On March 4, 2023, at approximately
3:15 p.m., EPD’s Communication Center received a call from a
citizen in McKinleyville stating they had located the suspect
vehicle. The vehicle was parked in an open parking lot and was
unoccupied at the time of the call. EPD requested the assistance of
the California Highway Patrol who responded to the scene to secure
the vehicle. An EPD officer and two detectives were dispatched to
the location and took over the investigation. Upon their arrival
they confirmed this was the vehicle involved in the collision.
As
detectives processed the vehicle, they were contacted by the
vehicle’s owner. An interview was conducted with the owner, Jose
Guzman Jimenez, 53 years old from Eureka, which revealed he was the
driver of the vehicle at the time of the collision.
Jose
Guzman was placed under arrest and transported and booked at the
Humboldt County Jail for a violation of felony hit and run involving
a death. This is still an ongoing investigation and we are asking
for any witnesses to the collision to contact the Eureka Police
Department.
The
Eureka Police Department would like to thank the observant citizen
who located the vehicle and the California Highway Patrol for their
assistance with this investigation.
Markets
can remain irrational longer than you can remain solvent.
—
John Maynard Keynes
###
The
best way to make money is to die. That’s because, as financial
advisor Adam Fayed puts it, “The dead aren’t watching CNBC and
worried about the latest thing which can rock markets…They don’t
panic if markets crash, or try to predict the next crash. And they
don’t allow bias to affect investing.” If you want to succeed
financially, die, Or, failing that, leave your investments alone.
Whether you’re tempted to get in or out of the market, or change
your strategy, or cash out and move to Panama, or hire an investment
manager whose expertise must surely outmatch yours…don’t.
Usually
in life, knowledge is power. When we fail, we probably didn’t do
our homework first, or we based our decisions on emotions, not data.
That is, we were coming at a problem with a lack of knowledge. The
world of investing is different. Knowledge (assuming it’s not
illegal insider knowledge) works against success. As an investor, the
more knowledge you have, the worse off you’ll be…on average, in
the long run.
Consider
the results of a 2019 study from Morningstar, the independent
research company. Comparing the results of active managers (financial
gurus who use their knowledge to beat the market) with index funds
(which passively follow the ups and downs of hundreds of companies),
just 23% of the active managers were able to outperform their passive
peers. That is, you’re paying your investment advisor to lose your
hard-earned money while your non-managed index fund nets you nearly
7% interest every year. That’s the average stock market return over
the past 200 years after taking inflation, which averages around 2%
annually, into account.
Plot of S&P Composite Real Price Index, Earnings, Dividends, and Interest Rates using data from Irrational Exuberance. Frothy, CC BY-SA 4.0, via Wikimedia Commons
Of
course, if you invested with one of the 23%, you’re ahead of the
game. This year. Statistically, the odds of your professional staying
in the winning pack two years in a row are 5%. That’s based on past
results, which is all you’ve got to go on when trying to predict
the future. Of course, there are the Warren Buffett’s of this
world, who consistently beat the odds—in Buffett’s case, by
correctly picking what turned out to be undervalued stocks. But he’s
the exception to the rule. Again, on balance and in the long run,
managed money loses out to passive money.
The
above is my attempt to explain the efficient-market
hypothesis,
or EMH, which says that share prices reflect all information about
that stock, that is, the best available estimate of the value of the
services or income flows it will generate. As my new BFF, ChatGPT,
explains, “The EMH suggests that it’s difficult to consistently
outsmart the stock market by finding ‘hidden gems’ or undervalued
stocks, as the market is already efficient and all publicly available
information is quickly reflected in stock prices.”
I’ve
written about Bitcoin (BTC) previously (most recently here),
and you may be wondering, What “services or income flows” can
possibly be generated from cryptocurrency? The answer, as many
naysayers have reminded me, is, None
whatsover.
Bitcoins don’t generate any earnings and their intrinsic worth is
zero. Yet, for a worthless “currency,” Bitcoin has shown
remarkable staying power over the last 13 years. Instead of popping
like a traditional financial bubble (the 18th
century South Sea Bubble being the archetype), it’s gone up, come
down, gone up, come down (most recently, from nearly $70,000 to below
$15,000)…and shows no signs of going away. What gives? Is Bitcoin
“the final refutation of the efficient-market hypothesis,” as one
commentator put it? Or will it pop, like all the rest? (If so, when?)
Perhaps
the EMH has something to teach fans of cryptocurrency. Some years
ago, while Bitcoin was dropping precipitously, a BTC investor and
regular blogger advised his followers to HODL. That was late at
night, after a couple of drinks. He meant, HOLD, of course. Typo or
not, HODL entered the lexicon, and today you’ve got active
cryptocurrency investors, just like with traditional stocks, trying
to time and beat the market. And you’ve got HODL ones, who take the
long view of the market, passively hanging on to whatever Bitcoins
they might own. They watch as the value of Bitcoin goes through its
wild swings—losing 20% in one day, for instance—all the while
sticking to their HODL strategy. (Currently, Bitcoins that haven’t
been moved from wallets in at least six months account for nearly
four-fifths of all Bitcoins minted.)
Stock
market and cryptocurrency investors alike could do worse than follow
this strategy: When
in doubt, do nothing!
It’s like the pandemic all over again. That’s the feeling you get these days at the campus. The corridors, bustling with students and teachers just a few weeks ago, are empty and silent, as all classes are online pending further government notice.
Outside in the neighborhood, some of the cafes that rely on student foot traffic are closed, and there is a general dismal air throughout the vast city.
Upstairs, the teacher’s terrace, normally full of colleagues grabbing a coffee and cigarette between classes, is deserted except for a handful of mainstays like myself, who come to the campus because there are fewer distractions than at home. My boss and another lady were conscientiously caring for the somewhat neglected plants, sweeping up leaves that have dried and fallen.
“So,” I joked, referencing Covid days. “Are everyone’s office plants gonna die again?”
Photo: Tressler.
My boss gave a rueful grin and I returned to my office on the fourth floor, passing no one in the silent halls. A persistent feeling of defeat, of resignation has hung over the country ever since a series of massive quakes rocked the southeast, killing upwards of 45,000. A feeling of déjà vu, of not again! What else can happen to us that hasn’t already happened?
“Aren’t you worried at all about the earthquakes?” my wife asked the other evening. Ever since last month’s tragedy, she has insisted that we relocate sometime in the next year to a safer zone, most likely the capital Ankara.
“No,” I said, and I meant it. Just answering the question made me tired.
“NO? Not at all?” my wife asked, shooting a meaningful glance at our 3-year-old son Leo, who was playing with one of his cars at my feet.
“No,” I persisted. “I mean, here in Turkey if it’s not one thing it’s another!”
My wife acknowledged that point. In the decade we have been together, we have seen the country face not one but two wars – Syrıa to the south, now Ukraine to the north, and all of the refugees flooding into the country. We have seen political turbulence – from the Gezi Park protests to the 2016 failed military coup, and all of the resultant fallout, the mass arrests and persecutions. We have seen skyrocketing inflation that has crippled growth.
“And Covid,” my wife added, listening while I listlessly listed all of the above.
“I mean, I’m 50 –” I went on, about to add how I felt entitled at this stage of life to not be bothered.
“Yes, but what about his age?” my wife said, indicating our son Leo, who was still playing with his cars, oblivious to these significant discussions about his present and future.
We have had these discussions, in varying forms, ever since the earthquakes struck, and each aftershock jolts them back into focus and relevance. Aftershocks: experts warn that the aftershocks of the quakes down south could persist for months. Aftershocks? Isn’t living in Turkey one long, continuous aftershock, from disasters natural and otherwise?
Of course, I know my wife is right (isn’t she always? Happy wife, happy life?). Still, I have resisted the idea. We just bought our apartment near Kadıkoy last summer, the paint on the renovations scarcely dried. There is my work at the university, where I am for the most part content, and not to mention the fact that Istanbul is one of the great cities of the world. Ankara?
“Think of it this way,” I told my wife, during one of these discussions. “Imagine after we married we’d gone to America and settled in New York, had a new apartment in Manhattan, and then suddenly I was talking about moving us to somewhere like Pittsburgh?”
“I’d rather live in Pittsburgh than New York,” my wife said with casual defiance, and which I almost knew she would say.
These kinds of debates are probably not confined to our Kadıkoy apartment. Doubtless the recent tragedies, coupled with all of the country’s other longstanding woes, have prompted countless other couples around the city and country to start evaluating (or re-evaluating) their options. In fact, some of my colleagues, not entirely joking, asked me right after the earthquakes: “So are you going back to America?” They asked the question with the implication that they wished they had that option, that I was lucky. If only it were that easy. Perhaps if I were younger and single – as you get older and settled, it’s a lot harder to just pack your bag and leave (for years, in Prague and upon arriving in Istanbul, I lived by the self-made mantra: never own more than you are able to pack into a single bag at a moment’s notice).
Of course, watching the disturbing images on the news, of whole apartment buildings collapsing, reading of entire families wiped out in a matter of seconds, and those who died trapped in the rubble, freezing or starving, have a way of putting such feeble thoughts in perspective. What if the next big one hit Istanbul, is the general fear here, shared by my wife and most others with a grain of reason?. No doubt the casualties here, with its population of 15 million densely packed into tenements and buildings no better or stronger than those we saw collapse into rubble on the TV, would be much higher.
“But we’re invested here,” I protested. “What about our apartment? What about my work? Your work?” And so on, to little avail, and realizing that of the two, her argument is no doubt the more reasonable one. She usually knows best, after all. But damn it, Ankara? Where there is no sea, where there is not the proximity to Europe, nor the cosmopolitan vibe I like so much? A land-locked city on a river in the middle of Anatolia, the Midwest of Turkey. It’s like moving from San Francisco to somewhere like Lincoln, Nebraska, except imagine Lincoln, Nebraska with 9 million people.
Most likely, we will be moving there sometime in the next year. That means I will need to start looking at universities in the Ankara area, and getting used to the idea of leaving Istanbul behind. I know, it’s for the family’s sake, for our son’s sake. I know I am being selfish, and who knows? Maybe good things will come of the decision. Who knows what will happen next in this country?
On a related note: I have kept up with the latest news back on the North Coast, itself no stranger to earthquakes. A proposal there to use barges for student housing caught my attention, and set in motion a brainstorm. After all, here in Turkey there has been increased interest in converting shipping containers into housing. Maybe you have seen examples on the Internet. Why couldn’t we sell our flat and invest in one of these converted shipping containers?
As usual, my wife was way ahead, having already looked into the costs. The containers themselves were fairly reasonable.
“But you need land,” she added. “Or a park? Do you know any trailer parks around here?”
As for the barge idea (I tried painting an image of new apartments floating on barges in the Bosphorus – sensible, eh, romantic even?), my wife shot that one down instantly, citing researchers findings that the faultlines here extend into the Bosphorus and nearby sea, so we would be if anything even more vulnerable should the Big One strike. So much for containers and barges, for now.
###
Some time back I was having a discussion with students about results of a World Happiness Index, an annual survey. At the top of the list were the usual suspects – Finland, Denmark, the Nordic countries basically. At the bottom was likewise dismally predicable, with war-torn countries like Syria and Afghanistan near the bottom.
Where was Turkey? Somewhere in the middle, as it always seems to be. “Well, we’re not the best, but far from the worst,” I said, in that teacherly encouraging way.
“Geography is destiny,” mused one of the young men, a tall basketball player. The rest of the class nodded in agreement, and we all for a moment imagined ourselves existing blissfully in somewhere like Switzerland. Why can’t we all live in Switzerland, a wealthy, peaceful country where absolutely nothing bad ever seems to happen? Why did we have to live in Turkey, where catastrophe, crisis, disaster, in one form or another, always seems to hover just over the last horizon and over the next one?
A few days later, over beers with a close friend, Omer, I passed on this “geography is destiny” pronouncement.
“Yes. Absolutely!” Omer concurred. We drank our beer, and I told him about our plans to move to Ankara. “If your wife is worried,” he said, “why not have your building evaluated for earthquake safety? If there is a danger, you could always keep the flat and rent it out, and find a safer one. “
It was encouraging to have Omer on my side. My wife thinks well of him, and takes his advice seriously, so I was happy to pass it along. Don’t know if that will make any difference, but we’ll see. Meanwhile, I have to prepare for my online lesson, and the next looming disaster. I think of my wife, and my son at home with his grandparents, and think that if geography is indeed destiny, then I couldn’t have picked a better place.
###
James Tressler, a former Lost Coast resident, is a writer living in Istanbul.
The cast of Bull in a China Shop get ready, just before the power went out in the dressing room | Photo: Stephanie McGeary
###
The old theater cliché “the show must go on” never seems more relevant than it is in Humboldt, where the rural location, old theater buildings and unpredictable weather can sometimes cause unwanted surprises during a show. That was exemplified in how relatively calm the cast of Bull in a China Shop at Redwood Curtain Theatre remained when the power went out in the dressing room just before showtime.
“We’re here because we love it so much,” local actor Amelia Resendez, who plays the character Pearl in the play, told the Outpost. “So anything that goes wrong – we just go with it.”
Just minutes after the Outpost sat down with the five-woman cast – Resendez, Natasha White (Mary Woolley), Caroline Needham (Jeannette Marks), Toodie Boll (Dean Welsh) and Sarah Traywick (Felicity) – the dressing room went dark. After a brief moment of shock and confusion about the unexpected blackout, the actors continued to put on their makeup and do their hair by the lights on their cell phones, as the stage manager and theater staff scrambled to get the dressing room lights back on. When it became clear that the issue would not be immediately resolved, the actors continued to talk to the Outpost amid the darkness, cracking jokes about how very “community theater” this moment was.
Luckily, the rest of the theater was unaffected by the power issue (which must have been caused by a blown fuse), and the opening show did go on as planned. One of the immediately striking things about Redwood Curtain Theatre is how different the setup is from most local theaters. The space is small and intimate, with a crescent-shaped stage, giving the audience the ability to see the set from multiple angles. Sitting in the front row at this theater, you are so close to the actors, you could almost reach out and touch them (of course, don’t do that), especially during this show, where the characters sometimes walk offstage, and do several monologues that almost break the fourth wall, treating the audience as if they are students of the university in which the play mostly takes place.
Bull in a China Shop – a somewhat new play, written in 2018 by Bryna Turner – is set between the years 1899 and 1937 and revolves around the relationship between real women, Mary Woolley and Jeannette Marks and is based on the actual love letters sent between the two over the course of their relationship. The play starts around the time that Woolley accepted a job as the president of Mount Holyoke College – a liberal arts women’s college in Massachusetts, where Marks also becomes a professor.
Weaving back and forth through different years, the story touches on many themes – love and relationships, women’s rights, the educational system – as the characters navigate the struggles of the women’s suffrage movement and the onset of World War II. Somehow this relatively short play (about 90 minutes) manages to pack in all of these themes, and do so with a great deal of levity and many laughs, but also many tender moments.
Natasha White (left) and Caroline Needham as lovers Mary Woolley and Jeanette Marks | Photo: Carol Lang
Director Carol Lang said that the length of the play and the unique setup of Redwood Curtain’s stage did present challenges with the show that she, the production team and the cast had to come up with creative solutions for.
“[The story] moves at a really fast pace and goes to so many different locations, and through so many different years,” Lang told the Outpost during a pre-show interview. “So it’s a challenge. Like, how are you going to show all that in 90 minutes?”
One of the ways that Lang and the cast displayed the passage of time was through many costume changes, with different years shown through the fashion of the era. This could not have been an easy feat for the actors, who have to change in a very narrow hallway backstage. Redwood Curtain’s dressing room is separate from the tiny backstage area and requires a trip through the theater’s lobby. So, once the show has begun, the actors can no longer make the trip to the dressing room to change costumes.
Without an actual curtain to draw, there were also few set changes throughout the show. Instead, Lang chose to create the feeling of different locations by projecting images on a screen in the center, back wall of the stage. Lang also included a pre-show slideshow, accompanied by music, that showed real images of the woman in the story, the college and other locations the show is set in, and other historic photos from the women’s suffrage movement.
Though the play is set in the past, it is told using modern language and Lang also chose to leave in some modern elements, including not covering up the actors’ tattoos with makeup. Lang posted a statement in the lobby saying “it is an intentional creative statement that this production chooses to leave all actor’s tattoos uncovered … we felt this symbolizes the future colliding with the past, bringing into focus the roads women have taken to get where we are now and the journey that is still before us.”
In addition to fighting for women’s rights, the characters Woodley and Marks also face the struggles of their relationship, which is riddled with challenges, including infidelity, working together at the same college, not always seeing eye-to-eye on educational and political approaches and sometimes being separated by long distances. Of course, they also face the challenge of being two women living during a time when same-sex relationships were not socially acceptable.
Toodie Boll as Dean Welsh and Needham (Marks) on the stage | Photo: Carol Lang
Local actor Caroline Needham told the Outpost that she can really relate to the Marks character and that she feels it’s really important to share queer love stories on stage, something that we see relatively little of in live theater.
“The themes of this show are really, personally important to me, as a queer woman,” Needham told the Outpost in the dressing room before the show. “My character is a dramatic, queer English teacher, and I’m a dramatic, queer English teacher. … Portraying queer love stories is so important for people to see what it’s like. …With the hate that queer people are experiencing recently, especially in performance around drag, and the continued bigotry that queer people face, it can be really, really empowering to see [queer love stories] on stage.”
White also appreciates being able to show a love story between two women, and feels that this play does an excellent job of showing the struggles that occur within Woolley and Marks’ relationship, without it being the sole focus of the play.
“Our [character’s] obstacles are with the passion of what we’re trying to do politically,” White told the Outpost. “And, you know, we have relationship problems here and there. But it isn’t stereotypical or one-dimensional. We’re just two people in love. I think [the play] is beautifully written that way.”
With the show’s themes, it seems fitting that all the characters are women and with a small cast of only five performers, the actors said that they really got a chance to dive deep into their characters and the history of the period the play is set in. Of course, it also gave them a chance to become very close with each other.
“I love working with a small, tight cast,” Needham told the Outpost. “It’s so much easier to do in-depth work. We can all really rely on each other a lot and we got to know each other really well, which is really important in a play that demands a lot of intimacy.”
The bond that the participants form when working together for months on a show seems to be the draw for many people who participate in local theater – the directors, the lighting and sound crew, the designers and the actors. These folks receive little to no pay and have to work through sometimes challenging circumstances, like having to get ready in a dressing room with no power. But the joy that comes with creating a show and sharing it with the community seems to be enough to keep them coming back.
“I think it is an amazing creative outlet for so many people because it’s community-oriented,” Lang told the Outpost. “Anybody can audition for a show. Anybody can sign up to usher or run the lightboard..it’s an amazing coming together of like-minded people who believe in the creative arts. And you meet lifetime friends. You meet people that you would never have met before. And you might not even mingle with them outside the theater, but you all become this family.”
Bull in a China Shop will continue its run at Redwood Curtain Theatre – 220 1st St, Eureka – through Mar. 11. You can purchase tickets at this link.
And, in case you were wondering, the dressing room power did eventually get turned back on. So, at least for now, the actors are no longer getting ready in the dark.
On March 4, 2023, at approximately 7:00 a.m., the Eureka Police Department’s
Communication Center received a report of a subject lying in the roadway near 5th and K
Streets, who was visibly injured and had possibly been struck by a vehicle.
The reporting
party stated there were no vehicles on scene. Eureka Police Officers were dispatched to
the scene along with Humboldt Bay Fire and City Ambulance. The first arriving officers
located vehicle debris in the roadway, confirming that a vehicle versus pedestrian traffic
collision had occurred and confirmed there were no involved vehicles still on scene.
The pedestrian suffered major injuries and was immediately transported by City
Ambulance to St. Joseph Hospital where they have succumbed to their injuries.
The investigation has revealed that the pedestrian was traveling south across 5 th Street, in
the crosswalk, and was struck by the suspect vehicle. The suspect vehicle immediately
fled, traveling east on 5 th Street, without rendering any aid to the pedestrian.
Evidence at the scene, both physical and video, has identified the suspect vehicle as a
white Lincoln MKX, mid-size SUV, with a probable model year of 2011-2015. The
vehicle has a sun or moon roof that makes the vehicle’s roof appear black and will have
driver’s side front end damage.
There will be no additional information released at this time as this is an active criminal
investigation.
Anyone who may have witnessed this collision or has information on the involved
vehicle or driver is asked to please contact the Eureka Police Department Communications Center at 707-441-4044 or email the Investigating Officer, Jeremy
Sollom, at jsollom@eurekaca.gov or our Criminal Investigations Section Detective
Sergeant, Wayne Rabang, wrabang@eurekaca.gov.
Today’s guests, Jaytuk Steinruck of Tolowa Dee-ni’ Nation and Megan Rocha of Resighini Rancheria, join the show to talk about the Tribal Marine Stewards Network, an alliance of Tribal Nations working together to steward, protect, and restore the ocean and coastal resources along the California coast. The network’s initiatives include monitoring important marine species like surf smelt, mussels, salmon, and kelp, as well as toxic algae, erosion, and other climate related impacts on coastal environments.
Caltrans is planning a nighttime closure of Fernbridge along Route 211 in Humboldt County. The bridge between U.S. 101 and Ferndale will be closed from 10 p.m. Friday, March 10 until 8 a.m. Saturday, March 11. Emergency services will be accommodated through the closure if necessary. Motorists are encouraged to use an alternate route during this time frame. This will allow crews to replace and move some bridge falsework in order to facilitate further repairs.
