Ten minutes.
Ten freakin' minutes!
Granted, it's not a big slice of time. It's a mere blink in the context of one's entire life.
But should I really have to wait 10 minutes for a toaster oven to toast a piece of bread? And, even longer if it's an English muffin?
Here's why it's annoying. When a toaster is involved, it's usually during a meal that tends to be rushed. How many people grab breakfast running out the door in the morning? Or take lunch as a quick break from work?
That's why the "10-minute toasting" is a problem. It's an inefficient, nonsensical waste of time in a world where time is increasingly the most important commodity.
It hasn't always been like this. Until about five years ago, my toaster oven browned that bread, or bagel, or English muffin, in no time. It was wonderfully fast. Granted, the toaster oven wasn't the most attractive appliance, but that's another story ...
About five years ago, Nancy and I replaced that good old reliable - if a bit worn - toaster oven. Here's where I learned that not all are created equal. Suddenly it took twice as long to get some bread browned. At first it was just an acclimation issue, but increasingly became infuriating.
I thought it was just that particular brand, an appliance brand that I have since learned to avoid when it comes to cooking implements. So we replaced it. And I learned that it wasn't any particular brand - no sir, this was apparently a trend.
The new toaster oven, now about four months old, takes even longer. So long, in fact, that one day I finally timed it. You got it - 10 minutes!
Now, I understand why this has all occurred. Anyone living in our modern society can figure it out. One or two people got drunk, put something in a toaster oven, passed out, and burned their house(s) (or apartment(s)) down. And, of course, they sued the appliance maker - because it obviously was the toaster oven's fault - and won.
The manufacturers responded in an expected way - they drastically reduced the power of the appliances. So now the rest of us have to suffer through interminably long waits just to get a piece of toast. Heaven help the poor parents who have to wait on a painfully slow toaster oven while their hungry kids screech away in the background.
No, 10 minutes isn't a big slice of time in the grand scheme of things. And maybe this is really just all about impatience. But people are more pressed for time more than ever these days, and having to wait so long for something that used to be so quick can register pretty high on the aggravation scale.
It just seems like another example of responsible people paying for the actions of the irresponsible. No, I can't prove it, but the hunch is pretty strong. Let me give it some thought. After all, I have 10 minutes while my toast gets done.
Saturday, November 21, 2009
Thursday, September 17, 2009
I won't drink to that
There's a longstanding debate among football fans: college or pro?
This missive isn't about tackling (no pun intended - OK, well maybe) that topic. Let's consider instead the off-field issue of what it's like for the fan in the stands.
I had a great time a week ago at the Badgers game at legendary Camp Randall Stadium in Madison. The game was exciting, the fans exuberant - most will admit that is a staple of the college game - and the day, overall, very enjoyable.
Here's where the admission comes in - I'm a pro football fan. Yes, the NFL is a big-money, big-ego, price-the-average-fan-out-of-the-game business. Still, like the hordes of other NFL junkies across our fruited plains, I can't get enough of the hard hits and terrific athleticism that make pro football exciting viewing.
So that got me thinking: Why was the Badger game so downright enjoyable? It didn't take too long to figure it out.
Anyone who has ever attended a game at Lambeau Field (the other football shrine in wacky Wisconsin) has seen one, if not five or ten or fifteen, completely soused fans stumbling around. They bump into people, yell inane remarks and generally annoy other fans. These fans usually have put in a good bout of pregame imbibing, then come into the stadium and keep the party going via the beer tap.
Herein, I realized, lies the difference. No beer (or any other alcohol) is sold at Camp Randall Stadium.
This is not to say that drinking isn't part of the Badger game experience for many fans. Heck, the game we attended was at 11 a.m., and the alcohol was flowing cold and constant everywhere at parties and bars beforehand. People were celebrating a fall tradition, and putting away a few drinks beforehand was part of it. This is Wisconsin, after all, where drinking is a big part of our culture.
Wait a minute - is that an oxymoron? "Culture" and beer bongs? Not your average definition, to be sure.
But that's where it ended. Once inside the hallowed football hall, no more booze was available. Zero. Zippo. The exception is sneaking it in, and getting caught means, to paraphrase a famous "Seinfeld" episode, "No football for you!"
So, anyone who entered inebriated to some level was generally calming down by the second quarter. There was nothing to keep their intoxicated state going. Hence, the game experience was more enjoyable for everyone around them as any idiotic behavior was slowly quelled.
Contrast this to Lambeau Field, where anyone of legal age can buy beer until the end of the third quarter. There's no limit, either - if you can drink 10 beers in that roughly 2-1/2-hour period, then knock yourself out (pun fully intended). If you can afford it, you can get it.
People take full advantage of this, often to the detriment of those around them. I can't imagine taking a kid to a Packers game given the foul language and boorish behavior that is commonplace there, much of it fueled by alcohol.
Here's a true story. I attended a Packers game several years ago and sat next to a slightly older man and his adult son. The younger man consumed three 24-ounce beers by the third quarter and was in full demonstration of his alcohol-soaked cranium. After an official's call that he disagreed with, the inebriated offspring was fully vocalizing his plans to kill the referee after the game.
"He's dead. He's dead" he repeatedly slurred to his father, who seemed aware that this didn't exactly resemble a bonding moment from "Leave it to Beaver."
There were no similar proud father-son moments at the Badger game. Instead, people cheered, people got on their feet without falling over, and no one yelled boorish remarks that would make a sailor cringe.
I don't recall when alcohol sales were banned at Camp Randall - 15 or 20 years ago, I think - but I dare say they got it right. The stadium is a family friendly atmosphere that represents what's best about sports. It's almost enough to make a hardcore NFL fan rethink his ways.
As for the drunken louts at Lambeau Field, they have reached the pinnacle of affecting public policy. When several roundabouts were recently proposed for roadways near the stadium, a state legislator objected to the plan.
His reason? You might want to sit down for this.
Rep. Jim Soletski was concerned that inebriated drivers leaving Packers games might not be able to navigate the Euro-originated design. Thank goodness he was concerned about them not hurting anyone! Or, then again, maybe that wasn't quite the point.
The old "inmates running the asylum" analogy doesn't quite fit here. It's more like "letting the drunks who we want to keep off the roads determine the design of the roads." It's catering to the lowest common denominator. It's letting sound public policy be dictated by fools who show up, on average, exactly 10 days out of every 365-day year.
The Badgers, on the other hand, play only eight home games a year. Their fans don't walk out of the stadium totally blitzed.
You don't have to be a math major to figure out which scenario sounds better, do you?
This missive isn't about tackling (no pun intended - OK, well maybe) that topic. Let's consider instead the off-field issue of what it's like for the fan in the stands.
I had a great time a week ago at the Badgers game at legendary Camp Randall Stadium in Madison. The game was exciting, the fans exuberant - most will admit that is a staple of the college game - and the day, overall, very enjoyable.
Here's where the admission comes in - I'm a pro football fan. Yes, the NFL is a big-money, big-ego, price-the-average-fan-out-of-the-game business. Still, like the hordes of other NFL junkies across our fruited plains, I can't get enough of the hard hits and terrific athleticism that make pro football exciting viewing.
So that got me thinking: Why was the Badger game so downright enjoyable? It didn't take too long to figure it out.
Anyone who has ever attended a game at Lambeau Field (the other football shrine in wacky Wisconsin) has seen one, if not five or ten or fifteen, completely soused fans stumbling around. They bump into people, yell inane remarks and generally annoy other fans. These fans usually have put in a good bout of pregame imbibing, then come into the stadium and keep the party going via the beer tap.
Herein, I realized, lies the difference. No beer (or any other alcohol) is sold at Camp Randall Stadium.
This is not to say that drinking isn't part of the Badger game experience for many fans. Heck, the game we attended was at 11 a.m., and the alcohol was flowing cold and constant everywhere at parties and bars beforehand. People were celebrating a fall tradition, and putting away a few drinks beforehand was part of it. This is Wisconsin, after all, where drinking is a big part of our culture.
Wait a minute - is that an oxymoron? "Culture" and beer bongs? Not your average definition, to be sure.
But that's where it ended. Once inside the hallowed football hall, no more booze was available. Zero. Zippo. The exception is sneaking it in, and getting caught means, to paraphrase a famous "Seinfeld" episode, "No football for you!"
So, anyone who entered inebriated to some level was generally calming down by the second quarter. There was nothing to keep their intoxicated state going. Hence, the game experience was more enjoyable for everyone around them as any idiotic behavior was slowly quelled.
Contrast this to Lambeau Field, where anyone of legal age can buy beer until the end of the third quarter. There's no limit, either - if you can drink 10 beers in that roughly 2-1/2-hour period, then knock yourself out (pun fully intended). If you can afford it, you can get it.
People take full advantage of this, often to the detriment of those around them. I can't imagine taking a kid to a Packers game given the foul language and boorish behavior that is commonplace there, much of it fueled by alcohol.
Here's a true story. I attended a Packers game several years ago and sat next to a slightly older man and his adult son. The younger man consumed three 24-ounce beers by the third quarter and was in full demonstration of his alcohol-soaked cranium. After an official's call that he disagreed with, the inebriated offspring was fully vocalizing his plans to kill the referee after the game.
"He's dead. He's dead" he repeatedly slurred to his father, who seemed aware that this didn't exactly resemble a bonding moment from "Leave it to Beaver."
There were no similar proud father-son moments at the Badger game. Instead, people cheered, people got on their feet without falling over, and no one yelled boorish remarks that would make a sailor cringe.
I don't recall when alcohol sales were banned at Camp Randall - 15 or 20 years ago, I think - but I dare say they got it right. The stadium is a family friendly atmosphere that represents what's best about sports. It's almost enough to make a hardcore NFL fan rethink his ways.
As for the drunken louts at Lambeau Field, they have reached the pinnacle of affecting public policy. When several roundabouts were recently proposed for roadways near the stadium, a state legislator objected to the plan.
His reason? You might want to sit down for this.
Rep. Jim Soletski was concerned that inebriated drivers leaving Packers games might not be able to navigate the Euro-originated design. Thank goodness he was concerned about them not hurting anyone! Or, then again, maybe that wasn't quite the point.
The old "inmates running the asylum" analogy doesn't quite fit here. It's more like "letting the drunks who we want to keep off the roads determine the design of the roads." It's catering to the lowest common denominator. It's letting sound public policy be dictated by fools who show up, on average, exactly 10 days out of every 365-day year.
The Badgers, on the other hand, play only eight home games a year. Their fans don't walk out of the stadium totally blitzed.
You don't have to be a math major to figure out which scenario sounds better, do you?
Thursday, August 20, 2009
It's not all about you
It happened again recently.
I was at a networking event (not an uncommon occurrence when you're a small business owner) and approached a woman I hadn't met. I introduced myself and asked an introductory question or two - the standard stuff, i.e., what's your name, what do you do, etc.
(BLOGGER'S INTERCESSION: No names will be revealed to protect the guilty.)
OK, I'll say this much: She works for a phone operation. But that's all.
Anyhow, she answered the initial queries and stood there. So I asked a couple more questions about her business. She answered and, once again, stood there. I asked one or two more questions. By now it should be no surprise to hear that she answered them and, again, stood there.
The expected response from her - "And what do you do?" never materialized. Arrrgh. Why are you at a networking event, my dear, if you don't want to actually interact?
Anyone who does any level of successful networking understands one thing - it's all about give and take. You make an introduction, ask a few questions, then the other person does the same. You show interest in the other person, even if you figure out quickly that you'll never in a million years likely do business with them.
Why? It's common courtesy, for one thing. If someone takes an interest in you, you do the same for them. What's to lose?
From a business perspective, though, it's much bigger. You recognize that everybody knows someone. Maybe you won't ever send this person an invoice, but who do they know that might need your services?
Not everyone gets this, though. Call it the increasing self-absorption of our society, or the coming of age of a generation that grew up on technology at the expense of human interaction, or however you want to label it - when the person you're trying to get to know stares back at you with that blank look, the old saying "this just ain't right" practically screams in your ears.
This woman, by the way, isn't the first person with whom I've experienced this stony silence. There have been others. It's not limited to women, either - several were men. Social awkwardness is apparently not a gender issue.
Frankly, it's their loss. Business is built around relationships, so an inability to engage in what most people would consider "normal" conversation will greatly limit one's business potential.
Then again, maybe these people just really, truly didn't care about anyone besides themselves. The trick in networking, though, is to at least act like you do. Fake it, if you will.
But again, it's their business.
I was at a networking event (not an uncommon occurrence when you're a small business owner) and approached a woman I hadn't met. I introduced myself and asked an introductory question or two - the standard stuff, i.e., what's your name, what do you do, etc.
(BLOGGER'S INTERCESSION: No names will be revealed to protect the guilty.)
OK, I'll say this much: She works for a phone operation. But that's all.
Anyhow, she answered the initial queries and stood there. So I asked a couple more questions about her business. She answered and, once again, stood there. I asked one or two more questions. By now it should be no surprise to hear that she answered them and, again, stood there.
The expected response from her - "And what do you do?" never materialized. Arrrgh. Why are you at a networking event, my dear, if you don't want to actually interact?
Anyone who does any level of successful networking understands one thing - it's all about give and take. You make an introduction, ask a few questions, then the other person does the same. You show interest in the other person, even if you figure out quickly that you'll never in a million years likely do business with them.
Why? It's common courtesy, for one thing. If someone takes an interest in you, you do the same for them. What's to lose?
From a business perspective, though, it's much bigger. You recognize that everybody knows someone. Maybe you won't ever send this person an invoice, but who do they know that might need your services?
Not everyone gets this, though. Call it the increasing self-absorption of our society, or the coming of age of a generation that grew up on technology at the expense of human interaction, or however you want to label it - when the person you're trying to get to know stares back at you with that blank look, the old saying "this just ain't right" practically screams in your ears.
This woman, by the way, isn't the first person with whom I've experienced this stony silence. There have been others. It's not limited to women, either - several were men. Social awkwardness is apparently not a gender issue.
Frankly, it's their loss. Business is built around relationships, so an inability to engage in what most people would consider "normal" conversation will greatly limit one's business potential.
Then again, maybe these people just really, truly didn't care about anyone besides themselves. The trick in networking, though, is to at least act like you do. Fake it, if you will.
But again, it's their business.
Friday, August 7, 2009
It's been a long time
No, the title of this post is wrong. It's been FAR too long since I found a moment to scratch my head, organize some coherent thoughts and write them out here.
Running a small business will do that. It's forever, to borrow a line from REO Speedwagon's "157 Riverside Avenue" (you know, the song on the live album where Gary Ricrath and Kevin Cronin wage a guitar-vocal duel? You don't know it? OK, never mind), a situation of "not enough time and too many things to do."
Well, I've missed it. I hereby promise to do everything in my power to post something every week, even if it's a half-thought-out malapropism that leaves the reader saying "Huh?" Isn't that what the "comments" section is for, to say "What the heck are you blathering about?"
Props are in order to my good friend Keith Klein, president of OnYourMark, LLC, who provided a gentle nudge and reminded me that it's important to update this blog and, what's more, he enjoys reading it. I can't let down a friend, can I?
Keith's an interesting guy. He's a quintessential American success story of someone who has succeeded by wits, ingenuity, diligence and plain hard work. He has a sharp eye for technological trends - he started an Internet marketing company in 1994, back when most of us were still marveling over the fax machine!
Keith was kind enough to invite me to give a presentation on "PR 101" last week to Wisconsin Business Owners, a networking group he organizes. He videotaped it, too. The day before, we had a great time taping a "Wisconsin Business Owner" interview from his studio. Both will be posted online soon enough. Isn't that cool of him?
I'm fortunate to know many people who have been helpful as I've worked to get Lunar Communications launched. The good things in life certainly don't come easy. But it sure is more enjoyable when there are others willing to share an experience, lend a bit of advice or just offer a sympathetic ear now and then. I hope they all know how much it's appreciated.
Running a small business will do that. It's forever, to borrow a line from REO Speedwagon's "157 Riverside Avenue" (you know, the song on the live album where Gary Ricrath and Kevin Cronin wage a guitar-vocal duel? You don't know it? OK, never mind), a situation of "not enough time and too many things to do."
Well, I've missed it. I hereby promise to do everything in my power to post something every week, even if it's a half-thought-out malapropism that leaves the reader saying "Huh?" Isn't that what the "comments" section is for, to say "What the heck are you blathering about?"
Props are in order to my good friend Keith Klein, president of OnYourMark, LLC, who provided a gentle nudge and reminded me that it's important to update this blog and, what's more, he enjoys reading it. I can't let down a friend, can I?
Keith's an interesting guy. He's a quintessential American success story of someone who has succeeded by wits, ingenuity, diligence and plain hard work. He has a sharp eye for technological trends - he started an Internet marketing company in 1994, back when most of us were still marveling over the fax machine!
Keith was kind enough to invite me to give a presentation on "PR 101" last week to Wisconsin Business Owners, a networking group he organizes. He videotaped it, too. The day before, we had a great time taping a "Wisconsin Business Owner" interview from his studio. Both will be posted online soon enough. Isn't that cool of him?
I'm fortunate to know many people who have been helpful as I've worked to get Lunar Communications launched. The good things in life certainly don't come easy. But it sure is more enjoyable when there are others willing to share an experience, lend a bit of advice or just offer a sympathetic ear now and then. I hope they all know how much it's appreciated.
Saturday, June 13, 2009
The neverending season(s)
So here we are in mid-June, and if you're a sports fan that means - what? It's baseball season, right?
Well, yes and no.
True, baseball has been under way for just more than two months. Best of all, our vaunted Milwaukee Brewers are in first place in the National League Central Division (let's hope I can still write that in three months).
But, hard as it is to believe, it's still basketball season. The NBA Finals might not finish for nearly another week, which might come as a surprise to those who always thought of basketball as a winter sport.
Even hockey - yes, a sport played on an ice sheet even as temperatures hit the 90s in some places - just finished last night! What's worse, it starts again in four months!
It's obvious that some professional sports leagues never learned the meaning of "enough is enough." The seasons have gotten so long, the playoffs so diluted and stretched out, that only the most hardcore fans (and those whose teams are still contending) care at the end.
This isn't hard to figure out. Professional sports are a business above all, as cold as that sounds to some followers who live and die with their teams. It explains the contract holdouts, the complaints about playing time (playing time equals stats, which equals bigger contracts), the personal seat license fees at new stadiums, and the $7 beers at said stadiums (and older ones, as well). The more games played, the more TV coverage that gets paid for, the more revenue comes in.
But does the NBA really need an 82-game regular season to separate the contenders from the pretenders? Even then, only half the teams are eliminated from the playoffs!
Counting playoffs, the NBA season lasts a mind-boggling 8-1/2 months. It slops over into baseball and the warm summer, when the last thing that any sane person wants to do is sit inside and watch the finals of a league that started playing in November!
Sure, we could sit and discuss the merits (or demerits) of the NBA game, which many view as a bastardization of James Naismith's original idea. Anyone familiar with the rule of "continuance" in the NBA might find it hard to argue with that. Most NBA games are relegated to cable TV channels. Meanwhile, the bonkers network TV ratings generated by the annual NCAA tournament are evidence that many basketball fans vote with their remotes.
Let's get back to season lengths - baseball isn't much better, frankly. Its season lasts seven months. What baseball does correctly, however, is to only allow four teams from each of its two leagues into the playoffs. This creates much greater importance for the regular season (162 contests!) and exciting races at the end of that marathon.
If there's one sport that probably has it right, it's football. The NFL season lasts just over five months and only 16 regular-season games. Its finale, the Super Bowl, is a marketing and entertainment spectacular that Hollywood can only dream of. This might explain why the NFL is the pro sports juggernaut, the one league that consistently garners huge TV ratings and some perpetually sold-out stadiums.
What's the point of all this? Probably to blow off some steam, and express my ire at the arrogance of some sports executives - NBA's David Stern, are you listening? - who somehow believe that I should still care about their product long after its annual shelf life has expired.
I don't care, and I suspect there are many, many others who feel the same. Hockey in June - who are we kidding? Summer is here - let's get outside and enjoy it! In fact, let's go to the ballpark - the baseball park!
That said, I confess that I'll be mailing my ticket package order next week for the NBA's Milwaukee Bucks. I've been a lifelong fan and truly enjoy attending the games. But there's no hurry - the start of that season always means the onset of cold weather.
So, I'll be happy to wait - even if David Stern doesn't like it one bit.
Well, yes and no.
True, baseball has been under way for just more than two months. Best of all, our vaunted Milwaukee Brewers are in first place in the National League Central Division (let's hope I can still write that in three months).
But, hard as it is to believe, it's still basketball season. The NBA Finals might not finish for nearly another week, which might come as a surprise to those who always thought of basketball as a winter sport.
Even hockey - yes, a sport played on an ice sheet even as temperatures hit the 90s in some places - just finished last night! What's worse, it starts again in four months!
It's obvious that some professional sports leagues never learned the meaning of "enough is enough." The seasons have gotten so long, the playoffs so diluted and stretched out, that only the most hardcore fans (and those whose teams are still contending) care at the end.
This isn't hard to figure out. Professional sports are a business above all, as cold as that sounds to some followers who live and die with their teams. It explains the contract holdouts, the complaints about playing time (playing time equals stats, which equals bigger contracts), the personal seat license fees at new stadiums, and the $7 beers at said stadiums (and older ones, as well). The more games played, the more TV coverage that gets paid for, the more revenue comes in.
But does the NBA really need an 82-game regular season to separate the contenders from the pretenders? Even then, only half the teams are eliminated from the playoffs!
Counting playoffs, the NBA season lasts a mind-boggling 8-1/2 months. It slops over into baseball and the warm summer, when the last thing that any sane person wants to do is sit inside and watch the finals of a league that started playing in November!
Sure, we could sit and discuss the merits (or demerits) of the NBA game, which many view as a bastardization of James Naismith's original idea. Anyone familiar with the rule of "continuance" in the NBA might find it hard to argue with that. Most NBA games are relegated to cable TV channels. Meanwhile, the bonkers network TV ratings generated by the annual NCAA tournament are evidence that many basketball fans vote with their remotes.
Let's get back to season lengths - baseball isn't much better, frankly. Its season lasts seven months. What baseball does correctly, however, is to only allow four teams from each of its two leagues into the playoffs. This creates much greater importance for the regular season (162 contests!) and exciting races at the end of that marathon.
If there's one sport that probably has it right, it's football. The NFL season lasts just over five months and only 16 regular-season games. Its finale, the Super Bowl, is a marketing and entertainment spectacular that Hollywood can only dream of. This might explain why the NFL is the pro sports juggernaut, the one league that consistently garners huge TV ratings and some perpetually sold-out stadiums.
What's the point of all this? Probably to blow off some steam, and express my ire at the arrogance of some sports executives - NBA's David Stern, are you listening? - who somehow believe that I should still care about their product long after its annual shelf life has expired.
I don't care, and I suspect there are many, many others who feel the same. Hockey in June - who are we kidding? Summer is here - let's get outside and enjoy it! In fact, let's go to the ballpark - the baseball park!
That said, I confess that I'll be mailing my ticket package order next week for the NBA's Milwaukee Bucks. I've been a lifelong fan and truly enjoy attending the games. But there's no hurry - the start of that season always means the onset of cold weather.
So, I'll be happy to wait - even if David Stern doesn't like it one bit.
Saturday, May 23, 2009
Memorial musings
Memorial Day is humbling, to say the least.
First, a full admission - I have never served in the military, nor had a family member killed or wounded in combat. It's this "distance" from the realities of war that, for many people, might make Memorial Day just another extended weekend.
It's hard to believe that anyone can be so blissfully ignorant, with our service men and women fighting in Iraq and Afghanistan (and serving in peacetime outposts in far-flung places such as South Korea and the Balkans). Yet, in a day and age when an amazing number of people can recite every "American Idol" development but are dumbfounded when asked to name their Congressman, perhaps it's not so surprising.
This blindedness to the importance of Memorial Day is probably due to current events. Let's face it - Iraq has largely fallen off the daily news headlines, a positive development due to the great drop in American casualties. Afghanistan is a powder keg intertwined with developments in Pakistan, a conflict that could blow up any moment and holds the very real risk of nuclear weapons falling into terrorists' hands. Yet it hasn't received the attention it really deserves and, if it did, who knows if most Americans would really notice? After all, it's been 8-1/2 years since 9/11. A false sense of security has probably been lulled into folks.
Back to Memorial Day. It's extremely humbling to consider the number of Americans who fought, suffered and often died horrific deaths so that we could, for example, freely write blogs. Can you imagine the cold, hard fear in the guts of soldiers riding landing craft onto the beaches at Normandy? Or charging across open fields toward fortified enemies in the Civil War? Or facing off against the better-armed and better-trained British in the Revolutionary War?
Maybe we can imagine, but can't relate, because we've never been there. That's easy enough to understand. But here's what brings it home for me.
Our neighbor's son is in Iraq. It's his second tour there. He's the nicest guy, always smiling and glad to see you. He's a full-time National Guardsman. He joined the service after 9/11 to make a difference.
And he has. I think of him every day over there. It's given me a much more personal, emotional tie to military personnel and their often hazardous jobs.
The emotional carnage that his family would undergo, should something happen to him, is indescribable. Even now, when I ask his father how he's doing, I catch the hitch in his speech and distant look in his eyes. Every day must be a 24-hour stress fest, fearing a phone call that no parent ever wants to get.
I'll never forget one experience of a soldier returning home. The son-in-law of some friends from church served in Iraq shortly after the 2003 invasion. He's also a good guy, someone I've played alongside with in softball and volleyball.
We were at a church event, and I looked across at the next table, and - could it be? - there he was. He was home from Iraq on leave. It was like seeing a ghost, only from the sense of disbelief. Nancy and I were filled with joy and rushed over to greet him. It was indescribable, the mix of happiness and relief to see that he was actually back, and unharmed, and seemingly the same as before.
It was the same feeling when our neighbor's son came back from his first tour in Iraq. He was as happy and smiling as ever, even though he acknowledged that, yes, he likely would be sent back for another tour. But for the moment, all was well. I could have talked to him for hours.
I'm sure there are millions of others across our land who feel the same way about someone they know. We all want that opportunity, just to see that person(s) alive and well again. It might not seem like much to ask. But it is. And on Memorial Day, that sense of need - and humility - is reinforced like never before.
First, a full admission - I have never served in the military, nor had a family member killed or wounded in combat. It's this "distance" from the realities of war that, for many people, might make Memorial Day just another extended weekend.
It's hard to believe that anyone can be so blissfully ignorant, with our service men and women fighting in Iraq and Afghanistan (and serving in peacetime outposts in far-flung places such as South Korea and the Balkans). Yet, in a day and age when an amazing number of people can recite every "American Idol" development but are dumbfounded when asked to name their Congressman, perhaps it's not so surprising.
This blindedness to the importance of Memorial Day is probably due to current events. Let's face it - Iraq has largely fallen off the daily news headlines, a positive development due to the great drop in American casualties. Afghanistan is a powder keg intertwined with developments in Pakistan, a conflict that could blow up any moment and holds the very real risk of nuclear weapons falling into terrorists' hands. Yet it hasn't received the attention it really deserves and, if it did, who knows if most Americans would really notice? After all, it's been 8-1/2 years since 9/11. A false sense of security has probably been lulled into folks.
Back to Memorial Day. It's extremely humbling to consider the number of Americans who fought, suffered and often died horrific deaths so that we could, for example, freely write blogs. Can you imagine the cold, hard fear in the guts of soldiers riding landing craft onto the beaches at Normandy? Or charging across open fields toward fortified enemies in the Civil War? Or facing off against the better-armed and better-trained British in the Revolutionary War?
Maybe we can imagine, but can't relate, because we've never been there. That's easy enough to understand. But here's what brings it home for me.
Our neighbor's son is in Iraq. It's his second tour there. He's the nicest guy, always smiling and glad to see you. He's a full-time National Guardsman. He joined the service after 9/11 to make a difference.
And he has. I think of him every day over there. It's given me a much more personal, emotional tie to military personnel and their often hazardous jobs.
The emotional carnage that his family would undergo, should something happen to him, is indescribable. Even now, when I ask his father how he's doing, I catch the hitch in his speech and distant look in his eyes. Every day must be a 24-hour stress fest, fearing a phone call that no parent ever wants to get.
I'll never forget one experience of a soldier returning home. The son-in-law of some friends from church served in Iraq shortly after the 2003 invasion. He's also a good guy, someone I've played alongside with in softball and volleyball.
We were at a church event, and I looked across at the next table, and - could it be? - there he was. He was home from Iraq on leave. It was like seeing a ghost, only from the sense of disbelief. Nancy and I were filled with joy and rushed over to greet him. It was indescribable, the mix of happiness and relief to see that he was actually back, and unharmed, and seemingly the same as before.
It was the same feeling when our neighbor's son came back from his first tour in Iraq. He was as happy and smiling as ever, even though he acknowledged that, yes, he likely would be sent back for another tour. But for the moment, all was well. I could have talked to him for hours.
I'm sure there are millions of others across our land who feel the same way about someone they know. We all want that opportunity, just to see that person(s) alive and well again. It might not seem like much to ask. But it is. And on Memorial Day, that sense of need - and humility - is reinforced like never before.
Monday, April 27, 2009
A turn for the worse
Everyone has a fist-shaking moment now and then. Many undoubtedly occur on the road. Speaking of which, there's one particular inspiration that seems to be on the rise.
Let's set the picture. Maybe you've experienced this recently while driving. Here goes: "Why is this guy ahead of me slowing down? What's he doing? There's no one in front of him! He's almost at a complete stop! What the heck? What the - he's turning? Where's your signal, moron (or harsher name)? Thanks for letting me know, you idiot (or, once again, perhaps a harsher name)!"
You get the idea. The vehicle ahead of you slowed down for no apparent reason, then suddenly turned without signaling. It's irritating. It's discourteous. It's unsafe. And, based purely on personal observation, it seems to have increased by about 50 percent in recent years.
What's the cause?
Or maybe the better question is: Where to start?
Let's take the easy one first. Cell phones are an obvious culprit. We won't even get into the other obvious dangers of yakking on a cell phone while driving. Suffice to say, though, that the meteoric increase in cell phone usage seems to have directly coincided with the decrease in turn signal usage.
Obviously, if you have a phone in one hand, and the steering wheel in the other, the turn signal lever is odd implement out. If both hands are already busy, the signal won't be turned on. Even the most dramatic leaps in genetic engineering haven't solved that one.
Another explanation - and this is much harder to pinpoint, although there was a very interesting story on msn.com recently (http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/30312181/) - is the apparent rise in narcissism, especially among the younger set. This goes back to the (dis)courtesy thing. When you're certain that the world revolves around you, there's no need to concern oneself about inconveniencing others, such as making them wonder why you're suddenly slowing down for no obvious reason. Whatsa matter? Don't they know who you are?
Yet another possible reason - and I swear, this is again based solely on personal observation - is that people are just getting dumber, period. Have you ever known anyone who, after a while, leaves you wondering how they get through the day? People who fit the Wikipedia definition of "airhead?" People who just don't have their minds in the present place and present tense?
Given this state, can we reasonably expect such people to signal their driving intentions more than a split-second before carrying them out? My, how cold, callous, cruel and, dare I say it, judgmental. But I'll bet these people know who got booted out of "American Idol" last night!
Finally, you've heard some societal observers write about the "coarsening" of our human-to-human interaction. Maybe some drivers don't signal their turns because they just don't care. You, and anyone else in your vehicle, don't matter. Courtesy is something left to others. To heck with the rest of the world - I've got mine, so leave me alone. If you don't like it, then sc... you.
What to do? The old maxim about "drive defensively" comes to mind. That's probably good advice no matter the circumstances. If you don't know what the guy ahead of you is doing, give him safe distance to do it.
Here's an ironic twist. I recall a comedian long ago making a joke about cars designed for senior citizens. One feature he mentioned is that the vehicles' turn signals would be permanently turned on, a reference to vehicles driving down the highway with their drivers oblivious to a blinking signal. It was actually pretty darn funny.
Now, though, you have to wonder if maybe these older drivers couldn't teach the younger ones a thing or two. It seems that an awful lot of the non-signaling drivers out there are age 30 and younger. Don't they teach this in driver's ed any more? Regardless, can't you see a senior raising his gnarled fist and shaking it at the punk who just suddenly turned in front of him, all the while saying "Why, you young whippersnapper ..."
But for the sake of road peace everywhere, just be sure to keep all fingers clenched in the fist while shaking it. No single-digit extensions, OK?
Let's set the picture. Maybe you've experienced this recently while driving. Here goes: "Why is this guy ahead of me slowing down? What's he doing? There's no one in front of him! He's almost at a complete stop! What the heck? What the - he's turning? Where's your signal, moron (or harsher name)? Thanks for letting me know, you idiot (or, once again, perhaps a harsher name)!"
You get the idea. The vehicle ahead of you slowed down for no apparent reason, then suddenly turned without signaling. It's irritating. It's discourteous. It's unsafe. And, based purely on personal observation, it seems to have increased by about 50 percent in recent years.
What's the cause?
Or maybe the better question is: Where to start?
Let's take the easy one first. Cell phones are an obvious culprit. We won't even get into the other obvious dangers of yakking on a cell phone while driving. Suffice to say, though, that the meteoric increase in cell phone usage seems to have directly coincided with the decrease in turn signal usage.
Obviously, if you have a phone in one hand, and the steering wheel in the other, the turn signal lever is odd implement out. If both hands are already busy, the signal won't be turned on. Even the most dramatic leaps in genetic engineering haven't solved that one.
Another explanation - and this is much harder to pinpoint, although there was a very interesting story on msn.com recently (http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/30312181/) - is the apparent rise in narcissism, especially among the younger set. This goes back to the (dis)courtesy thing. When you're certain that the world revolves around you, there's no need to concern oneself about inconveniencing others, such as making them wonder why you're suddenly slowing down for no obvious reason. Whatsa matter? Don't they know who you are?
Yet another possible reason - and I swear, this is again based solely on personal observation - is that people are just getting dumber, period. Have you ever known anyone who, after a while, leaves you wondering how they get through the day? People who fit the Wikipedia definition of "airhead?" People who just don't have their minds in the present place and present tense?
Given this state, can we reasonably expect such people to signal their driving intentions more than a split-second before carrying them out? My, how cold, callous, cruel and, dare I say it, judgmental. But I'll bet these people know who got booted out of "American Idol" last night!
Finally, you've heard some societal observers write about the "coarsening" of our human-to-human interaction. Maybe some drivers don't signal their turns because they just don't care. You, and anyone else in your vehicle, don't matter. Courtesy is something left to others. To heck with the rest of the world - I've got mine, so leave me alone. If you don't like it, then sc... you.
What to do? The old maxim about "drive defensively" comes to mind. That's probably good advice no matter the circumstances. If you don't know what the guy ahead of you is doing, give him safe distance to do it.
Here's an ironic twist. I recall a comedian long ago making a joke about cars designed for senior citizens. One feature he mentioned is that the vehicles' turn signals would be permanently turned on, a reference to vehicles driving down the highway with their drivers oblivious to a blinking signal. It was actually pretty darn funny.
Now, though, you have to wonder if maybe these older drivers couldn't teach the younger ones a thing or two. It seems that an awful lot of the non-signaling drivers out there are age 30 and younger. Don't they teach this in driver's ed any more? Regardless, can't you see a senior raising his gnarled fist and shaking it at the punk who just suddenly turned in front of him, all the while saying "Why, you young whippersnapper ..."
But for the sake of road peace everywhere, just be sure to keep all fingers clenched in the fist while shaking it. No single-digit extensions, OK?
Monday, March 23, 2009
Which way is up?
Behold: The Two-Tier Toilet.
I recently encountered this revelation in an East Side coffee shop. The company that owns this shop takes great pride in touting its environmental ethic. Good for it - environmentalism works best when coupled with sound economics.
Back to the toilet. Please note that the name I tagged it with has nothing to do with the height of the unit. It doesn't refer to some strange configuration that has one part stacked atop another. And, it most certainly doesn't relate to any design that would be preferred by someone like Larry Craig (he of the "wide stance" - remember?)
No, this one is much simpler. Ready?
Up for liquid wastes. Down for solid wastes. It's what the sign reads.
The toilet had a flush lever at its rear (no pun intended) like many commonly found in public restrooms. Most of the time you just reflexively push it down - it's what the design seems to dictate. Now, when encountering a Two-Tier Toilet, you need to think about it.
The design focuses on saving water. Clearly it takes less water to flush when the bowl liquid is merely stained a different color. Some hardcore "greenies" will insist that one shouldn't even flush at all in this scenario.
More water is needed for, as a business contact called it, "the big flush." Never heard any arguments against that one.
The intentions of the Two-Tier Toilet are good. We should strive to use water wisely. Here in the Midwest, living alongside the largest freshwater source in the world (the Great Lakes), we are far too cavalier about water use. It's easy to forget that many parts of the U.S. suffer long droughts with regularity.
On an international scale, many futurists have predicted that wars will eventually be fought not over oil, but over water. People can live to a certain extent without oil. People can't live without water.
So maybe the Two-Tier Toilet is onto something. Maybe this design - and its accompanying explanatory signs - will soon appear in other places besides this particular coffee shop. It can be a conversation starter if nothing else.
But here's where the Two-Tier Toilet falls short. It doesn't account for human curiousity. You see, I had to know the difference between the water levels in the two flushes. So I flushed it first up, and then again down. In the process, I used twice as much water as needed and completely obviated the admirable goal of the Two-Tier Toilet. And I doubt I'm the only one to do this.
Like most guys faced with this particular toilet design - i.e., a flush lever - I used my foot to initiate the flush. Touch it with a hand? Surely you jest. That would require a twice-as-long period for the obligatory washing afterward. We don't want to waste water, do we?
I recently encountered this revelation in an East Side coffee shop. The company that owns this shop takes great pride in touting its environmental ethic. Good for it - environmentalism works best when coupled with sound economics.
Back to the toilet. Please note that the name I tagged it with has nothing to do with the height of the unit. It doesn't refer to some strange configuration that has one part stacked atop another. And, it most certainly doesn't relate to any design that would be preferred by someone like Larry Craig (he of the "wide stance" - remember?)
No, this one is much simpler. Ready?
Up for liquid wastes. Down for solid wastes. It's what the sign reads.
The toilet had a flush lever at its rear (no pun intended) like many commonly found in public restrooms. Most of the time you just reflexively push it down - it's what the design seems to dictate. Now, when encountering a Two-Tier Toilet, you need to think about it.
The design focuses on saving water. Clearly it takes less water to flush when the bowl liquid is merely stained a different color. Some hardcore "greenies" will insist that one shouldn't even flush at all in this scenario.
More water is needed for, as a business contact called it, "the big flush." Never heard any arguments against that one.
The intentions of the Two-Tier Toilet are good. We should strive to use water wisely. Here in the Midwest, living alongside the largest freshwater source in the world (the Great Lakes), we are far too cavalier about water use. It's easy to forget that many parts of the U.S. suffer long droughts with regularity.
On an international scale, many futurists have predicted that wars will eventually be fought not over oil, but over water. People can live to a certain extent without oil. People can't live without water.
So maybe the Two-Tier Toilet is onto something. Maybe this design - and its accompanying explanatory signs - will soon appear in other places besides this particular coffee shop. It can be a conversation starter if nothing else.
But here's where the Two-Tier Toilet falls short. It doesn't account for human curiousity. You see, I had to know the difference between the water levels in the two flushes. So I flushed it first up, and then again down. In the process, I used twice as much water as needed and completely obviated the admirable goal of the Two-Tier Toilet. And I doubt I'm the only one to do this.
Like most guys faced with this particular toilet design - i.e., a flush lever - I used my foot to initiate the flush. Touch it with a hand? Surely you jest. That would require a twice-as-long period for the obligatory washing afterward. We don't want to waste water, do we?
Thursday, March 12, 2009
Read if you can stomach it
Here's where you can access the 353-page contract for Wisconsin state workers represented by AFSCME, the nation's largest public employees union.
If you want to hit a few of the high (low?) points, go to page 60 and learn how employees are granted "reasonable and adequate personal wash-up time" prior to meal breaks and at the end of a shift. Obviously this has to be a bargained issue because we can't expect competent workers to do this in a discretionary time frame, nor their supervisors to allow them to do so.
Skip a bit further down the page and learn how, if employees are called back to work after leaving or asked to come in on a day off, they are guaranteed a minimum of 2-1/2 hours of pay or four hours of work with pay. This means that, if an employee is called into work on their day off to locate a file, for example, they get paid for 2-1/2 hours even if the task takes only five minutes. Where else in the world does this occur? If your boss calls you into work on an off-day, what else do you get besides a "thanks" and pay for your actual time worked?
Heard enough? Of course not. Let's go to page 171, where the "Employee Benefits" section starts. Here's where you'll see how state AFSCME employees can get family health insurance coverage for as little as $78 a month in premium sharing!
Don't run away just yet - we still have the "Sick Leave" section, which starts on page 173. Here's where you'll learn how unused sick leave is accrued throughout an employee's career. When they retire, the accrued amount is converted to an account that is used to pay for continuing health insurance coverage! Obviously the term COBRA - well-known to private-sector workers in this hard-hitting recession - is not in the state employees' vernacular.
There's a lot more to be explored here, but be warned: Do so at the risk of your head exploding. And unless you have state employee health insurance coverage, that could be a real problem.
If you want to hit a few of the high (low?) points, go to page 60 and learn how employees are granted "reasonable and adequate personal wash-up time" prior to meal breaks and at the end of a shift. Obviously this has to be a bargained issue because we can't expect competent workers to do this in a discretionary time frame, nor their supervisors to allow them to do so.
Skip a bit further down the page and learn how, if employees are called back to work after leaving or asked to come in on a day off, they are guaranteed a minimum of 2-1/2 hours of pay or four hours of work with pay. This means that, if an employee is called into work on their day off to locate a file, for example, they get paid for 2-1/2 hours even if the task takes only five minutes. Where else in the world does this occur? If your boss calls you into work on an off-day, what else do you get besides a "thanks" and pay for your actual time worked?
Heard enough? Of course not. Let's go to page 171, where the "Employee Benefits" section starts. Here's where you'll see how state AFSCME employees can get family health insurance coverage for as little as $78 a month in premium sharing!
Don't run away just yet - we still have the "Sick Leave" section, which starts on page 173. Here's where you'll learn how unused sick leave is accrued throughout an employee's career. When they retire, the accrued amount is converted to an account that is used to pay for continuing health insurance coverage! Obviously the term COBRA - well-known to private-sector workers in this hard-hitting recession - is not in the state employees' vernacular.
There's a lot more to be explored here, but be warned: Do so at the risk of your head exploding. And unless you have state employee health insurance coverage, that could be a real problem.
Tuesday, March 3, 2009
Good work (if you can get it)
"Well I lost my job down at the factory, lost my money in the lottery"
- The BoDeans
During his two failed runs for the U.S. Presidency, former North Carolina Senator John Edwards liked to talk about the "two Americas" that he claimed existed.
The difference, he believed, was between wealthy and non-wealthy citizens. It was a key element of a very populist message that resonated with many voters.
Of course, that was before Sen. Clean Cut got caught sneaking out of his mistress's hotel room, by the National Enquirer no less. Yes, the same publication that unearthed Gennifer Flowers in the early days of Bill Clinton's first presidential campaign. Obviously, one politician survived his scandal quite headily while the other hasn't been heard from since.
But Sen. Edwards was onto something, although not in the way he intended. There are indeed "two Americas" emerging.
In a time of economic upheaval not experienced for seven decades, jobs are dropping like flies and people's investment accounts are shrinking with heart-dropping speed. No one feels safe from the layoff axe - unless they work for the government, that is.
Faced with a $5+billion budget deficit, Wisconsin Gov. Jim Doyle announced that he has no plans to lay off or furlough state workers. Huh? Any economics simpleton knows that personnel costs are the biggest part of any business or government operating budget. Cutting personnel is the quickest way to reduce expenses. That's why businesses are shedding jobs left and right as they react to reduced income from a stalled economy.
State government, though, is not run anything like a business, as the Governor's proclamation once again illustrates. Unless jobs are reduced, the state budget deficit can only be eliminated by wholesale program cuts or tax increases. You get one guess as to which the Democratic governor will choose. He has shown his priorities, and top among them is protecting state employees.
The "two Americas," in case you haven't figured it out by now, is very simple: Those who work in the public sector and the rest of us. The first group has unparalleled job security, gold-plated benefits and - you thought these were extinct? - pensions! Oh, and did I mention that often they can retire as early as 50?
The rest of us? We get job security fears, ever-increasing benefit costs and retirement plans that we have to pay for. The balance in those retirement accounts ain't what it used to be, either.
Need more? The Elmbrook School District really bit the bullet recently. Wow. Such courage. It agreed to a two-year contract with its administrators that will increase the employees' share of health and dental insurance premiums from 3 to 5 percent! Oh my heavens! How ever will the employees afford this? And this is if they participate in a wellness program. If they don't partake of the program they have to pay - are you sitting down? - 10 percent of the premiums! The horror of it all!
The sarcasm is intended. Here's where it gets worse - the administrators also got a 4.1 percent salary increase! On average, that's an additional $3,500 a year!
I know what you're thinking: Where do I sign up? Because at a time when many private sector workers are getting minimal (if any) raises, these public employees keep cashing bigger paychecks. Yes, maybe they are paying slightly higher benefit costs, but don't forget that health insurance premium shares are usually pre-tax paycheck reductions, limiting their impact on net pay. In the case of the Elmbrook administrators, they likely broke even if not came out ahead financially.
If it all seems a bit galling, that's only because it is. Obviously employees are needed to run government operations - that's not the issue. There are many hard-working public-sector employees who earn an honest living.
But their pay and benefit packages are ultimately approved by elected officials. So at a time when so many workers are suffering financially, is it too much to expect our "leaders" to ask this segment of the working public to make a sacrifice? After all, they're paid from taxes, which are an unavoidable financial drain on every working citizen!
Don't hold your breath for it to happen. Government employment is an insular operation usually protected by unions, job rules and politicians that want the employees' votes.
Don't believe me? Check out how many of the approximately 67,000 state workers are represented by AFSCME, the biggest public employees union. Any doubt that Gov. Doyle wants to stay on their good side?
But then again, we know which of the "two Americas" he lives in.
- The BoDeans
During his two failed runs for the U.S. Presidency, former North Carolina Senator John Edwards liked to talk about the "two Americas" that he claimed existed.
The difference, he believed, was between wealthy and non-wealthy citizens. It was a key element of a very populist message that resonated with many voters.
Of course, that was before Sen. Clean Cut got caught sneaking out of his mistress's hotel room, by the National Enquirer no less. Yes, the same publication that unearthed Gennifer Flowers in the early days of Bill Clinton's first presidential campaign. Obviously, one politician survived his scandal quite headily while the other hasn't been heard from since.
But Sen. Edwards was onto something, although not in the way he intended. There are indeed "two Americas" emerging.
In a time of economic upheaval not experienced for seven decades, jobs are dropping like flies and people's investment accounts are shrinking with heart-dropping speed. No one feels safe from the layoff axe - unless they work for the government, that is.
Faced with a $5+billion budget deficit, Wisconsin Gov. Jim Doyle announced that he has no plans to lay off or furlough state workers. Huh? Any economics simpleton knows that personnel costs are the biggest part of any business or government operating budget. Cutting personnel is the quickest way to reduce expenses. That's why businesses are shedding jobs left and right as they react to reduced income from a stalled economy.
State government, though, is not run anything like a business, as the Governor's proclamation once again illustrates. Unless jobs are reduced, the state budget deficit can only be eliminated by wholesale program cuts or tax increases. You get one guess as to which the Democratic governor will choose. He has shown his priorities, and top among them is protecting state employees.
The "two Americas," in case you haven't figured it out by now, is very simple: Those who work in the public sector and the rest of us. The first group has unparalleled job security, gold-plated benefits and - you thought these were extinct? - pensions! Oh, and did I mention that often they can retire as early as 50?
The rest of us? We get job security fears, ever-increasing benefit costs and retirement plans that we have to pay for. The balance in those retirement accounts ain't what it used to be, either.
Need more? The Elmbrook School District really bit the bullet recently. Wow. Such courage. It agreed to a two-year contract with its administrators that will increase the employees' share of health and dental insurance premiums from 3 to 5 percent! Oh my heavens! How ever will the employees afford this? And this is if they participate in a wellness program. If they don't partake of the program they have to pay - are you sitting down? - 10 percent of the premiums! The horror of it all!
The sarcasm is intended. Here's where it gets worse - the administrators also got a 4.1 percent salary increase! On average, that's an additional $3,500 a year!
I know what you're thinking: Where do I sign up? Because at a time when many private sector workers are getting minimal (if any) raises, these public employees keep cashing bigger paychecks. Yes, maybe they are paying slightly higher benefit costs, but don't forget that health insurance premium shares are usually pre-tax paycheck reductions, limiting their impact on net pay. In the case of the Elmbrook administrators, they likely broke even if not came out ahead financially.
If it all seems a bit galling, that's only because it is. Obviously employees are needed to run government operations - that's not the issue. There are many hard-working public-sector employees who earn an honest living.
But their pay and benefit packages are ultimately approved by elected officials. So at a time when so many workers are suffering financially, is it too much to expect our "leaders" to ask this segment of the working public to make a sacrifice? After all, they're paid from taxes, which are an unavoidable financial drain on every working citizen!
Don't hold your breath for it to happen. Government employment is an insular operation usually protected by unions, job rules and politicians that want the employees' votes.
Don't believe me? Check out how many of the approximately 67,000 state workers are represented by AFSCME, the biggest public employees union. Any doubt that Gov. Doyle wants to stay on their good side?
But then again, we know which of the "two Americas" he lives in.
Monday, February 23, 2009
What price love (for a dog)?
At a time when everybody seems to be scraping to save money, and nobody walks past a quarter lying on the ground, we bring you a (sort of) related story from the animal kingdom (thank you, Bobby).
A family in Naperville, Ill., is preparing to spend $25,000 to treat its sick golden retriever. It's a very sad story and anyone who has ever had a beloved pet can relate. This dog isn't just sick, though - it has stage four lymphoma (cancer), a diagnosis that would stun into submission any human who received it. Maybe being a dog has its advantages.
The treatment involves stem cells, a flash point for some treatments bestowed upon people. But don't worry - there's no aborted dogs or other creatures involved. Put down the picket signs. The process involves taking healthy cells from the animal and returning them to its body after radiation treatment.
But the tab - possibly $25,000? Wow. Given the present economic climate, it's almost hard to believe anyone has that kind of money lying around, not to mention ready to spend on veterinary care (sorry if I sound like someone who's watched too many dire economic reports on MSNBC).
Ironically enough, one bit of fallout from the recession has been more and more people giving up their pets at shelters because they couldn't afford them anymore. And these are the lucky animals - at least they might be adopted by someone else. What about the ones whose owners just drop them off in the middle of nowhere and drive away? Irresponsibility and selfishness know no bounds.
Back to the Naperville dog. I completely understand how the pet's owners feel. Pets are wonderful because they give love unconditionally and without fail. It doesn't matter if you have a goiter the size of a watermelon - a pet will still think you're the most beautiful being in the world.
I can relate (a bit) to the Naperville family. My former cat, Sinbad, developed health problems late in life and I spent a LOT of money on him. But he was my best friend, and I loved him dearly, so it was worth it. I knew he wouldn't be around forever. When the time came I made the decision, and on that final day Nancy and I stroked him, wished him goodbye, told him we loved him and nodded to the vet to do what had to be done.
Obviously the Naperville family isn't ready for that. If they can afford the treatment, all the more power to them. If you consider it in a cold accountant-type fashion, the cost-benefit analysis surely doesn't work - the dog is 7 years old, and golden retrievers rarely live past 12. But this is a decision based purely on emotion, not logic.
Perhaps some observers would bemoan the family's decision, saying they should donate the money instead to a charity that provides medical care for people. I don't agree. It's their money, they earned it, they can spend it as they like. If it's on veterinary care, that's their decision.
One closing thought supersedes all: That's one darned lucky dog.
A family in Naperville, Ill., is preparing to spend $25,000 to treat its sick golden retriever. It's a very sad story and anyone who has ever had a beloved pet can relate. This dog isn't just sick, though - it has stage four lymphoma (cancer), a diagnosis that would stun into submission any human who received it. Maybe being a dog has its advantages.
The treatment involves stem cells, a flash point for some treatments bestowed upon people. But don't worry - there's no aborted dogs or other creatures involved. Put down the picket signs. The process involves taking healthy cells from the animal and returning them to its body after radiation treatment.
But the tab - possibly $25,000? Wow. Given the present economic climate, it's almost hard to believe anyone has that kind of money lying around, not to mention ready to spend on veterinary care (sorry if I sound like someone who's watched too many dire economic reports on MSNBC).
Ironically enough, one bit of fallout from the recession has been more and more people giving up their pets at shelters because they couldn't afford them anymore. And these are the lucky animals - at least they might be adopted by someone else. What about the ones whose owners just drop them off in the middle of nowhere and drive away? Irresponsibility and selfishness know no bounds.
Back to the Naperville dog. I completely understand how the pet's owners feel. Pets are wonderful because they give love unconditionally and without fail. It doesn't matter if you have a goiter the size of a watermelon - a pet will still think you're the most beautiful being in the world.
I can relate (a bit) to the Naperville family. My former cat, Sinbad, developed health problems late in life and I spent a LOT of money on him. But he was my best friend, and I loved him dearly, so it was worth it. I knew he wouldn't be around forever. When the time came I made the decision, and on that final day Nancy and I stroked him, wished him goodbye, told him we loved him and nodded to the vet to do what had to be done.
Obviously the Naperville family isn't ready for that. If they can afford the treatment, all the more power to them. If you consider it in a cold accountant-type fashion, the cost-benefit analysis surely doesn't work - the dog is 7 years old, and golden retrievers rarely live past 12. But this is a decision based purely on emotion, not logic.
Perhaps some observers would bemoan the family's decision, saying they should donate the money instead to a charity that provides medical care for people. I don't agree. It's their money, they earned it, they can spend it as they like. If it's on veterinary care, that's their decision.
One closing thought supersedes all: That's one darned lucky dog.
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
Eight is more than enough
The topic of the "Octomom" in California is just too juicy to pass up. It's almost as if this whole situation arose just to provide fodder for online commentators. It's the proverbial slow pitch right over the middle of the plate, just ready to be hit out of the park.
For anyone who might have been living in a cave the past month, the "Octomom" is a 30-something-year-old woman who recently bore eight children. The children were conceived in vitro. The woman has six other children, all under the age of 7. She is divorced and unemployed.
Let the insanity begin!
The only question is, where to start?
A Feb. 17 news report cited a $1.5 million cost so far - paid by California taxpayers - to care for the eight children, all still in the hospital. Given that children of such huge multiple births often have lifelong health issues, we can presume that the public tab will keep growing.
The mother already receives disability and public assistance payments from the state for at least two of her other children. Cha-ching! The public subsidy for her family grows further.
There is no father in the picture. This factor goes well beyond the mere need for many sets of hands (and hearts) to care for 14 children, eight of them infants. The bigger point is, in one fell swoop we have 14 children growing up without a male role model in their lives.
Children deserve to have a father. A male parent brings a whole different set of perceptions, interests and life activities to the table. A father teaches his kids how men conduct themselves in our society and interact with women.
This is not to say that all fathers are sterling examples of malehood. And, it's possible that the Octomom will get remarried down the road. However, speaking as a male, I'll attest that a woman with 14 children doesn't have a lot of appeal in the romance marketplace.
Let's be realistic - is it even remotely possible that a single mother can provide anywhere near the needed attention for each of these 14 kids? Children need a lot of individualized love and caring from a parent. This woman is going to be so overwhelmed that, while the kids might not suffer from what would be termed "neglect," they are likely to grow up remembering that Mom was always too busy to do anything one on one with them.
There's a million other points to be made. What in the world was in the mind of the doctor who implanted eight embryos in this woman? Why did this woman need more children when she already had six? What happens when her parents - who are apparently integral to the child rearing - pass on?
The public cost cannot be underestimated here. The woman insists that she will get a job using her degree in social work - uh, has she checked the pay scale for these type of positions? It's barely enough to support a small family, much less one bigger than the average dog litter. It's only a matter of time before we hear that this family is being fed on food stamps and donations. Oh, and did I mention the rapidly mounting public cost for the kids' health care?
In an interview on NBC, the mother claimed that she and her family will be OK because she will love all the kids so much. Well, in their song "I Got You Babe", Sonny and Cher lyricized "They say our love won't pay the rent, we won't know 'til our money's all been spent." That bit of advice was offered 40 years ago, and it still doesn't work.
Maybe you can't put a price tag on stupidity, but it appears that the Octomom is going to try. Too bad you, me and every other hard-working American will be literally paying for it.
For anyone who might have been living in a cave the past month, the "Octomom" is a 30-something-year-old woman who recently bore eight children. The children were conceived in vitro. The woman has six other children, all under the age of 7. She is divorced and unemployed.
Let the insanity begin!
The only question is, where to start?
A Feb. 17 news report cited a $1.5 million cost so far - paid by California taxpayers - to care for the eight children, all still in the hospital. Given that children of such huge multiple births often have lifelong health issues, we can presume that the public tab will keep growing.
The mother already receives disability and public assistance payments from the state for at least two of her other children. Cha-ching! The public subsidy for her family grows further.
There is no father in the picture. This factor goes well beyond the mere need for many sets of hands (and hearts) to care for 14 children, eight of them infants. The bigger point is, in one fell swoop we have 14 children growing up without a male role model in their lives.
Children deserve to have a father. A male parent brings a whole different set of perceptions, interests and life activities to the table. A father teaches his kids how men conduct themselves in our society and interact with women.
This is not to say that all fathers are sterling examples of malehood. And, it's possible that the Octomom will get remarried down the road. However, speaking as a male, I'll attest that a woman with 14 children doesn't have a lot of appeal in the romance marketplace.
Let's be realistic - is it even remotely possible that a single mother can provide anywhere near the needed attention for each of these 14 kids? Children need a lot of individualized love and caring from a parent. This woman is going to be so overwhelmed that, while the kids might not suffer from what would be termed "neglect," they are likely to grow up remembering that Mom was always too busy to do anything one on one with them.
There's a million other points to be made. What in the world was in the mind of the doctor who implanted eight embryos in this woman? Why did this woman need more children when she already had six? What happens when her parents - who are apparently integral to the child rearing - pass on?
The public cost cannot be underestimated here. The woman insists that she will get a job using her degree in social work - uh, has she checked the pay scale for these type of positions? It's barely enough to support a small family, much less one bigger than the average dog litter. It's only a matter of time before we hear that this family is being fed on food stamps and donations. Oh, and did I mention the rapidly mounting public cost for the kids' health care?
In an interview on NBC, the mother claimed that she and her family will be OK because she will love all the kids so much. Well, in their song "I Got You Babe", Sonny and Cher lyricized "They say our love won't pay the rent, we won't know 'til our money's all been spent." That bit of advice was offered 40 years ago, and it still doesn't work.
Maybe you can't put a price tag on stupidity, but it appears that the Octomom is going to try. Too bad you, me and every other hard-working American will be literally paying for it.
Monday, February 16, 2009
There's no illegitimate kids, just illegitimate parents
A news story out of Milwaukee a week or so ago told a distressingly familiar tale: A 21-year-old woman was accused of letting her 1-month-old son starve to death. Yes, in this wondrously bountiful country, where we have far more food than virtually any other nation, the most helpless among us still die for lack of nourishment.
This story is tragic beyond words. Yet the circumstances might just sound like a situation or six that you've heard about before, and that often end up with children dead, abused or neglected.
The dead boy was at least the mother's third child. Now, can anyone tell me why an unmarried 21-year-old woman has three children? It's obvious that she is unable, unwilling or maybe just incompetent to care for three kids on her own - one of them is dead! Need we any more proof?
Oh, the details get better (or I should say they get worse). The woman was earlier accused of using a car to try to run down the father of her two older children! Where was the father when this happened? At his girlfriend's place - and this wasn't the woman with whom he had the two children! Who knows if (or how many) children he might have with this other woman!
What's even sadder about this episode is what supposedly happened to upset the mother so badly. She had taken her two children to stay with their father. After she brought the children inside the other woman's residence (this is the father's girlfriend - admittedly it's hard to keep the people in this ugly soap opera straight), the father took them outside and put them back in the car. He didn't want to deal with them.
How do you think this made those two small children feel? Unloved, to say the least? Unwanted? Sad? Confused? Probably all of these. The list could go on and on.
So the mother allegedly got so angry that she tried to hit the father with a car. Well, at least this could be interpreted as standing up for her kids. It's obvious that the father is an irresponsible loser sperm donor who probably has no qualms about spreading his seed all over town and not giving a damn about the consequences. There's far too many of his type around, and they're leaving behind an ever-growing trail of dysfunctional families and angry children.
Let's face it, the mother isn't much better. You'd think that, once she had a child out of wedlock, she'd take precautions to ensure it didn't happen again. No, that involves common sense and probably some guidance from a responsible older person, who might not have been in the picture. In any case, the woman managed to get pregnant at least twice more. Judging by the story, it's apparent that these children didn't have a stable home or probably much love, at least from their father. And one of them didn't live long enough to endure it.
There's a whole lot of irresponsibility and moronic behavior in this situation. This is what happens when people who shouldn't have children bear them anyway. It's exceedingly ironic how you have to take a test to get a driver's license, but anyone can have a child.
It's not the kids' fault. There are no illegitimate kids, only illegitimate parents. Our social fabric - the basis of which is stable nuclear families - is being slowly shredded by irresponsible people who act impulsively with no thought to the consequences. The number of single-parent homes with no active fathers is so huge that our society doesn't even notice anymore.
The difference between humans and animals is that people can control their impulses. But this takes self control, and that's too much to ask for a part of the population that knows only instant gratification. Whatever form it takes, gratification usually involves some form of happiness - and we know that's an emotion that the dead 1-month-old boy certainly never got to experience.
This story is tragic beyond words. Yet the circumstances might just sound like a situation or six that you've heard about before, and that often end up with children dead, abused or neglected.
The dead boy was at least the mother's third child. Now, can anyone tell me why an unmarried 21-year-old woman has three children? It's obvious that she is unable, unwilling or maybe just incompetent to care for three kids on her own - one of them is dead! Need we any more proof?
Oh, the details get better (or I should say they get worse). The woman was earlier accused of using a car to try to run down the father of her two older children! Where was the father when this happened? At his girlfriend's place - and this wasn't the woman with whom he had the two children! Who knows if (or how many) children he might have with this other woman!
What's even sadder about this episode is what supposedly happened to upset the mother so badly. She had taken her two children to stay with their father. After she brought the children inside the other woman's residence (this is the father's girlfriend - admittedly it's hard to keep the people in this ugly soap opera straight), the father took them outside and put them back in the car. He didn't want to deal with them.
How do you think this made those two small children feel? Unloved, to say the least? Unwanted? Sad? Confused? Probably all of these. The list could go on and on.
So the mother allegedly got so angry that she tried to hit the father with a car. Well, at least this could be interpreted as standing up for her kids. It's obvious that the father is an irresponsible loser sperm donor who probably has no qualms about spreading his seed all over town and not giving a damn about the consequences. There's far too many of his type around, and they're leaving behind an ever-growing trail of dysfunctional families and angry children.
Let's face it, the mother isn't much better. You'd think that, once she had a child out of wedlock, she'd take precautions to ensure it didn't happen again. No, that involves common sense and probably some guidance from a responsible older person, who might not have been in the picture. In any case, the woman managed to get pregnant at least twice more. Judging by the story, it's apparent that these children didn't have a stable home or probably much love, at least from their father. And one of them didn't live long enough to endure it.
There's a whole lot of irresponsibility and moronic behavior in this situation. This is what happens when people who shouldn't have children bear them anyway. It's exceedingly ironic how you have to take a test to get a driver's license, but anyone can have a child.
It's not the kids' fault. There are no illegitimate kids, only illegitimate parents. Our social fabric - the basis of which is stable nuclear families - is being slowly shredded by irresponsible people who act impulsively with no thought to the consequences. The number of single-parent homes with no active fathers is so huge that our society doesn't even notice anymore.
The difference between humans and animals is that people can control their impulses. But this takes self control, and that's too much to ask for a part of the population that knows only instant gratification. Whatever form it takes, gratification usually involves some form of happiness - and we know that's an emotion that the dead 1-month-old boy certainly never got to experience.
Wednesday, February 11, 2009
Don't let the door hit you, Brett
So Brett Favre is (allegedly) retiring again. For good this time, or at least until he changes his mind. No drawn-out "will he or won't he?" soap opera to plague the fans and management of the New York Jets. If only he'd been so considerate in his final seasons with the Green Bay Packers.
While on the cruise ("No! No! No more cruise stories!"), a fellow passenger asked me about Favre. I replied that I had very mixed feelings. Yes, he was possibly the greatest player in Packers history and gave the fans something to look forward to each week. And, after building an incredible reservoir of trust, affection and good will with Packers Nation, he proceeded to squander a good portion of it with his prima donna "unretirement" performance.
The interview with Greta Van Susteren pretty much did it for me. After he had announced his retirement in a teary news conference, Favre started waffling months later. The Packers, of course, had put in motion long-set plans to move ahead with Aaron Rodgers at quarterback. The team had taken Favre at his word. Training camp was very near. And when Van Susteren asked Favre whether he would be willing to compete for the quarterback position with Rodgers, his reply said it all: "Why?" Right then it became crystal clear: He felt entitled to the role regardless of what he had previously told the team about his plans.
Who did this guy think he was?
Over the years, Favre had carefully built an image of himself as a down-home, aw-shucks humble person. Now the truth had shone. He was no better than all the other high-profile athletes who put themselves above the organization. "Good old boy" Brett had morphed into "I'm most important" Brett. Which made one wonder: Was this the underlying person all along?
So enjoy your retirement, Brett, provided that you're serious this time. I really hope the Jets hold you to your deal and don't allow you to force a release so that you can play with the Vikings or Bears. You do that and I guarantee you'll be persona non grata in Green Bay.
Is there anything positive out of all this? Hmmm. Let's think long and hard. OK, I've got one. How about this?
At least he hasn't tested positive for steroids.
While on the cruise ("No! No! No more cruise stories!"), a fellow passenger asked me about Favre. I replied that I had very mixed feelings. Yes, he was possibly the greatest player in Packers history and gave the fans something to look forward to each week. And, after building an incredible reservoir of trust, affection and good will with Packers Nation, he proceeded to squander a good portion of it with his prima donna "unretirement" performance.
The interview with Greta Van Susteren pretty much did it for me. After he had announced his retirement in a teary news conference, Favre started waffling months later. The Packers, of course, had put in motion long-set plans to move ahead with Aaron Rodgers at quarterback. The team had taken Favre at his word. Training camp was very near. And when Van Susteren asked Favre whether he would be willing to compete for the quarterback position with Rodgers, his reply said it all: "Why?" Right then it became crystal clear: He felt entitled to the role regardless of what he had previously told the team about his plans.
Who did this guy think he was?
Over the years, Favre had carefully built an image of himself as a down-home, aw-shucks humble person. Now the truth had shone. He was no better than all the other high-profile athletes who put themselves above the organization. "Good old boy" Brett had morphed into "I'm most important" Brett. Which made one wonder: Was this the underlying person all along?
So enjoy your retirement, Brett, provided that you're serious this time. I really hope the Jets hold you to your deal and don't allow you to force a release so that you can play with the Vikings or Bears. You do that and I guarantee you'll be persona non grata in Green Bay.
Is there anything positive out of all this? Hmmm. Let's think long and hard. OK, I've got one. How about this?
At least he hasn't tested positive for steroids.
Wednesday, February 4, 2009
Parents, where art thou?
Just one more anecdote from the cruise, but I promise it will lead into a bigger point.
If you've ever been on a cruise, you know that most have big-stage nightly entertainment - real Broadway style productions with singing, dancing and some impressive talent. Other nights the entertainment might be a comedian, magician or musical act.
One night on our cruise, Nancy and I went to the 9:30 p.m. performance of a comedian. Mind you, that's the LATE show. "Night life" is a relative term depending on your locale.
Anyhow, looking down into the lower echelon of seats, we spotted something very disturbing - a stroller parked along the wall. Here's why this gave us pause: It meant that somewhere in the crowd a small child was being kept up by its parents, with a distinct possibility for loud crying or fussing as time ticked further and further past the kid's bedtime. In other words, anyone sitting in the theater could have their enjoyment of the show disrupted, thanks to a parent(s) who just HAD to be at that show.
Thankfully this particular child was never heard from, having apparently fallen asleep. Or maybe he/she was just so smart for their age that they enjoyed the show along with the rest of us and kept quiet.
Here's the bigger point: What were these parents thinking?
In recent years I've noticed a growing trend of people taking small children to late-night events. The kids are either completely zonked out or so overtired that their screaming makes life miserable for everyone around. Uh, shouldn't these kids be home in bed getting the rest that is so important at that age?
A few years ago I witnessed a small parade of people pushing strollers as they left Summerfest - after midnight! It was astounding!
Parenting is about sacrifice. An adult can't do everything they did in their pre-parenting life. It's as simple as that. The kid(s) comes first, and that means giving up some activities that don't mesh with a child's schedule. It's called responsibility.
Responsibility is a heavy concept for some people, I acknowledge. So is courtesy. When neither clicks in a person's mind, that's when we find them dragging their child around at 10:30 p.m. in a public place. The kid's not happy, nor are the rest of us who have to endure the loud outbursts that quite naturally come from a kid who just wants to be home in bed.
Next time, parents, think carefully about everyone who bears the brunt of your decisionmaking - not just your child, but every other person within earshot.
If you've ever been on a cruise, you know that most have big-stage nightly entertainment - real Broadway style productions with singing, dancing and some impressive talent. Other nights the entertainment might be a comedian, magician or musical act.
One night on our cruise, Nancy and I went to the 9:30 p.m. performance of a comedian. Mind you, that's the LATE show. "Night life" is a relative term depending on your locale.
Anyhow, looking down into the lower echelon of seats, we spotted something very disturbing - a stroller parked along the wall. Here's why this gave us pause: It meant that somewhere in the crowd a small child was being kept up by its parents, with a distinct possibility for loud crying or fussing as time ticked further and further past the kid's bedtime. In other words, anyone sitting in the theater could have their enjoyment of the show disrupted, thanks to a parent(s) who just HAD to be at that show.
Thankfully this particular child was never heard from, having apparently fallen asleep. Or maybe he/she was just so smart for their age that they enjoyed the show along with the rest of us and kept quiet.
Here's the bigger point: What were these parents thinking?
In recent years I've noticed a growing trend of people taking small children to late-night events. The kids are either completely zonked out or so overtired that their screaming makes life miserable for everyone around. Uh, shouldn't these kids be home in bed getting the rest that is so important at that age?
A few years ago I witnessed a small parade of people pushing strollers as they left Summerfest - after midnight! It was astounding!
Parenting is about sacrifice. An adult can't do everything they did in their pre-parenting life. It's as simple as that. The kid(s) comes first, and that means giving up some activities that don't mesh with a child's schedule. It's called responsibility.
Responsibility is a heavy concept for some people, I acknowledge. So is courtesy. When neither clicks in a person's mind, that's when we find them dragging their child around at 10:30 p.m. in a public place. The kid's not happy, nor are the rest of us who have to endure the loud outbursts that quite naturally come from a kid who just wants to be home in bed.
Next time, parents, think carefully about everyone who bears the brunt of your decisionmaking - not just your child, but every other person within earshot.
Tuesday, February 3, 2009
Working hard at sea
OK, back to the cruise - maybe for the last time, but no guarantees.
One thing you notice immediately on a cruise like the one we took (eastern Caribbean) is that virtually the entire crew is comprised of foreign workers. It is truly a melting pot of nationals. You know this because their nametags list their country of origin. They came from southeast Asia (especially the Philippines), eastern and western Europe, South America and Central America. The ship commodore was from Italy.
By and large they were very friendly and worked very hard. These are not glamorous jobs - waiting tables, tending bar, preparing food, working the front desk or cleaning rooms. The workers were interesting to speak with and seemed to enjoy talking about their homeland. One had to wonder what they thought of the huge amounts of food on the ship, given that many come from countries where food is a daily concern for millions.
One thing you didn't see were any workers from the U.S. I saw exactly one person, and she was an assistant cruise director - a supervisory administrative role.
So the question easily came to mind: Why does Princess Cruise Lines, a U.S.-based operation, have to recruit workers from all ends of the earth? Isn't the U.S. sliding into a deep recession and unemployment heading skyward? Shouldn't there be U.S. workers lining up to apply for these jobs? What gives?
Maybe the answer is simpler than we thought: Yes, there are jobs out there - but not jobs that Americans want to work.
One thing you notice immediately on a cruise like the one we took (eastern Caribbean) is that virtually the entire crew is comprised of foreign workers. It is truly a melting pot of nationals. You know this because their nametags list their country of origin. They came from southeast Asia (especially the Philippines), eastern and western Europe, South America and Central America. The ship commodore was from Italy.
By and large they were very friendly and worked very hard. These are not glamorous jobs - waiting tables, tending bar, preparing food, working the front desk or cleaning rooms. The workers were interesting to speak with and seemed to enjoy talking about their homeland. One had to wonder what they thought of the huge amounts of food on the ship, given that many come from countries where food is a daily concern for millions.
One thing you didn't see were any workers from the U.S. I saw exactly one person, and she was an assistant cruise director - a supervisory administrative role.
So the question easily came to mind: Why does Princess Cruise Lines, a U.S.-based operation, have to recruit workers from all ends of the earth? Isn't the U.S. sliding into a deep recession and unemployment heading skyward? Shouldn't there be U.S. workers lining up to apply for these jobs? What gives?
Maybe the answer is simpler than we thought: Yes, there are jobs out there - but not jobs that Americans want to work.
Monday, February 2, 2009
Paradise amid the poverty
In the interest of full disclosure, let me start by stating that my wife, Nancy, and I returned home last week from a 10-day Caribbean cruise. It was a little bit of heaven, as anyone who has ever escaped from a Wisconsin winter will attest.
Having grown up in southeastern Wisconsin, I never really understood how interminable our winters really are. It all came clear to me about 10 years ago. A good friend from church, a Kentucky native who was living here while studying at the Medical College of Wisconsin, made it oh-so-abundantly clear. I'll never forget Dr. Bob (his nickname) saying in his inimitable southern drawl, "I don't mind a couple months of winter, but it's just that you all have it for so long here." And suddenly it hit me - not everyone suffers through five months of snow, cold, slush and general messiness each year. There are places that have cold weather, but it only lasts a month or two and frozen precipitation is almost an afterthought. How about that?
But that's a topic for another time. Back to the cruise.
As anyone who has cruised the Caribbean knows, you stop at many islands along the way. Most people book an excursion that takes them to a beach, on a sightseeing bus trip, a boat ride or any number of other outings. You pretty much get off the ship, gather into groups, jump onto transportation of some sort and take off.
Here's where the contrast comes in, and if you don't notice it you're either blind, asleep or incredibly cold hearted.
Most of these islands are former European colonies that have been independent nations for maybe three, four or five decades. Their economies are often largely reliant on sugar cane, fishing or tourism. They are Third World countries.
You can't help but notice -as you zip by in your air-conditioned motorcoach - the often-prevalent shacks, huts and lean-tos that house so many of the island residents. "Ramshackle" is an apt description. This is the type of poverty unheard of in America, yet these islands exist just a few hundred miles south of the U.S. It's stunning to see if you aren't prepared. You feel an empathy for these people. You wonder what they do for a living, if they have enough to eat, and what hopes and dreams they hold. If it doesn't make you thankful for the bountiful blessings we have in America, nothing will.
At the end of the day, you reboard the cruise ship and sail off to another island. You hope that the money you spent will help the people living on the island you just left. And once again you give thanks for where you live and all that you have.
Having grown up in southeastern Wisconsin, I never really understood how interminable our winters really are. It all came clear to me about 10 years ago. A good friend from church, a Kentucky native who was living here while studying at the Medical College of Wisconsin, made it oh-so-abundantly clear. I'll never forget Dr. Bob (his nickname) saying in his inimitable southern drawl, "I don't mind a couple months of winter, but it's just that you all have it for so long here." And suddenly it hit me - not everyone suffers through five months of snow, cold, slush and general messiness each year. There are places that have cold weather, but it only lasts a month or two and frozen precipitation is almost an afterthought. How about that?
But that's a topic for another time. Back to the cruise.
As anyone who has cruised the Caribbean knows, you stop at many islands along the way. Most people book an excursion that takes them to a beach, on a sightseeing bus trip, a boat ride or any number of other outings. You pretty much get off the ship, gather into groups, jump onto transportation of some sort and take off.
Here's where the contrast comes in, and if you don't notice it you're either blind, asleep or incredibly cold hearted.
Most of these islands are former European colonies that have been independent nations for maybe three, four or five decades. Their economies are often largely reliant on sugar cane, fishing or tourism. They are Third World countries.
You can't help but notice -as you zip by in your air-conditioned motorcoach - the often-prevalent shacks, huts and lean-tos that house so many of the island residents. "Ramshackle" is an apt description. This is the type of poverty unheard of in America, yet these islands exist just a few hundred miles south of the U.S. It's stunning to see if you aren't prepared. You feel an empathy for these people. You wonder what they do for a living, if they have enough to eat, and what hopes and dreams they hold. If it doesn't make you thankful for the bountiful blessings we have in America, nothing will.
At the end of the day, you reboard the cruise ship and sail off to another island. You hope that the money you spent will help the people living on the island you just left. And once again you give thanks for where you live and all that you have.
Late to the party, or what?
What's that old saying about "late to the party?" Well, it's it's better to be late than not show up at all.
So here I find myself finally getting around to writing a blog or, to use the popular verb form, "blogging." Who in the world ever came up with this term? There's a bit of popular tech culture that would be interesting to know. It reminds me of "slog," which refers to walking through deep mud or some other navigational hindrance. Hopefully there's no correlation within the two in any way, physical or literary.
I have a list of topics for future postings. They cover a gamut of topics from timely news events to rather irrelevant observations. So, to quote a somewhat well-known 1980s song, "let's get this party started."
So here I find myself finally getting around to writing a blog or, to use the popular verb form, "blogging." Who in the world ever came up with this term? There's a bit of popular tech culture that would be interesting to know. It reminds me of "slog," which refers to walking through deep mud or some other navigational hindrance. Hopefully there's no correlation within the two in any way, physical or literary.
I have a list of topics for future postings. They cover a gamut of topics from timely news events to rather irrelevant observations. So, to quote a somewhat well-known 1980s song, "let's get this party started."
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
