Follow-Up Post: Chris Brown Pleads Guilty to One Felony Count

In an earlier post, I reported the news of an alleged altercation between rapper Chris Brown and his then-girlfriend, pop singer Rhianna. Allegedly the two of them had gotten into a heated argument while Chris was at the wheel of the car, with Rhianna receiving a black eye, concussion, and several lacerations.

Afterwards, Chris Brown denied the charges. Rhianna has kept a low profile, and reports are that she broke up with Brown and has been cooperating with the police and the Los Angeles District Attorney's Office.

Monday, Brown appeared at his hearing, and it was announced in court that an eleventh hour plea agreement had been reached. Brown pled guilty to assault, which is a felony. He received five years probation, must serve 180 hours of community service, and attend an anger management class. Brown has both a protective and stay-away order, forbidding him to harass, stalk, or come within 50 yards of Rhianna.

The plea was an eleventh hour development, because Rhianna apparently did not know of the agreement, and appeared at the courthouse, for the purpose of testifying at the hearing. Formal sentencing will take place August 5th.

I think Brown (and his attorney) saw the writing on the wall that Rhianna, despite early vacillations, was cooperating with authorities and that if left to a jury, the result may well have resulted in a stiffer sentence, including jail time.

I want to applaud Rhianna for wanting to see this thing through, cooperating with authorities, and finding the strength to be willing to testify against her former paramour. And I think Brown is doing the right thing with the plea barging, and hopes he takes the probation and the conditions of his sentence seriously, and learns something about himself in the process.

Brown's attorney reported that Brown will be performing his community service in his home state of Virginia, to be near his family. And I bet one thing Brown's mama will be serving her son is a big serving of humble pie.

"Customers Should Avoid the Red Line"

Such was the title of the first press release issued shortly after an inbound train stopped at the Takoma Park Metro Station was rear-ended by another train. An understatement, if I've ever heard one.

The following is an exerpt from a subsequent WMATA press release which provides more details:

"This is an incredibly tragic day and our hearts go out to the families of those who suffered fatalities and to those whose loved ones are injured,” said Metro General Manager John Catoe. “We are committed to investigate this accident until we determine why this happened and what must be done to ensure it never happens again.”

Metro officials do not know the cause of the 5 p.m. Monday collision and are not likely to know the cause for several days as the investigation unfolds. Both trains were on the same track headed toward Shady Grove Metrorail station, according to preliminary reports. The female operator was on the trailing train.

What? The "female operator was on the trailing train"?! What the #*$& does that have to do with anything? I could see if it was a drunk operator, or a hopped up on coke operator, but a female operator? I don't see how the gender of the driver had anything to do with anything.

Oh, wait, I get it those female drivers, yeah, right. Maybe she was PMS-ing--you know how hysterical they get "at the time of the month". Or she probably got dumped by her boyfriend, that'll put any female on the edge. Everyone knows men are far better drivers, and this would have never happened if a stable, unemotional male was behind the wheel! Okay, I'm overreacting, but isn't that an odd thing to put in a press release? I'm just sayin'.

I digress and I don't mean to make light of what was really a horrible tragedy. At least six people have died and over 75 people have been critically injured, making this the worst accident in the history of WMATA. Right now there doesn't appear to be any clearcut answer as to the cause for the crash, so it could be anything, including faulty driving, female or not.

I used to work in Silver Spring, which is on the red line, one stop from the Takoma Park station. It is entirely conceivable that former co-workers of mine were on one of the two trains that collided, due to the time of the accident. I am waiting to hear if anyone I know was on the trains, and if so, if they are okay.

I'm really sending my prayers for everyone that was on that train, and according to WMATA, it could have been as many as 1,200 people. Even though it was rush hour, the crash site was near the beginning of the red line, so I am hoping that the number of passengers was less that what they're saying it could be. So in this case I'm hoping that wishing it makes it so...

My House's 15 Minutes of Fame

Two weeks ago I get a call out of the blue from Jodi, a reporter over at the Tribune-Review. She found my profile on Airbnb and told me she's doing a story about people renting out rooms in their house. Sort of a "how people are coping with the recent economic downturn" kind of article.

James Knox from the Trib came over and took this picture of me lookin' smirky, but damn, he made my house look good! All those "Flip this Flippin' House" shows I watch on HGTV and seeing all those staging tips finally paid off! By the way, the wooden tray on the bed was made by my favorite woodworker, Mr. Dad.

Jodi, who if she was 23 she was a day, tried to get all Woodward and Bernstein on me, asking about the six percent tax "that I'm entitled to pay them", which became more of a highlight in the story than I think it needed to be. And she didn't use my best quips, like "my sister has always called this house the bed and breakfast and now it actually is!"

But no matter, all press is good press, right? And I think the published piece turned out pretty good, if I do say so myself. And this weekend I got my first reservation through Airbnb (the rest have been through craigslist) and another for next weekend. As my Mom would say, "Wheee!"

Best Burger Ever. And Goodbye to a Gentle Giant.

I was reading Jorge Garcia's recent blog post about his favorite burger joint, P.J. Clarke's in New York City. Someone commenting on Jorge's blog mentioned that P.J.'s was ranked 21st by Burger Rankings, so of course I had to see if my favorite hamburger place made the list, Pittsburgh's own Tessaro's.

Unfortunately, Tessaro's didn't appear on the listing, so I decided to take a cue from Jorge and wax poetic about my favorite burger.

For the uninitiated, Tessaro's is really a Pittsburgh culinary institution. Tessaro's is co-owned by brother and sister Kelly and Ena Harrington, who bought the restaurant in 1985. Neither one of them had restaurant experience before (Kelly used to be a teacher, Ena a former attorney), but they soon had a successful restaurant with a loyal following.

Tessaro's in a nondescript-looking, narrow storefront tucked into Liberty Avenue in Bloomfield. Inside, a long, shiny wooden bar dominates one side of the room, the other has small tables that seat two and can be combined for larger parties. It's a tight squeeze on the seating side, with the host actually lifting and moving the table so the person (or persons) seated against the wall can actually get to the seat.

Fortunately for all of us, in the mid-1990's, Kelly and Ena bought the rowhouse next door, tore down the connecting firewall between the two buildings, and doubled the floor space. The result is a cozy, dark, bustling place with tin ceilings, dark wood, with the small tables topped with tablecloths made of old, soft denim fabric.

Everything is hardwood grilled, with seafood, kebabs, chicken, and barbeque ribs (just on Thursdays--and Fridays, if there's leftovers) included on the diverse menu. But Tessaro's is really best known for its burgers. Also grilled, the hulking, half-pound burger can be served plain or gussied up with cheddar, dry bleu cheese, sauteed mushrooms or onions, and the more pedestrian lettuce/tomato/onion toppings.

Tessaro's doesn't have a deep fryer, so the usual sides of fries and onion rings aren't offered on the menu. Instead, diners can choose home fries, which are peppered with onions cooked on the flattop, making a crunchy, chewy, and flavorful alternative to fries.

Another restaurant anomoly is Tessaro's lack of desserts on the menu. People who want something sweet after dinner are directed next door to Crazy Mocha, for a piece of cake and an espresso. Desserts just allow people to linger, co-owner Kelly once explained, with lingering meaning fewer table turnovers. And with the line of people to get in often spiraling outside and waits as much as 45 minutes, it was wise of the Harrington's to omit dessert from the menu.

Kelly, a big bear of a guy with shaggy hair and beard, acted as host, manning the postage stamp-sized entrance and spill-over of people outside. Tessaro's doesn't take reservations, and Kelly never took names, and knew most people by sight or by name. When a table became available, he would just give you a beckoning, "come on over" gesture, and corral people over to their tables.

Ena is more diminutive both in size and personality, but she is no shrinking violet: Ena is, in a word, unflappable, and can quiet the loudest drunk with a withering look, one of those "I knew you when you were in diapers/your parents raised you better than that" glares that speaks volumes.

The last time I visited Tessaro's was April 17th with Tim, and Ena was playing hostess. "Finally gave Kelly the night off, huh?" I said to her as we came in. She just rolled her eyes and led us to our table.

What I didn't know at the time was that Kelly had actually been diagnosed with non-Hodgkin's lymphoma. He later had a stroke and passed away on May 11th, just two days after his father, famed prosecutor Dennis Harrington lost his battle with cancer. There was a wonderful tribute to father and son in the Post-Gazette, which is how I learned of Kelly's passing.

Kelly was just 57 and was just one of those guys that you instantly like, a gentleman that was truly a gentle man. He will be missed by many people, and visiting Tessaro's will never be the same without Kelly greeting us at the door.

"My Plane Dove Into the Hudson and All I Got Was This Lousy T-Shirt"

It's hard to believe that you can survive a traumatic experience like a plane crash and then have to worry about how to pay for your medical bills. But that's the current state for many of the passengers of Flight 1549, the USAirways flight that, after having its engines conk out due to flying into a flock of geese, emergency landed in the Hudson River five months ago.

The New York Times is reporting that AIG, the insurance giant that provided the aviation insurance to USAirways, is balking over compensating the survivors of Flight 1549. According to a USAirways spokesperson, all passengers were paid $5,000 for what USAirways calls "their immediate needs"--which in my opinion was a nice gesture of goodwill that they weren't under any obligation to do. And while not mentioned in the article, I think it's safe to say that the airline provided gratis travel to family members of those injured, as well as to fly the survivors to wherever they needed to go. While USAirways got a lot of good press that undoubtedly helped their business, they have acted very decently towards the Flight 1549 survivors.

As the NYT's story points out, making insurance claims in the case of an airplane crash is not as straightforward as a claim on your homeowner's insurance. For example, when the chimney on my house was struck by lightning, I called my insurance carrier, got three quotes, and received a check to make the necessary repairs.

Because in the case of Flight 1549, there was no fault on the part of the pilot or the plane itself: like the thunderbolt that hit my chimney, birds flying into the engines constitute what the insurance industry calls an "act of God".

As the Times story states, "If there is no negligence, then arguably there is no liability, and no obligation [for insurance carrier AIG] to pay claims." So that leaves the passengers with legitimate claims at a bit of a stalemate with AIG. The irony is that if the pilot hadn't landed the plane so expertly and people on board were killed or more severely injured, the victims and the survivor's families would have a better chance of getting money from AIG than what actually happened.

Apparently AIG is telling Flight 1549 passengers to use their own insurance to pay for things like the concussion or broken leg they suffered. But as passenger Tess Sosa points out, there are some injuries that can't be treated with a plaster cast and a band-aid.

Sosa, her husband, and two small children were on the flight (Sosa was sitting with one child, her husband was seated in a different part of the plane with the other), and says that the trauma she experienced and the guilt she feels running towards an exit with her son, leaving her husband and other child behind, haunts her.

Certainly other passengers will be suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder--how could you go through an experience like that and not have some psychological issues about what happened?

These passengers do not strike me as money-grubbing people trying to stick it to AIG. It seems that being compensated for medical bills and subsequent therapy is reasonable. But, as the NYT piece points out, it may take passengers months and maybe years before AIG compensates them for their medical bills for injuries immediately after the crash, and no guarantee of any money for things such as therapy.

I can't help but think that this is AIG's way of figuratively shrugging its shoulders and saying "we're bankrupt, the government has told us to buckle down on our operations, we're simply doing what the government directed us to do."

I don't think that the window of opportunity has closed yet for AIG to do what I think is the right thing to do and provide monetary compensation to the passengers. It's like the old car repair ads of "pay me now or pay me later"--the pay me now is always cheaper than the pay me later, where in this case the passengers are all going to lawyer up (a few of them already have), and file a class action lawsuit. And somehow I have a feeling a jury is not going to believe that AIG doesn't owe these people some money.

"What a Dump!" Indeed

Sometimes free comes with a price, as the Post-Gazette reported in today's story about e-cycling gone awry.

Most electronic products contain heavy metals such as mercury, cadmium, and lead and are considered to be hazardous waste. Because of this, most landfills will not accept these kinds of products as is. The items must first be broken down, and any parts containing hazardous materials must be sent to a place like a smelting facility, where the metals can be melted down and either re-used or properly disposed of.

In today's age of advanced technology that makes many electronic products out of date or obsolete in a shorter amount of time, the amount of electronic waste is increasing at an alarming rate. Two recent developments have escalated the amount of electronic waste: first, updating old CRT computer monitors with new flat-screen models, and replacing old, analog TV's (which will quit working today -- unless you buy a converter box) with wide-screen LCD or plasma TV sets.

As you might imagine, companies have sprung up that dispose of these heaping piles of discarded electronics. While many of them adhere to guidelines set up by the DEP and the EPA, some do not. Two individuals employed by EarthEcycle (founded by a former Allegheny County employee) have blown the whistle on their former employer, claiming that the company collected the discards and dumped them in the lot behind a former car repair place in Homewood.

According to the P-G story, several local charities partnered with EarthEcycle to collect and recycle old electronics. Jeff Nixon, Owner of EarthEcycle, allegedly told these charities that EarthEcyle would collect used electronics, re-sell items that were salvageable, and then properly dispose of the rest. The charities would get a portion of the profits from the sale of the salvageable material. Among the charity participants were the Make-A-Wish Foundation and the Western Pennsylvania Humane Society.

But Raymar Dawson and Jason Ivey, two of the nearly two dozen day workers employed by EarthEcycle, reported a different story: electronics that were never tested, and literally dumped from collection containers to an abandoned lot in Homewood or former Levin's warehouse in Monroeville (photo shown above). Dawson and Ivey, who answered ads on Craigslist, were assured by Nixon that they would be hired on a full-time, permanent basis. However, after being paid cash for wages, the pair were not paid at all for their last two weeks of employment.

And what of the charities? The Western Pennsylvania Humane Society, one of the charities that partnered with EarthEcycle, has received only $10,000 of the $150,000 it says EarthEcycle owes them in donated electronic goods. The Make-A-Wish Foundation reports that it is continuing to collect electronic goods for EarthEcycle, but has not received any monies to date.

Watchdog group BAN initially raised the flag against EarthEcycle, which prompted the EPA and the DEP to look into BAN's allegations. EarthEcycle is now facing charges for violation of hazardous material management regulations for the treatment, management, and exportation of hazardous materials.

Among the charges is that EarthEcycle exported used computer equipment overseas and failed to mark shipping containers and documentation as containing hazardous material; improperly disposing of hazardous material; and failing to notify the EPA that it was exporting the material overseas for re-use.

Nixon and EarthEcycle have 30 days to answer the EPA's charges and must also provide a detailed plan to properly dispose of the electronics it has already collected. Not complying with the EPA's demands may result in penalties levied against EartheCycle of up to $37,000 a day.

This story is doubly sad to me because this was borne out of good intentions by the donors, who wanted to dispose of their electronics responsibly, and the charities, who wanted to do something good for the environment and make some needed revenue in the process.

So what's a person to do with discarded electronics--or other items that need to be re-cycled? The City of Pittsburgh has an excellent web site that provides details on how to recycle everything from your day-to-day trash like aluminum cans to old kitchen appliances and the carpeting you just pulled out from your living room. The city also offers free composting classes, and provides a comprehensive list of all of the things you can recycle.

As far as electronic items go, the 2009 schedule for hard-to-recycle items outlines the different drop off locations. The program is in cooperation with the EPA, and does charge a fee for collecting electronic items. But to me, the fee is small compared to the peace of mind knowing that your cast-offs will be disposed of properly.

Tragedy at the Holocaust Museum

Barely two months after Richard Pawlawski allegedly shot and killed three police officers here in Pittsburgh, it appears that another white supremacist has struck again.

The Associated Press has just released a story about a man who entered the Holocaust Museum in Washington, DC and opened fire into the crowd. Because this just occurred a few hours ago, details are still incomplete. But the AP did report that an individual described as an "elderly gentleman" opened fire into the crowded museum, which receives 1.7 million visitors every year. The assailant, using what was described as a rifle, exchanged gunfire with a museum security guard, and both are in critical condition.

The alleged shooter is James W. von Brunn, 89. Von Brunn was arrested and served more than six years in a federal prison for trying to kidnap members of the Federal Reserve Board. When arrested in 1981, he was found with a knife, gun, and a sawed-off shotgun.

Von Brunn has a web site associated with him that highlights (lowlights?) his book "Kill the Best Gentiles", which he describes as "a carefully documented treatise exposes the JEWS and explains what you must do to protect your White family." Other writings include "Hitler's Worst Mistake" and "Liars, Murderers, Rats, and Thieves," all diatribes against Jews, African-Americans, and other minority groups.

I discovered that the domain name of the website is registered to a Steve Reimink. Reimink, a supporter of presidential candidate Ron Paul, popped up on a number of websites concerning issues about illegal immigrants. Among those was an email to President Bush that said, in part: "We further demand that there not be any amnesty given to illegals, NO free services, no funding, no payments to and for illegal immigrants. We are fed up with the lack of action about this matter and are tired of paying for services to illegals." No word if Reimink was involved, or had knowledge of von Brunn's plans at the Holocaust Museum.

Because this happened in Washington, DC, literally just steps from the White House, that this will be a wake-up call that violence can happen anywhere, and that no one is really safe from people with weapons intending to do harm, all in the name of an extremist belief. I hope that some good can come of this, and that congress will pass gun legislation designed to prevent this from happening again.

I Need A Hug...And Perhaps a Gun

Well, this week just keeps getting better and better, and to paraphrase my friend Lakeisha's catchphrase, I am definitely not feeling the love in the room.

In the "I should have seen this coming" category, the office manager at the CPA firm tells me that "she didn't want to tell me Friday" (why? why?), but "this is our slow time and we don't need you any more." Subtle, huh? Then she said, "you can work the rest of the day (gee thanks, since it's 3:45 and I leave at 5:30), or through tomorrow, or through the rest of the week. Whatever I want."

Whatever I want?! What I wanted was a #*$&#* job from you, not some conciliatory you-can-work-out-the-week making the same temp rate I got 12 years ago. It's still not clear how much longer I will be working beyond tomorrow. My plan is to milk as much time out of them as possible, since I'm now close to--hooray--becoming eligible for unemployment, and the more weeks of work I can rack up, the better.

This experience has taught me a number of things: saying you're a Christian is a helluva lot different than actually being one, don't take anyone at their word, don't agree to anything in return for future compensation, and --when you get mad, don't bring firearms to work.

Although for the last thing, this experience has given me greater insight into why disgruntled workers return to their former places of employment with a shotgun and a whole lot of bad attitude. I've got the attitude, but believe I am showing considerable restraint in not going to the sporting goods store for a gun.

Once I got the news it took me quite a while to email the prospective tenants, realtor, insurance broker, mortgage broker, and home inspector to let them know all bets are off and my home buying plans are on hold. So I can kiss that cute little house in Highland Park goodbye, unless a miracle happens and I get a job before someone comes and scoops up that house. But I'm not holding my breath.

One bright side is that now that I'm amongst the land of the unemployed, that gives me more time to hang out with my slacker friends, chief amongst them Nut Bar and newly-unemployed Tim and Gino (come back to Pittsburgh, we'll have slacker fun, you'll see). Yeah! I see movie days, music and drinking days, laying out in the grass doing nothing days...

This Oasis Was Just a Mirage

Well, my job search continues. While the CPA firm is still in play (I’m still temping there) and as Tim, Nut Bar, my Mother, and everyone else points out, I am working, making money, and there are more positives than drawbacks there. But temping is not getting me a job, and momma needs a job so she can buy that pretty house in Highland Park!

When talks stalled at the CPA firm, I resumed (or rather, amped it up) my job search. And miraculously, I found an oasis in the desert of job searching—literally. It was a program director job at a company called Oasis and sounded suspiciously like what I did at PSVN: managed volunteers, managed programs, did most of the accounting functions, worked with community charity partners, and on and on it went. I wasn’t the only one who saw this déjà vu all over again: a former PSVN volunteer even mailed the job description to me.

It appears that this is one oasis that just merely a mirage. I sent in my resume and the next week got a call from the Executive Director, who asked me when a good time would be to come in. She suggested 3:00 p.m. on Thursday, and when I asked if a later time might be available, she suggested 4:15 p.m. on Friday.

Friday came and I got to Oasis’ office and told the receptionist who I was and why I was here. A disembodied voice called out, “Your interview was yesterday,” and out comes the Executive Director. After I insisted it was Friday and she insisted it was Thursday, we were at a bit of a stalemate. I said I was sorry multiple times. I suggested that we might find another date and time, and she firmly refused. Three times. I wished her well in her candidate search and left.

My being upset and nearly in tears turned to anger, I’d have to admit. My mother will tell you I have the best memory of anyone she knows. I admittedly have more stress going on (aforementioned house and other things I’m afraid I won’t be discussing on a blog) than usual, but after the “hall of shame” bus ride post-non-interview I consulted my notes. There, plain as day, was “Friday” written in, with the time. But these days, that and two bucks will get you a coffee at Starbuck’s.

But as Tim and my Mom pointed out, do I really want to work for someone who doesn’t even allow for the possibility that she might be wrong? I think I’d feel like working with a jail warden who believes all inmates should serve their time and that second chances are not a possibility. My mother called her Cruella Deville, a description I rather like.

So it’s back to hitting the pavement, working at the CPA firm and looking for a job. Keep your fingers crossed that my little house in Highland Park will still be available after this craziness is over.