testicle festival fighting

VOLUME XVI ISSUE 1
TESTICLE FESTIVAL
FIGHTING | BASEDOW
CORPORATE CRIME
MARRIAGE | CUBA
VOLUME XVI
EDITOR’S NOTE
EDITOR IN CHIEF_jennifer hill
PUBLISHER_scott carver
ART & LAYOUT DIRECTOR_ada mayer
PR MANAGER_meredith frengs
COPY CHIEF_linda hjorth
CONTRIBUTORS_sara brickner
_alexander hongo
_tom hubka
_rebecca kennedy
_mitch levy
_eric weilbacher
ovoice@darkwing.uoregon.edu
541_346_0607
www.oregonvoice.com
COVER ART_alexandra burguieres
Featuring Misprinted Type
@www.misprintedtype.com
Dear ReadersThis fall marks the end of many things. Guided by Voices, officially broken up at last, is
touring the country one last alcohol-soaked time. Ryan Bornheimer, our old editor in chief,
is probably out screaming the words to “As We Go Up, We Go Down” at the tour bus and
begging Bob Pollard for an interview as I write. It’s also the end of my stint in this life as a
minor, and yes, for all you politicos, the end of John Ashcroft’s scary, scary career as US
Attorney General.
Last year, we didn’t get to do a lot of the high-tech intensive journalistic moves that we at
the Voice desire: name-drops of “Good Morning Miami” in every issue, sneaking Arnold
Schwarzenegger quotes into every article, convincing Jesus and Satan to interview each
other, putting Tony Little in as Asshole of the Month. That doesn’t mean that we are giving
up this year; no, in fact, you get twice as much this year.
Have you spent your entire life inside, never having talked to a drunk person? Well now
you have your chance. Man on the Street asks the important questions to the point-zeroeight and over crowd. Some of our brave new staff members risked life and limb to watch
rednecks fight each other with folding chairs at a roller rink, and tell of their citizenshiprisking adventures of hitchhiking in Cuba. All that goodness inside this little magazine?
Better wait to wrap those fish or wipe your ass; you’ve got some reviews to read.
We’ve got an extra issue this year, and some exciting possibilities. Our staff table is
swelling, and our energy is at near-critical levels. We still want to hear from you. I swear,
I don’t check ovoice@darkwing.uoregon.edu three times a day at my boring office job for
nothing…give us some feedback. Tell us what you ate for breakfast, what your favorite
color was eight years ago, and what your first concert was..but don’t forget to tell us what
you want to read. Thanks for sticking around.
Jennifer Hill
OREGON VOICE is published seven times per acedemic year, approximately twice per term. Correspondence and advertising business can be directed
to 1228 Erb Memorial Union, Suite 4, Eugene OR, 97403-1228. Copyright 2004, all rights reserved by OREGON VOICE. Reproduction without permission is prohibited. OREGON VOICE is a general interest magazine that expresses issues and ideas that affect the quality of life at the University and in
the University community. The program, founded in 1989 and re-established in 2001, provides an opprotunity for students to gain valuble experience in
all phases of magazine publishing. Administration of the program is handled entirely by students.
BALLS TO THE GRILL SINCE 1989.
WWW.OREGONVOICE.COM
Minutia: Corporate Crime Quiz
*Asshole of the Month: John Basedow
Reviews: Loque, Richard Schindell, The Taqwacores
Constitutional Challenges to Gay Rights
STORY_rebecca kennedy
Marriage: Here Today, Gone Tommorow
STORY_sara brickner
My First Fight Night
STORY_ada mayer
The Testicle Festival
STORY_krista johnson
50 years: Brown vs. Board of Education
STORY_rebecca kennedy
A Hitichiker’s Guide to Cuba
STORY_erica sebastian
04
05
06
08
09
10
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13
14
:
Corporate Crime Quiz
Recent rash of white-collar crime got you down? Feeling lost among a sea of embezzlements and insider trading? Searching to define yourself in a world of rich white
men? Let the Voice help you! This simple quiz will help you identify your doppelganger
in the crazy, mixed up world of white collar crime.
STORY_Jennifer Hill
1. Uh oh! You’ve been indicted.
What’s your charge?
a. Insider Trading (Trading by officers, directors, major stockholders, or
others who hold private inside information allowing them to benefit from
buying or selling stock*)
b. Fraud, “skimming” of corporate accounts
c. Trading violations (but really fraud and selling billions of dollars’ worth
of junk bonds (A high-risk, non-investment-grade bond with a low credit
rating)
If you answered mostly A’s, you’re Martha Stewart. You spent most of the 1990’s building a domestic
empire. ImClone’s cancer drug wasn’t going to be approved by the FDA, so you dumped it and saved yourself 50 grand. Now you’re in jail and the buttsex jokes
will never stop.
2. Just how much cash did you steal?
a. About $50,000
b. Upwards of $600 million
c. $1 billion
3. How exactly did you do it?
a. Learned that your significant share stock was expected to plummet from
an insider, dumped it all before everything happened.
b. “Skimmed” large amounts of funds from corporate accounts, including
pensions and retirement funds, over a period of several years.
c. Came up with a new type of high-risk (and high-yield) “junk” bond which
undercut the current S&P bond ratings system, and convinced many prominent money managers to adopt this type of investment.
If you answered mostly B, you’re Dennis Kozlowski,
the former CEO of Tyco accused of embezzling nearly
$600 million from company funds with your fellow executives. You’re the epitome of modern white-collar
crime, a white guy stealing lots of money from innocent people and getting away with it completely
4. How’d you spend the profits?
a. Threw a classy Christmas party for my corporation at our offices in New York
b. Held a million dollar birthday party for my wife on the island of Sardinia, featuring an ice sculpture of Michelangelo’s David that squirted vodka out of its penis
c. Organized a series of extravagant events for my constituents, including
hordes of limousines at exclusive hotels, featuring top-notch entertainers like
Frank Sinatra
5. Judgment day…what’s the sentence?
a. Five months in a low-security prison and five months of house arrest, a ruined
career and a lifetime of heckling from the press
b. Mistrial! You get to keep all the money and don’t have to go to jail.
c. Ten years in jail, and a nasty case of cancer. But you emerge from behind bars
as a health guru and champion philanthropist
04 OV
If you answered mostly C’s, you’re Michael Milken,
the self-proclaimed “junk-bond king” of the 1980’s.
Sure, you served your time, but now you are even
more famous for your health and philanthropic contributions. You have the last laugh, because you’re actually friends with Martha Stewart, going on her show
and telling the world that your kids have never eaten
chocolate.
STORY_meredith frengs
*
What constitutes a celebrity? Perhaps someone whose everyday behavior seems
to command unwarranted public opinion? Consider Mary-Kate Olsen’s eating
disorder crisis, or Tom Cruise’s exaggerated love for Scientology. Prince William
can’t be overlooked, as his royal status and boyish charm put him at the top of
the who’s who radar. It is a struggle to find anything in common between these rampant pop culture icons and self-made “star”
of the fitness world, John Basedow.
Everyone has seen his commercials, whether actively taking note of Basedow’s oiled and rippling six-pack abs or scoffing at the
amateur advertisements, rich with neon graphics and home-shot video footage. And, we’re sure while viewing them like us, you
probably thought to yourself, “Who does this guy think he is?” Thus, it is with great pride and an abundance of snickers that we
at the Oregon Voice announce the latest addition to our “Asshole of the Month” files: fitness celebrity John Basedow.
At first glance, John Basedow is simply an 80s style pretty face trying to make it big in a body image-obsessed world. His tanned
and unsettlingly toned chest serves to inspire couch potatoes nationwide to finally do something about their flabby arms and
spare tire stomachs, thus making a “positive change.” Basedow’s commercials have a bizarre, time capsule worthy style that is
not only annoying, but incredibly off-putting as well. For instance, how old is he? Is he as small as he appears on screen? And
isn’t he only a “celebrity” because he decided he could call himself one?
After perusing Fitness Made Simple, his website and home base, we were overwhelmed by the abundance of images of
Basedow. Each photograph is dramatically posed, whether he is sprawled across some sort of ancient-looking façade, or
stroking his perfect stomach in sheer ecstasy. The most disturbing portion of the website is found after the description of his
video catalog: “In response to so many requests, we are now offering color and B&W photo sets featuring Fitness Star John
Basedow.” Wait, what? People are actually willing to shell out $39.95 for six “inspirational photosets” of Basedow? Although
we would have loved to pursue the chance to actually speak with John regarding our workout and fitness questions (he offers
a 30-minute scheduled phone conversation as another way of ripping off ignorant fatties), we opted to stay away from any real
contact with the “star” himself in hopes that we, too, would not be suckered into purchasing one of his workout videos (i.e.:
Better Body Basics, Six Pack Abs, deemed his “ab Bible,” or any other titles we’ve all seen late at night on literally any television
station anywhere in the nation). Basedow is over-marketing his positive attitude and simple solutions to America’s biggest health
problem by pretending to be everyone’s new best friend, all the while burning a hole in his followers’ slack wallets.
John Basedow is just another person with low self-esteem and an inflated ego willing to whore himself out to the world in hopes
of resembling some sort of “star.” According to an Amazon.com customer review of Fitness Made Simple, Basedow’s bestselling video, his products are “a complete waste of time,” and another reviewer claims to have exercised only his arm through
purchasing the tape: once, to try it, next, to review it online, and lastly, to throw it out the window. We couldn’t have said it better
ourselves.
Fitness Celebrity John Basedow is a joke and certainly qualifies for his new starring role: Asshole of the Month. After all, the
world of mainstream media is already full of Paris Hilton and Nicole Richie types, desperate B-list stars like Gary Coleman, and
former Bachelor contestants. We don’t need another “celebrity” taking up precious late-night television time, especially one
whose prestigious title was simply tacked onto his name to command the attention of the desperate and ignorant.
OV 05
BOOK_The Taqwacores.
AUTHOR_Michael Muhammad Knight
PUBLISHER_Autonomedia
RELEASE DATE_August, 2004
“A lot of Taqwacore is just to throw shit out there and really piss people off,” says
Jehangir, a character in Michael Muhammad Knight’s novel The Taqwacores.
Knight wrote the book independently and distributed a photocopied edition until it
was picked up by Autonomedia, a radical not-for-profit publisher.
Knight mixes the esoteric cultures of Islam and Punk surprisingly well in his story
about young adults living in a house in Buffalo, New York. The main character,
Yusef Ali, is a moderate, questioning voice in the midst of a wide ideological
spectrum ranging from the conservative Umar, to drunken pink-Mohawked Jehangir.
The characters are well developed, allowing their core interpretations of Islam to
create interesting, meaningful conflict. Almost naturally this spurs debate about
Muslim ideals in the form of smart, culture-laced banter.
REVIEW_scott carver
“Taqwacore” refers to the Muslim punk rock scene on the West Coast, primarily in
California. Jehangir speaks of the movement with epic connotations and eventually
invites the bands to Buffalo for a show in the middle of winter. The Taqwacores
broaden the debate of Islam, flirting with indecency and eventually going much
further.
Gender, sexuality and tradition, among other things, are critically torn apart. Knight
spares no one from this discussion. “I can say that Muhammad ate a fat dick and it
doesn’t even matter because he’s dead and Allah’s alive,” says Jehangir, who also
rails on the prophet for having a 6-year-old wife.
Rabeya, the only female housemate, wears a Burqua and as a stipulation of living
with the other males, lives alone in the basement of the house. She is a caustic
and poignant feminist, who questions the antiquations of her gender. “Finally I said,
fuck it. If I believe it’s wrong for a man to beat his wife, and the Quran disagrees
with me, then fuck the verse. I don’t need to stretch and squeeze it for a weak
alternative reading,” she says of her practice of crossing out lines in/ the Quran.
On another occasion she says, “the more you accept man’s intrinsic weakness, the
easier it is to hate girls. Suddenly all your bad thoughts are their fault since they
should have known how weak you are and not take advantage of it. When you’re
enslaved by your nuts you can hate all sorts of girls.”
The Taqwacores’ celebration of the diverse opinions comes in unexpected ways.
Jehangir, says, “The United States can save Islam…Muslims are coming here from
like a thousand different countries, all of them with their own ideas about what Islam
is supposed to be.” Knight shows homosexual Muslims, punk rock Muslims, worldly
Muslims, progressive and conservatives all adding valuable ideas to the debate.
Knight can be jarring in his unconventional wisdom. Because this book comes
at a time when our media and government marginalize if not criminalize Islamic
culture, it is especially engaging. Its bold attitude makes it a funny, thoughtful and
realistic portrayal of our generation. Perhaps what is most surprising is that Knight
manages to do all of this without disrupting the sanctity of Islamic culture and his
personal faith.
06 OV
ARTIST_Richard Shindell
ALBUM_Vuelta
LABEL_Koch Records
RELEASE DATE_August, 2004
Upon graduation from Hobart College, Richard Shindell left New York City to explore Europe with his guitar
and a bit of money. A few months later he was rambling off impromptu ditties in dirty Paris train stations and
living off spare change. Shindell has come a very long way since Paris.
REVIEW_tom hubka
In the fall of 2004 Shindell released his sixth LP Vuelta: a sleepy, clever album about an island paradise, taxi
drivers, and the American dream. Even though Shindell moved to Buenos Aires in 2000 and wrote Vuelta amid
rich Argentinean culture, his music remains true to its original style: quiet, genial folk narratives.
For Vuelta, Shindell teamed with local powerhouse group Puente Celeste, whose influence is heard minimally,
but applied wisely in the hazy ballad “Fenario” and the Pete Seeger cover “Waist Deep In The Big Muddy.”
Vuelta offers listeners everything Shindell has become well known for: delicate acoustic and slide guitar, a
variety of strings arrangements and his unusual Jimmy Buffet-meets-Dave Matthews voice. Yet what makes
Shindell stand out from other folk singers are his detailed, novella-like lyrics. Clearly his strongest point,
Shindell’s lyrics weave intricate characters set in simple stories such as the lovesick cabbie in “The Last Fare
of The Day” and the solitary tourist who makes the tropical atoll he visits on business his home in “The Island.”
The most striking, accomplished song of the album is “Che Guevara T-Shirt.” Consisting of only vocals, simple
guitar and minimal percussion, the song’s lyrics tell the sad tale of a young immigrant stowed away in a ship
sailing from Shindell’s own Buenos Aires to America “With his blanket and his flashlight/And a picture of his
sweetheart/He’s rationing his batteries/But right now he can’t resist her.”
It would be easy to write off Shindell it takes only a few songs to realize that the subtle intellect of his work
establishes him as a dignified and legitimate member of the American folk tradition.
ARTIST_Louque
ALBUM_So Long
LABEL_Lava Records
RELEASE DATE_May, 2004
REVIEW_eric weilbacher
The music of this Brooklyn-transplanted Cajun who discovered sampling is at best, pleasant. It is not worth
some critics ranting and ravings about a new-fangled hip-pop-Cajun-jazz-funk. Apparently everyone seems
lost as how to categorize So Long.
Dustan Louque (pronounced Luke), the bands front man, calls the sound “faya,” deriving the name from
Lafayette, in reference to the Louisiana city from which co-writer Donovan Guidry hails. While critics call
Louque a blend of “Dancehall and Urban Funk,” a “stylistic fusion of folk, soul, dancehall reggae and
electronic,” it is largely nonsense. It’s Sting with samples. The beats follow a spacey, mellow motif of placid
repetition. Hip ‘urban’ beats, background atmospheric silliness and blenchingly dramatic vocals comprise this
entire album.
The opener Perique (named after the region in Louisiana that grows the tobacco for black-pack American
Spirits), and the Mazzy Star cover Cry Cry are the albums highlights. All told, this album leaves you feeling
alone, assaulted by melancholy. Whiskey or Strong Ale makes a fine aperitif when consuming this claptrap.
OV 07
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STORY_rebecca kenned
majority of Louisiana
On September 18, 2004 an overwhelming
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equal protection
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the Louisiana Constitution, but sponsors
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voters again to achieve the desired resul
ed ballot measures
There are 11 states in the union that pass
al couples, and most passed
prohibiting marriage between homosexu
this type of legislation will
by a signifigant majority. Challenges to
next year.
likely reach the Supreme Court sometime
te to provide some context by
With this in mind, we thought it appropria
gay and lesbian rights.
reviewing past court decisions affecting
In 1986 the Court considered the case of Bowers v. Hardwick, which challenged a Georgia law making sodomy a criminal offense. The law applied to
both heterosexual and homosexual sodomy, but the Court chose only to consider the constitutionality of applying the law to homosexual sodomy. The
marital right to privacy (alternatively called the rule that only gives married heterosexuals the right to fuck in their own bedrooms without the threat of
government intervention) had already been established in the Court’s 1965 decision in Griswold v. Connecticut, and was therefore considered a moot
point.
In a controversial decision, the Court upheld the Georgia law by a five-tofour margin, arguing that the right to privacy established in Griswold “did
not prevent the criminalization of homosexual conduct between consenting
adults.” Newly appointed Justice Sandra Day O’Conner joined in the majority
opinion.
The next case the Court considered was Romer v. Evans, which challenged
an amendment to the Colorado Constitution that prevented the state from
giving “preferred or protected status” to homosexuals. In a six-to-three
decision, the Court decided that the Colorado amendment violated
the Equal Protection Clause of the Fourteenth Amendment, and
therefore the equal protection rights of homosexuals. This led many to
reconsider the social viability of the Bowers decision, and seemed to
be a good indicator of new judicial sympathy toward gay and lesbian
rights. Justice O’Conner voted with the majority.
Four year later the Court decided to hear the case of Boy Scouts of America v. Dale, and gay rights activists, fourteen years after Bowers, marched
around the streets in Eagle Scout uniforms to make a point. The question before the Court centered on the constitutionality of excluding people from
the Boy Scouts due to their homosexuality. In a five-to-four opinion, the Court ruled that the First Amendment protected the Boy Scouts right to exclude
members based on sexual orientation, because they are an expressive organization which promotes the view that homosexuality is unacceptable.
O’Conner ruled with the majority. Liberals on the Court questioned whether views concerning homosexuals were really that central to the Boy Scouts
“expressive purposes.”
Finally, in 2003 the Court considered Lawrence v. Texas, which again
challenged the constitutionality of prohibiting homosexual sodomy
between consensual adults and raised similar equal protection
questions. In another close decision, the Court ruled six-to-three to
overrule its previous decision in Bowers because the state did not have
a “legitimate interest” in interfering in sexual relationships between
consenting adults. Once again, O’Conner voted with the majority,
concurring on equal protection grounds.
That is the major recent history of Supreme Court gay and lesbian rights
cases. It probably seems somewhat random that I keep highlighting the
way Justice O’Conner has voted, but an interesting pattern emerges:
she always votes with the majority. In other words, on cases concerning
gay and lesbian rights, the way O’Conner goes is the way the Court
goes. This could be particularly important on a court that is stuck in a
5-4 conservative-liberal split, with O’Conner representing the swing vote,
especially in equal protection cases.
And if that still seems irrelevant to you, I have one more little tidbit. She is also a moderate Republican from Texas. Worrisome, maybe, but at least
she’s not a compassionate conservative from Texas.
08 OV
STORY_sara brickner
arriage:
here today,
gone tommorow.
On March 11, 2004, a West
that marriage is a “fundamental right”.
Hollywood couple traveled to San
Francisco to take their wedding After dating for almost two years, Raul
vows at the San Francisco
proposed to Rob on Christmas Eve 2003.
City Hall. One partner is a 42Three days after Mayor Newsom declared
year-old employed in real estate that gay marriages would be performed in San
investment, while the other is a Francisco, Rob made his own proposal. The
47-year old litigation paralegal;
couple made the next available appointment
the former is Catholic, Mexican, for March 11.
Armenian, Cherokee Indian and
a second-generation Los Angeles
Raul, who is originally from Los Angeles, called
resident, while the latter comes from Rob’s parents in Michigan before departing
a large Jewish family in Michigan. for City Hall to ask for their blessings.
Most other couples with similar
backgrounds would have received “My cultural thing was, I need to at least ask
their marriage licenses without a permission first because that’s the respectful
hitch and continued on to live happily thing to do in my heritage,” Raul said.
ever after. But unfortunately for Raul Unfortunately, no family members made it to
Cobian and Rob Bergstein, the fairy- the ceremony.
tale union of marriage and happilyever-after is not yet a legal option.
“It happened so quickly and we wanted
to get in there,” Rob said. “There was a
Although the 2000 United States shortage of time to invite family, and it was
Census revealed that over 92,000 so touch and go seeing what the courts
same-sex couples reside in California, would or would not do.”
with a total of almost 500,000 in the
United States, gay marriage has only Rob and Raul arrived at the San Francisco
recently become a key issue, dividing City Hall early, and did not worry about
Republicans and Democrats alike over “rushing into the building,” said Raul.
issues of semantics and morals.
Despite media reports of anti-gay
marriage protestors, the environment
Since all 11 same-sex measures passed at City Hall on March 11 was joyous,
in the 2004 election, Oregon has become the couple said. Both straight and gay
another state with a provision banning gay couples were there filling out identical
marriage in its State Constitution.
paperwork.
Fifty years after the Civil Rights movement,
the United States is still struggling to
become a place that champions ethnic,
religious, and racial diversity-- except this
time, it is not difference of race, ethnicity
or religion blocking the path to equal rights.
Because they are the same gender, Rob
and Raul cannot receive the same rights as
heterosexual couples.
“People were there dressed up in
tuxedos; other couples were dressed
up in beautiful wedding gowns, [while]
other couples were dressed up in
their nicest clothes that they chose
to wear,” said Raul. “It was a big,
wide group of various types of people
celebrating in their own right. Some
families had children with them; some
families had their parents with them
Raul attributes the gay marriage conflict as filling out the paperwork. In my
part of the country’s growing pains, stating opinion, it was very festive. There
that this century has been one of progress were no protestors in front of the
and change. “One hundred years ago, building that I remember seeing.”
women were not allowed to vote and blacks
were not allowed to be in white restaurants,” “It had been going on for two
said Raul. “In Los Angeles we had a lot of months,” added Rob.
“The
problems in regard to integration. There were protestors had already gotten tired
a lot of civil rights problems here as well as in and gone home.”
the rest of the country-- this is just a process.”
Like most couples who marry in
The gay marriage controversy has been at the the San Francisco City Hall, Rob
forefront of California politics since February and Raul were given a tour of the
12, when San Francisco city officials and Gavin premises while waiting for their
Newsom, mayor of San Francisco, agreed to defy two witnesses and good friends to
California state law by allowing gay and lesbian arrive. Their tour was cut short,
marriages to take place at the San Francisco however, when a City Hall official
City Hall in what the San Francisco Chronicle approached with the news that
dubbed “a historic act of civic disobedience”. the Supreme Court was about
Mayor Newsom allowed the marriages to take to release a decision on whether
place on the grounds that California law also the same sex marriages would
bans sexual orientation discrimination, arguing be allowed to continue. While
couples usually speak to the magistrate before the
ceremony, Raul and Rob were told there would not
be time.
said Rob. “Our temple was at the
forefront of same-sex marriages.”
Rob and Raul’s religious background
“[A City Hall employee] grabbed us and said, have only fueled their belief that the
religious justification for being anti-gay
“Come with us right now,” said Rob. Minutes later,
is erroneous. While the Bible states
in front of the magistrate and their two witnesses,
that homosexuality is an abomination,
Rob Bergstein and Raul Cobian took their marital
vows and received what would become the last “it’s also an abomination to wear an
article of clothing made of more than
marriage license issued to a same-sex couple in
one kind of fabric,” Rob said. “It’s
San Francisco. As the couple was taking their
selective interpretation of the Bible. If
vows, the Supreme Court halted the marriages,
citing the Knight Initiative, a measure passed into you’re going to take some things in
the Bible literally, take the whole thing
law on March 7, 2000 which states that “only
literally.”
marriage between a man and a woman is valid
or recognized in California.” It is, Rob said,
“I don’t know how many hundreds or
“essentially another Defense of Marriage Act.”
thousands of gay people there are in the
United States, but I know that God has
Rob and Raul were legally married for five
not made that many mistakes,” added
months. Then, on August 12, the California
Supreme Court ruled to nullify the same-sex Raul. “We’ve got to give some credit.”
marriages in a 5-2 vote, stating that California
state law outlaws same-sex marriage and
unanimously ruling that Mayor Newsom acted
outside of his authority.
After hearing the August Supreme Court
decision, Rob felt “betrayed”.
“You can meet a stranger, get married
tomorrow and have 1,000 state and federal
rights granted automatically,” Rob said.
Although California law will offer domestic
partnership benefits to gay and lesbian
couples beginning in January of 2005, the
law will only grant a few of the state rights
offered to heterosexual married couples.
The partnership will exclude any federal
benefits accorded to heterosexual couples,
as well as most state benefits.
While some employers accept domestic
partnerships, Rob’s employer, Resolute
Management, Inc., a Berkshire Hathaway
“For myself, I felt very angry,” said Raul. “If
company, does not currently offer these
the government can use me for my taxpaying
benefits. Aetna, Resolute Management,
dollars, if they can use my family members
to go fight a war that I don’t believe in for Inc.’s insurance provider, honors domestic
partnerships and said they would honor Rob
the term of freedom, how can they tell us,
and Raul’s marriage as long as Rob’s employer
“You need to pay taxes and have family
agreed.
members go to war, but you can’t be a part
of our society?” This country was not based
“They said, “’We’ll do it as of next year as long
on having certain people be allowed to do
as the marriages are recognized’,” Rob said.
certain things. My father fought in World
“They were banking on the fact that the courts
War Two-- not because he felt like it, but
because he felt the country needed him. would overturn it.”
[He] fought in wars to give us the freedom
Currently, the city of San Francisco and twelve
to be who we are today.”
same-sex couples are suing to challenge the
While Rob does believe that Mayor same-sex marriage ban on the grounds that the
initiative is discriminatory and unconstitutional.
Newsom “did overstep his legal authority
Two groups in opposition of gay marriage,
as mayor”, the couple attended a
the Campaign for California Families and the
ceremony in honor of Mayor Newsom’s
Proposition Twenty-two Legal Defense Fund, have
decision.
joined in the defense of the state law, arguing that
liberal California Attorney General Bill Lockyer
“We wanted to support him and thank
cannot be trusted to defend the law. The California
him for supporting us,” said Raul. “It
Supreme Court said that they would not decide the
took a lot of guts to do that.”
constitutionality of the gay marriage ban until after
the lower courts reviewed it. Rob believes that it
“We still feel that we’re married in each
will take at least two years for the Supreme Court to
other’s eyes and God’s eyes and our
hear the case.
family’s eyes.”
Despite their differing religious
backgrounds, Rob and Raul share
faith in a benevolent God. Although
Raul is Catholic, a faith that does
not traditionally recognize same-sex
marriages, the temple they attend is
Reform Judaism, and “very liberal,”
Raul believes that the solution to this conflict does not
lie only in legislation.
“We’re all [God’s] children,” said Raul. “We have to
stop hating our neighbors and start loving one another.
That’s the bottom line.”
OV 09
MY FIRST FIGHT NIGHTNITE
I have always been weak at heart, and
stomach, for violence. I puke when I
see internal organs, a lot of blood, or
smell cat pee. I barely made it through
Kill Bill Part 1, and have done little
more physical damage to anyone than
a friendly slap on the ass. However, I
found a friend in violence last year when
my brother introduced me to boxing.
Although the rupturing of skin made
me twinge, I was captivated by the
“bad-assness” of the sport. I only had
to watch a few boxing matches to know
that I was hooked on witnessing brawny
men beat the shit out of one another.
Naturally, I was compelled to attend
the Full Contact Fighting Federation’s
Fight Night. On October 9th, the FCFF
presented the ultimate fighting event
at Skateworld in Springfeild, OR. I
saw this as my golden opportunity to
10 OV
witness live the ass-kicking that I could
not afford to watch on pay-per-view and
always gets broken up in a matter of
seconds at any local bar.
The FCFF is an amateur Mixed Martial
Arts event, which currently has over
200 fights under its belt. In 2001, it
was founded by Kevin Keeney and his
college buddy Cael Sonnen in Oregon.
Keeney and Sonnen both wrestled at
the University of Oregon. They were
inspired by the success of the Ultimate
Fighting Championships to begin
an amateur ultimate fighting event.
Sonnen continues to compete in fighting
events, while Keeney has become a
schoolteacher and no longer wrestles.
The FCFF offers amateur contestants
from various fighting disciplines to
compete with one another “No Holds
Barred.” This means that minimal
restrictions are placed on what fighters
can do to one another within the
infamous octagon cage known as the
“Slammer.”
Opponents are paired up by weight and
engage in two, five minute rounds with a
two-minute rest in between. If a winner
has not been determined by the end of
the second round, then a panel of three
judges makes the decision. The fighters
use techniques from karate, boxing,
jujitsu, judo, kung fu and wrestling.
I prepared myself, and my weak
stomach, for the bodily demolition that I
anticipated I would see go down in the
Slammer. I imagined being packed into
the transformed roller rink with a rowdy
crowd. I calculated what I would ask the
enormous and intimidating fighters as
E
they warmed-up behind the scenes, and
how they would respond amid throwing
practice punches at imaginary rivals.
Arriving at Skateworld, however,
presented me with quite a different
scenario than the one I had envisioned. I
was met by a long line of disappointingly
sober and subdued patrons. I waited
patiently, for some enthusiastic fans to
arrive bearing face-paint, belligerently
screaming, and perhaps even pre-fight
brawling with one another. The most
dedication I witnessed was a wasted
guy in an Afro wig and polyester pants
wandering around aimlessly.
I had expected these people to be the
type that went to monster truck rallies
and demolition derbies. The type of
audience that was pumped up and
ready for action. Maybe their lack of
enthusiasm was because they were in
shock after shelling out $25 for a regular
seat or $50 for a ringside seat. Maybe
it was because Skateworld does not
sell beer. Or perhaps, they had all just
realized that this was an amateur event,
a fact that goes unmentioned anywhere
on the Fight Night flyer.
Inside, Skateworld smelled like old
socks and nachos. The walls were
littered with seasonal Halloween décor
and posters advertising for middle
school dances. From the ceiling hung
swirls of rainbow
nylon. In the middle
of the rink sat the
Slammer, surrounded
in folding chairs.
colorful dots, signaled the beginning
of the event. Three female dancers
proceeded to shake what-their-mama’sgave-them accompanied by thumping
hip hop. Next, Keeney emerged
from the roller rink’s edge impeccably
dressed in a black cowboy hat and
black cowboy boots. He thanked the
U.S. Military for their valiant efforts
overseas, and announced that it was
“Time for fight night!” A weak applause
resounded.
The first two contestants entered to
the tune of Kid Rock’s “Cowboy,” clad
only in black spandex shorts, mouth
guards and gloves. Each opponent
was escorted by a scantily dressed Oh
Calender Girls. The duel lasted about
two minutes and reminded me of high
school wrestling matches in which the
wrestlers appear to be passionately
embracing one another rather than
accomplishing a show of masculine
brawn.
Throughout the evening, things did
get more heated. I saw a couple of
precision swings, some skillful two-man
somersaulting, and impressive kneeto-groin contact. The event climaxed
when middleweight champion, Ocean
Baker, “accidentally” head-butted
competitor Scott Trayhorn, causing a
cut over Trayhorn’s eye and for the fight
to be discontinued
immediately. Overall though, blood and
crushed bones were scarce that night.
As it turns out, no one gets their asseskicked that bad at the FCFF. According
to Keeney, the sport results in fewer
injuries than football. The “No Holds
Barred” criteria does not even allow for
biting, eye gouging, or head stomping.
Full contact fighting trainer, Paul
Hopkins, defined the sport as “very
safe.” “[The fighters] get a chance to roll
around and play. It’s like being a kid,”
said Hopkins. He compared the sport to
a chess match.
Bear, a friendly security guard, summed
it up best when he explained that,
“[Fight Night] is somewhere that guys
who are just local neighborhood boys
can actually get a shot to do something
real.”
So, Fight Night was not the nosebusting grudge match that I had hoped
for. Had it been, I probably would have
just puked all over the place. Instead, I
discovered something beautiful: There
exists a place where regular guys can
come and engage in some red-blooded,
all-American fighting without getting 86’d
from a bar.
I felt like something
was going on where it
was not supposed to,
like when highschoolers
gather in the parking
lot to watch a prearranged bout between
adolescent rivals.
Dimming lights, and a
rainbow light ball that
illuminated the rink in
OV 11
IVAL
TH E T
E
LE FE
ST
IC
T
S
nly 20 miles away from my family’s ranch in Montana and 25 miles from Missoula lay the town of Rock Creek which once
a year holds a celebration of everything bovine and base. Although my parents warned me that nothing good happens
there, not going would have been a crime against curiosity. And within this muddy place I found the most untapped educational
resource, 50-year-old, horny, and burnt out bikers.
Lesson 1: Testes have a rich culture.
Why would 20,000 people from around the country flock to a rural town in
the middle of nowhere in constant rain to celebrate mammalian genitalia?
For one reason, rocky mountain oysters are a delicacy, and also there
is an extensive culture surrounding the oysters which includes four days
of camping, smoking, conversation, a wet t-shirt contest, body painting,
mud, bands, public nudity and sex, food, souvenirs, and a full bar (which in
Montana means enough beer and whiskey to last four days).
Lesson 2: Don’t drive drunk, camp drunk.
Outside the festival police lights flash on both sides of the interstate. The
police are not allowed to come into the festival, so they wait outside to stop
anyone who drives ten feet. (A very smart thing). The solution for the festival
goers—camp. Around the Rock Creek lodge there are more tents and
campers than people in Montana. They are surrounded in each direction
with a half mile of parked cars. Not only does this provide for convenient
crashing, but according to the bikers and their friends that “bedded down” the
night before, four day binges have aphrodisiac effects.
Lesson 3: Don’t judge a testicle by its cover.
In my experience it takes at least three beers and a slight hangover from
the night before to eat a plate of fried testicles. Having fulfilled the quota, my
friends and I ordered our meal. We could have had beans and bread, but
we like our testicles a la carte, dipped in ranch and barbeque sauce. They
didn’t look intimidating in the dark, and thus I learned that bull testes, when
fried, come in many different consistencies. Tina got one so hard she could
barely tear off a bite. My companions, Ross and Cooper, happily ate the two
smallest and most tender testicles. Corey and I picked up large, somewhat
squishy morsels as the words “Whoa here she comes, watch out boys she’ll
chew you up” flashed through my mind. It was so tasty I had to chase it with
a full beer.
Lesson 4: Family Matters
After being officially initiated with an edible orgy, an old, tattooed biker named
Joe shared his cigarettes with us. He was a talented conversationalist and
could discuss his life history while simultaneously trying to coerce us girls
into taking our tops off. Ironically, he had just come from Eugene, Oregon
visiting a relative and partying with college students. I mistakenly told him I
was one of those college students and he said he was very glad to hear it but
he wouldn’t ask me my last name. I asked why and he said, “I don’t ask girls
12 OV
their last names no more. At my last family reunion my cousins were getting too
attractive. After all we might be related.”
Lesson 5: Why do in private what you can do in public?
We walked away from Joe and right into a crowd, standing in front of the bar
window. Perhaps I’ve had a sheltered life, but I’d never actually witnessed
public sex. I now realize that I am one of the few privileged people my age to
have witnessed elderly bikers going at it in a bar window. Luckily in order to
make us first timers more familiar with the process, five men were shouting out
suggestions to the momentary couple and one was giving a play by play for
anyone not involved. It was truly a sight for sore testicles.
Lesson 6: Be proud of your body.
If I hadn’t already learned that nothing was off limits, I met the mammogram
man, a tall biker with a silver box on his head and a sign that said, “Free
mammograms, radiation free.” I talked with him for a while, and he had
developed a fairly good argument through four days of experience and whiskey.
However, I explained to him that since most of the larger women attending the
festival were using flashing as currency, and one of their boobs was the size of
my head, no one would notice the absence of my chest.
Lesson 7: I’m smarter than I drink.
I consider myself a lucky person, because of all the people to be cornered by,
I was singled out by the drunkest man still standing. Denim Dan, as I called
him, had just been cut off from the bar after insisting that his five dollar bill was
a twenty. Over the next hour I learned that Denim Dan is good friends with Mel
Gibson, Tiger Woods, and John Travolta, and they would be more than happy to
party with us. I was finishing his sentences before Ross saved me by claiming
to be my fiancée. Dan said he was sorry, that I was a sweetheart, and in a
moment of brilliance, that really, he’s smarter than he drinks.
Lesson 8: Always get a souvenir.
The people who ran the festival were smart and they realized that Rocky
Mountain Oysters are a cash cow. I had thought earlier that the motto of the
festival was not “Testicle Festival: I had a ball!” but “STDs are like Pokemon,
you gotta catch ‘em all!” However, if you can’t leave with a disease there are
options, including women’s and men’s thongs, barbeque sauce, chaps, jackets,
sports bras, hats, license plate decorations, glasses, post cards, jewelry, and
documentaries. I bought a shirt of a bull guarding his testes, but I think perhaps
the most important lesson I left with was that “souvenir” is actually French,
meaning: a disturbing image of old biker sex that will haunt you forever.
This year marks the fiftieth anniversary
Professor of Philosophy Naomi Zack.
of the Supreme Court’s landmark decision
in Brown v. Board of Education, which
overturned the “separate but equal” doctrine
and launched a fifty year campaign to
desegregate public education in the United
States.
The panelists focused on recent school
voucher cases in Cleveland, Ohio and
Milwaukee, Wisconsin which suggest that
“de facto” segregation continues and in some
places is growing.
Because public education at the grade
school and high school levels is funded
largely through local taxes, less affluent
neighborhoods generally have poorly funded
public education. They also tend to have
higher proportions of minority residents. This
results in what has come to be known as “de
facto” segregation, or segregation that is a
result of socio-economic inequality rather
than legally institutionalized inequality.
2004 is a monumental year in the history
of Civil Rights. It also marks the fortieth
anniversary of the 1964 Civil Rights Act and
the tenth anniversary of the end of Apartheid
in South Africa.
But the Brown decision, both in its scope
and simplicity, was much more controversial
than either. In 1954, there was no national
consensus on the necessity of racial equality
like that which developed in 1964. And
certainly there was little overt international
pressure to end public school segregation, as
there was on the South African government
to end Apartheid.
Rather, the Court’s decision in Brown
underlined a massive divide within U.S.
society. Only 52% of Americans supported
the Court’s decision in 1954. And though
this figure increased to 88% in 1994, Brown’s
promise of equal protection in education is
still to a large extent unfulfilled.
In the first Brown decision the Court
unanimously agreed that “in the field of
public education, the doctrine of ‘separate
but equal’ has no place” because “separate
educational facilities are inherently unequal.”
The next year, in the case known as Brown
II, the Court ordered that desegregation
take place with “all deliberate speed.”
Subsequent Court decisions led to busing
and affirmative action policies which actively
sought to integrate public education and
redress past wrongs.
But throughout the United States, and
especially in the South, resistance to
desegregation continued to flourish. In 1965,
unprovoked state troopers attacked a group
of peaceful marchers attempting to cross a
bridge in Selma, Alabama. White opposition
to integration resulted in open defiance and
violent confrontation in Little Rock, Arkansas
in 1957, requiring federal troops to forcibly
integrate African Americans into previously
all-white student bodies.
Yet, a number of school districts in the
STORY
_rebecca kennedy
Southern and border-states desegregated
peacefully. A civil revolt against segregated
public transportation in Montgomery, Alabama
inspired similar boycotts across the country.
The year 1965 brought the Voting Rights Act,
which sought to end state disenfranchisement
of African American voters. And across the
country, ordinary Americans embraced the
Brown decision as a symbol of social justice and
acceptance of the principal of racial equality.
So what then is the legacy of Brown? Have the
goals of racial equality and public educational
integration been met?
A panel discussion held at the University of
Oregon Law School, and sponsored by the
Wayne Morse Center for Law and Politics,
on October 26 of this year, sought to address
this question. It featured adjunct Professor of
African American Diaspora Studies at Tulane
University Ray Diamond, UO Professors of
Law Gregory Vincent and Robert Tsai, and UO
The Bush Administration’s school voucher
program allows parents to use federal funding
to send their children to private schools if they
feel that the public education being provided
is of low-quality. Minority parents are facing a
tough dilemma: Is quality in education worth
a sacrifice in diversity and equality? Should
minority students in poor neighborhoods be
forced to commute to private schools just to
receive the same quality of education that
their white counterparts receive in well-funded
public schools?
The Los Angeles riots of 1992 demonstrated
that race hatred and violence have not
been completely eradicated since the
Brown decision. Indeed, another, but just
as insidious, type of segregation can still
be seen in many schools and cities. “De
facto” segregation results from prejudices
that separate communities, as well as socioeconomic differences between racial groups.
As Vincent put it, “Brown has failed in its
intended mission of real educational reform.”
But there are also signs of progress. In
September of this year, an African American
woman was appointed Chief of Police in
Birmingham, Alabama. A 2003 Supreme
Court decision in Grutter v. Bollinger upheld
the University of Michigan’s policy of using
race as one criterion in school admissions
policy, because it was narrowly tailored to
redress past wrongs. And this countries’
most elite institutions of higher education are
leading the way in affirmative action policies,
proving that diversity does not require
sacrifices in academic excellence.
OV 13
W
travelers. These huge vintage masses, with a small
‘taxi’ sign in the front window (if it’s legal, that is),
black smoke pouring out the back, will drop you
off anywhere along their set route for 10 pesos, or
about 40 cents.
Then be patient. Remain calm. Get
creative.
Just hold onto your wallet, and try to blend.
hen hitching a ride in Cuba, do as
the Cubans do: Get in line, offer
a bribe, or, for faster service, squeeze into
some tight jeans and say “pretty please.”
Allow me to explain.
I’d say ride a bike, but that too can be quite the
unpleasant experience. Aside from the million
In Cuba, there is no such thing as a city
degree heat and stick-to-everything humidity,
bus schedule. Under-funded, unequipped
the roads are in very poor condition. The word
gua-gua’s driven by underpaid, uninterested
‘pothole,’ in fact, is an understatement. ‘Pothole’
Cubans seem to come and go as they
implies merely a hole in the road, inconvenient as
please, blissfully unconcerned with the
it may be, maybe the size of a pot or so. The word
aggressive, sweaty crowds that thrust
does not prepare you for all the mid-road ditches or
themselves upon their stairs, hang
entire car-sized sections taken out of a street’s
themselves from their windows and
concrete, making it typical for drivers to swerve
doorways, push themselves desperately
around the roads, apparently intoxicated, looking
through their bowels, squishing down on
for a smooth surface to glide
toes like bare feet in wet sand, all for only 35 upon. My head gets
centavos.
rattled up. I
bump
That’s less than 1 peso. That’s less than 4
cents.
kind soul takes pity on you and swerves into the
breakdown lane.
No, hitching in Cuba is easy, safe and legal. It
is encouraged, subsidized, even recommended
by the Ministry of Transport. To travel cheap or
free you have help, options, and the law on your
side. All you need is time. Lots of time
Cubans like to call a ride una botella, so they
refer to hitchhiking as coger una botella. In
And you know what? It’s still not worth it,
less the cultural experience.
You could take an almendrón,
or ‘big almond,’ taxi if you’re
willing to spend a little more,
pretend you’re a Cuban,
and share an old 50’s
Chevy with six or
seven other
city
around like a rag-doll riding a bull. I sweat like
a pig. I’m afraid I’ll get hit.
It took me a while to realize that hitchhiking
is the fastest and most reliable form of
transportation on the island, short of
shelling out wads of cash for pricey tourist
taxis and cushy buses.
A
I had seen the girls in Havana gathered
at traffic lights, smiling sweetly
and hopping into the cars
of perfect strangers, but I
didn’t know it was a good
idea. As an American,
it has been drilled into
my head that hitching is
dangerous, irresponsible,
asking for trouble, that I
will be robbed, raped and
murdered, my body left in
a plastic bag on the side of
the road.
Hitchiker’s
to
STORY_erica sebastian
14 OV
And it is true that in this
country, where hitchhiking is
illegal and fairly uncommon,
it has become a dangerous
practice, especially for girls
traveling alone.
But what if I told you that,
when hitching a ride in
Cuba, you can forget
about wandering down
the side of the highway,
thumb extended, hoping
no cops drive by before a
many Spanish-speaking places,
this could sound almost offensive,
since coger can also mean “to fuck,” and
botella’s dictionary translation is “bottle.”
This is, however, practically prim and proper
compared to coger una gua-gua, the cubanismo
for “catch a bus,” since in Chile, a gua-gua is not
a bus, but a baby.
But I digress…
Traveling en botella has been a common,
popular method of transport for about 10 years,
ever since the fall of the Soviet Union, the
primary economic and political backer of Cuba
since the 1959 Cuban Revolution that ousted
former dictator Fulgencio Batista and brought
communist leader Fidel Castro to power.
Castro declared Cuba a communist state soon
after his rise to the head of government. He
immediately began to impose a series of socialist
reforms, such as land redistribution, health
and education reform, and the imprisonment or
execution of dissenters, causing thousands to
flee the country to Florida. The United States
responded with an embargo on Cuba in 1960
in an attempt to put pressure on its new leader,
breaking diplomatic relations entirely in 1961;
the embargo still remains in place today, and has
had a devastating affect on the Cuban economy,
though Fidel maintains his power.
In response, Cuba became close allies with the
USSR, a powerful socialist nation.
But by 1993, after the Cold War and the sudden
loss of Soviet support, the island, located only 90
miles south of Miami in the Caribbean, had
entered a paralyzing economic crisis. Living
conditions had plummeted; food was
scarce.
Today, the average Cuban makes
a salary of the
peso equivalent of
about $10-20 per
month, no
matter if they
are a waiter or
a surgeon.
Within the ‘socialist’
society,
a growing class of Cubans
who work in the tourist
industry
enjoy access to American dollars
and a higher standard of living
than even the most educated
engineers or doctors. Still, a
precious few Cubans can afford
the luxury of a car, not to mention expensive
gasoline.
So they hitchhike.
My first experience en botella was when,
after several agonizing
hours of staring
at maps of
Havana and
“Say buenos días,” she instructed me.
was cocky.
“Buenos días,” I said through the window.
“This is the autopista, sweetheart,” he told me,
amused at my apparent ignorance. “There are
no traffic lights here. But don’t worry, there’s a
junction right up the way.”
“Ask him if he is headed to 100 ,” she prodded.
th
“Are you maybe going toward 100th?” I asked.
He nodded. By this time, the light had turned
green.
“Get in,” he said. “And don’t slam the door.”
And I was off.
And I arrived by 10.
And from then on, I was working every corner.
Truthfully, I got lucky the first time. Usually, I
was joined by a crowd of botelleras, all in skintight pants, their hips jutted out into the road, a
pouty smile on their lips. I quickly learned to hold
my own, and together, we were a competitive
bunch. We would bend over, peeking into each
open window, smiling flirtatiously at each male
driver, innocently at each female, politely reciting
our “pleases” and our “thank you’s” until we were
beckoned to the front seat, the back seat, the
back of the truck.
I really thought this was the only way. Just be
sweet, be cute, be female, and get a ride.
Luckily for everyone else, I was incorrect in this
assumption. These are not actual criteria, they
mere speed along the process.
I learned this in an almendrón the day I
packed my backpack full of clothes,
books, a camera and a map
and set out for the
discussing
gua-gua and
almendrón routes with
the mother of my house, Vivian,
her son, his girlfriend, and all the
neighbors who happened to pass
by, the group
decided that I was crazy to think
that I would ever make it to the
Botanical Gardens by 10 AM
short of a miracle, that I would have to coger
una botella. It was the only way.
“Maybe I should just pay the $15 for a cab,”
I said. I was trying to save money. I still had
two months to go. I must have looked panicstricken.
“Tranquila,” is all I heard. “It’s easy. Let’s go.”
And Vivian had me by the elbow, had gathered
my things, and we were walking out the door,
down to the corner where the
light had just turned
red. She pointed
to the open window
of a
blue Lada that had
rolled to a slow halt.
autopista, the major highway that
splits Cuba from west to east. I was headed for
the town of Viñales in Pinar del Río, the westernmost province on the island. I needed to get out
of the city, despite my internship obligations, work
schedule, whatever. I needed some fresh air, I
told the taxista, and could he please drop me off
at a good spot along the highway to coger una
botella?
The driver chuckled, asked me if I had a plan.
“Not really,” I told him. “But
I figure if I walk
along for long
enough, someone
will stop and pick
me up.” I was
so confident I
And sure enough, we were rolling up to a crowd
of bored-looking people, sitting, squatting,
standing on the side of the road in a mass of
transience. I was thinking, maybe they should
spread out or something. Less competition.
I paid the taxista his 10 pesos, and as I was
getting out, confused, he pointed to a man in
a yellow suit and told me to “check in with that
guy, he’ll help you get a ride.”
The amarillo, the guy in the yellow suit, took 1
peso for a ticket, then told me to get in line.
It was hot as hell outside, and there I was on
the side of a heat-absorbing, concrete slab of
a road, with cars passing about every 5 or 10
minutes. There must have been 40 people in
front of me in that disorganized mess of a “line.”
I learned a lot in the following 3 hours or so that
I sat, squatted, stood, lurked there, irritated,
moody, bored of people-watching, totally over
the excitement of it all, before a truck finally
pulled up and loaded up with about 20 of us as if
we were a herd of cattle.
I learned that those hitchhiking posts are set up
at major junctions all over the country to help
travelers get a ride to wherever they need to go.
There is an amarillo at each stop whose job is
to flag down all cars or trucks that sport a blue
license plate, which means they are government
workers. These blue-plated cars are required,
according to the Cuban Ministry of Transport, to
stop and give a ride to anyone they have space
for who is headed their way. Sometimes, a
truck will stop and take all who can squeeze
onto its backside; that always gets the line
moving a little quicker.
It’s really a great system,
like required carpooling.
Everyone can get a free
ride. But goddamn!
It takes forever.
What matters
is that I grew,
changed,
learned
important
lessons from
this hitchhiking
variety show I
had starred in,
lessons that made
the rest of my Cuban hitchhiking days faster
and more efficient.
I earned that sure, anyone can get from A to
B in Cuba no matter how broke they are, that
everyone has a fair and equal opportunity to
stand in line, wait their turn, and be served, no
matter what they look like,how much
money they have,
what sex they are.
But for my
purposes, I learned
that all you really
need is to be
sweet, be cute,
and be female. Works every time.
end
OV 15