In today's excerpt - life for men in the American West of the late 1800s was hard. Farming and ranching were high-risk, near subsistence activities, and mining, a predominent activity throughout the West after the California gold rush, was riskier and favored only the very few. For women, it was even more difficult:
"...[I]t
was worse - much worse - for women in mining camps or anywhere else in
the West. A man all by himself in the territories was still
respectable; most women on their own were prostitutes. For them, life's
choices were reduced to a single goal: Attach themselves to men and get
out of the business, or soon grow old and sick and die. In the few fancy
territorial towns like Virginia City, some bordellos were high-class,
with attractive young females available for high dollar prices, and
bouncers on hand to forcibly remove any customer who misbehaved.
"But
in most camps, weary women turned tricks in shabby cribs and regularly
endured violence at the hands of their clients. Many turned to drugs.
Morphine and laudanum were the most popular. A sense of desperation was
pervasive -the suicide rate among frontier prostitutes was always high.
Their one advantage was that, in the Western territories, women were so
scarce as to almost always have some value no matter how battered they
might be. Men who wanted sex on a regular, unpaid basis, and who
yearned for someone to wash their clothes, clean their shacks, cook
their meals, and perhaps bear their children did not have a wide
selection from which to choose. Not all the available women in the West
were practicing prostitutes, but many were. And men looking for wives in
the territories were not always great bargains themselves."
Unfortunately, Atlanta was still racially segregated, and while King had many fans, he also had many enemies. Many whites were upset that King had been honored by the Nobel committee; one of the state’s senators, Herman Talmadge, expressed his dissatisfaction with the honor, wondering aloud why the committee gave a peace prize to a person who promoted lawbreaking. Invitations to the highly exclusive event came back with many more declinations than one would expect. A New York Times report claimed that a well-known (but unidentified) banker in the Atlanta area took to the phones, hoping to convince other whites to abstain from attending the banquet, and certainly, there were others preaching the same message.
As the days ticked by, it looked more and more likely that the Dinkler Plaza Hotel — the site of the gala — was going to be rather empty on the evening of the event. Mayor Ivan Allen realized that such a result would be a stain on the city’s reputation, both immediately and forevermore, and also realized that it could set back the clock on racial relations in Atlanta significantly. He struggled to find a solution, but then, an unlikely hero stepped in.
Mayor Allen and J. Paul Austin, the chairman and CEO of the Coca-Cola Company, called together a meeting of the Atlanta’s business leaders, and Austin threw down the gauntlet. According to the Atlanta Constitution-Journal, Austin told those assembled that “it is embarrassing for Coca-Cola to be located in a city that refuses to honor its Nobel Prize winner. We are an international business. The Coca-Cola Company does not need Atlanta. You all need to decide whether Atlanta needs the Coca-Cola Company.”
They decided. Within two hours, all of the tickets were sold, and interest in the event skyrocketed so much that Martin Luther King, Sr. (yes, the honoree’s father) had trouble getting enough tickets for his own use. The Dinkler Plaza was stuffed to the brim with over 1,500 partygoers, and, perhaps most importantly, the police detail outside had nothing to do. The police were there to combat the hordes of protesters expected to descend upon and disrupt the party — but the threat never materialized.
Patrick,
Hope you had a good time today. We went for a hike up Cypress. Dundarave ride sounds fabulous.
Kjell
PS Three unaccompanied males plus you! My condolences to the Mrs!
Den 9 januari 2012 08:38 skrev Patrick Dunn <pdunn@interchange.ubc.ca>:
Hi Kjell!
Sorry that Jane will not be along but pleased you will be joining us. Bob will be along sans Corinne so with Zircon that makes three unaccompanied males! Anytime after 6:00pm.
Understand about Tuesday's ride. Perhaps we can arrange to meet, at some point, over next little while, on your side of Lions Gate and I'll show you route I've discovered beyond Dundarave. Look forward to catching up week Monday, if not before. Cheers, Patrizzio!
Hi Kjell:
Forgot to mention that given Cora Lee's restricted ambulatoriness, it it probably easier to enjoy a gathering in North Van as opposed to cabin. She had her two toe pins removed yesterday and dottore wants her to spend two more weeks on her walker, no weight bearing yet! See you on Monday. Cheers, Patrizzio!
Have included a recap of Tuesday's ride for your reading pleasure, Dear Reader!
Dear WVLC's:
Here follows a forensic investigation into the dissolution of the peleton, Tuesday, January 10th, with such recommendations as are deemed appropriate for preventing said fragmentation from recurring!
Last Tuesday's ride was a grand outing. Hadn't had a full peleton in ages and a great way to start out the New Year. Couldn't have asked for a better day with its glorious sunshine, glinting off English Bay and the snow capped mountain peaks. However, as everyone well knows, it all went sideways when Ragin' Bull remained on the road shortly after we swooped past Brockton Point Lighthouse. And to further confuse matters, Big Molly and Marcus Aurelius made a pit stop at the restrooms near Lumberman's Arch. I continued along Seawall while Whirlygig and Robo Ray went after Pulitzer Perić, racing towards hill leading to causeway and Lions Gate. By the time I left the Seawall to take the road myself, I could see the leaders rounding the corner at the base of the hill. When I made the same turn, the rabbits were almost at the top of the climb and still no sign of the Full Bladder Boys.
Close to the crest, however, Marcus shot by me and Big Molly was not far behind. He would have zipped by me but had trouble shifting gears. The sound of grinding, tortured metal and exasperated cursing, Dear reader, rent the otherwise bucolic calm of the surroundings. For my part, partially deafened by the shocking din, I proceeded towards the bridge deck and a much disgruntled Burnaboid, still muttering, fussing and fuming about gears, sprockets and derailleur settings, joined me just as we passed under the small road bridge leading to Prospect Point. While we made our way towards Marcus Aurelius, official ride photographer, already waiting at crest to snap us as we approached, Big Molly said that he would stop, mid-bridge, to enjoy view and a sandwich he'd brought along, before turning back to make for a work-related appointment. I said goodbye to Big Al just before we reached Marcus Bourke-White and enjoyed the exhilarating downhill run.
Not sure if the rest of the gang were ahead or not, I proceeded under bridge and towards Park Royal. Still no sign of other riders so I decided to proceed towards Ambleside. [Was to learn later, from Whirlygig:
Ray and I waited for you across from Park Royal and saw that you headed south west to Ambleside while we continued over the bridge. You made no mention of your liaison with the West Van Latte club?]
Short way along, Shutterbug Aurelius caught up and I asked him if he knew what had happened to others. He suspected that they were up ahead but I doubted this to be the case, assuming they would have stopped to wait, at some point, in indeed they had come this far. At any rate, I wanted to proceed to Travers and Marine Drive and we did just that. A jocular, getting-to-know-one-another ride, other than a slight mishap on the No Exit just past 28th and Upper Bellevue where poor Marcus ended up in the hedge after we both misjudged a tight turn, he, bravely, sacrificing his younger, more agile and resilient self to the fall so that my feet remained in my clips. Somewhat of a Pyrrhic gesture, however, as I had already had to re-set my odometer, earlier in the ride, back at the Float Plane Terminal when distracted by Big Molly's incessant chatter we had taken the wrong path past the Convention Centre, though a narrow passageway, with steps, that mandated dismounting, Dear Reader! The psychological agony of having my feet touch the ground, at this easily avoided point, was almost unbearable, as you can well imagine, and my frame of mind was not all improved by the cruel barbs and jests which flooded forth from my churlish riding companions. Insensitive louts all!!!
We completed the jaunt, unscathed, to Marine Drive and then made return trek. I would have liked to go round the Seawall again, once we reached Second Beach but Marcus had promised to meet his cousin by 2:00pm and we were already running a tad late for him to make that time as it was about 1:15pm when we reached Denman. Since he had a $5 voucher for Terra Breads Café in the Olympic Village, he wanted to stop there to pick up a bite to eat and call his cousin to say he would be a few minutes late. Once there, I waved goodbye and made for the Heartbreak Terrace and beyond.
I knew I would need another 10K or so, past home, to log 61k by end of ride, so I determined to accomplish this by riding to Cornwall and Trafalgar, just past Kits Beach Outdoor Pool. A few dipsy-doodles around Kits Point and I had 61.33K on my trusty odometre when back at 1425 Lamey's Mill Road at 2:15pm. A very, very pleasant junket in spite of losing entire peleton en route!!!
When I made it inside, learned from Her Royal Highness that she had been entertaining Ragin' Bull for last hour or. Was also able to put together more pieces of the peleton jigsaw puzzle from Captain Barnacle's email:
"Dečki, (Guys!)
I didn't stop for latte - I just faded … thought you guys were getting even for me pushing the pace over the bridge. Burned me out a bit I'm afraid. Dropped by Pat's, but no one was there so I had to settle for entertaining his lovely better 1/2."
In an earlier message I had invited everyone on ride back to our place for java and a bite to eat, including Robo Rays highly alcoholic Christmas Cake! Not surprisingly, the the cynical Giggster opined, "We know it was all a diversion so you could eat Ray's cake yourself!" Apparently, Ragin' Bull was still too, too fatigued to have a bite of the restorative dessert, so I helped myself to his portion once I was showered and changed! Still, wonderful to see Lads after a bit of a break over hols.
Recommendations:
1) Listen to Il Conduttore, at all times!
2) Don't "peel off" or stop without first making arrangements for a rendezvous point.
3) Listen to Il Conduttore, at all times!
4) Don't distract Il Conduttore at critical points during ride.
5) Listen to Il Conduttore, at all times!
6) Don't execute tight turns without sufficient advance warning to other rider(s).
7) Listen to Il Conduttore, at all times!
8) Listen to Il Conduttore, at all times!
9) In case of an emergency, ALWAYS Listen to Il Conduttore!
NOTE: Recommendations, 1,3,5,7,8 and 9 are the most important, most critical to the well-being and safety of the peleton. Ignore at your risk and peril!!!
Cheers to My Listening Public, Il Conduttore!
Hello Patrizio
Just
to let you know that I collected your bottle of hootch from the sorting
office yesterday and have put it safely in my booze cupboard.
Am
meeting Angela for lunch next Tuesday (after going to a funeral at 10
am of someone I knew when I was 14 - Steve lived in Mill Hill and had
cancer of the spine) so we may well need a snifter after that.
Listening to James Taylor, fire going,
glass of burgundy on the go and waiting for Mike to arrive so we can
watch Black Swan on dvd. Tomorrow is the start of packing - shame we
couldn't meet up this time but guess it won't be too long before you are
here to pick up the remains of your malt!
Lots of love Penny x
Hello Duhlink!
Thanks for malt update! Unfortunately you give me the Steamroller Blues when you pepper references to the quickly draining Laphroaig throughout your message! Sorry to hear about your friend's death, however.
Good luck with packing. Sorry we won't be able to connect this time in Toronto. Hello and best wishes to Heather.
For my part, I have managed a number of cycling outings, in spite of the sub-zero temperatures here, as well as the heavy demands placed upon my shoulders by Her Royal Pain in the Solar Plexus, still operating under restricted ambulatoriness so her demands are becoming increasingly burdensome, not to mention rather tiresome, for all members of the royal household, including the Royal Feline who feels her place in the family hierarchy has been usurped!!!! Cora Lee Regina had her two toe pins removed yesterday and dottore wants her to spend two more weeks on her walker, no weight bearing yet! Since my attentions have been focused on her selfish needs I've barely had time to put fingers to keyboard. I have included a recap of last Tuesday's ride for your reading pleasure while you work on finishing Laphroaig! Should help dull the pain of plowing through entry!!!
We watched Pierre's basketball game, on pay TV, streamed from the Internet and on large screen from laptop, (hook-up courtesy of Ragin' Bull!), last night. (Unfortunately, Thunderwolves lost but play again tonight so hope for a better result!) Flamin' and Sarge were up for dinner. Wonderful casserole by Rosita and salad by Michele! Cheers, Patrizzio!
Thanks for malt update! Unfortunately you give me the Steamroller Blues when you pepper references to the quickly draining Laphroaig throughout your message! Sorry to hear about your friend's death, however.
Good luck with packing. Sorry we won't be able to connect this time in Toronto. Hello and best wishes to Heather.
For my part, I have managed a number of cycling outings, in spite of the sub-zero temperatures here, as well as the heavy demands placed upon my shoulders by Her Royal Pain in the Solar Plexus, still operating under restricted ambulatoriness so her demands are becoming increasingly burdensome, not to mention rather tiresome, for all members of the royal household, including the Royal Feline who feels her place in the family hierarchy has been usurped!!!! Cora Lee Regina had her two toe pins removed yesterday and dottore wants her to spend two more weeks on her walker, no weight bearing yet! Since my attentions have been focused on her selfish needs I've barely had time to put fingers to keyboard. I have included a recap of last Tuesday's ride for your reading pleasure while you work on finishing Laphroaig! Should help dull the pain of plowing through entry!!!
We watched Pierre's basketball game, on pay TV, streamed from the Internet and on large screen from laptop, (hook-up courtesy of Ragin' Bull!), last night. (Unfortunately, Thunderwolves lost but play again tonight so hope for a better result!) Flamin' and Sarge were up for dinner. Wonderful casserole by Rosita and salad by Michele! Cheers, Patrizzio!
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