Author Archives: Jeff C

Overlooking Bogota

_JCE4726

Bogota, Colombia,  just after (above) and just before (below) sunset – from Monserrate, a 10,000 ft mountain just east of downtown.

I spent just 36 hours or so in Bogota before heading west through the Andes. It’s Colombia’s biggest and capital city — with a metro population bigger than Chicago and an elevation higher than Aspen. Bogota has plenty to offer. If you go, plan to stay longer than I did.

_JCE4309

A “protester” (sort of) on Plaza Bolivar (between the Capital and the Supreme Court) in Bogota. Her sign says (I think) “There’s nothing left to say.” Every minute or so she’d just scream “Aaaaaaahhh!” as loud as she could. The capitol police kept a close eye on her and other protesters, but generally let them do their thing.  A statue in the image is Simon Bolivar.

 

In the grid above are views from Monserrate, around Plaza Bolivar and the Catedral Nacional, inside Museo de Oro (Gold); and outside the presidential Palacio Narino.

 

_JCE4285

The central courtyard of Bogota’s Capitolio. The guards were nice enough to let me past the first layer of security to get a few pictures.

The central government square in Bogota is “Plaza Bolivar” — named for 19th Century Latin American hero, Simon Bolivar. He’s credited with liberating from Spain the region of “New Granada” — now Venezuela, Colombia, Peru, Ecuador and Bolivia.  Maybe obvious: “Bolivia” was named after him. Depending on who you believe and how you look at it, it may be a little unclear whether he was benevolently liberating, or if he was attempting his own Napoleon-style conquest. In any case, history has been kind to Bolivar: seemingly every town or city we visited had its own Plaza Bolivar and its own big statue of “El Libertador” himself. (Americans may overlook him, but there are actually prominent Bolivar statues in downtown Paris, in Washington DC, and in New York’s Central Park.) If you see a statue in Colombia and wonder who it is, you can probably win a bet by guessing Bolivar.

A few of the other Plazas (and “estatuas”) Bolivar we encountered, in Salento, Medellin, and Cartegena:

Colombia 2015: Libertad y Orden

Let’s start with the first thing that comes to every American’s mind when you mention the South American nation of Colombia.

_JCE4266-2

In the shadow of Colombia’s Catedral Primada, two Policia Nacional patrol Plaza de Bolivar, between the Colombian Congress and Supreme Court buildings in Bogota.

When I told people I was planning to spend a week or two driving around Colombia, virtually everyone expressed concern about my safety (and sanity). A beautiful tropical country, bisected by the northern Andes and boasting both Caribbean and Pacific coastlines, Colombia seems to be better known for drug cartels, guerilla warfare, and kidnappings. Colombia’s bad reputation was well deserved in the 1990s, but a “Colombian Miracle” has transformed it into a great destination – even if you don’t drink coffee.

Fifteen years ago, Colombia was embroiled in a four-way civil war: the players included communist guerilla groups like the “FARC;” right-wing paramilitary groups that sprung up to oppose the guerillas but took on a terrorist-like life of their own; powerful regional drug cartels (especially Cali and Medellin); and the struggling and outnumbered Colombian military itself. Drug trafficking and violence were the norm. Guerilla and paramilitary groups financed themselves with drugs and kidnapping, while the drug cartels amassed military-like troops and weapons to protect their turf. Colombia was the world’s biggest supplier of cocaine, and huge sections of the country’s roads and territory were out of the government’s control. Millions of Colombians were displaced from their homes. In 1999, the situation was so bad the Colombian government formally ceded vast territories to one of the guerilla groups.

_JCE4865

National Police on a motorcycle, zipping down a side street in Cartegena, Colombia.

But Colombia is in the midst of what some have called the Colombia Miracle, and what almost anyone would call an amazing turnaround. Starting in 1999 and accelerating with the 2002 election of a new get-tough president (Uribe), the Colombian government expanded its police and military forces. The U.S.A. provided money, personnel, weapons, and intelligence assistance. Colombia targeted the drug trade and the guerilla and paramilitary forces, assassinated and captured key leaders, and even had successful “peace talks” with some guerilla and paramilitary groups.

It’s working. The drug cartels have mostly fractured or disappeared. Most of the paramilitary groups have disbanded and disarmed, and the communist guerilla groups are greatly diminished and confined to areas near the Ecuador and Venezuelan borders. Even the guerilla FARC has very recently (just this month) reached a peace agreement with Colombia and claimed that it will stop military training and focus on peaceful means. Drug production is down significantly. In the cities, the police are everywhere and are highly visible (literally so, often in fluorescent yellow-green uniforms), and much of life is back to normal.

_5JC4402

Riot police in Cartegena, Colombia. With these guys around, the risk of an actual riot seemed very low.

Meanwhile – and not coincidentally – the Colombian economy has boomed. Poverty and unemployment levels have plunged; GDP and incomes have soared. Colombia’s highways – though often small and very curvy through the mountains – are in amazingly good shape, thanks to a massive road-construction effort. A mixed blessing of that booming economy is that they’re packed with cargo trucks.

There may be lots of lessons – pro and con – in the Colombia story. The successful strategy had great emphasis on obtaining military and police control, modest efforts at negotiation, and little focus on direct assistance to the 6 million displaced refugee-like Colombians. But the plunge in poverty rates and violence, and rise in incomes may have helped more than direct assistance ever could. The government is reported to have used – unapologetically – some tactics that might make many Americans squeamish (though none worse than their foes were regularly employing). The United States’ financial and military involvement in Colombia’s recovery has been perhaps our most extensive and most successful nation-building exercise in recent history. It’s worth noting, though, that the still-problematic leftist FARC organization was in some ways Colombia’s version of Cuba’s Castro regime (with whom the U.S. is now thawing relations). It’s a complicated world.

The U.S. State Department still has an ominous-sounding travel advisory about Columbia, and did not seem to sanction my chosen itinerary.  But I had a great trip through Colombia – even taking a rental car (with a fellow American buddy) through long sections of remote countryside (from Bogota to Pereira to Medellin and on some tiny side roads through the mountains) that were dangerous FARC and cartel territory not very long ago.  The national tourism board uses a clever slogan that gives a nod to Colombia’s awkward history: “The only risk is wanting to stay.”

_5JC3245

“Libertad y Orden” on the Colombia Coat of Arms. That’s an Andean condor (not an eagle) up on top.

“Libertad y Orden” is Colombia’s official motto; it means “Freedom and Order” (that’s “order” as in “law and order,” presumably). A few years back, Colombians surrounded by a siege of civil and guerilla war had little of either. But in a country now seemingly blanketed with an intimidating but hopefully-benevolent police presence, there is surely much more “order,” and – judging from the bustling streets and highways and from the faces of the people we encountered – there’s apparently much more “libertad,” too.

_5JC3014

 

_5JC3047

_5JC4320

Getting The Band Back Together*

20151024_141043

An old-friends selfy, taken about 10 seconds before we went onto the field for a pregame Alumni Band Boomer Sooner. That’s 1984-86 Drum Major Dondi Cupp in the middle, and Brian Britt on the right. An ace drummer back in the 1980s, Brian is now Director of the Pride of Oklahoma.

It had been 30 years since I played my trumpet in front of 80,000 or so rowdy spectators.  Fortunately, expectations are modest for the Pride of Oklahoma’s Alumni Band homecoming performance.  I hadn’t practiced much, but like anyone who’s ever donned a Pride uniform, I can play “Boomer Sooner” in my sleep, even three decades later.

The Pride had a rough couple of years in 2013 and 2014, with a new Director that turned out to be controversial and short-tenured.  Predictably, the alumni had strong and varied opinions about how best to deal with the situation.  The University’s fairly brilliant solution was to convince my 1980s friend and bandmate, Brian Britt, to come back and take over for good.  Our Pride is in good hands.  So this year’s alumni band homecoming was a one of the biggest (and best, I’m told) ever — a reunion, a reconciliation, and a celebration.  I made it a priority to be there.

J75_4375

The real, current Pride of Oklahoma

The sports pages the next day described the amusement of the alumni band as a perennial hit.  Hopefully, we’re back in a mode where the band alumni make the newspapers only once a year.  Maybe I’ll become a regular, too.

The phrase “Boomer Sooner” is repeated fourteen times in our famous fight song, and the song itself echoes through the stadium dozens of times before, during, and after every game.  But to true Sooners, “Boomer Sooner” never gets old — even if the folks playing it do.  Spending a beautiful fall day on the OU campus is a sure reminder of all the reasons to be proud of the place.  Live on, University!

 

J75_4436.jpgJ75_4309.jpgJ75_4365.jpgJ75_4375.jpgJ75_4534.jpgJ75_4573.jpgJ75_4609.jpg

 

 

J75_4365

The Pride’s student leader — the Drum Major who now does that famous pregame “strut” down the field — is Kyle Mattingly, the son of of two of my old bandmates.  (Sorry about the background:  It’d difficult to do ANYTHING at OU without getting one of the many NATIONAL CHAMPIONSHIP banners in the picture.)

 

A seemingly major breach of stadium security:  If you held a credible-looking musical instrument and wore a crimson polo, you could “march” right onto the sidelines.  Of course I abused the privilege.  That’s me with the Texas Tech “Raider” mascot in the last image.

20151024_142709.jpg20151024_135514.jpg20151024_140340.jpg20151024_141941(1).jpg20151024_142219.jpg

 

20151024_141407

My mobile phone and the relaxed mood actually allowed me a to take a “selfy” in the middle of the field in the seconds before we started.  I felt a little bad for my lack of discipline and decorum until I looked at my photo and saw those two young women behind me who had abandoned their assigned spots to take a picture together.

 

12186672_10206582369070976_6953066781806840907_o

Finally, here’s an image — stolen from a bunch of Facebook shares with my apologies to its uncredited creator — of what we the alumni looked like on the field.  Squint and you’ll see me in the middle of the second row.

 

*This modified Blues Brothers quote had multiple apt meanings in this context.

Superheroes III for Child Advocates of Houston

 

J75_3657

This was year three for the Child Advocates Superhero Run.  This year it was “Presented by” my friends (and founding sponsors of the event) at MRE Consulting, and “Powered by” Houston-based Direct Energy.  The dual title-sponsorship plan was a shameless and transparent ploy to maximize the amount we could raise for the very worthwhile cause.

Thanks to the generosity of those title sponsors and several others (many of whom are friends of mine with an amazing tolerance for having their arms twisted), to hardworking staff and volunteers, and to enthusiastic and well-costumed runners, we’ve raised a total of over $250,000 for Child Advocates in the three years’ events.

J75_4238

I’ve explained my support and commitment for Child Advocates in prior years’ posts (here and here).  I’ll repeat myself a bit here, though, because I want people to hear it.  Child Advocates recruits, trains and supports a small army of about 750 volunteer Advocates, each one generally assigned to a handful of kids in CPS custody.  The Advocates’ primary role is to work with the kids, parents, relatives, neighbors, and counselors to help CPS and the Courts to figure out how to resolve each child’s unique situation and get them — somehow — safely out of CPS custody and into a safe home.  The mission is to break the “cycle” of child abuse — where abused kids too often grow up to be abusive parents.  A relatively-small expenditure at such critical points in those kids’ lives can truly change everything for them.  It’s a great cause. Child Advocates is almost thirty years old, so there are now many thousands of heartwarming stories of how Advocates have changed (and even saved) lives.

J75_3737

J75_3777

J75_3941

J75_3820.jpgJ75_3873.jpgJ75_3538.jpgJ75_3941.jpgJ75_3657.jpgJ75_3679.jpgJ75_3998.jpgJ75_3724.jpgJ75_3737.jpgJ75_3739.jpgJ75_3744.jpgJ75_3777.jpgJ75_3792.jpgJ75_3811.jpgJ75_3851.jpgJ75_3869.jpgJ75_3916.jpgJ75_3922.jpgJ75_3448.jpgJ75_3957.jpgJ75_3961.jpgJ75_3988.jpgJ75_4060.jpgJ75_4123.jpgJ75_4135.jpgJ75_4154.jpgJ75_3991.jpgJ75_4169.jpgJ75_4193.jpgJ75_4204.jpgJ75_4238.jpg

J75_4060

Blythe and Tyler

20151010_173500

Blythe and Tyler, with The Very Reverend Iaian Torrance (Stealth smart-phone picture showing the view from the Proud Uncle’s section at the Huntington Library in San Marino)

 

Life never turns out the way you imagined it, and sometimes that’s a very good thing.  My nephew, Tyler, grew up in Fort Gibson, Oklahoma, and after college he found his way to Chicago to try his hand at improv comedy.  There he met Blythe Haaga, a California girl (a Princeton grad) who’d moved to Chicago for the same reason.  Saturday they got married in Pasadena, California, and they’ve already moved to New York City while Tyler gets a masters degree from Columbia.

 

As Tyler said in his vows, Blythe is smart, she’s pretty, she’s cool, and she’s funny.  And now — maybe best of all — she’s family.

 

J75_2680

Heather and Paul Haaga at the rehearsal dinner. Notice JB and Joyce Cotner (my mom and dad) to the right.

 

Fortunately for all concerned, I was NOT the wedding photographer.  That task was well handled by an actual professional, as you can see HERE.   As you can also see in those pictures, the wedding and reception were spectacular, thanks to Blythe and her parents, Heather and Paul Haaga.

 

The rehearsal dinner had an OKLAHOMA! theme.  Tyler told everyone to dress like they would if they were going to a barbeque where a country band was playing.  Which made sense, because it was essentially a barbecue where a country band was playing.  I didn’t get my camera out ’til the dinner was over.

J75_2737

Blythe with Tyler’s “Pepaw,” Jim Parker of Tamaha, OK.

 

With a little help from our new California friends, Bill and Jana  threw a helluva party.   The band did a fine rendition of Okie From Muskogee — recall that the song contrasts the lifestyles of Oklahomans against that of Californians — except that they sang all the lines in random order.

You know you’re a long ways from Texas or Oklahoma when anyone relies on me to teach them to two-step.

 

J75_2628.jpgJ75_2680.jpgJ75_2698.jpgJ75_2737.jpgJ75_2757.jpgJ75_2799.jpgJ75_2835.jpgJ75_2872.jpgJ75_2955.jpgJ75_3018.jpgJ75_3097.jpgJ75_3119.jpgJ75_3124.jpgJ75_3138.jpgJ75_3146.jpgJ75_3158.jpgJ75_3168.jpgJ75_3170.jpgJ75_3205.jpgJ75_3222.jpgJ75_3233.jpgJ75_3252.jpgJ75_3253.jpgJ75_3265.jpgJ75_3277.jpgJ75_3280.jpgJ75_3285.jpgJ75_3314.jpg

Click HERE for another pageful of pictures from the rehearsal dinner/hoedown.

J75_2835

Blythe and Tyler’s OKLAHOMA-themed rehearsal dinner

J75_3285

Jana (my sister) and Bill Parker

J75_3158

Tyler Parker and Blythe Haaga — now sometimes known as “Mr. & Mrs. Tyler Parker”

J75_2628J75_2544

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It was a busy week.  On Thursday, they paid tribute to their mutual improvisational comedy roots by hosting an improv show with about 25 of their improv-world friends from Chicago, LA, and elsewhere.  It was hilarious.

J75_2590

Some of the comedy was even true or touching (like the story of their second date, where Tyler could not find his car after a Bull’s game and then didn’t have cash for a cab to get them both home).

 

J75_2500.jpgJ75_2506.jpgJ75_2507.jpgJ75_2514.jpgJ75_2521.jpgJ75_2525.jpgJ75_2530.jpgJ75_2537.jpgJ75_2539.jpgJ75_2541.jpgJ75_2544.jpgJ75_2551.jpgJ75_2554.jpgJ75_2557.jpgJ75_2563.jpgJ75_2574.jpgJ75_2578.jpgJ75_2585.jpgJ75_2590.jpgJ75_2592.jpgJ75_2602.jpgJ75_2605.jpgJ75_2613.jpgJ75_2616.jpg

 

J75_3352

Joyce and J.B. Cotner, my mom and dad

 

For me, another highlight of the week was the opportunity to hang out with my Mom and Dad a bit.  They drove their Airstream from eastern Oklahoma to the outskirts of LA, where I met them (after flying into LAX).  Early in the week, we walked the streets of Bakersfield (on Buck Owens Avenue) and then headed for California’s giant Sequoias.  We “lunched” on the beach in Malibu and prowled the Rose Bowl flea market, and they got a taste of big-city Southern California life.  And they sure polished up well for the wedding!  (Yes, that’s J.B. Cotner in a suit; and yes, I tied his tie).

There are also pictures of Jim Parker (Tyler’s other grandpa) above and in the grid below.  Bill Parker (Tyler’s dad) drove him out to LA in Jim’s truck.  I’m pretty sure this is this the furthest and the longest Jim has ever been away from eastern Oklahoma.  He seemed to enjoy it as much as Tyler and Blythe enjoyed having him.

J75_3332.jpgJ75_3362-c57.jpgJ75_3341.jpgJ75_3352.jpgJ75_3373-c41.jpgJ75_2310.jpgJ75_2323-c83.jpgJ75_2373.jpgJ75_2393.jpgJ75_2410.jpgJ75_2458.jpgJ75_2473-c69.jpg

I’m ordinarily not too big on wedding ceremonies.  I’ve threatened my nieces for years that I wouldn’t even come to theirs if they got married before they were 25 or so.  But Tyler and Blythe’s West Coast wedding week was a great experience for all of us, bringing together family (old and new) and friends in ways that few events ever could.  I shed a tear or two seeing my 6’4″ baby nephew shed several as he watched his bride walk up the aisle.  And I glowed with pride as I heard so many people gush about Blythe and Tyler all week long.  Of course we lost of bit of him Saturday, but we gained much more.  Welcome to the family, Blythe!