Wednesday 10th February 2010 - Patchy Information

          Today's quest is to get my Police shoulder patch.  But first, I have to get to the library to check my email.  Actually, I just like sitting in this library, so I don't need much of an excuse.

 

          Then it's off up 78 to Adamsville, to check who has jurisdiction in Glasgow.  City Hall is sure it's not them.  Yes, they know where I'm talking about, that road is, the rest isn't, must be Graysville.  Graysville City Hall is sure it isn't them.  Maybe it's neither, maybe it's just county.  Anyway, says Graysville, we don't have a police department anymore, we're under the county sheriff now.

          This is bad news.  This is Jefferson County, and I already have one (or is it two?) Jefferson County Sheriff's patch from another state.  So I decide I will check with the Adamsville Police Department before I go back to see the sheriff in Birmingham.

          And they are sure.  Yes, it's them.  They want to see my passport, which is as it should be, but then they're pleased to oblige.  The patch is rather grand, and has a representation of the American flag and eagle on it.  It also has a sticker on the back saying it was made in China.  One of the delights of America is that, really, nothing is sacred.

 

          Later that night, on the WiFi crawl, I get caught up in some news stories.  The Birmingham Post is exhorting its readers to support the removal of sales tax from groceries.  They quote some interesting statistics, demonstrating the regressive nature of consumption taxes: the bottom 20% of earners earn, on average, $10,000 per year, and pay 10% of it in tax.  The top 1% earn (if that's the right word) on average $1.2 million, and pay 4% of it in tax.

          But the bingo plot is also thickening, and delivers up an interesting twist: the owner of the biggest casino is a MacGregor (not a Magruder, a MacGregor).  And it's not really the social activity I'm familiar with at all.  It's an electronic version, played on machines rather like fruit machines, allegedly networked.  So it's just an old person's version of texting, with virtual, rather than real company.  And they are all scrapping over the right to tax it.

          Speaking of virtual company, Google, on which I am much dependent for storage and backup of my material, and this blog, and my email, has offered me its new social networking system, Buzz.  I guess it's like Facebook, etc.  It certainly has one characteristic in common with Facebook: I gave it a try, but I couldn't figure out what I was supposed to do.  Anyway, I hear they're going out of fashion.