OK. Prepare for a full-blown rant. Can we fecking get over ourselves? The No. 1 problem in the world is that we have too many people. Breeding is not the ultimate experience. We do not so desperately need children to complete our lives that we pay strangers half way around the globe to carry them to term. This is what set me off:

… [Bobby and Nikki Bains] are part of a burgeoning fertility tourism trade. Cheaper prices, high-quality health care and the availability of donor eggs and surrogates are drawing an increasing number of couples to Thailand, Eastern Europe, Russia, China and India. In the English-speaking world, India has a big advantage because of the availability of English-speaking doctors.

The number of surrogate births in India has more than doubled in the past three years, fertility clinics report. And Indian clinics are performing a growing number of IVF treatments for foreigners frustrated with disappointing results and soaring costs at home. By some counts, the industry brings more than $450 million a year into India.

I really do want to be compassionate towards people who desire children in their lives but who, for whatever reason, can’t. As a society, as humanity, is there any line that we will not cross in this quest?

My Soundtrack: Even If You Don’t by Ween on WOXY.

It’s been a busy few weeks in Wally World: the universe’s source for cheap plastic crap. In our last installment it was Wal Mart caving to pressure to carry Plan B. Now the Bentonvile Behemoth is rethinking its corporate culture and Lee Scott has gone fishing. The corporation wins the town of Yelm a Muzzle award and takes aim at Wal Ocaust.

THE WALMART/BLOGGER EMAILS… Blogger Rob at Say Anything has posted a complete set of his email blogger-correspondence with Wal Mart as a PDF. One of his commenters makes the point that people on the other side get similar emails from unions. We do… Keep reading…

BETTER THAN A COCK FIGHTING RING… My favorite has to be the link under financial services for Marrow-For-Cash. That sounds kind of like college students selling plasma for drinking money. Do you suppose that”s what the Bentonvile Behemoth has in mind for it”s new in-store clinics? Thanks Jonathan…Keep reading…

A MÉNAGE A WAL… Everyone should know I”m no fan of Senator Hillary Rodham Clinton. I lost respect for her and her husband early in his first administration. But I think the people who hate her so much they make themselves sick are reaching too far when they try tar her for being in bed with Sam Walton back in the day…Keep reading…

WHAT JESUS SAID… In a telephone interview with the Los Angeles Times, Andrew Young justified his involvement with Working Families For Wal Mart by saying that All my life I have tried to fight poverty. Jesus told us to feed the hungry, clothe the naked and heal the sick…Keep reading…

EEE EYE EEE EYE OHH… Keep reading…

WALMART.GOV… You knew this was coming didn”t you? There”s a new Uncle Sam in town and he”s selling our troops the cheap plastic crap they need like the ShrapnelResist Fleece Vestie for only $12.99 and the Repellet Water- and Bullet-Proof Umbrella for a low, low $4.92…Keep reading…

WAL MART BANKING GETS PUBLIC HEARING… In an unprecedented move, the Federal Insurance Deposit Corporation will hold the first of two public meetings, Monday, 10 April, to take comments on the Bentonvile Behemoth”s fourth attempt on obtaining permission to operate its own bank…Keep reading…

WAL MART ABANDONS LOCAL ADVERTISING… Following a study last Winter, Wal Mart has decided that advertising in local newspapers is not cost effective. Given the Bentonvile Behemoth”s position on top of the retailing heap, this will be yet another serious blow to the dead-tree media….Keep reading…

FROM SEA TO SHINING SEA… Keep reading…

WAL MART EARNS COUNCIL A MUZZLE… The city council of Yelm, Washington has been honored with a Muzzle award from the Thomas Jefferson Center for the Protection of Free Expression. The Center put Yelm at No. 7 on its list. In the award citation, the Center wrote:..Keep reading…

PROTECTING ITS GOOD NAME… Wal Mart is upset with Charles Smith”s Wal Ocaust. Smith markets t-shirts, mugs and bumper stickers with the logo shown above, as well as others. Personally I have problems with even marginally associating the Bentonvile Behemoth with Nazi Germany…Keep reading…

LIKE US, PLEASE LIKE US… Wal Mart is trying to makeover its image by altering its corporate culture. Someone at the Bentonvile Behemoth has figured out that putting lipstick on a mule give you a mule with lipstick and that only internal change works…Keep reading…

My Soundtrack: Walk In Fire by Doves on WOXY.

I don’t own a cell phone. But I would be tempted — if I could really buy a Toot Tone — to buy a cell phone that didn’t work just so I could whip it out when it was Nature calling. It would be a wonderful bit of societal commentary on the self-important twits who answer their phones in every conceivable inappropriate moment.

If you have a workforce that you think is costing you too much but isn’t working at-will, how do you get rid of it so that you can replace it with a cheaper, compliant workforce? You ratchet up the chicken shit. Now I don’t know if that’s what management at the Milwaukee Star Tribune has in mind, but is sure looks pretty obvious to me.

From this morning’s New York Times:

About a month ago, The Star Tribune in Minneapolis let it be known that, as a cost-cutting effort, free copies of the newspaper would no longer be broadly available around the newsroom.

Instead, the staff was offered an electronic edition of the paper – an exact digital reproduction of the printed version, no less – that they could access online. Those who insisted on seeing the fruits of the their labors in its physical form were told that they could purchase copies for 25 cents, half the retail cost, from boxes around the office.

Strange, right? But it’s still the kind of lame, seneseless action you’d expect from a management type. But then senseless turned ugly.

Last Monday, the going got weirder. Star Tribune reporters who came to work and booted up were greeted by the following message from Steve Alexander, senior vice president for circulation, who had been spending time researching the program’s introduction:

During the first week that the additional on-site racks were in service, 43 percent of the Star Tribunes removed from those racks were not paid for. For the second week the rate was 41 percent. This is called ‘pilferage’ in our business; but put more plainly, it is theft, pure and simple.

Mr. Alexander proceeded apace: Taking more than one newspaper from a rack when you have only inserted enough money for one paper is unacceptable and will not be tolerated. Employees who steal newspapers will put their jobs at risk. There is zero tolerance when it comes to stealing from our company, even if it is a 25-cent newspaper.

Do suppose Alexander (The Barely Competent) is going to post security cameras on the boxes? Hire guards? Clap his hands together in glee as senior reporters who Don’t have to put up with the chicken shit! walk out?

Any bloggers in Milwaukee been contacted about freelancing lately?

My Soundtrack: Blue Skies by The Young Republic on WOXY.

Fables, as instructions to the wise, have probably been around as long as fire. Aesop was not alone in his tellings and the core lessons, as Joseph Campbell discovered, are repeated again and again in all cultures. These five corporate fables were passed along to me by my dad. My favorite is No. 2. What’s yours?

Corporate Lesson 1:

A man is getting into the shower just as his wife is finishing up her shower when the doorbell rings. The wife quickly wraps herself in a towel and runs downstairs. When she opens the door, there stands Bob, the next door neighbor. Before she says a word, Bob says, “I’ll give you $800 to drop that towel.” After thinking for a moment, the woman drops her towel and stands naked in front of Bob. After a few seconds, Bob hands her $800 dollars and leaves. The woman wraps back up in the towel and goes back upstairs. When she gets to the bathroom, her husband asks, “Who was that?” “It was Bob the next door neighbor,” she replies. “Great!” the husband says, “Did he say anything about the $800 he owes me?”

Moral of the story: If you share critical information pertaining to credit and risk with your shareholders in time, you may be in a position to prevent avoidable exposure.

Keep reading…

My Soundtrack: Drunkship Of Lanterns by The Mars Volta on WOXY.

The first of May is the Communist party’s traditional day of celebration for workers. So, I think the timing on this is bad, and the results could be disasterous. Rep. F. James Sensenbrenner Jr.’s (R-Wis.), HR 4437 is a lightning rod and organizers are calling for a national for a nationwide boycott of work, school and commerce on May 1.

From The Los Angeles Times:

I don’t think we will crumble the economy of the United States on May 1, but we will make a dent, said New York City Councilman Charles Barron, among those supporting the initiative that was announced on the steps of City Hall.

[Snip.]

The coalition of immigration rights groups aims to stop a proposed U.S. law that would make residing in the United States without papers a felony and require building a tall fence along the U.S.-Mexico border.

They are calling on immigrant workers, elected officials, labor unions and churches to take back May Day, a public holiday in much of the world but not in the United States, where the international labor day has its origins.

Many years ago I remember a series of commercials for a company that had its fingers in many, many pies. I can’t recall the name of the company — the tag line was We’re XYZ company — but I do recall what a disaster it was.

People who had never heard of the company we’re shocked by the apparent octupuss-like intrusion of this unknown corporate giant. It may have been the first time that people became aware of how American corporations where sucking up everything.

I think this recent explosion of pro-immigration marches may have something of the same effect. Americans who before only had a vague knowledge of illegal immigrants are suddenly faced with hundreds of thousands of supporters marching in the streets. And I’m betting the images are scaring the shit out of them.

What I expect a successful march on Monday, 1 May, will do is galvanize the the anti-immigrant feelings in this country in a way that Pat Buchanon has never been able to do. I don’t think organizers are prepared for the kind of backlash this event is going to create.

The Washington Post wades in on the whether or not a march is a good thing.

My Soundtrack: Razzmatazz by Pulp on WOXY.

Jeff Jarvis offers Ellen Foley, editor of the Wisconsin State Journal, eight ways to listen to the community it serves. I am struck more and more with how our culture has become fixated on telling and not listening, on delivering the word and not taking the time to have a conversation. What ways to listen would you add to Jarvis’ list?

Read local blogs.

Hire local bloggers to help cover the community.

Start a forum asking what you”re not covering.

Let people vote on beats, not just stories.

Hold Meetups.

Webcast your news meetings so people can have more input than voting on one story.

Start a Digg edition.

Go Digg one better and create the means where people can vote on the stories they think you should cover.

Here’s one of mine: on a constantly rotating basis, pair your ombudsman with local bloggers. Give each blogger one-week in the position and have them both address community concerns.

My Soundtrack: Someone Like Me by Royksopp on WOXY.

Even the skilled journalists at the Associated Press can’t get it right. Last week I wrote about how a couple of delusional scam artists were telling lies for profit about Dan Brown’s novel The Da Vinci Code. Now Opus Dei (not the penguin) wants a piece of the movie coming out this week. I can understand Opus Dei getting it wrong, but the AP?

The Da Vinci Code contends that Jesus married Mary Magdalene and had descendants, and that Opus Dei and the Catholic Church were at the center of a cover up.

No. It doesn’t. Novels, works of fiction, don’t contend anything, they tell a story.

What does Opus Dei want?

The conservative religious group Opus Dei has asked for a disclaimer on the upcoming film based on the best-selling novel The Da Vinci Code.

Opus Dei, portrayed as a murderous, power-hungry sect in the novel by Dan Brown, wrote in an April 6 letter to Sony Corp. that a disclaimer would show respect to Jesus and to the Catholic Church.

Any such decision by Sony would be a gesture of respect toward the figure of Jesus, to the history of the Church and to the religious beliefs of viewers, Opus Dei wrote in the letter, which was posted on its Italian Web site.

It has long been the custom in fiction to use the disclaimer that all those portrayed in a book are fictional and any resemblance to persons was coincidental. I don’t suppose that such a disclaimer would hurt on the movie.

My Soundtrack: Keys To The World by Richard Ashcroft on WOXY.

The religious wrong Christianists just won’t let go. These people are so desiccated and shriveled that they have no idea what parody is and why it is important in civil discourse (kind of like Wal Mart). Bobby Henderson’s Flying Spaghetti Monster was not looked upon kindly by State Board of Education member Connie Morris.

According to the The Wichita Eagle:

State Board of Education member Connie Morris took exception Wednesday to a picture of a made-up creature that satirizes the state’s new science standards hanging on a Stucky Middle School teacher’s door. Fellow board member Sue Gamble told The Eagle that Morris asked for the picture to be removed.

To the credit of the staff and administration of Stucky Middle School, his Noodliness is still on the door.

My Soundtrack: Misadventures Of Dope by Deadboy & The Elephantmen on WOXY.

I know I’m probably going to have a really bad week for saying this, but retired generals John Batiste, Charles H. Swannack Jr., Gregory S. Newbold and Paul D. Eaton should not be calling for the resignation of Secretary of Defense Donald Rumsfeld. I do think that Rumsfeld should resign, but then I think the whole administration should resign.

Why should the retired generals, now private citizens, be muzzled? For the same reason that I don’t think members of Congress should go from the floor of the house or senate to K Street. Who you were yesterday carries a lot of weight today and in this country the military is subservient to elected government, not the other way around.

There will be a lot of Democratic candidates this fall who have come out of the Iragi experience and who are mad as hell. That they are running for office is admirable. It’s what we do in this country. But if they’re running on what they did in Iraq instead of what they think government should do in all areas of public discourse, then they don’t deserve to be elected.

Douglas McArthur thought he could throw his weight around and tell President Harry S Truman how to conduct the Korean War. Truman fired his ass and when McArthur tried to leverage his military experience in politics, Truman stuffed that corncob pipe down McArthur’s throat.

In my America, that’s the way it should be.

My Soundtrack: Rodeo Clowns by G. Love & Special Sauce on WOXY.

As a premium for my subscription to Salon, I started getting Rolling Stone again. I haven’t read it since I was in the Navy in the ’70s. Last night I read a story from the National Desk (where Hunter S. Thompson cut his teeth) by Matt Taibbi that hooked me from the lede. If you want to really know Jack Abramoff, check it out.

Here’s how Taibbi sets out:

So this is it, finally. By the time this magazine hits the newsstands, Jack Abramoff — right-wing megalobbyist and great feckless shitwad of our new American century — will be but a tick of the geological clock away from The End. There will be no rack, no stoning, no scorpion-filled sand pit, no bucket of fire ants. Just a sanitary plea agreement and a single blow of the gavel, and Casino Jack Abramoff will disappear for a few years of weightlifting and Talmudic study…

At the other end Taibbi nails Abramoff’s story:

And when Jack Abramoff hears his sentence, ours will certainly be made plain soon after. Jack Abramoff was the Patient Zero of Washington corruption. He’s the girl at school that everyone got a piece of, including two janitors in their forties. It strains all credulity to think that he’s been talking to the Department of Justice for months and yet prosecutors still have to encircle a lone congressman, Bob Ney, as has been reported. If Ney is the big target the government made a deal with Abramoff for, we’ll know we’ve been had again.

If you’re venal and cunning enough, like him, you can do it, says [Rep. Louise] Slaughter [(D-NY)], when asked if the American system has become easy to beat. But [Abramoff] had a lot of help.

No doubt.

My Soundtrack: We All Lose One Another by Jason Collett on WOXY.

These are reportedly from high school students, but I’ve seem many as bad, and sometimes worse that these efforts to grasp new imagery. Some of them do work; and I’d much rather see a bad metaphor or analogy than I would read yet another cliché. What images have you read lately that gripped you? Thanks dad.

Her face was a perfect oval, like a circle that had its two sides gently compressed by a Thigh Master.

His thoughts tumbled in his head, making and breaking alliances like underpants in a dryer without Cling Free.

He spoke with the wisdom that can only come from experience, like a guy who went blind because he looked at a solar eclipse without one of those boxes with a pinhole in it and now goes around the country speaking at high schools about the dangers of looking at a solar eclipse without one of those boxes with a pinhole in it.

She grew on him like she was a colony of E.coli and he was room-temperature Canadian beef.

She had a deep throaty, genuine laugh, like that sound a dog makes just before he throws up.

Her vocabulary was as bad as, like, whatever.

He was as tall as a six-foot-three-inch tree.

The revelation that his marriage of 30 years had disintegrated because of his wife’s infidelity came as a rude shock, like a surcharge at a formerly surcharge-free ATM.

The little boat gently drifted across the pond exactly the way a bowling ball wouldn’t. (This one is a steal from Douglas Adams.)

McBride fell 12 stories, hitting the pavement like a Hefty bag filled with vegetable soup. (I really like this one. But then I’m a sick, twisted feck.)

From the attic came an unearthly howl. The whole scene had an eerie, surreal quality, like when you’re on vacation in another city and Jeopardy comes on at 7:00 p.m. instead of 7:30.

Her hair glistened in the rain like a nose hair after a sneeze.

The hailstones leaped from the pavement, just like maggots when you fry them in hot grease.

Long separated by cruel fate, the star-crossed lovers raced across the grassy field toward each other like two freight trains, one having left Cleveland at 6:36 p.m. traveling at 55 mph, the other from Topeka at 4:19 p.m. at a speed of 35 mph.

they lived in a typical suburban neighborhood with picket fences that resembled Nancy Kerrigan’s teeth.

John and Mary had never met. They were like two hummingbirds who had also never met.

He fell for her like his heart was a mob informant and she was the East River.

Even in his last years, Grandpappy had a mind like a steel trap, only one that had been left out so long, it had rusted shut.

Shots rang out, as shots are wont to do.

The plan was simple, like my brother-in-law Phil. But, unlike Phil, this plan just might work.

The young fighter had a hungry look, the kind you get from not eating for a while.

He was as lame as a duck. Not The metaphorical lame duck, either, but a real duck that was actually lame, maybe from stepping on a land mine or something.

The ballerina raised gracefully en pointe and extended one slender leg behind her, like a dog at a fire hydrant.

It was an American tradition, like fathers chasing kids around with power tools.

He was deeply in love. When she spoke, he thought he heard bells, as if she were a garbage truck backing up.

Her eyes were like limpid pools, only they had forgotten to put in any pH cleanser.

She walked into my office like a centipede with 98 missing legs.

It hurt the way your tongue hurts after you accidentally staple it to the wall.

OK, it’s 0752, can I get a double, hold the ice please?

My Soundtrack: My Old Man by The Walkmen on WOXY.

Sometimes you need to be absurb to clearly illuminate an absurdity. The idea that of Just Say No! is one of those absurdities. I wear a seatbelt and I did use proper equipment when I was a rock climber, but even if you might live longer staying in your bedroom with the blinds pulled, would you want to? Thanks to I See Invisible People.

My dad passed an email along to me that he recived from the delusional scam artist Donald E. Wildmon, founder and chairman of the American Family Association. Why do I call him a delusional scam artist? Because Wildmon doesn’t hesitate to use bald-face lies to steal more pieces of silver from the ignorant and weak minded. Here’s his lie:

On May 19, a blockbuster movie — The Da Vinci Code — will open in theaters. The book has sold nearly 40,000,000 copies. The book and movie make several false claims:

Jesus and Mary Magdalene were man and wife.
The New Testament is false testimony.
There were 80 gospel accounts of Christ’s life.
The Roman emperor Constantine gave us the New Testament.
The divinity of Jesus is an invention of fourth-century church leaders at the Council of Nicea.

While the book and movie claim to be based on fact, they clearly are not. Tragically many people, even Christians, will go away believing the book and movie are factual.

Now, I don’t particularly care for Dan Brown’s writing, but I won’t take anything away from him for producing a monster-selling novel. Now does Wildom know that a novel is a work of fiction? Of course he does. But he also knows that he can’t fleece the flock by telling people that a work of fiction says things that aren’t true.

Wildmon and co-delusional scam artist James Kennedy want people to shell out $25 for a copy of Kennedy’s 60-minute DVD The Da Vinci Delusion, which, I’m quite sure, goes point-for-point a proves that the stuff that Brown made up and published as a work of fiction isn’t true.

Do you suppose these guys have ever bothered to read a novel? Or do they hold to the theory that the only book that anyone should ever read is their personally vetted translation of the Bible?

The sad thing is that they’ll sell videos and people will become irate and call for the banning of The Da Vinci Code from school and public libraries, and they’ll picket outside movie theaters and all because people are afraid that one work of fiction somehow diminishes their work of fiction.

My Soundtrack: Intensify by !!! on WOXY.

Too many of us remain fixated on the U.S. death toll in Iraq and ignore the greater numbers of wounded and maimed soldiers and civilians that now reach high into the tens of thousands. If the war stopped today our nations would still face several generations of maimed and traumitized victims. We will all pay the butcher’s bill.

From Baldwin-Wallice College comes Eyes Wide Open with additonal speakers:

On Tuesday, 18 April in Strosacker College Union’s Grindstone Room —

Dr. Thomas C. Sutton, Professor, Political Science: The War in Iraq: A Cost-Benefit Analysis, noon.

Dr. Michael D. Dwyer, Professor, Psychology and the students of Psy 262: Seminar on the Neuropsychological Development of the Child and The Traumatogenic Effects of War on Children”s Brains, 4 p.m.

On Wednesday, 19 April in Strosacker College Union’s Grindstone Room —

Dr. Alan Kolp, Professor and Moll Chair, Religion: Peace-Making in a Time of War, noon.

Professor Charles Burke, Chair & Professor, Political Science: Boots in Iraq, 4 p.m.

And a special presentation in Sandston III:

Rosemary Palmer and Paul Schroeder — parents of Marine Lance Corperal Edward “Augie” Schroeder who was killed in Iraq last summer — A Million Miles Away From Home, 6:30 p.m.

The exhibiti is sponsored by the David Brain Leadership Program and Theta Alpha Phi. For more info, please contact Tiffany Hansbrough 440-826-2250 thansbro@bw.edu or Julie Candela 440-826-2130 jcandela@bw.edu

My Soundtrack: Even Ghost Time Can’t Stop Wagner by 90 Gay Men on WOXY.

Pete Hamill is one of my favorite non-fiction writers. I first discovered him in Esquire and have followed his writings since. This morning Andrew Sullivan has found a piece of Mr. Hamill’s writing* first published in Letras Libres that is prescient. Sulliven writes: I didn’t see it coming. But it behooves me to acknowledge those who did. Ah mein.

[W]e should be prepared for armed melodrama. Bush is not a worldly man. His father was head of the CIA, ambassador to China, and president of the United States. The son stayed home. During the Vietnam War, he hurried into the Texas National Guard, defending the skies over Houston. He has visited only two foreign countries, one of them Mexico (the other seems to have slipped his mind). He was the first presidential candidate in memory who needed briefings about geography.

But he knows where Iraq is, and is completely aware of what his father failed to do in that country: remove Saddam Hussein. A son in rivalry with a father can be a very dangerous man. To show “leadership”, the new President Bush might defy the European allies of the United States, and risk another oil crisis, by seizing on some slight — real or imagined — to finish off Saddam Hussein. He would thus force his father to admire him and get a boost in the public opinion polls.

*Navigating the website is confusing: click on journalism and then politics to find the article.

My Soundtrack: True Skool by Coldcut on WOXY.

A Daily Dish reader provides a perspective that Americans need to get a grip on. We’re all immigrants. How our ancestors got here wasn’t always on the up-and-up. He also offers an interesting take on how the Republican party — Enterprisers, Social Conservatives and Pro-Government Conservatives — is wrestling with the immigration.

I am descended (as are thousands of other Americans) from an illegal immigrant named Moses Cleaveland. According to the family history, his activities on behalf of Mr. Cromwell made him unpopular with the authorities and he could not get permission to come to America. He stowed away on a ship. Moses Jr, who spelled his name slightly differently, founded the city of Cleveland, OH.

Another one of his descendants, Grover Cleveland, was President of the United States. I have a more recent ancestor that was forced into Napoleon’s army. He escaped illegally to America, and avoided dying like his friends in the invasion of Russia. A more upright and law-abiding family than the one he started could not be found.

Most of the illustrious Puritan ministers could not get permission to come. They bought tickets in other people’s names, traveled supposedly separately from their families, often with disguises. George Bush himself is descended from at least one of these illegal immigrants, as are most people with colonial New England ancestry.

Before we mistreat illegal aliens, we need to look in the mirror.

My Soundtrack: There Is No Ending by Arab Strap on WOXY.

The comet was still hanging in the sky
that year at Pesach, and of course
the full moon, as every year.

After the bulk of the seder, after
the long rich redolent meal, we all
went out on the road walking away

from the house whose lights we had
dimmed. There on the velvet playing
field of night we saw the moon rolling

toward us like a limestone millwheel
the whole sky pouring to fill our heads
a little drunk with the sweet wine

so that the stars sank in with a whisper
like a havdalah candle doused in wine
giving a little electric buzz to the brain.

Then we saw it, the comet like the mane
of a white lion, something holy to mark
this one more Passover with all of us

together, my old commune mates, friends
from here and the city, children I have known
since birth, all standing with our faces turned

up like pale sunflowers to the icy fire.
Then we went back to the house, drank
the last cup and sang till we were hoarse.

From Colors Passing Through Us by Marge Piercy.

For an extra treat, The Borzoi Reader this morning offers a pod cast of Ms. Piercy reading: The Good Old Days at Home Sweet Home.

When a poltical candidate is able to poke fun at themself it’s a good sign. Matt Groening might have a problem with this, but I’m sure the man who wants us to hire him as the people’s lawyer, Subodh Chandra, has considered that. And if not, maybe Mr. Nahasapeemapetilon will put in a good word. Thanks to Redhorse for the catch.