Each coastal county has dipped into the money pot being offered to help with outreach. This means the outside interests trying to control access to our state waters can point back and say they had full stakeholder participation.

Sure, they say that, until you send in a comment to their web site ( This e-mail address is being protected from spam bots, you need JavaScript enabled to view it ) their auto reply is “The MLPA Initiative is not a state regulatory or administrative process, and is not required to post, summarize or respond to comments.”

So, if it is not a state regulatory or administrative process, why does the Web site get state (ca.gov) domain usage? Why? Because these private groups have bought your state government.

Our local representatives have been buried by an insanely short timeline and threatened with massive area closures if they do not stay at the table. Our state representatives say that they are helpless because of the memorandum of understanding signed by our governor. So we are stuck going along with these outside interests.

And if you happen to be looking out to sea, there’s an additional light show courtesy of fishing boats as their crews continue to pull up pots full of plump crabs.

No apologies here for hitting the crab story hard last week, with three front-page centerpieces. It’s a bumper crop and the harbor is buzzing. This week we’ll try to tell you more about how to enjoy the fresh catch, starting with the publisher’s take on crab cakes in today’s Neighbors section.

Frankly, I have a hard time getting over how fortunate I feel to have landed in a place where the big story is The Catch. When reporter Kurt Madar checked out the bustling nocturnal scene at the harbor last week, he brought home the story in more ways than one: As he drove away, two crabs were still fighting it out in his trunk.

The Triplicate’s Rick Postal was second in line to buy fresh crab on opening day. The guy in front turned around with his purchase and asked if he should put it on ice. “How far are you going?” Postal asked. “Napa,” the guy replied.

He ended up wrapping his crab and some ice in his jacket for the long ride home, then displayed an additional bit of naivete when Postal plunked down a little extra money and asked that his crab be cleaned.

“The backs come off?” Mr. Wine Country asked as the process unfolded. Hope he made it home OK.

LATEST POLL NUMBERS

This is what Crescent City’s harbor needed.

Big, plump crabs piling up in numbers that haven’t been seen for years.

If you weren’t on the sidewalk on that gray Wed­nes­day morning, you missed a short but inspiring show. Even though Nov. 11 is the anniversary of the cessation of hostilities on the Western Front in World War I, our WWII veterans were the parade grand marshals. When the procession ended, they were honored during a brief ceremony outside Memorial Hall.

Attendance was good at a dinner in the hall that night to honor veterans, but the organizers would have liked to see more spectators along the parade route. While the gloomy weather was no doubt partly to blame, they discussed what besides sunshine might bring out more folks next year.

They’d like to hear suggestions from the public. After all, these are our veterans. How can we best honor them on the day the nation has set aside for that purpose? Were the events adequately publicized? Should the parade route change? Could the procession attract more entries?

Send your suggestions to Duane “Sparky” Countess by email at This e-mail address is being protected from spam bots, you need JavaScript enabled to view it or call 464-7471.

Decades of ignoring power allows that power to transform into something unrecognizable. Each new group comes along, with a few old members left to guide them and teach them. Next thing you know, the new members are covering for the mistakes of past members, and a new branch of corruption is formed. One hallmark of a corrupt government is an apathetic populace. They blindly trust the leadership they voted for to represent them and don’t ask questions.

Another hallmark of corruption is a stenographic media that does not investigate claims made by governing officials. Instead of reporting on discrepancies, or claims filed with the state for falsified payroll and non-payment of overtime at the sewer project, the focus of the reporting has been on me and has proven to be an effective distraction from the facts. I may sell a lot of papers, but the people of this city are not being informed. Why can’t truth sell papers? I think it could if it were given a fair chance. People truly want to know what their leadership is doing, how it affects their lives.

One truth that never made it mainstream is what brought me to my fight against corruption in City Hall. When I went in to count the Prop 218. protest votes in ’07, red flags went up after discovering the first 100 votes that were not counted by our former city clerk, Dianne Nickerson. That was just an indicator. When we passed 200 votes not counted, that was a pattern. And that’s just the ones we know about. While the claim is made that the missing votes were not enough to change the result, the very fact that there were such large discrepancies shows the whole voting process as suspect. We deserved fairness. They just wanted us to go away, but I couldn’t leave it alone with all the unanswered questions.

A great songwriter named Carole King once wrote, “Sometimes you win, sometimes you lose. And each time you choose between the two.”  As long as I’ve known him, Bedsworth, who doubles as presiding justice on the Fourth District Court of Appeals and a goal judge for the Anaheim Ducks, has made a third career out of inspiring the folks around him to make lemonade out of life’s lemons, as he calls it. And therein lies my thought this Thanksgiving.

Awhile back, I awoke to a howling wind and driving rain. The heater was broken and I uttered some coarse words upon exiting the shower.  Looking at a long day in court, I walked out only to find my left rear tire flatter than the Rams’ offense. Jammed for time and the spare dumbly left in a friend’s garage, more soap-worthy language spewed.

I recalled someone saying how good the people at Les Schwab were about backing their tires, so I called. A kind voice apologized, saying it would take almost 20 minutes for them to get there with assistance. I hung up the phone, reverting to the vernacular of my Carolina dockworker past.

I made a few apology calls and began walking to the courthouse only to run into a Les Schwab tow vehicle, which had arrived in less than 20 minutes. The driver refused to accept any pay or a tip.

Fifteen minutes later, I was crossing 5th Street when the wind ate my new umbrella, sending me back into grudge mode, cursing this place, its mercurial weather and cultural dearth — only to run head-on into my friend, resident curmudgeon and law librarian extraordinaire, Dick Edgar, who never fails to lift my spirit with his love of civil liberties, great music and storage of revered quotes of everything from Sir Thomas More to William O. Douglas to Bob Dylan.

Better yet, this silent majority will have the opportunity to speak volumes — about the travesty a small group of marauders in our midst are attempting in an effort to plunder democracy — by stopping a special election attempt at the city level.

Refuse to sign the petition for a recall on two City Council members, Kathryn Murray and Charles Slert.

Who is this silent majority? It is you, the good citizens of Crescent City. The people who pay taxes, take your children to school, sports activities, go to work every day, and give to your community in a hundred different ways.

What nerve! Now we have to reposition our spotting scope!

In fact, it was a favorite parking spot of a Triplicate reporter until we started laying down the smack talk. He informed us, quite accurately, that he was enjoying a public viewpoint. And he went so far as to point out that we could go upstairs if we wanted an uninhibited angle on the sea.

Then he quit parking there.

We didn’t feel guilty. We usually have a wave and a smile for folks who happen to look inland and notice us in the window. If we’re already in the front yard, friendly chats sometimes ensue. Often the visitors are from far away and have just happened upon Pebble Beach Drive, despite the lack of signage leading to one of Crescent City’s signature attractions.

And occasionally, they’re having a peak experience like catching a full-blown sunset over the Pacific with stately Castle Rock in attendance.

How could we begrudge people this kind of beauty, even if they are parked in front of the house? Then again, if they just pulled forward about 10 feet …