not be especially, er, work-safe--unless, of course, your co-workers and boss are Zappaphiles too.]

Let's travel back in time, then, to 1968, and visit the Royal Festival Hall, where Frank Zappa, the Mothers, and various orchestra members are performing a neoclassical piece entitled This Town is a Sealed Tuna Sandwich, which would later be featured in the film 200 Motels.



Guitar-heads will enjoy the solo in this one, Outside Now, performed in Paris in 1980:



And finally, here's our hero playing Florentine Pogen in L.A. back in 1974:



Bon Weekend, Happy Festivus, and Merry Zappadan everyone!

Minstrel Boy on Jeopardy Today!

Set your Tivo's and DVR's, since Minstrel Boy of Group News Blog and Harp and Sword is appearing on Jeopardy today (check your local listings).

"I'll take brilliant, irreverent, truffle-making, multiple-language-speaking, massive-amounts-of-history-knowing, more-instruments-than-I've-had-hot-dinners-playing, Vietnam Veteran Irish-Apache Gentlemen and Scholars for a thousand, Alex...".

Go MB!

FridaySaturday Frank: Watermelon in Easter Hay; Barcelona, 1988

I remember reading somewhere that this was one of FZ's favorite pieces (or was it Peaches en Regalia? Hmmm...). Anyway, Watermelon is gorgeous, meditative music that's hard to categorize--so why bother? I'll simply think of it as more beauty and brilliance from an American genius.

Happy Zappadan, everyone!

Today in Very Timely Songs: David Bowie & Gail Ann Dorsey Perform Under Pressure

Two music gods on one stage. Enjoy.

"...It's the terror of knowing
What this world is about
Watching some good friends
Screaming 'Let me out!'
Pray tomorrow takes me higher
People people on streets
Turned away from it all
Like a blind man
Sat on fence but it don't work
Keep coming up with love
But it's so slashed and torn
Why, why, why?
Love, love, love, love.

Insanity laughs under pressure we're cracking
Can't we give ourselves one more chance?
Why can't we give love one more chance?
Why can't we give love, give love, give love,
Give love, give love, give love, give love, give love...

'Cause love's such an old fashioned word
And love dares you to care
For people on the edge of the night
And love dares you to change our way
Of caring about ourselves
This is our last dance
This is our last dance
This is ourselves under pressure..."

Marriage Equality Rocks!

Via TRex, with whom I was speaking this morning and to whom I said, You know, I love it that our side can fight all this ignorance and bigotry with creative brilliance and joy.

"It's the only way to win, baby," he replied.

(By the way, I'm totally adding Jack Black to my list of Super Best Friends.)

FridaySunday Frank: The Teheran Symphony Orchestra Rehearsing Dog Breath Variations + More Frank Love In Honor of Zappadan

Maestro Zappa's music may not yet be widely-known in these parts--certainly the vast majority of it never hit America's commercial airwaves, save a handful of humor songs--but in Europe, Scandinavia, South America, and even the Middle East, fans and musicians alike listen to, and are inspired by, Zappa's rock, blues, jazz, fusion, and neoclassical compositions.

Tribute bands abound in Finland and the Czech Republic, and some of the world's most talented musicians continue to study and perform challenging classical pieces like Dog Breath Variations (as above, in which video members of the Teheran Symphony Orchestra tackle the complex piece) and Outrage at Valdez.

I'll be posting a goodly amount of Frank Zappa material this month, in honor of Zappadan--December 4-21--when "all our blogs belong to Zappa". (As if I needed an excuse!) Info here:



Finally, here's a double dose (so to speak) of FZ wit: Joe's Garage followed by Why Does it Hurt When I Pee?



Happy Sunday, all.

Simplisitc Drug Testing Kits Yield False Results and Wrongful Arrests

Quod me nutrit me destruit*, indeed.

So, what's in your wallet (or handbag or toiletry kit)? If you're traveling out of the country any time soon--hell, if you're simply driving around in this one--you'd be wise to rid your bags and carryalls of any organic chocolate bars, natural soaps, and health-food-store deodorants. Read this, be horrified, and for goodness' sake, be careful:

For Nadine Artemis and Ron Obadia, August began with plans for a family vacation in Minnesota. The vacation ended with the two Canadian citizens being led through Toronto's airport in handcuffs, locked up and separated from their baby.

"We were dumbfounded," Artemis says. Police told them they could be facing years in prison for exporting narcotics, because 2.5 pounds of material found in their carry-on bag tested positive for hashish. "All we knew was that we didn't have drugs."

They were telling the truth. They didn't have drugs. They had chocolate.

The couple were caught up in what civil libertarians, public defenders and some narcotics experts say is a growing problem: the use of unreliable field drug-test kits as the basis to arrest innocent people on illegal drug charges.

The inexpensive test kits are used by virtually every police department in the country and by federal agents, including Customs officers at the nation's borders. The kits test suspicious materials, and a positive result generally leads to an arrest and court date, pending more sophisticated tests done after the sample is sent to a lab.

The kits use powerful acids that react with the substance in a plastic pouch. If the liquid turns a certain color, it is a considered a positive result. But a number of legal products and plants test positive: chocolate for hashish; rosemary for marijuana; and natural soaps for the "date-rape drug" GHB.

"The tests have no validity," says former FBI narcotics investigator Frederick Whitehurst. And as more organic products come on the market, "the potential for civil rights violations when these presumptive tests are out there is phenomenal."

Although police have been using the field test kits for decades, "there's no regulation, no oversight that these drug tests perform in any way," says Dr. Bronner's Magic Soaps President David Bronner, whose products have tested positive for GHB.

With the growth of organic and natural foods and products, experts say arrests may increase.

"We are alarmed by the growing number of people who have been taken to jail for simply possessing organic products," says Ronnie Cummins, director of the Organic Consumers Association.

On Aug. 29, Artemis and Obadia, founders of Living Libations, a company that makes organic and natural food and beauty products in Haliburton, Ontario, were cleared of the charges when lab tests showed they were simply transporting chocolate. [...]

So far, the couple's legal bills have topped $20,000, covered in part by Bronner's company.

As you can see, I'm not joking about the need to be careful. As someone who routinely carries (at least) a bar or two of organic dark chocolate in her handbag--more if I'm flying, in case I need to share it with cranky people during inevitable delayed-on-the-runway scenarios--and furthermore, who has Dr. Bronner's Peppermint Soap in her shower and her travel toiletry kit, let me tell you, this story sent chills down my spine.

No, we shouldn't have to modify our own normal and perfectly legal behavior in order to avoid being falsely accused and expensively imprisoned--this is America, yes? The fault for these outrageous miscarriages of justice lies clearly in the laps of the test-kits' manufacturer(s), as well as those law enforcement and customs personnel who awarded them the lucrative government contracts to make the kits. Kits that don't test for a specific substance, by the way, but rather, just identify a general classification to which a substance belongs.

Poppy-seeds fallen from your morning bagel, or evidence of something more sinister? The test kit will err on the side of un-Constitutional.

On the other hand, I'm certainly not willing to risk being thrown in jail and separated from my sons--and then forced to spend a fortune on legal help to prove my innocence--simply because I love chocolate (which I do, very much) or because I like the wake-me-up scent of mint in my bath products.

Allen Miller of Forensic Source, which makes kits, says they find "families of chemical compounds" and are not meant to be definitive. Any arrest should be the result of good investigative police work, Miller says.

But Adam Wolf of the ACLU says "police officers and drug-test companies should not subject our constitutional rights to a game of chance."

*What nourishes me kills me.

If We Took All the Bones Out, It Wouldn't Be Crunchy!

Ah, the Whizzo Chocolate Assortment sketch--one of my favorite food-related Python bits. I almost posted the vomiting-and-exploding gourmand scene from The Meaning of Life, but thought better of it when Sons Two and Three ran from the room shrieking Ewwwwwww. Hey, we're a pretty tough-tummied crowd around here, but even so, that sketch hit a little too close to home, shall we say, on a feasting day like today. And I wouldn't want to be responsible for dampening anyone's appetite.

Crunchy frog it is, then.

And as for me, I'm thankful for the mushroom shepherd's pie--with no lark's vomit and no anthrax--that I'll be making this afternoon; for the crisp, holiday-appropriate temperatures despite the brilliant sun pouring down on the garden where the boys are shooting hoops right now; and for family and friends far and near, there and here. I hope you all enjoy a peaceful, warm, and delicious day, too.

Happy Thanksgiving from my family to you and yours,

Deborah

Cruelty and Liberal-bashing, Each and Every Day of the Year!

Oh dear. Thirtysomething pom-pom girl and granite-countertop-detector Michelle Malkin, along with several other *OXYMORON ALERT* beautiful conservative women (I left out the word narcissistic so as to avoid piling a redundancy on top of the oxymoron) have troweled on a few pounds of pancake and lipstick and draped themselves in tens of thousands of dollars worth of dead rodent mustelid skins in order to pose for a calendar called Pretty in Mink.

Of course, the majority of Madame's commenters are taking this as their cue to spout off (so to speak) about the unparalleled hotness of the Mses. Malkin, Coulter, and Carpenter etc., and--amusingly--to drone on and on about how "horribly ugly", "unfeminine", and "hairy" we liberal women are.

At the risk of stating the obvious, methinks these basement-dwellers really need to get out more.

Sigh. This sort of stuff almost makes me want to put together a calendar of our own, considering how many beautiful liberal women I know personally, as well as how many famous beautiful liberal women there are out there--I mean, Scarlett, Angelina, etc. etc....whom are these people kidding? (Yeah, I know.)

Being a lefty, though, I can't help but remind myself that so doing would be terribly unfair. Because even without the assistance of a Vaselined lens and heavy-duty beauty lighting, women--and for that matter, men--who care about things like housing the homeless, feeding the hungry, promoting social justice, protecting the environment, ensuring equal rights and freedoms for all--for starters--are possessed of a certain incandescent beauty *SENTIMENTALITY ALERT* that shines from within. This is something that can't be artificially recreated in an individual whose identity is so deeply invested in things like championing pre-emptive war; fanning the flames of (and forever reigniting) anti-immigration sentiment; approving of and even joking about government-sanctioned torture; ignoring (tacitly approving?) the erosion of the middle class via Bushian deregulation, disproportionate taxation, and state-approved polarization of wealth; and calling for the curtailment of rights of whichever class of people he or she deems unworthy of said rights--up to and including the internment of innocent American citizens not charged with any crime.

Ugly is as ugly does. And insofar as I'm aware, no-one has invented a lens, filter, or Photoshop trick that works on the soul.

FridaySaturday Frank: Penguin in Bondage; Italian TV, 1972

As I've said before, I think this particular FZ lineup is my all-time-favorite, mainly due to my fondness for Ponty's violin riffs.

Yikes, what a week. First, I was treated to a cable news loop of the governor of Alaska "pardoning" a turkey and then holding soundbite court in front of an active turkey guillotine manned by a rubber-gloved executioner, the whole scene made surreal and cringe-inducingly funny by what are surely the best breaking news subtitles ever; mad props to whichever dry-witted, animal-loving MSNBC geek(s) put those together.

Next, to my (guilty) dismay, I learned the boys are going to be In The House--while Mama goes Out The Mind--for the next ten days. Hey, whatever happened to the old four-day Thanksgiving thing? When I was your age...

And then, it got really, really cold in Florida. No seriously--low-forties-Fahrenheit-cold. And while I'd normally be all excited about the rare opportunity to dive into the vintage sweater stockpile that's been thirty years in the making--and maybe even debuting the awesome boots I bought two years ago while having one of my fits of tropics-denying (note to self: talk R into taking me out tonight, preferably someplace where said boots will be appreciated)--this year, I'm feeling the chill as never before. Especially in my poor hands and feet. Brrr.

AND as long as I'm whining: here we are in 2008, with change heading to Washington and stores putting tracking devices on my chocolate bars, and still (still!) no winter-wear company is making modern-cut long underwear for low-slung jeans--no, all you can find, online and off, is pair after billowing pair of elasticated, high-waisted "Mom jeans"-style long johns (When you've given up giving it up...Mom Jeans!) in which--and honestly, I cannot repeat this often enough--I would not be caught dead. Hey, clothing makers: there's a huge number of blue-toed, shivering and skinny post-Boomer women out here having cold flashes as we hit our forties. Fancy making quick sales and long-term customers? Then design some low-waisted, close-fitting long johns that I can wear under jeans on days like today without looking like, well, like a penguin in bondage.

Off with me to the grocery store, then. I have a feeling they won't have run out of Tofurkey just yet; Thermacare handwarmers are another story.

Bon Weekend, everyone!

Dear President-Elect Obama: Please Support Organic Food and Farming

Joan Miró

The Vegetable Garden with Donkey

Members of the Organic Consumers Association are writing to President-Elect Barack Obama--go here to add your signature--and setting forth recommendations for policy and personal initiatives aimed at creating "a healthy, sustainable, just, and organic future" for America.

President-Elect Obama is in the process of formulating policy, assembling his transition team, and considering nominees for Secretary of Agriculture, among other important positions. The Secretary of Agriculture is responsible for directing the U.S. Department of Agriculture and its $90 billion annual budget, including the National Organic Program, food stamp and nutrition programs, and agriculture subsidies. Obama throughout his campaign, and since his election, has stressed that he wants to hear from the public in order to formulate his policies. Let’s all take him up on this invitation. [...]

[Excerpted from the letter:]

1. Plant a working “Organic Victory Garden” on the South Lawn of the White House, to symbolize your commitment to locally-based, solar-based organic agriculture, with surplus food going to local food shelves.

2. Hire a well-known organic chef, such as Nora Pouillon or Alice Waters, to prepare healthy organic meals for the White House and staff, including vegetables and herbs from the White House Organic Victory Garden.

3. Increase food stamp benefits so low-income Americans can afford high quality organic foods. One way to do this would be to double the value of food stamp debit cards for fresh food purchased from farmers markets.

4. Restore consumers’ right to know by publicly supporting mandatory labeling of Genetically Engineered foods, with regulations similar to those now in place in Europe, Japan, and other nations.

5. Expand incentives for small and mid-sized organic farms and for farmers and ranchers who wish to make the transition to organic. The organic sector currently represents at least three percent of our current food purchases, therefore it deserves at least three percent of USDA program funds and incentives.

6. Appoint Michael Pollan, or another well-known advocate for organic agriculture and the relocalization of our food and farming system, as the new Secretary of Agriculture.

7. Provide funds and incentives for urban food access programs that connect organic farms with urban retail stores, providing fresh produce and vegetables for America’s inner-cities.

8. [Redirect the existing multi-billion dollar crop subsidy system away from commodities and biofuels and instead towards energy-efficient, greenhouse gas sequestering organic crops, especially fruits and vegetables.]

9. Strictly regulate factory farms, Confined Animal Feeding Operations (CAFO), to sharply reduce or eliminate their damage to the environment and public health.

10. Fast-track the Employee Free Choice Act to assure that farm labor and other workers are guaranteed the right to form a union at their place of employment.

I can't add a thing--these are, quite simply, excellent recommendations. I'm sure you'll agree: sign here. (Thanks!)

Making Progress Making Things

Things won are done;
joy's soul lies in the doing.
--William Shakespeare

So how are we all this week, after having clung for dear life to nonexistent safety bars and taken a seemingly never-ending ride on the E-ticket Presidential Rollercoaster in the extravagantly overwrought amusement park that is American Politics? (Baby-boomer Brownie points to those who know what E-ticket means; more kudos still to those who also use the term brownie points--ha!)

I imagine that my own emotions today--a mere week since I sat in the local Obama office, biting my nails and making last-minute reminder calls--are not all that different from those of anyone else who worried, watched, and wept last Tuesday.

Joy.

Relief.

A tiny bit of disbelief, given all that we've witnessed in elections past (especially in Florida).

Intense pride, given all the racist blather I'd seen, heard, and read these past two years, that America had elected a brilliant man to its highest office, based on the content of his character instead of the color of his skin.

A need to e-mail or call every single person to whom I've ranted about W et. al. over the past eight years and say something articulate and deeply intellectual like Woo-hoo! AIEEEE! Can you believe it? Oh my God, can you believe it? YEAH! YES WE CAN!

And this: a profound sense of disconnectedness mixed with the certainty that I must now get down to the business of creating things. While reflecting on my obsessive politics-following habits, I realized how little else I've written about, how little else I've created. There is a rack of vintage dresses that need altering or re-working, but for years I've been less than inspired, shall we say. There is an entire novel outline sitting on my hard-drive; there are several new-but-unopened recipe books piled up in the kitchen; there are literally hundreds of note-cards--each of which is inscribed with an idea (and sometimes several ideas) for poems, stories, and designs--lying in and around my desk.

Good grief, I must get busy. Where the hell have I been? Okay, other than the laundry room, I mean. And the car. And the pediatrician's office. And the grocery store. And, of course, the computer and the MSNBC.

President-elect Obama says we must once again become a nation that makes things. And since I'm not an engineer, an architect, or an automobile designer, I'm going to interpret the word "make" as create, and the word "things" as meaning not only energy efficient cars and buildings, but also literature, art, and music.

So, then, inspiration trumps relief, burnout, exhaustion, disbelief, and even euphoria (hey, we all know euphoria is a temporary gig, right? How much could we ever get done if we humans were euphoric all day, every day? Think of all the dancing shoes we'd be wearing out, one pair after another...). I am inspired to get my metaphorical ass in gear. I will finally learn Dreamweaver; I will at last learn to use my new camera; I will begin to tackle some of my vintage projects (maybe I'll photograph them!) and most of all, I will write.

Anyway, before I frighten myself with all these plans, I'd like to share a couple of favorite election night images you may have missed. Ezra posted the first one just as the election was called for Barack Obama; the second comes from a terribly cute website, Cats for Obama (H/T Lisa at Cogitamus).



So, how about you? Now that you can breathe (somewhat) more easily, secure in the knowledge that a smart, competent grownup will soon be running things, what sort of creative work will you dive into with wild (or even mild) abandon?

Pride

I am off to help out at the nearby Obama office--working the phones or knocking on doors, or both--but I wanted to pop my head in the door to say how proud I am today.

Proud of all the wonderful people I've met--in grocery store lines, at parent events, and while out on the town--who get it. Proud of my fellow liberals; proud of the many conservatives I know who are putting country before party and voting for a Democrat for the first time. Proud of our extraordinary, brilliant, history-making candidate, Barack Obama. Proud of my American husband and my American children.

Proud of America.

I'll be back this evening with observations (and maybe even a few photos). Go and vote! And if you've already voted, volunteer as much as you're able--even if it's just giving a neighbor a ride to the polls.

Onward!

The Death (Metal) of Summer

Son One--age 16--has always liked a wide array of music genres (hmmm, I wonder why?), some of which I prefer him to keep between him and the iPod headset. Yes, I've become that mother. The laundry-doing one who, after folding the seventeenth black t-shirt sporting some variant of horned beast and a reference to the underworld in gothic font, wonders if she ought to hold a Bic lighter aloft: We salute you, oh Dark Lord.

So I was skeptical of Son One's Death Metal recommendation yesterday. That stuff is a bit, um, after my era. I don't always get it. It's...it's...too loud. Sometimes, okay? Sometimes.

This time, however, Son One appears to have broken through my biases.

I present to you Children of Bodom, also known as Alexi Laiho and Roope Latvala of Finland, playing the Summer movement from Vivaldi's Four Seasons on their guitars.

Be impressed and amazed. I was.

The Obama Menace!

Lee's latest. And it's awesome, as you'd expect--enjoy and share.

Happy Sunday (and Happy Almost-Hallowe'en, and last-week-of-the-Best-Election-Season-Evah, and pre-Día de los Muertos/All Saints Day, and Nearly Guy Fawkes Day) everyone.

Saturday Morning Awesome*

Via the supremely hip NB, friend and fellow ex-pat. NB's blog Life Elsewhere is a must-visit for music lovers, especially those who hail from the Seattle area, where NB's radio shows, back in the day, were the stuff of legend.

* Post title shamelessly borrowed from Bob Cesca.

Friday Frank: Easy Meat; Paris, 1980

Things I loved hearing on this gray October Friday:

- "Miss, can I please see your ID for that wine?"

- Hey Deb, Dave of Zencomix made a comic* for you.
Cheers, Michael Hussey

- "Mama, let me know when you post this week's Friday Frank...oh, and I found your keys."

Today's Friday Frank--a long one, with lots of signature changes and a gorgeous solo--is dedicated, then, to Dave, Son Two, and the lovely (if terribly myopic) checkout guy at Publix.

Bon Weekend, everyone.

XXX
D.

* I'll post the whole strip if and when Dave gives me permission.