Author: John M. Williams

by John M. Williams

Collision Courses

A born and bred San Diego native decided she would like to live by the sea in Ocean Beach. She now lives in an apartment on Niagara between Sunset Cliffs and Cable and is well settled into the semi-village lifestyle of Ocean Beach. Time flowed by without major incident until a wrestler from St. Louis, MO who had gravitated to Santa Cruz, CA with his wife, also a wrestler, relocated to San Diego.

Here they leased space which has access from the alley and opened an evening live presentation venue. Among the offerings are music and comedy, but the main event is wrestling, and OB Rassle House was established.

by JM Williams

The worst of the year: The Murder of George Floyd

Last year, I watched phone video of the death of an American citizen as filmed by a bystander on a street in Minneapolis. No other event overshadows it. Not recently, not in memory.

How shocking beyond the ability to comprehend it is to watch a cop kill a citizen and smile for the camera. It remains unimaginable, yet I’ve seen it. As the trainer kneeled on the neck of the citizen, two trainees did crowd control while a third held the citizen’s ankles.

It’s not systemic? It’s not institutional? Really? How do you define those terms?

Even so, there’s no sense in defunding the police. Anarchy would not be fun unless you happen to sell the tools of the trade. Reform of how the police are overseen is necessary.

My time here is rapidly drawing to a close. Thank God. Don’t get me wrong, the people are nice, the money’s been good, and at 65, hell, it’s just good to work at all. I hope I’ve stayed long enough, but even if I haven’t, I gotta get out of here.

Why do I need to leave?

More than any other reason it is because I’m starting to lose my patience. Things I could shrug off before are becoming too tiresome to let go by. I’m starting to tell administrators things they’re not interested in hearing. In class, I started straying further and further off the prescribed and only acceptable path. My ability to pretend I’m happy as a clam in company and school meetings is deteriorating. I’m just too tired of the bullshit.

Editor: This rant is from John M Williams, our good friend, former OBcean, former writer for the original OB Rag, who now sits in Riyadh in Saudi Arabia, and works as an English instructor. He has, on occasion, even written his column, “Riyadh Calling”. Here is his rant – America from outside.

From Stitt-on-Schink, Republic of FarVonna

Do you not ponder how things came to this?

By “this,” I mean:

1. Corporations are people.

2. Habeus corpus is no more.

3. Once labeled a “terrorist,” one, regardless of any thing else, can legally be killed anywhere on the planet. The “right” and “might” of the Federal Government of the United States of America (FGUSA) to “defend freedom, democracy, and the American way” knows, respects, acknowledges no boundaries. In fact, the FGUSA routinely shrugs off the death of innocents while in pursuit of its own safety and targets. Oh yeah, they do sometimes (for the cameras) say, “Sorry.” and send a check. Check any news service virtually any week if you dispute this claim. My advice here is: Don’t be a target.

RIYADH, SAUDI ARABIA – I think most Americans have little idea of the climatic conditions here in Saudi Arabia. We, with the exception of those who have experience in small desert towns, have nothing with which to compare this environment in Riyadh. It is stark, barren, bright, superheated, and dry to the nth degree. It is unforgiving, mean, murderous, virtually without plants, animals, water or shade. Somehow, Saudi Arabs have managed to adapt to and survive in this ultra-difficult setting for, I’m guessing, 5,000 years. It seems fair to say that’s worth a tip of the hat.

Saudi Arabia is a young country, being a little bit less than eighty years old. The ruling family (tribe – tribal affiliations are still reflected in the family names of Saudis), in the person of the first king, Abdulaziz Al-Saud, consolidated its power only in 1932. Oil was discovered soon after that and the accumulation of wealth which continues until today began, but as recently as 1960 most of Saudis were desert nomads. That heritage remains part of the identity of many of my students. They harken back to those days and proudly call themselves Bedouins, much as young men who grow up in the western states of America sometimes consider themselves to be cowboys. The grandparents of many of my students actually lived that life.

Dear All, On December 23rd, it’s Christmas in Riyadh, Saudi Arabia. Damn year is just about over. New year, renewed…

by John M. Williams / June 30, 2010
Section 1: Last re Working Here

I have achieved some goals and failed to achieve others during my six months in Riyadh, Saudi Arabia, as an English teacher.

The most significant failure is in not being retained at the school where I taught for most of this past six months. It was my goal upon arrival to do well, and to work through a year at this one school. It even seemed possible to me that I might advance to a supervisory or administrative position as the year progressed.

As it is, I have become toxic, radioactive, a leper; not only removed from class overnight, but denied any contact at with students, to the extent that I was not even allowed to grade final exam writing papers.

by John M. Williams

I’ve decided that that’s what I need: Somebody to hate.

The old Airplane song had it backward, I think. We don’t need Somebody to Love, we need Somebody to Hate. That way, we’d have something we could share; we’d have something in common and could get along even though we each thought the other to be an idiot, fool, dolt, or just plain stupid and bad mannered.

by John M Williams / Special to the OB Rag / May 14, 2010

Let me set the stage. The school I work in is a remedial college designed as a feeder for King Saud University (KSU). My school is called the Preparatory Year Program (PYP). Students take courses in English, physics, chemistry, biology, math, IT and a group of business related subjects.

The organization is a little complex, but let me try. At the top is King Abdullah. Then comes the Ministry of Education. Next is KSU. KSU contracted with a Saudi company named Obekan. Obekan hired Bell, a United Kingdom-based English language teaching charitable trust associated with Cambridge University. Bell recruited teachers, created the administrative structure, and runs the school on a day to day basis. The role of Bell is rather like that of a middle manager; they have very little real power, but are the face of the organization to teachers and students.

by John Williams

So far, I’ve commented on Saudi society with the intent of relating how different it is from the US. I haven’t intended to be critical. It hasn’t been my intent to elevate one system over the other. I haven’t wanted to choose. Now, though, I want to say some things about the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia (KSA) that I think are positive.

First, these people walk the walk when it comes to the question of hospitality. For example, as I’ve said, I live in a hotel. One afternoon, I was near the entrance having a smoke when a youthful Saudi man was also in the lobby (you are allowed to smoke inside of buildings here), pacing, apparently deeply in thought. At a point, his route brought him close enough to me for me to remark, “You seem to be thinking very seriously about something.”

by John Williams

I’m now nearing three months in Saudi Arabia. Much of what I’ve already said remains unchanged.

However, I have learned that the characteristic black outer garment the women here wear is called an abaya, not a burka. I’ve also learned that is only worn when a woman wishes to go out in public. It isn’t worn around the house. Further, it is rather like your mom saying, “Don’t forget your jacket!” Except, of course, in this case the women are not told by their mothers, “Don’t forget your abaya!”, but by their culture.

Additionally, I’ve also learned that how much face a woman shows in public is decided by her husband. Some are allowed to (or is it directed to, I don’t know), show their entire face, quite nun like; others show just the eyes; and others show nothing of their faces at all, black from head to toe.

I’ve also learned that thobes, the characteristic attire for men, can be purchased in subtle pinstripes as well as in solid colors.