I think this is disgusting

"St. Pete funeral home pioneers green burial, chemical cremations"

A body is placed in a pressurized drum that holds up to 400 gallons of water. A chemical is added and heated to 350 degrees, then the mixture is circulated through the drum. The body’s soft tissue is dissolved into a liquid, which is washed into the municipal wastewater system.

Just as in a typical cremation, bones are ground into a powder for funeral urns.

Imagine, human bodies being dissolved with a harsh chemical and all of it going into the water supply. What's so "green" about that?

Port Tunnel cutting head prepared for installation

They're boring a tunnel from the Port of Miami directly to the expressway system, so the container trucks don't have to slog through downtown Miami, snarling the traffic.

Why Lucas loves the terrace

I just spotted this lizard (a green anole) in the dracaena out on the terrace. I wanted to get a better shot, but he moved along quickly. The photo below is from the Internet. The dracaena continues to do well in its new pot, by the way. I expect it to send out a new shoot one of these days.

Early Saturday afternoon personal

Got up at 11:00-something and fed the cats. They're awfully quiet today.

TGIF - Vacation begins!

Back to the gym tonight after a lousy nap. I'd shut Lucas out of the bedroom because yesterday he interrupted my nap with his meowing to get out onto the terrace. (He'd never done that before.) Today, even with ear plugs, I could hear him meowing outside the door (whether to get inside the bedroom or out onto the terrace, I don't know). In any case, I felt bad for him since he likes joining me up on the bed for a nap. But eventually he shut up and I got a little rest. (I also had a sweet bus ride home, with nobody poking me in the side.) [See yesterday's post.]

After the nap, Lucas stood by the sliding door, meowing to get out. It just so happens that last night I'd fished an old water pistol out of a drawer and prepared it for deployment in hopes of teaching Lucas a lesson about meowing at the sliding-glass door. Well, lesson learned! (Though it may have to be repeated. We'll see.) We'd bought the water gun expressly for some cat discipline, though I can't remember what the problem was.

Used it on Boozy tonight, also, when he started up with his inexplicable loud bellowing after his dinner. (Worked.) I'll keep the water gun handy from now on.

(I loved the show "My Cat from Hell" but there were only a handful of episodes. Would love to see more. The host is a savvy cat psychologist/musician. I could possibly learn a few things, even as cat-savvy as I am.)

Taking next week off from work as vacation and don't plan on going to the gym either. Monday is Labor Day, a free day off anyway.

Watched a new "Four Weddings" tonight. A South Florida show. Pretty good. My favorite wedding was at the place in Boynton Beach with the Spanish courtyard where the ceremony took place. Classic So. Fla. architecture. Beautiful decorations. The bride did all the planning herself. But the other brides complained of a too-brief ceremony and waiting too long for dinner to be served (course by course) - too much dead time. (Two hours, one bride said - time better spent dancing). That killed it. She came in last. They said the food was good, however, although the passed-around hors d'oeuvres were skimpy. Still, it was a beautiful venue. The wedding on the golf course, with the horse-drawn carriage, came in first. The backyard wedding, with the hour-long downpour, came in second. The hotel wedding at the beach - the most expensive, at $65,000 - third (way too windy). Thank God for one of the brides she had her pashmina...

Now I'm watching "Rat Busters NYC." Has its moments.

By the way, the cat door panel for the slider is supposed to arrive next Tuesday.

'I am not a masochist but the rich must pay more'

Maurice Lévy writing in Monday's Financial Times (article quoted in its entirety):

Like all of us, I have watched in recent days as economists and oracles wail a chorus of lament on every screen, in every newspaper. First came the downgrading of the US credit rating, in effect the downgrading of a nation. Then came the stock market crisis. The same thing would soon happen to France, pundits of all kinds claimed. Our era of prosperity was over. Europe was in decline. We were doomed.

Such talk was intolerable. I have run a company for 23 years; I am accustomed to tough competition and downturns. But I cannot simply accept decline. Yes, our countries have been living beyond our means. The social model of western European societies is not sustainable without strong growth. We are trapped by our handouts and welfare support, and the price is unfeasible budget deficits and mounting debt. But France and Europe also have enormous assets. I believe strongly that we can maintain our rank, economically and in every other way.

So what could I do? I took up a pen and started writing. Just as no French government in the past 35 years has been able to resist running a deficit, with the exception of finance minister Thierry Breton (2005-07), no government has truly reformed our country’s abundant and complex social systems and bureaucracies. They may have made sincere attempts but with the exception of President Nicolas Sarkozy’s reform of pensions and the non-replacement of 50 per cent of civil-servants going into retirement, these efforts have not yielded results.

There is fundamental work to be done that can cut our public deficits and, above all, our government expenditure. Cuts in public spending will be painful and, unfortunately, of necessity much will be borne by the programmes’ target populations: the middle class and less favoured people. It seems to me only fair that the most privileged members of our society should take up a heavier share of this national burden. So I called for an additional tax on the rich. I am not a masochist; I do not love taxes. But right now this is important and just.

As I started to write on this issue, across the Atlantic the Sage of Omaha, Warren Buffett, was writing his own article, on more or less exactly the same point. We had not spoken to each other on the subject; we did not read each others’ drafts. Perhaps even more surprisingly, a number of US business leaders joined his campaign; and in France, a number joined my call. So perhaps the tide has changed, as the wailing pundits claimed; but perhaps the new cycle will not be one of decline but of clear-thinking and solidarity.

Clearly any added taxation of the wealthy should be carefully dosed so as not to discourage entrepreneurial flair and the fair reward of success. Also it should be clear that increasing taxes will not resolve public deficits. Such a tactic would be futile – rather like the daughters of Danaus trying to fill a sieve – and could only encourage greater self-indulgence. A resolution of public finances, in France and across Europe, can only be achieved if we revise our social model and institute vigorous reforms, possibly including privatisations, with the revenue dedicated to debt-reduction. It is because of the inevitable ensuing pain that the privileged should also make an exceptional contribution.

Our countries must become more competitive. In the 1990s, French industry had a 10 per cent competitive advantage over Germany because the cost of labour was lower. Today France’s labour costs exceed Germany’s by 10 per cent. They have been swollen by the 35-hour limit on the work week and the burden of social welfare contributions for programmes such as family subsidies – which would be more fairly funded by the entire population, via sales taxes such as value added tax. There is a long list of reforms needed.

Is this a programme of that dreaded word, rigour? I prefer to talk of vigour. Probity in the running of public funds will set an impressive example for the broader population. If the wealthy can endure higher taxes without complaint, the less privileged may feel able to bear the pain that sharp-edged reforms will entail. I never thought I would find myself saying this, but it is time to increase my share of taxes.

The writer is chairman and chief executive of PublicisGroupe and president of the Association Française des Entreprises Privées

* * *

Lawrence O'Donnell quoted from this on his show tonight, also quoting from Warren Buffett's NYT article of last month on the same topic. (I posted it the day it was published, also in full.) The above article can be found here and contains links.

Thursday night personal

The dudly night for TV these days. Had to take a little nap when I got home, after putting a chicken in the oven. Was unable to snooze on the bus as I normally do, on account of the lanky (and unattractive) person squeezed in next to me, inadvertently elbowing me in the midriff as he was tapping on his smart phone (made worse when the bus would come to a stop). It was almost unbearable. The bus was standing-room-only up to a point, and only on the very last leg of the trip, when I normally stop snoozing so as not to miss my stop, was there room for him to move over, and he did.

Unfortunately I'd been unable to move my briefcase into a position so as to block his elbow from entering my space, and he appeared to be so absorbed in what he was doing on the phone that he was oblivious (or had no feeling in his elbow). Or maybe that kind of thing is acceptable in his home country. Who knows. It was very awkward and annoying. That's my ticklish zone - don't go there.

When the chicken was done, I cut some pieces off to take to work for lunch tomorrow. Will eat that with some leftover artichoke hearts I have marinating in Ken's Lite Northern Italian dressing. Cleaned the cat boxes.

Well, Labor Day (and my week's vacation) kind of crept up on me. Today I realized it's next week. Yea! I need it right about now.

Lucas is pissed at me since I'm not allowing him to hang out on the terrace for hours on end (where the action is these days). Earlier I went out there and called for him to come inside - he was sitting up on the ledge and I wasn't about to go grab him - but he wouldn't budge. So I shut the sliding-glass door on him and turned up the A/C (compressor is out on the terrace and Lucas doesn't like it when it cranks up). Never done that before, but I was pissed. A few minutes later he was down from the ledge and ready to come inside. Little stinker.

I did a Google search for "cat on a ledge" and found these photos from a blog in Toulouse, France. They're from a post titled "Charlie the Cat." The caption reads: "March 31st, 2007: Sneaky cat on a very thin ledge. There's a 6-storey drop from where he's sitting." This is what Lucas does, but the drop is only one storey down to the pool deck. (And he's fallen off a few times.) Hope Charlie's still with us now in 2011.

[Update] Eventually Charlie's owners, Yves and Narelle, moved to a house with a yard, and Charlie was still alive and living comfortably.

"Front of the house, as promised! Also, the park at the front of our residence where Charlie likes to hang out with the other cats."