Iran is seething, fermenting, building to a climax, or whatever you want to call it when something's got to give. That country has all the symptoms of an allergy to autocratic rule, and those in power have no cure. Sooner or later, whether it be days, weeks, months, or years, the ayatollahs will be displaced and some kind of representative government will emerge.
Obama is getting some pokes from conservative republicans like Lindsay Graham who believe the U.S. should speak out in support of the Iranian dissidents. As usual, their instincts stink. For the moment at least, power in Iran is held by a government that is generally perceived as illegitimate because it conducted a fraudulent general election. The smart thing is to let the internal pressure build in Iran and not give its government any reason to claim U.S. provocation is creating the dissention. Israel, similarly, should pipe down about Iran.
With a very youthful and technologically savvy population, a high unemployment rate, and a history of more moderate Muslim practice, Iran is ripe for a counter revolution that will put the ayatollahs back on the sidelines. Let's just sit back and see what happens. If the current government is bent on repression, the cork will stay in the bottle awhile longer.
I like seeing the pictures of protest in Iran. This situation is providing a wonderful object lesson for those in countries populated largely by Muslims. Until the present time, many of these countries have been moving toward more religiously-dominated governments. But if Iran's religious rulers put down legitimate dissent, Muslims around the world may react by becoming increasingly reluctant to elevate religious conservatives in their own countries.
We need to leave Iran alone for awhile. No matter what happens there, the outcome is likely to be good if it is internally-generated. Obama has got it right. Let the pot boil on its own.
Monday, June 22, 2009
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
The Boys from Burma
Burma is half a world away, so few Americans understand that its military regime has been systematically persecuting ethnic minorities for many years. Members of two tribes, the Karen and the Chin, have been harassed and driven out to refugee camps in Thailand. From there, some come to the United States as political refugees, having been assisted by the American Baptist Church. This church has had a long relationship with these tribes.
Rochester, New York, has become home to many of these Burmese refugees. The Lake Avenue Baptist Church, where I keep the books, has a major mission to help them assimilate into American culture. A high percentage of the refugees are young, since the young have the stamina to flee their homeland and the courage to start anew.
Today two of these young men, "Eric" and Salai, have been helping me erase a few major items from my "honey-do" list. Eric is 19, Salai, 27. They are good looking, happy, and hard workers. This morning they did yard work, and this afternoon they've been removing wallpaper. I made them a nice lunch, and later they'll get some nice cash for their efforts. In the morning I'll make a long drive into city and pick them up for another day of work.
Eric has been in the U.S. for one year and his English is already quite good. Salai is picking up the language pretty well, too. They require little instruction. I give them a general idea of what I want done and they figure out all the pieces on their own. So far, their tasks have been completed with a few extra nice touches that they thought would make the job even better. I'm happy.
This is not the first time I've been up close and personal with refugees from Asia. The first time was when the Vietnamese, Cambodians, and Hmong thronged to the U.S. following the Viet Nam war. I was astounded at how quickly, and with such sacrifice, they established themselves and became major contributors to our economy and culture.
Don't tell me there are no opportunities in America. All it takes to achieve "success" is the will to do what is obvious to succeed. Some people get it; many don't ever figure that out or don't want to admit that they understand but are unwilling to pay the price. Eric and Salai get it. I'd like to see what their lives are like ten years from now.
Rochester, New York, has become home to many of these Burmese refugees. The Lake Avenue Baptist Church, where I keep the books, has a major mission to help them assimilate into American culture. A high percentage of the refugees are young, since the young have the stamina to flee their homeland and the courage to start anew.
Today two of these young men, "Eric" and Salai, have been helping me erase a few major items from my "honey-do" list. Eric is 19, Salai, 27. They are good looking, happy, and hard workers. This morning they did yard work, and this afternoon they've been removing wallpaper. I made them a nice lunch, and later they'll get some nice cash for their efforts. In the morning I'll make a long drive into city and pick them up for another day of work.
Eric has been in the U.S. for one year and his English is already quite good. Salai is picking up the language pretty well, too. They require little instruction. I give them a general idea of what I want done and they figure out all the pieces on their own. So far, their tasks have been completed with a few extra nice touches that they thought would make the job even better. I'm happy.
This is not the first time I've been up close and personal with refugees from Asia. The first time was when the Vietnamese, Cambodians, and Hmong thronged to the U.S. following the Viet Nam war. I was astounded at how quickly, and with such sacrifice, they established themselves and became major contributors to our economy and culture.
Don't tell me there are no opportunities in America. All it takes to achieve "success" is the will to do what is obvious to succeed. Some people get it; many don't ever figure that out or don't want to admit that they understand but are unwilling to pay the price. Eric and Salai get it. I'd like to see what their lives are like ten years from now.
Saturday, June 13, 2009
Thumbing
A week ago Thursday, in the early evening, I emerged from the tree tunnels of the Appalachian Trail onto Connecticut Rt. 41, near Salisbury. It's a winding two-lane road.
An hour before and three miles back, I had inadvertently walked past the path to the shelter where I'd planned to sleep that night. By the time I realized this, the shelter was quite a bit uphill from where I was. So I decided to walk to the road and find a motel for the night.
Dropping my pack and poles at the roadside, I stuck out my thumb and began to beg for a ride into town. Drivers of the intermittently passing cars looked me over and passed me by for about 15 minutes. After all, I was somewhat dirty and I had a five day grey beard on my face.
Then, a red Ford pickup passed me, going the opposite direction to the one I intended to go. As it faded into the distance I saw the brake lights come on, and I said to myself, "That person is going to turn around and pick me up." And so he did, and so began the mini-Oddessy of the next 12 hours.
The 40-ish, fit-looking driver had a heavy accent that I couldn't quite place. He told me there was no motel in Salisbury, but there was one, he thought, down another road in the direction he intended to drive. Would I be OK with going on awhile? "OK", I said, trusting in fate as he drove the truck, which needed some wheel balancing, too fast down the almost-shoulderless Connecticut roads.
More than one half hour and many miles later, following a fruitless information stop at a small town gas station, we pulled up to a shabby 1950's style motel with only one vehicle parked in front at 8 p.m. No other businesses were visible in either direction; the motel was squarely in the middle of "nowhere". There was no cell phone reception. The man said, "I'll come back in the morning, about 7:30, and take you back to where I found you." He waved goodbye, and the red truck disappeared down the road.
The next adventure of the evening involved an Indian lady motel owner who, without being asked, loaned me her shabby old car so I could drive nine miles to get dinner and call the Good Witch. I think she badly needed the cash I gave her to cover the gas I used, plus a bunch extra. The tiny stall shower in my room worked, and the bed did not have bedbugs. Everything's good!
At about 7:30 the next morning a red pickup pulled into the motel parking lot and stopped in front of the little cabin where I waited. Off we went, following a much more direct route to where the man had found me the previous evening. Even so, we were on the road at least 1/2 hour before arriving at the spot. Our conversation was continuous. I had many questions for my new friend, whose name was Walter Pezantes.
Walter was an Equadorian, working in America as a mason and stoneworker. He built high-quality walkways, porches, chimneys, and stone walls. He had an ex-wife and three children in Equador, and two larger parcels of property where he intended to retire someday. Working in America gave him the opportunity to support his family and plan for the future. He told me much about Equador while I struggled to get through his accent.
Why was it Walter who stopped for me? Why didn't the "regular Americans" give me a helping hand? The answer is simple, one I've known since I began hitchhiking as a young teenager. It's those who've had it tough, those who've really been desperate for help, those who've received an unexpected gift of kindness from others, who don't hesitate to put out their hand for strangers in need. Most "regular Americans", those who've never known deprivation, feel only fear of the unknown when they look into the faces of strangers in need.
I could tell that Walter enjoyed his time with me. We had a lively conversation, and he knew I was interested in him as a person. I thanked him profusely for helping me to get a shower and a good night's sleep before my last day of hiking.
The act of putting out my thumb, something that I'm never embarassed to do if need arises, set off a chain reaction of events that I'll remember as highlights of this past week on the Appalachian Trail. Now you know why I generally pick up people who wave their thumb and look at me with imploring eyes as my car approaches them on the highway.
An hour before and three miles back, I had inadvertently walked past the path to the shelter where I'd planned to sleep that night. By the time I realized this, the shelter was quite a bit uphill from where I was. So I decided to walk to the road and find a motel for the night.
Dropping my pack and poles at the roadside, I stuck out my thumb and began to beg for a ride into town. Drivers of the intermittently passing cars looked me over and passed me by for about 15 minutes. After all, I was somewhat dirty and I had a five day grey beard on my face.
Then, a red Ford pickup passed me, going the opposite direction to the one I intended to go. As it faded into the distance I saw the brake lights come on, and I said to myself, "That person is going to turn around and pick me up." And so he did, and so began the mini-Oddessy of the next 12 hours.
The 40-ish, fit-looking driver had a heavy accent that I couldn't quite place. He told me there was no motel in Salisbury, but there was one, he thought, down another road in the direction he intended to drive. Would I be OK with going on awhile? "OK", I said, trusting in fate as he drove the truck, which needed some wheel balancing, too fast down the almost-shoulderless Connecticut roads.
More than one half hour and many miles later, following a fruitless information stop at a small town gas station, we pulled up to a shabby 1950's style motel with only one vehicle parked in front at 8 p.m. No other businesses were visible in either direction; the motel was squarely in the middle of "nowhere". There was no cell phone reception. The man said, "I'll come back in the morning, about 7:30, and take you back to where I found you." He waved goodbye, and the red truck disappeared down the road.
The next adventure of the evening involved an Indian lady motel owner who, without being asked, loaned me her shabby old car so I could drive nine miles to get dinner and call the Good Witch. I think she badly needed the cash I gave her to cover the gas I used, plus a bunch extra. The tiny stall shower in my room worked, and the bed did not have bedbugs. Everything's good!
At about 7:30 the next morning a red pickup pulled into the motel parking lot and stopped in front of the little cabin where I waited. Off we went, following a much more direct route to where the man had found me the previous evening. Even so, we were on the road at least 1/2 hour before arriving at the spot. Our conversation was continuous. I had many questions for my new friend, whose name was Walter Pezantes.
Walter was an Equadorian, working in America as a mason and stoneworker. He built high-quality walkways, porches, chimneys, and stone walls. He had an ex-wife and three children in Equador, and two larger parcels of property where he intended to retire someday. Working in America gave him the opportunity to support his family and plan for the future. He told me much about Equador while I struggled to get through his accent.
Why was it Walter who stopped for me? Why didn't the "regular Americans" give me a helping hand? The answer is simple, one I've known since I began hitchhiking as a young teenager. It's those who've had it tough, those who've really been desperate for help, those who've received an unexpected gift of kindness from others, who don't hesitate to put out their hand for strangers in need. Most "regular Americans", those who've never known deprivation, feel only fear of the unknown when they look into the faces of strangers in need.
I could tell that Walter enjoyed his time with me. We had a lively conversation, and he knew I was interested in him as a person. I thanked him profusely for helping me to get a shower and a good night's sleep before my last day of hiking.
The act of putting out my thumb, something that I'm never embarassed to do if need arises, set off a chain reaction of events that I'll remember as highlights of this past week on the Appalachian Trail. Now you know why I generally pick up people who wave their thumb and look at me with imploring eyes as my car approaches them on the highway.
Friday, June 12, 2009
The Killing Spree Gains Momentum
Right wing killers are having a field day. The election of a mixed race president has brought them out faster than a full moon awakens the werewolves! It's a devil's brew: uneducated, unsuccessful, resentful men; easily obtained guns; inciters everywhere - radio, "churches", social groups, and the web. Don't expect the killing to end anytime soon.
The inciters are the big problem. There's plenty of evidence these creatures are motivating the killers to pull the trigger. It doesn't take much, just a little daily push toward acting on hate. There's no need to be explicit, either. Code words that everyone understands work just fine. What's a few deaths when such talk keeps the ratings high?
Sooner or later we'll have another big killing spree. Maybe not an Oklahoma City massacre, maybe worse, who can tell? It will be ugly. Then the people and the government will come out in force. The inciters will be muzzled, the potential perpetrators rounded up, and everyone will be sad that nobody took action before the terrible crime happened.
How free must speech be? Maybe it's a little too free right now.
The inciters are the big problem. There's plenty of evidence these creatures are motivating the killers to pull the trigger. It doesn't take much, just a little daily push toward acting on hate. There's no need to be explicit, either. Code words that everyone understands work just fine. What's a few deaths when such talk keeps the ratings high?
Sooner or later we'll have another big killing spree. Maybe not an Oklahoma City massacre, maybe worse, who can tell? It will be ugly. Then the people and the government will come out in force. The inciters will be muzzled, the potential perpetrators rounded up, and everyone will be sad that nobody took action before the terrible crime happened.
How free must speech be? Maybe it's a little too free right now.
Monday, June 08, 2009
Health Care Reform - Single Payer is the Only Way
OK, call me a "socialist". I just think that a few very large public functions need to be done by the government, and health care insurance is one of them. Going to a single-payer, government-run plan is the only way Americans will be able to receive adequate health care at a reasonable price. But, there will be some perceived sacrifices by consumers, and the hospitals, doctors, and pharmaceutical manufacturers will not be happy about it.
Sacrifices will be necessary to implement universal health care. Some expensive treatments will not be provided for persons near the end of life; they, and relatives, will be angry. Some persons with destructive life styles will not receive unlimited treatments for their repetitive self-inflicted wounds. Judgments will be made about providing the most care for the most people, given some limits on resources. Some will be unhappy. Of course, the rich will always be able to buy whatever care they desire, in the U.S. or elsewhere; they'll just have to pay for it themselves.
Some heath care providers will be happy with a single payer plan. My own internist, for example, is totally bummed out by HMO paperwork and bureaucracy. Others, chiefly those whose earnings from specialty practices are spectacular, will be unhappy when government puts the brakes on excessive compensation. In my view, the best of them can go totally private if they so desire. We need more doctors, not just a few of the very best. And, a government plan will make it easier for people to get an M.D. and easier for them to have a normal life once in practice.
Opponents of a single payer plan complain that it will take "choice" away from medical consumers. It's a scare tactic. People will always be able to choose which doctors they wish to see, as long as they're willing to wait in line with everyone else. The real issue is that there are many intermediaries in the current health care system who will be cut out of a single payer plan. Those are the folks who are funding the "anti" campaigns; their lifeblood depends on keeping their rather useless functions going. I say, good riddence.
Will we get some form of national health care soon? Probably not. But costs will soon escalate beyond the capability of our economy to support them under the current system. Then, public opinion will move the concept forward and the very significant change will start to happen. It will take years to fine-tune it, but it's the only long term option. Go for it, Barry!
Sacrifices will be necessary to implement universal health care. Some expensive treatments will not be provided for persons near the end of life; they, and relatives, will be angry. Some persons with destructive life styles will not receive unlimited treatments for their repetitive self-inflicted wounds. Judgments will be made about providing the most care for the most people, given some limits on resources. Some will be unhappy. Of course, the rich will always be able to buy whatever care they desire, in the U.S. or elsewhere; they'll just have to pay for it themselves.
Some heath care providers will be happy with a single payer plan. My own internist, for example, is totally bummed out by HMO paperwork and bureaucracy. Others, chiefly those whose earnings from specialty practices are spectacular, will be unhappy when government puts the brakes on excessive compensation. In my view, the best of them can go totally private if they so desire. We need more doctors, not just a few of the very best. And, a government plan will make it easier for people to get an M.D. and easier for them to have a normal life once in practice.
Opponents of a single payer plan complain that it will take "choice" away from medical consumers. It's a scare tactic. People will always be able to choose which doctors they wish to see, as long as they're willing to wait in line with everyone else. The real issue is that there are many intermediaries in the current health care system who will be cut out of a single payer plan. Those are the folks who are funding the "anti" campaigns; their lifeblood depends on keeping their rather useless functions going. I say, good riddence.
Will we get some form of national health care soon? Probably not. But costs will soon escalate beyond the capability of our economy to support them under the current system. Then, public opinion will move the concept forward and the very significant change will start to happen. It will take years to fine-tune it, but it's the only long term option. Go for it, Barry!
Saturday, June 06, 2009
Keepin' On Keepin' On
I've been absent from the blogosphere this past week as I struggled up and down some rather imposing mountains in Massachusetts and Connecticut. Nights were spent in first class accomodations like the one on the right.I'm pleased to announce that in my quest to somehow hike the entire Appalachian Trail, Massachusetts is now completed! That makes eight states done, and five to go. I have partially completed New York, Connecticut, and Vermont, but have not taken a single step in New Hampshire or Maine. Later this year I'd like to put New York and Connecticut in the "win" column.
I'll be 65 next month, and I'd be lying if I told you this was easy. Some days are grueling and seem to never end, with exhaustion waiting to take over when the climbing and descending ceases. Wednesday was like that. The target shelter was 16 miles off, with two big mountains blocking the way. Ten hours of hard work, sometimes on rock faces so steep that hands and feet were needed to scale them. When the day is over, I'm so tired I don't want to eat. But, if I don't eat, I forfeit energy for tomorrow. The food tastes like paste.
People think of Massachusetts and Connecticut as being on the populous East Coast, but most of their population is concentrated in the coastline areas. The western sections of those states are extremely mountainous and thinly populated. Thursday night I had to drive 9 miles in a borrowed car to pick up a weak cell phone signal! The roads constantly curve back and forth as they snake through the mountain valleys. The Appalachian Trail is aptly named: the Appalachian mountains really do continue unabated from Georgia to Maine, and the trail just puts them ahead of you, one at a time, as you walk north.
While I was hiking, the Air France jetliner crashed, Obama made his Cairo speech, and David Carradine became deceased. The "real world" goes on and on. But in the deep woods, the forests and rocks seem timeless and unconcerned about it all. Change is much slower, and totally unemotional. Millions of trees drive their roots into the hard granite, slowly cracking it into sand with the help of the freeze/thaw cycle. I pass by. They take no notice.
Wednesday, May 27, 2009
Cheney, Mancow, and Ketchum
This past week has been interesting.
Our ex-VP Cheney's snarl has been all over the airwaves justifying "enhanced interrogation techniques" such as waterboarding, which he claims are not torture.
Matthew "Mancow" Muller's been explaining how he took on waterboarding, intending to show how it can be endured. Instead, he found seven seconds of waterboarding unendurable and concluded there's no doubt it's torture. "It is way worse than I thought it would be, and that's no joke," Mancow told listeners. "It is such an odd feeling to have water poured down your nose with your head back...It was instantaneous...and I don't want to say this: absolutely torture." (Quote courtesy of Alternate Brain).
Fortunately there are good folks like David Ketchum, whose "All Things Counter" blog is on my sideboard. David recently wrote, based on his current experience in Cambodia, "I am just hoping that one day, we'll be able to take the long view of things. Coercion, violence, threats, fear - in the long run, these things always destroy, no matter how necessary and/or practical they feel in the moment."
So, Mr. Cheney, there you have it. A right wing apologist calls waterboarding what it is - torture - and a real American patriot explains that the tactics you espouse "always destroy". Please, go back to Wyoming and organize a hunting party for your friends. There are lots of ways for you to be scary.
Our ex-VP Cheney's snarl has been all over the airwaves justifying "enhanced interrogation techniques" such as waterboarding, which he claims are not torture.
Matthew "Mancow" Muller's been explaining how he took on waterboarding, intending to show how it can be endured. Instead, he found seven seconds of waterboarding unendurable and concluded there's no doubt it's torture. "It is way worse than I thought it would be, and that's no joke," Mancow told listeners. "It is such an odd feeling to have water poured down your nose with your head back...It was instantaneous...and I don't want to say this: absolutely torture." (Quote courtesy of Alternate Brain).
Fortunately there are good folks like David Ketchum, whose "All Things Counter" blog is on my sideboard. David recently wrote, based on his current experience in Cambodia, "I am just hoping that one day, we'll be able to take the long view of things. Coercion, violence, threats, fear - in the long run, these things always destroy, no matter how necessary and/or practical they feel in the moment."
So, Mr. Cheney, there you have it. A right wing apologist calls waterboarding what it is - torture - and a real American patriot explains that the tactics you espouse "always destroy". Please, go back to Wyoming and organize a hunting party for your friends. There are lots of ways for you to be scary.
Sonia Sotomayor
Who in their right mind could object to Sonia Sotomayor going onto the Supreme Court?
I read her bio and I heard her speak. She's another one of the brilliant ones who came out of nowhere, with great parental support, to rise to the top. Rush Limbaugh and Tom Tancredo, among others of the wacko right, have no standing to challenge her credentials. Her accomplishments speak for themselves.
I'm looking forward to the fight over her nomination. This is a wonderful opportunity to see the so-called (by themselves) republicans lose a few more percentage points of support, especially among Hispanics. A blue Florida is just a few untimely remarks away!
We needed another woman and a Hispanic on the court, which should reflect America. Another couple of women would be nice, down the road. But, for now, Sonia is a really good start. Go get'em, lady!
I read her bio and I heard her speak. She's another one of the brilliant ones who came out of nowhere, with great parental support, to rise to the top. Rush Limbaugh and Tom Tancredo, among others of the wacko right, have no standing to challenge her credentials. Her accomplishments speak for themselves.
I'm looking forward to the fight over her nomination. This is a wonderful opportunity to see the so-called (by themselves) republicans lose a few more percentage points of support, especially among Hispanics. A blue Florida is just a few untimely remarks away!
We needed another woman and a Hispanic on the court, which should reflect America. Another couple of women would be nice, down the road. But, for now, Sonia is a really good start. Go get'em, lady!
Sunday, May 24, 2009
Memorial Day
Tomorrow is Memorial Day, the day we celebrate the service and sacrifice of our veterans - the dead, the wounded, and those who put on the uniform and survived unscathed. For some, like me, serving in the armed forces was perhaps the most formative and positive experience of their lives. For others, serving resulted in their mental or physical destruction or their death. In peacetime or wartime, the military is a hazardous occupation where you're told where to go and what to do - and you do it. Your country owes you its gratitude.
Tonight I think of my nephew Will, who pilots a helicopter as a Navy ensign. I think of my grandson Michael, who guards our Marines from a foxhole in Iraq. I pray they will not lose life or limb while they serve, and that they will keep their humanity while they practice or perform the art of war.
Tonight I also think of those presidents - John Kennedy, Lyndon Johnson, and George W. Bush -who sent our troops to Viet Nam in 1965 and to Iraq in 2003, our wars of choice. I do not honor them - I detest them. The soldiers who fought deserve our respect, but these leaders deserve our scorn. It's a crime to send our soldiers into war if our country has not been attacked or in immanent jeopardy. How can these men ever be honored? What other accomplishments can offset the human tragedy they initiated? The office of Commander in Chief is a curse, not a task to be relished. Please, Obama, get it right!
When will war become obsolete? Doesn't the world have enough resources for all to share and all to prosper? Doesn't the world face greater long long term threats than conflict between countries? Haven't we memorialized enough broken men? It's time for change.
Tonight I think of my nephew Will, who pilots a helicopter as a Navy ensign. I think of my grandson Michael, who guards our Marines from a foxhole in Iraq. I pray they will not lose life or limb while they serve, and that they will keep their humanity while they practice or perform the art of war.
Tonight I also think of those presidents - John Kennedy, Lyndon Johnson, and George W. Bush -who sent our troops to Viet Nam in 1965 and to Iraq in 2003, our wars of choice. I do not honor them - I detest them. The soldiers who fought deserve our respect, but these leaders deserve our scorn. It's a crime to send our soldiers into war if our country has not been attacked or in immanent jeopardy. How can these men ever be honored? What other accomplishments can offset the human tragedy they initiated? The office of Commander in Chief is a curse, not a task to be relished. Please, Obama, get it right!
When will war become obsolete? Doesn't the world have enough resources for all to share and all to prosper? Doesn't the world face greater long long term threats than conflict between countries? Haven't we memorialized enough broken men? It's time for change.
Saturday, May 23, 2009
I Love Spring in Rochester, NY!
Rochester, New York, is a northern city sited on Lake Ontario, the easternmost of the great lakes. As winter winds cross those lakes they pick up moisture that we see as snow - 101 inches of it, last winter. So, those of us who live here really appreciate Spring.
Rochester is known as the "Lilac City". Lilacs grow well here, and they are everywhere in all the colors. You can see pink and white lilacs in my back yard, to the right. Soon the day lilies and peonies in the foreground will be blooming, and the irises. Spring comes late in upstate New York, but it comes on strong! On Memorial Day weekend the gardeners go crazy with their planting of flowers and vegetables.
Rochester is fortunate to have avoided the real estate meltdown. We never had a "boom", so there was nothing to "bust". The city has not grown because the two major employers, Kodak and Xerox, have downsized a lot over the years. But we have many colleges and universities, health care facilities, and smaller high tech businesses that employ highly-paid professionals. Consequently, real estate prices have continued stable at about a 2% growth rate over many years, and homes are still a very good value. You could buy a home like the one in the picture, on .8 acres in a good location, for around $250,000. That would be the down payment on this property in some areas of the country!
I'm going back on the Appalachian Trail, June 1st. There's a 135-mile section that goes from near New York City to western Massachusetts that I've got to conquer. With my schedule, it will take two hikes (4 and 5 days, respectively) to accomplish that. After this section is done, I'll have a straight 519 miles from Vermont to Maine left in my long, long effort to do the entire trail. Perhaps I can knock off a few of those miles later this summer. What would life be if we didn't have goals?
Last night I got my computer set up to work on the SETI project. In the background, a program runs on both CPU's to analyze interstellar radio waves picked up by those giant antennas in Arizona (the ones featured in the movie, "Contact"). Perhaps I will be the one to identify the first coherent radio signals from another intelligent civilization...but, probably not. It's fun to try.
I hope Spring has been wonderful where you live. As it has for eons of humanity, Spring brings forth the optimism of the new and confirms the cycle of life. It reminds me of Genesis 8:22, where an ancient writer quoted God as saying, "While the earth lasts, seedtime and harvest, cold and heat, summer and winter, day and night, shall never cease". How sweet it is to be part of the pattern!
Wednesday, May 20, 2009
Chicken-Hearted Republicans
I've got to tell you, these congressional republicans give me many a belly-laugh, with the latest having to do with their stance on closing the Guantanamo Bay prison. It's a joke.
The idea is that we can't close Guantanamo because we can't bring any of these terrorists back to the U.S. and put them in prisons here. They would be too dangerous. They would threaten our security.
Now, this chicken-hearted complaint comes from those elected by the guys who think that Americans with guns can resolve every problem. You know, the kind of Americans who drive pickup trucks and drink beer from cans and watch "24" on Monday nights and guard our prisoners in prisons. You mean we can't trust these red-blooded Americans to competently guard a couple hundred Muslims in an American maximum-security prison? Our guys aren't good enough or smart enough? I'd never have guessed it.
On the other hand, I recently heard that a Montana town funded and built a nice new prison as a commercial project, but now they've got no takers to fill it up. They desperately want the Guantanamo guys, out there in the middle of nowhere, where there's no place to escape to and likely no local terrorist sympathizers, either. But, no-sirree, they can't have them. Too dangerous!
Now, let's think about this. We've got Mafia chieftains, Latin American drug lords, big time gang leaders, serial killers, and even some governors and congressmen in our prisons. We can't deal with a few backward Muslims? If we can't, then we are the bumblers that our republican members of congress seem to think we are. I don't sell us that short. Montana wants the bad guys. Let's let them have them.
The idea is that we can't close Guantanamo because we can't bring any of these terrorists back to the U.S. and put them in prisons here. They would be too dangerous. They would threaten our security.
Now, this chicken-hearted complaint comes from those elected by the guys who think that Americans with guns can resolve every problem. You know, the kind of Americans who drive pickup trucks and drink beer from cans and watch "24" on Monday nights and guard our prisoners in prisons. You mean we can't trust these red-blooded Americans to competently guard a couple hundred Muslims in an American maximum-security prison? Our guys aren't good enough or smart enough? I'd never have guessed it.
On the other hand, I recently heard that a Montana town funded and built a nice new prison as a commercial project, but now they've got no takers to fill it up. They desperately want the Guantanamo guys, out there in the middle of nowhere, where there's no place to escape to and likely no local terrorist sympathizers, either. But, no-sirree, they can't have them. Too dangerous!
Now, let's think about this. We've got Mafia chieftains, Latin American drug lords, big time gang leaders, serial killers, and even some governors and congressmen in our prisons. We can't deal with a few backward Muslims? If we can't, then we are the bumblers that our republican members of congress seem to think we are. I don't sell us that short. Montana wants the bad guys. Let's let them have them.
Monday, May 18, 2009
Pictures by Popular Demand
ThomasLB asked for pictures of my recent AT experience. Here's a few.To the left is me, from my hike two weeks ago. I've been working out since January, so I'm a little more brawny than usual. The poles are typically used by AT hikers, since they help to keep one from falling off the mountains, a problem that presents itself on many occasions.
To the right is a view from halfway up Mt. Greylock, which has an elevation change of 2,800 vertical feet - think 280 stories up and 280 stories down. It was drizzling when I took this photo, and the drizzle changed to a driving rain and dense fog by the time I reached the summit. The wind was also intense, but - luckily - no lightning!
This handsome young man uses the "trail name" of Taj Mahal. We all have trail names - mine has been "X-Man" for ten years. I met Taj in a shelter at the top of Mt. Greylock, where both of us were taking a break from the rain and 60 mph winds. He'd been hiking for a few weeks, thru PA, NJ, NY, CN, and now MA. We spent a cordial hour together, part of it spent trying, unsuccessfully, to build a fire in the fireplace. Taj is an unemployed computer jockey from New York City who figured a jaunt on the AT was a good way to kill time until the economy recovers.
Here's a nice little strean with convenient stones on which to cross it. The white mark on the tree is called a "blaze", which shows AT hikers where the trail goes. Often, without blazes one would be totally lost in minutes. Not a good thing.
I love the Appalachian Trail. It's beautiful, varied, difficult, quiet, and very long. Having now hiked 1,462 miles of it, I only have 716 to go. Almost there! I'll knock off another 139 miles in June, I hope. Anybody want to come along?
Friday, May 15, 2009
The Costly Hike, and Dumping on Democrats
I'm back. It took me 14 hours of hiking to cover the 23 miles of Massachusetts "Birkshires" that I needed to clean up. Unfortunately, I had to drive 9 hours and spend $175 to make it happen.
Thursday I did the 14 miles up and down Mt. Greylock, which is a serious mountain. It drizzed or rained all but two hours, and the winds gusted up to 60 miles per hour. Fortunately, the mountain is tree-covered except for the summit, so I didn't get blown off it. Also, the rain was cold, so all the energy I put into climbing and descending went into keeping me warm instead of creating an ocean of sweat.
This morning I raced the 9 or 10 miles into Dalton, Massachusetts, completing this pretty easy section in 4.5 hours so I could get back to my car and drive home in the afternoon. How did I get back to my car? Easy. There's an older guy in Dalton named "Tom" who makes a career out of helping AT hikers. I just knocked on his front door, introduced myself, and asked him to take me back to my car. Ten minutes later we were on our way. Gratis. Tom wouldn't take cash, gas for his car, or my offer to add to his personal "fund for desperate hikers". Don't tell me there aren't a lot of really good people out there; "Tom" is one of them.
I watched Pelosi's lame explanation of her non-awareness of the Bush torture program. Nancy doesn't do much for me. In fact, neither Reed nor Pelosi seem up to the jobs they hold. What is it about the democratic party? Without Obama they'd be lost.
Thursday I did the 14 miles up and down Mt. Greylock, which is a serious mountain. It drizzed or rained all but two hours, and the winds gusted up to 60 miles per hour. Fortunately, the mountain is tree-covered except for the summit, so I didn't get blown off it. Also, the rain was cold, so all the energy I put into climbing and descending went into keeping me warm instead of creating an ocean of sweat.
This morning I raced the 9 or 10 miles into Dalton, Massachusetts, completing this pretty easy section in 4.5 hours so I could get back to my car and drive home in the afternoon. How did I get back to my car? Easy. There's an older guy in Dalton named "Tom" who makes a career out of helping AT hikers. I just knocked on his front door, introduced myself, and asked him to take me back to my car. Ten minutes later we were on our way. Gratis. Tom wouldn't take cash, gas for his car, or my offer to add to his personal "fund for desperate hikers". Don't tell me there aren't a lot of really good people out there; "Tom" is one of them.
I watched Pelosi's lame explanation of her non-awareness of the Bush torture program. Nancy doesn't do much for me. In fact, neither Reed nor Pelosi seem up to the jobs they hold. What is it about the democratic party? Without Obama they'd be lost.
Wednesday, May 06, 2009
A Blackberry Boy
My oldest son, Kevin, visited last week. Since he last visited, he'd changed his Treo for a Blackberry, so he showed me his new gizmo. Kevin is a sales manager, and he keeps his life in his PDA. He "encourged" me once again to upgrade my humble cell phone, the one I barely know how to use even though I'm a computer techie of sorts.
Yesterday I bought the Blackberry with the entire communications package. After one day of use, I don't know how I ever got along without it. It really simplifies my life, especially since I don't have to drag my laptop around to all my stopping places. It's simple to operate, small enough to be unobtrusive, and it's kind of cute. The camera is good enough to take a real picture, and you can send the picture to someone almost in real time. For a few more bucks you can add GPS capability to your shirt pocket. This is technology that makes sense!
Please join me in welcoming me to the 21st century.
Yesterday I bought the Blackberry with the entire communications package. After one day of use, I don't know how I ever got along without it. It really simplifies my life, especially since I don't have to drag my laptop around to all my stopping places. It's simple to operate, small enough to be unobtrusive, and it's kind of cute. The camera is good enough to take a real picture, and you can send the picture to someone almost in real time. For a few more bucks you can add GPS capability to your shirt pocket. This is technology that makes sense!
Please join me in welcoming me to the 21st century.
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