About 2 weeks ago, International Paper Company, announced the closing of the paper mill in Franklin, Va. The town of Franklin only has a population of ~8,500 people as of the 2000 census. Closing the paper mill will eliminate over 1,100 jobs located at the mill itself, and a ripple effect that will more than double that number, when local businesses that rely on or support the mill are included. In less than 4 months, the mill will cease to operate.
This particular mill manufactured copying paper. IPC stated that the demand for such paper has declined in recent years, and they expect that trend to continue. This is not at all surprising, when you consider how communication is changing with advances in technology. The printed page is not only becoming unnecessary in the corporate environment, and elsewhere, it is expensive.
Every newspaper in the country is currently in a financial crisis. This is the result of reduced income, primarily from advertising, because retailers are realizing better results by investing their ad money in TV and the internet. Also, typical consumers have found “Craigs List”,” Ebay”, etc. to be more cost effective and convenient than classified ads, and finally reduced readership, because people are finding the information they’re interested in on-line as opposed to purchasing a newspaper. Recently our local newspaper reduced the width of the printed page by 1/2 inch. If they hadn’t announced doing this, I doubt anyone would have noticed. The size of the print didn’t change, nor (so they say) did the content of the daily issues. The reason for doing this was because the cost of newsprint paper is the second highest expense they incur, behind employee salaries, and to avoid eliminating jobs, they chose that option.
I recently noticed that the company manufacturing the toilet paper we have been purchasing for use in this house for as long as I can recall, has reduced the size of each roll. Not the number of sheets or the number of plies, but the width of each roll. They haven’t reduced the price, but each roll contains ~6% less paper.
I can remember when retailers such as Sears, Penneys, and now defunct Montgomery Wards, etc, printed catalogs three or four times a year. These were either mailed to consumers, or freely available to anyone who visited their stores. However, they’ve realized that today people prefer to comparison shop on the internet as opposed to leafing through hundreds of pages of various catalogs, and as a result, customers may now purchase a catalog if they wish.
I’m certain there are other similar examples that I can’t think of at the moment, but if I were able to gather the relevant statistics, I imagine there are millions of trees still growing today that would otherwise be in a landfill or recycling facility, if it weren’t for the “information age”. Although I’m fairly certain that saving the environment was not a driving factor in any of these technological developments, never the less it’s a good thing, at least in the big picture.
However, I’ll leave it to someone else, to try to convince a recently unemployed mill worker, with a family to care for, how beneficial this is to all of us.
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
Tuesday, November 3, 2009
Brains
Many years ago, I used to ride motorcycles, I owned 3 of them in fact. In the folly of youth, I enjoyed the exhilaration of cruising down a roadway in a completely unprotected environment, obviously there are no seat belts or airbags on those 2 wheeled death wishes.
One beautiful Sunday afternoon I was rolling down the road, when the bike suddenly flipped on it’s side, most likely caused by a patch of grease or mud that I didn’t see. As luck would have it, I had installed crash-bars on that bike the day before, otherwise I’m fairly certain I may have lost, or severely damaged, my left leg. Also, had I not been wearing a helmet, which was deeply gouged by the crash, I imagine I would be even more brain-damaged than I am now. I’m most grateful for the fact that my girl friend at the time, now my wife, wasn’t along for the ride, as she often was. I believe she had gone to church. After the broken bones healed, I found that my enthusiasm for open air vehicles waned rapidly. I soon sold the bike and haven’t had any desire to ride one since.
At the time, prior to the accident, I was working on the Naval Base in Norfolk. In order to ride a bike on the base, I had to complete a motorcycle safety course. One of the lectures in that course was “How to avoid accidents”. It was an interesting lecture, covering many of the hazardous aspects of operating a motorcycle in various environments both urban and rural. One part of the lecture that has stuck with me all these years, concerns an explanation by the instructor regarding the cause of many motor vehicle accidents. The theory is, that the human brain does not always react based on the information available to it, but by interpreting information as it expects it to be.
For example, when drivers stop at an intersection, look left and right, they are looking to see if any traffic (usually defined as a car or truck) is approaching. The brain doesn’t recognize any of those vehicles in the image presented to it, and therefore assumes the way is clear to proceed. Meaning, if a motorcycle were approaching, the brain might not have been expecting that, and thus disregarded that bit of data.
An example of this is below. Close your left eye, focus on the X with your right eye, and move to within about 12-16 or so inches of the screen. You will notice the O disappears and is replaced by what the brain sees in that general area.
X ---------------------------------- o
Obviously, both symbols are still there, but your brain tells you otherwise.
I find this particularly alarming today with the much publicized use of cell phones, GPS, iPods, etc by people operating motor vehicles. These additional unnecessary distractions can only contribute to an increase in motor vehicle mishaps, injuries and deaths.
I suspect that if anyone, other than my only loyal blog reader, were to read this, they might whimsically say “if you drive with both eyes open, it’s not a problem”, hopefully they know that isn’t true.
One beautiful Sunday afternoon I was rolling down the road, when the bike suddenly flipped on it’s side, most likely caused by a patch of grease or mud that I didn’t see. As luck would have it, I had installed crash-bars on that bike the day before, otherwise I’m fairly certain I may have lost, or severely damaged, my left leg. Also, had I not been wearing a helmet, which was deeply gouged by the crash, I imagine I would be even more brain-damaged than I am now. I’m most grateful for the fact that my girl friend at the time, now my wife, wasn’t along for the ride, as she often was. I believe she had gone to church. After the broken bones healed, I found that my enthusiasm for open air vehicles waned rapidly. I soon sold the bike and haven’t had any desire to ride one since.
At the time, prior to the accident, I was working on the Naval Base in Norfolk. In order to ride a bike on the base, I had to complete a motorcycle safety course. One of the lectures in that course was “How to avoid accidents”. It was an interesting lecture, covering many of the hazardous aspects of operating a motorcycle in various environments both urban and rural. One part of the lecture that has stuck with me all these years, concerns an explanation by the instructor regarding the cause of many motor vehicle accidents. The theory is, that the human brain does not always react based on the information available to it, but by interpreting information as it expects it to be.
For example, when drivers stop at an intersection, look left and right, they are looking to see if any traffic (usually defined as a car or truck) is approaching. The brain doesn’t recognize any of those vehicles in the image presented to it, and therefore assumes the way is clear to proceed. Meaning, if a motorcycle were approaching, the brain might not have been expecting that, and thus disregarded that bit of data.
An example of this is below. Close your left eye, focus on the X with your right eye, and move to within about 12-16 or so inches of the screen. You will notice the O disappears and is replaced by what the brain sees in that general area.
X ---------------------------------- o
Obviously, both symbols are still there, but your brain tells you otherwise.
I find this particularly alarming today with the much publicized use of cell phones, GPS, iPods, etc by people operating motor vehicles. These additional unnecessary distractions can only contribute to an increase in motor vehicle mishaps, injuries and deaths.
I suspect that if anyone, other than my only loyal blog reader, were to read this, they might whimsically say “if you drive with both eyes open, it’s not a problem”, hopefully they know that isn’t true.
Monday, October 26, 2009
Too much information can be a bad thing
For the past couple years or so, I’ve noticed that I’m not as happy as I used to be. I’ve become a lot more cynical regarding the leadership of our country and the world in general. As a result, I’ve also become much more pessimistic about the future. Not in regard to myself, but for my children and future grandchild if any should appear.
Yesterday, I picked the newspaper up in the driveway, took it out of its little plastic bag, looked at the headlines on the front page, pulled out the sports section to see which football games were on TV, extracted the crosswords and comics, and threw the rest of it in the recycle bin.
I’m sure there is a wealth of information in that paper for people who want to keep informed on such things as the latest politician who is admitting to an extra-marital affair, a private plane crash in Arizona killing a family 5, how many children die of starvation every day in Ethiopia, how many people were killed by the latest suicide bomber in Pakistan, how severely the coastlines of the world are going to be inundated by sea water due to global warming, nuclear proliferation, and the list goes on and on.
As if all that isn’t enough, today the Smithsonian Magazine which I enjoy reading, informed me that the Longhorned beetle is poised to destroy the hardwood forests of New England. This would be a bad thing, but since I wouldn’t know a Longhorned beetle if I ate one, I don’t know what I can do to help.
Lastly, according to the EPA http://epa.gov/otaq/consumer/f00013.htm, I have been responsible for dumping 303 tons of bad stuff into the atmosphere from automobiles in the 50 years I have been driving, that’s 33 lbs per day average even on days I didn’t drive. I’m ashamed, but then with a little further research http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Greenhouse_gas_emissions_by_the_United_States , I found that CO2 emissions in the atmosphere increased ~6.3% in the 30 years prior to my kids being born. In the 30 years since their birth CO2 levels have risen an additional ~15.2%. I imagine those 6,000 plus diapers we had to change were a significant factor, but even if not, it’s pretty clear who is responsible for the rapidly approaching disaster. It's not me, it's them. Hell, I didn't even want kids!
So, now that I have no more global warming guilt, I can move on to other concerns like tsunamis, and asteroids.
Yesterday, I picked the newspaper up in the driveway, took it out of its little plastic bag, looked at the headlines on the front page, pulled out the sports section to see which football games were on TV, extracted the crosswords and comics, and threw the rest of it in the recycle bin.
I’m sure there is a wealth of information in that paper for people who want to keep informed on such things as the latest politician who is admitting to an extra-marital affair, a private plane crash in Arizona killing a family 5, how many children die of starvation every day in Ethiopia, how many people were killed by the latest suicide bomber in Pakistan, how severely the coastlines of the world are going to be inundated by sea water due to global warming, nuclear proliferation, and the list goes on and on.
As if all that isn’t enough, today the Smithsonian Magazine which I enjoy reading, informed me that the Longhorned beetle is poised to destroy the hardwood forests of New England. This would be a bad thing, but since I wouldn’t know a Longhorned beetle if I ate one, I don’t know what I can do to help.
Lastly, according to the EPA http://epa.gov/otaq/consumer/f00013.htm, I have been responsible for dumping 303 tons of bad stuff into the atmosphere from automobiles in the 50 years I have been driving, that’s 33 lbs per day average even on days I didn’t drive. I’m ashamed, but then with a little further research http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Greenhouse_gas_emissions_by_the_United_States , I found that CO2 emissions in the atmosphere increased ~6.3% in the 30 years prior to my kids being born. In the 30 years since their birth CO2 levels have risen an additional ~15.2%. I imagine those 6,000 plus diapers we had to change were a significant factor, but even if not, it’s pretty clear who is responsible for the rapidly approaching disaster. It's not me, it's them. Hell, I didn't even want kids!
So, now that I have no more global warming guilt, I can move on to other concerns like tsunamis, and asteroids.
Saturday, August 22, 2009
Sticky Notes
How did we ever get along without the little notes we post in various places to remind us of things we think we may forget?
Did you know that Stickies came to be by accident? A chemist at 3M Corporation was attempting to develop a new adhesive and came up with something that would stick a little bit, but could be easily removed once attached. He initially thought of this as worthless, until someone realized it might be useful. Thus, the post-it note was developed and marketed, resulting in a multi-million, perhaps billion dollar profit maker for 3M.
Attached to the pegboard, above my work bench in the garage, I have no less than 31 little reminders to myself. Some are not legitimate sticky notes, but attached with scotch tape. I have found that sticky notes only have a life span of about 2 years, and eventually need to be reinforced with tape, if you want them to remain in place for 15 or more years, as many of mine have.
There is a lot of useful information in that small space including phone numbers, PIN numbers, Dr appt. dates and times, golf tips, business cards, etc. But my favorites are the quips, proverbs, adages and little items that I thought were interesting at the time I attached them.
One of them, that I unfortunately only came across a couple years ago, is this one. Today is my 65th birthday, and I'm just now beginning to understand how true this is.
Did you know that Stickies came to be by accident? A chemist at 3M Corporation was attempting to develop a new adhesive and came up with something that would stick a little bit, but could be easily removed once attached. He initially thought of this as worthless, until someone realized it might be useful. Thus, the post-it note was developed and marketed, resulting in a multi-million, perhaps billion dollar profit maker for 3M.
Attached to the pegboard, above my work bench in the garage, I have no less than 31 little reminders to myself. Some are not legitimate sticky notes, but attached with scotch tape. I have found that sticky notes only have a life span of about 2 years, and eventually need to be reinforced with tape, if you want them to remain in place for 15 or more years, as many of mine have.
There is a lot of useful information in that small space including phone numbers, PIN numbers, Dr appt. dates and times, golf tips, business cards, etc. But my favorites are the quips, proverbs, adages and little items that I thought were interesting at the time I attached them.
One of them, that I unfortunately only came across a couple years ago, is this one. Today is my 65th birthday, and I'm just now beginning to understand how true this is.
An Olde Scottish Saying
You'd nae worry so much what others think of you,
if you realized how seldom they do.
Thursday, August 20, 2009
Catching Up
It's been quite a while since I visited this blog, but I found that reading previous posts was interesting, sort of like reading a diary and remembering what was going on at the time of an entry. So, in the event I decide to look back again in the future, I thought I would start entering stuff again.
Let's see, the last post was March 3, maybe I'll just make a list of things that have happened since then:
1. Hurt back.
2. Stopped exercising.
3. Stopped playing golf.
4. Stopped enjoying life.
5. Bought new car, actually 2 of em, but back hurt too much to drive em.
6. Eldest son finished grad school at Cornell, now working for MicroSoft in Bellevue, WA.
7. Both sons home for Father's Day, enjoyed life again that day.
8. Youngest son passed last test of CPA certification.
9. Back getting better, ready to play golf again.
10. Life is good.
Gee, that didn't take long. More to follow.
Let's see, the last post was March 3, maybe I'll just make a list of things that have happened since then:
1. Hurt back.
2. Stopped exercising.
3. Stopped playing golf.
4. Stopped enjoying life.
5. Bought new car, actually 2 of em, but back hurt too much to drive em.
6. Eldest son finished grad school at Cornell, now working for MicroSoft in Bellevue, WA.
7. Both sons home for Father's Day, enjoyed life again that day.
8. Youngest son passed last test of CPA certification.
9. Back getting better, ready to play golf again.
10. Life is good.
Gee, that didn't take long. More to follow.
Tuesday, March 3, 2009
Rowing Milestone
I am now past the 200,000 meter mark on the rowing machine. This is not an insignificant figure, at least to me. This is equivalent to rowing my imaginary little boat from home to somewhere 125 miles away. I'm on my way to somewhere 625 miles from home, don't know where that destination is yet, but I'll be glad when I get there.
Of course, considering how long it took me to reach that milestone, I would make better time hopping on the back of an accommodating snail.
Still, I like to think that the effort exerted must have done something good for my body, although I know for a fact that losing weight is not one of the benefits.
Only 800,000 meters to go. I'll post increments of 100,000.
Of course, considering how long it took me to reach that milestone, I would make better time hopping on the back of an accommodating snail.
Still, I like to think that the effort exerted must have done something good for my body, although I know for a fact that losing weight is not one of the benefits.
Only 800,000 meters to go. I'll post increments of 100,000.
Friday, February 6, 2009
iPOD
I've got an ipod. Well actually my wife claims it's her ipod although she's never used it. When we bought her RAV-4 last year they threw in an ipod for free. Or you might say we bought a $22,000 ipod and they threw in the RAV-4. Either way I now have an ipod to listen to while exercising.
This is the neatest gadget. I don't know how I got along without it before this. I told Lynne I think I ought to get and iphone or the equivalent, with all the bells and whistles like GPS, camera, internet capability, built-in keyboard for texting, etc. I could probably entertain myself forever just figuring out how to use it. I'm sure there's a cost associated with all that functionality, but what the hell, you only live once and then you're kids get to buy themselves an iphone with your money. That doesn't make sense, does it?
Any suggestions on what I should get? iphone, blackberry, storm, etc.?
This is the neatest gadget. I don't know how I got along without it before this. I told Lynne I think I ought to get and iphone or the equivalent, with all the bells and whistles like GPS, camera, internet capability, built-in keyboard for texting, etc. I could probably entertain myself forever just figuring out how to use it. I'm sure there's a cost associated with all that functionality, but what the hell, you only live once and then you're kids get to buy themselves an iphone with your money. That doesn't make sense, does it?
Any suggestions on what I should get? iphone, blackberry, storm, etc.?
Thursday, February 5, 2009
Million meters
Carrie was here for Lynne's annual get-together with a number of her friends. I always find somewhere to go during their festivities. This year I went to lunch, did some shopping, and went to a movie "Mall Cop". Bad choice, but it did manage to kill the needed hour and a half.
Still working out. Been two weeks now without missing a day, except when Carrie was visiting last weekend. But that was welcome, because I felt like I needed a break.
I've now reached 148,000 meters rowing my little machine around the athletic area of the club. It doesn't actually move of course, but with a little imagination, I've managed to row from our house to Richmond. Took awhile though.
I've calculated that if I were to row 2,600 meters everyday, I would reach 1,000,000 meters by the end of the year. Only takes about 15 minutes to row 2,600 meters, so it would be a piece of cake if the machine were located in the house here, but it's not. That requires changing clothes and going to the club and then changing clothes again when I get home, which is a pain. If it weren't for that, I believe I could easily row 10,000 meters a day. But the cost of buying one of those machines to have in the house is about $1,500 and I'm not sure my back will hold up to that much exercise. So, I'll just continue what I'm doing and see how far I get.
One thing I have determined, after 2 weeks of exercising an hour and a half a day using the rowing machine, weight machines, and stationary bike, is that exercise does not cause one to lose weight. I've also cut back on my calorie intake, to no avail. I'm sure that being diabetic has something to do with the lack of weight loss, because I frequently have to consume some sugar or carbs to keep my BG level from dropping too low.
Having said all this, I don't know why, I will stick to the routine because I do feel better. More energy, muscles don't hurt so much from making an unusual movement, etc.
Okay, no more about exercise until I reach 200,000 meters.
Still working out. Been two weeks now without missing a day, except when Carrie was visiting last weekend. But that was welcome, because I felt like I needed a break.
I've now reached 148,000 meters rowing my little machine around the athletic area of the club. It doesn't actually move of course, but with a little imagination, I've managed to row from our house to Richmond. Took awhile though.
I've calculated that if I were to row 2,600 meters everyday, I would reach 1,000,000 meters by the end of the year. Only takes about 15 minutes to row 2,600 meters, so it would be a piece of cake if the machine were located in the house here, but it's not. That requires changing clothes and going to the club and then changing clothes again when I get home, which is a pain. If it weren't for that, I believe I could easily row 10,000 meters a day. But the cost of buying one of those machines to have in the house is about $1,500 and I'm not sure my back will hold up to that much exercise. So, I'll just continue what I'm doing and see how far I get.
One thing I have determined, after 2 weeks of exercising an hour and a half a day using the rowing machine, weight machines, and stationary bike, is that exercise does not cause one to lose weight. I've also cut back on my calorie intake, to no avail. I'm sure that being diabetic has something to do with the lack of weight loss, because I frequently have to consume some sugar or carbs to keep my BG level from dropping too low.
Having said all this, I don't know why, I will stick to the routine because I do feel better. More energy, muscles don't hurt so much from making an unusual movement, etc.
Okay, no more about exercise until I reach 200,000 meters.
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
Scales and shapes
When I started working out at the club 8 days ago, I weighed myself on the scale they have in the exercise area, and found I didn’t weigh as much as I had thought I did. This is a scale just like the ones you see in a doctor’s office. I don’t know how often it’s calibrated, but at least it gave me a good reference point for monitoring my weight. I started at 215 lbs, which isn’t bad at all, based on charts I’ve seen which relate your desired weight to your height and age. There is some comfort in knowing I’m not considered obese, but those charts don’t take into consideration where the excess pounds may be located, which is my problem.
It seems that my neck, shoulders, ankles, knees and even my hips are at the desired dimensions. However, everything between my hips and shoulders seem to be shaped like a pear. This in my opinion is not good, for a couple reasons. One it doesn’t look right, and the other is I find it difficult to find pear-shaped clothes.
Shopping for shirts is not too difficult. I can just keep moving up from large to Xlarge, XXlarge, and they even go up to 4Xxlarge. They tend to get a little baggy on my normally proportioned shoulders, but at least they cover my belly, so long as I’m careful to buy the ‘long length’ size.
The real problem is buying pants. Men’s pants (I don’t know about women’s) are measured with 2 dimensions. One is the inseam, which is the distance in inches from the bottom of the crotch to bottom of the pants leg, and the other is the waist, which is supposed to be the distance in inches around your body approximately where your navel is located. This system worked find for me for many years, but is now obsolete. Where my navel happens to be located, no longer has anything to do with where I wear my pants.
Either my navel has risen a few inches, which I doubt, or my so called waist has fallen the same distance. When I put my pants on these days, I suck my stomach in, button them up, tighten my new belt (which is longer than it used to be), and I’m good to go. This lasts for maybe half an hour, when my pants of their own accord migrate down to the point where my thankfully, properly proportioned hips keep them from falling to the floor. The problem with this is that the bottom of the pants, which were just fine earlier, are now dragging on the floor.
I mention all this because I’m becoming a bit concerned about my physique. Not that I’m interested in chasing chicks anymore, but because I don’t like looking funny. Which brings me back to the scale I was talking about in the beginning, so let me return to that.
Today after working out for approximately 1 ½ hours, I stepped on the scale to see how much weight I had lost after 8 days of working out, and also monitoring my calorie intake. I was very disappointed to find I had only lost ½ lbs.
Then I remembered an occasion a number of years ago when I used to work out at the YMCA, and I observed a lady weighing herself after her workout. She was wearing what I would consider the minimum clothing for working out in a public facility, but before she stepped on the scale she removed the sweat band from her forehead, removed her shoes, and then her wedding ring. I thought to myself “wow, this lady has a real obsession with her weight”. But now I found myself thinking “you know, maybe that’s not such a bad idea”, so I took off my shoes, got back on the scale, and things looked a bit better.
Then, since the scale is surrounded on 3 sides by partitions and there were very few people in the place, I decided to take off my shirt and shorts. As I was doing this, I heard a “AHEM!” behind me and realized I wasn’t the only one wanting to use the scale. So, I put my stuff back on and let the lady have the scale to herself.
Tomorrow when I workout, I’ll make sure of my surroundings before I attempt to get a truly accurate measurement of my progress.
It seems that my neck, shoulders, ankles, knees and even my hips are at the desired dimensions. However, everything between my hips and shoulders seem to be shaped like a pear. This in my opinion is not good, for a couple reasons. One it doesn’t look right, and the other is I find it difficult to find pear-shaped clothes.
Shopping for shirts is not too difficult. I can just keep moving up from large to Xlarge, XXlarge, and they even go up to 4Xxlarge. They tend to get a little baggy on my normally proportioned shoulders, but at least they cover my belly, so long as I’m careful to buy the ‘long length’ size.
The real problem is buying pants. Men’s pants (I don’t know about women’s) are measured with 2 dimensions. One is the inseam, which is the distance in inches from the bottom of the crotch to bottom of the pants leg, and the other is the waist, which is supposed to be the distance in inches around your body approximately where your navel is located. This system worked find for me for many years, but is now obsolete. Where my navel happens to be located, no longer has anything to do with where I wear my pants.
Either my navel has risen a few inches, which I doubt, or my so called waist has fallen the same distance. When I put my pants on these days, I suck my stomach in, button them up, tighten my new belt (which is longer than it used to be), and I’m good to go. This lasts for maybe half an hour, when my pants of their own accord migrate down to the point where my thankfully, properly proportioned hips keep them from falling to the floor. The problem with this is that the bottom of the pants, which were just fine earlier, are now dragging on the floor.
I mention all this because I’m becoming a bit concerned about my physique. Not that I’m interested in chasing chicks anymore, but because I don’t like looking funny. Which brings me back to the scale I was talking about in the beginning, so let me return to that.
Today after working out for approximately 1 ½ hours, I stepped on the scale to see how much weight I had lost after 8 days of working out, and also monitoring my calorie intake. I was very disappointed to find I had only lost ½ lbs.
Then I remembered an occasion a number of years ago when I used to work out at the YMCA, and I observed a lady weighing herself after her workout. She was wearing what I would consider the minimum clothing for working out in a public facility, but before she stepped on the scale she removed the sweat band from her forehead, removed her shoes, and then her wedding ring. I thought to myself “wow, this lady has a real obsession with her weight”. But now I found myself thinking “you know, maybe that’s not such a bad idea”, so I took off my shoes, got back on the scale, and things looked a bit better.
Then, since the scale is surrounded on 3 sides by partitions and there were very few people in the place, I decided to take off my shirt and shorts. As I was doing this, I heard a “AHEM!” behind me and realized I wasn’t the only one wanting to use the scale. So, I put my stuff back on and let the lady have the scale to herself.
Tomorrow when I workout, I’ll make sure of my surroundings before I attempt to get a truly accurate measurement of my progress.
Sunday, January 25, 2009
Rowing update
I've been exercising 4 consecutive days now. Passed the 110,000 meter mark on the rowing machine.
My son informs me that his wife has started using the rowing machine at the club where she works out. I won't try to compete with a trim, healthy 28 year old female.
I have a feeling she will turn out to be one of those show-offy exercisers. You know the type, the ones who run on the streets of DC even when no one is chasing them. She already made a comment to my previous post referring to f** people, so you know what I'm dealing with here.
Have you ever noticed that people who jog, are always telling you how exhilarating it is? Let me ask you this, have you ever seen one of them tooling along the street with a smile on their face? I doubt it. Everyone I've ever seen, looks as though they are in agony, and wouldn't be disappointed if a bus were to run over em.
If she starts to get too uppity with me, I’ll challenge her to a competition I know I can beat her at, soon as I think of one.
My son informs me that his wife has started using the rowing machine at the club where she works out. I won't try to compete with a trim, healthy 28 year old female.
I have a feeling she will turn out to be one of those show-offy exercisers. You know the type, the ones who run on the streets of DC even when no one is chasing them. She already made a comment to my previous post referring to f** people, so you know what I'm dealing with here.
Have you ever noticed that people who jog, are always telling you how exhilarating it is? Let me ask you this, have you ever seen one of them tooling along the street with a smile on their face? I doubt it. Everyone I've ever seen, looks as though they are in agony, and wouldn't be disappointed if a bus were to run over em.
If she starts to get too uppity with me, I’ll challenge her to a competition I know I can beat her at, soon as I think of one.
Thursday, January 22, 2009
Exercise
Today I restarted my exercise regimen. I had taken a short break from when I was doing this on a regular basis, 4 times a week. Now after 8 months of only exercising my chewing muscles, I've got a lot of making up to do.
I'm determined to stick with it at least long enough to discover whether or not it will help neutralize the estrogen in my system (see the "poison" post).
My typical workout consists of starting with the rowing machine. This device is affectionately referred to as "ERG" because it supposedly requires you to use a considerable amount of energy while rowing. I think I read somewhere that the ERG is really an acronym for "Evil Rowing Gadget".
At the club where I workout, the ERG's are located such that as you row you are looking at the backside of the people who are using the treadmills. I've found that the amount of time I spend on the ERG is directly proportional to the shapeliness of the ladies on the treadmill. This is probably coincidental, but I intend to monitor the situation closely.
After the ERG, I do the weight machines. These devices are very effectively designed to make you hurt. They are also demoralizing, I'll explain what I mean. I'm 6' 4", 225 lbs (not all of which are ideally positioned), and one would probably think I was stronger than a 5' 2" 115 lb 25 year old young lady. That would be an erroneous assumption. For example, there is a machine that is used to build biceps, where you set the weights to your desired level before using and when you've finished, the setting you've used remains that way until the next user sits down and adjusts the weights to their desired workout level. Now, I used this machine immediately following the mentioned young lady and see that she is using 50 lb weights whereas I struggle with 35 lbs. My first inclination was to go home, eat a piece of pie and watch television, but I've decided not to wimp out just yet.
It's true that before I took my little hiatus from working out, I was doing 55 lbs on that machine. So my intent is to stick with it until I get back to that level. At least that's my intent.
After agonizing my way through the 10 different weight machines, I then get on the exercise bike and pedal my way along for a couple miles. Incidentally, the bikes are located adjacent to the rowing machines, so how far I pedal the bike is again dependent on who is exercising at the same time.
I did row enough today to bring my lifetime total rowing distance to over 100,000 meters.
I'll try to remember to post my progress on this exercise program in the future, unless I decide to just start competing in pie eating contests.
I'm determined to stick with it at least long enough to discover whether or not it will help neutralize the estrogen in my system (see the "poison" post).
My typical workout consists of starting with the rowing machine. This device is affectionately referred to as "ERG" because it supposedly requires you to use a considerable amount of energy while rowing. I think I read somewhere that the ERG is really an acronym for "Evil Rowing Gadget".
At the club where I workout, the ERG's are located such that as you row you are looking at the backside of the people who are using the treadmills. I've found that the amount of time I spend on the ERG is directly proportional to the shapeliness of the ladies on the treadmill. This is probably coincidental, but I intend to monitor the situation closely.
After the ERG, I do the weight machines. These devices are very effectively designed to make you hurt. They are also demoralizing, I'll explain what I mean. I'm 6' 4", 225 lbs (not all of which are ideally positioned), and one would probably think I was stronger than a 5' 2" 115 lb 25 year old young lady. That would be an erroneous assumption. For example, there is a machine that is used to build biceps, where you set the weights to your desired level before using and when you've finished, the setting you've used remains that way until the next user sits down and adjusts the weights to their desired workout level. Now, I used this machine immediately following the mentioned young lady and see that she is using 50 lb weights whereas I struggle with 35 lbs. My first inclination was to go home, eat a piece of pie and watch television, but I've decided not to wimp out just yet.
It's true that before I took my little hiatus from working out, I was doing 55 lbs on that machine. So my intent is to stick with it until I get back to that level. At least that's my intent.
After agonizing my way through the 10 different weight machines, I then get on the exercise bike and pedal my way along for a couple miles. Incidentally, the bikes are located adjacent to the rowing machines, so how far I pedal the bike is again dependent on who is exercising at the same time.
I did row enough today to bring my lifetime total rowing distance to over 100,000 meters.
I'll try to remember to post my progress on this exercise program in the future, unless I decide to just start competing in pie eating contests.
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
INAUGURATION
Yesterday I watched the inauguration on TV. Not the many hours of broadcast, but I did see the swearing-in.
I liked his speech. Unlike his predecessor, he is an accomplished orator. I told Lynne that a couple of times he sounded much like a preacher in the pulpit. I don't believe anyone can argue with his message. However, being able to perform a convincing delivery of a speech written by someone else is not unlike a performer displaying his talent on stage. Both Clinton’s come to mind when I think of people capable of making a convincing performance before a national audience, knowing all along their words were lies. They certainly aren’t the only ones, but they are among the masters of deception, in my opinion. Time will tell if Obama is another from the same mold. I hope not.
I thought the use of the word Muslim, twice I believe, was interesting. I don't believe I've ever heard that in an inauguration speech before, and it may be that now is the time for it. But, I fear it may give those who believe violence is the solution, reason to claim that their actions are responsible for that recognition, which is true, and then use that to promote further terrorism.
With all the turmoil in the world today, Middle East, Iran, N. Korea, Africa, etc, and then the environment and the economy, he has a virtually impossible task ahead. He acknowledges he won't be able to follow through on his campaign promises, which he probably couldn't have done anyway, but now he won't be battered too badly for it. At the moment, he has a friendly following in the media, and a Democratic Congress to support whatever initiatives he proposes, but if results aren't forth coming, he will have to rely on his oratory skills to reassure and motivate the nation. He may be able to do that for a while, but not long.
I sincerely wish him luck. He's going to need it.
I liked his speech. Unlike his predecessor, he is an accomplished orator. I told Lynne that a couple of times he sounded much like a preacher in the pulpit. I don't believe anyone can argue with his message. However, being able to perform a convincing delivery of a speech written by someone else is not unlike a performer displaying his talent on stage. Both Clinton’s come to mind when I think of people capable of making a convincing performance before a national audience, knowing all along their words were lies. They certainly aren’t the only ones, but they are among the masters of deception, in my opinion. Time will tell if Obama is another from the same mold. I hope not.
I thought the use of the word Muslim, twice I believe, was interesting. I don't believe I've ever heard that in an inauguration speech before, and it may be that now is the time for it. But, I fear it may give those who believe violence is the solution, reason to claim that their actions are responsible for that recognition, which is true, and then use that to promote further terrorism.
With all the turmoil in the world today, Middle East, Iran, N. Korea, Africa, etc, and then the environment and the economy, he has a virtually impossible task ahead. He acknowledges he won't be able to follow through on his campaign promises, which he probably couldn't have done anyway, but now he won't be battered too badly for it. At the moment, he has a friendly following in the media, and a Democratic Congress to support whatever initiatives he proposes, but if results aren't forth coming, he will have to rely on his oratory skills to reassure and motivate the nation. He may be able to do that for a while, but not long.
I sincerely wish him luck. He's going to need it.
Sunday, January 18, 2009
Traveling Family
My eldest son Tim just returned from two weeks in China. I was viewing the pictures he took, very enjoyable, and I realized what a traveling family we are.
In just the last few years, we've visited:
Lynne - Ukraine, China
Pat - Caribbean a couple times, Spain, Dominican Republic
Tim - Europe twice, Caribbean, India, China
Gary - Wilmington NC
We really get around!
In just the last few years, we've visited:
Lynne - Ukraine, China
Pat - Caribbean a couple times, Spain, Dominican Republic
Tim - Europe twice, Caribbean, India, China
Gary - Wilmington NC
We really get around!
Saturday, January 17, 2009
Poison
My wife is poisoning me.
I suspect she’s been doing this for about a year. She’s very sneaky, and doing it in small doses so no one will notice. I’ve been wondering for some time about changes in my physical appearance, my reasoning abilities, the things I now somewhat enjoy doing that I used to hate, things I now don’t care to do that I used to really enjoy, my changed eating habits and desire for foods that I used to not care for, and the list goes on.
I’ll explain how I realized what was happening.
Today I was shopping for some of those little rugs I mentioned in an earlier post. Yesterday, I had purchased 6 of the little rugs. Took them home, and realized I didn’t like the way they looked in the house. So today I returned 5 of the 6, and commenced looking for others that better fit our décor. I found one I thought was just darling and purchased it, thinking at the time, that if it wasn’t just right I could return it tomorrow and shop for another replacement. After making my purchase, I was meandering around the store and found a nice sweater on sale that I liked, and since it was on sale, I felt I had to buy it and I did.
When I got home, I put the rug in place and was pleased with how it looked. Feeling somewhat proud of myself, I decided to try on my new sweater.
Now, in the past year, I have gained about 25 pounds. This, after weighing the same +or-5 pounds for the past 30 years. I’ve been aware of this but thought it may just be part of the aging process, until I put on my new sweater and discovered I have developed boobs. Not big, but they didn’t use to be there.
This is when all the subtle changes that have been taking place over the past year hit me, and I realized what she’s been doing.
I imagine you’ve already figured it out. That’s right, my wife is slipping estrogen into my food. I don’t know how much needs to be consumed to be fatal, or maybe that’s not her intent, she may be satisfied just for me to behave as she does. It’s really scary, because it obviously is working.
Hmmm, I wonder what would happen if I started lacing her food with testosterone?
I suspect she’s been doing this for about a year. She’s very sneaky, and doing it in small doses so no one will notice. I’ve been wondering for some time about changes in my physical appearance, my reasoning abilities, the things I now somewhat enjoy doing that I used to hate, things I now don’t care to do that I used to really enjoy, my changed eating habits and desire for foods that I used to not care for, and the list goes on.
I’ll explain how I realized what was happening.
Today I was shopping for some of those little rugs I mentioned in an earlier post. Yesterday, I had purchased 6 of the little rugs. Took them home, and realized I didn’t like the way they looked in the house. So today I returned 5 of the 6, and commenced looking for others that better fit our décor. I found one I thought was just darling and purchased it, thinking at the time, that if it wasn’t just right I could return it tomorrow and shop for another replacement. After making my purchase, I was meandering around the store and found a nice sweater on sale that I liked, and since it was on sale, I felt I had to buy it and I did.
When I got home, I put the rug in place and was pleased with how it looked. Feeling somewhat proud of myself, I decided to try on my new sweater.
Now, in the past year, I have gained about 25 pounds. This, after weighing the same +or-5 pounds for the past 30 years. I’ve been aware of this but thought it may just be part of the aging process, until I put on my new sweater and discovered I have developed boobs. Not big, but they didn’t use to be there.
This is when all the subtle changes that have been taking place over the past year hit me, and I realized what she’s been doing.
I imagine you’ve already figured it out. That’s right, my wife is slipping estrogen into my food. I don’t know how much needs to be consumed to be fatal, or maybe that’s not her intent, she may be satisfied just for me to behave as she does. It’s really scary, because it obviously is working.
Hmmm, I wonder what would happen if I started lacing her food with testosterone?
Friday, January 16, 2009
Wrong again
In an earlier post, I mentioned being pleased that my wife had selected a neutral color for our carpet, and we wouldn't need new accessories.
Well guess what. She told me today we need new drapes. Need mind you, as in we need food to eat and need water to drink.
I'm pretty sure I could survive just fine without new drapes, but if I make an issue of it I'm sure I'll regret it and eventually give in.
But, if I give in pleasantly enough, with just enough resistance to make sure she's aware of my displeasure, I may be able to use this to get something we really do need. Like a nice LCD TV for the garage, and having an idea what the drapes will cost, I may even be able to squeeze a Playboy subscription out of this.
After you're married awhile, a long while in our case, you eventually learn how to play the game. Although, I sometimes think she's a better player than me.
Well guess what. She told me today we need new drapes. Need mind you, as in we need food to eat and need water to drink.
I'm pretty sure I could survive just fine without new drapes, but if I make an issue of it I'm sure I'll regret it and eventually give in.
But, if I give in pleasantly enough, with just enough resistance to make sure she's aware of my displeasure, I may be able to use this to get something we really do need. Like a nice LCD TV for the garage, and having an idea what the drapes will cost, I may even be able to squeeze a Playboy subscription out of this.
After you're married awhile, a long while in our case, you eventually learn how to play the game. Although, I sometimes think she's a better player than me.
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
little rugs
Now that our new carpet is installed, we are buying little rugs to put over it, so it won't get dirty.
If I had thought of that before, we could have bought a whole lot of little rugs to cover the whole house, and saved a few thousand dollars.
But, as I've been told, I guess I just don't understand!
If I had thought of that before, we could have bought a whole lot of little rugs to cover the whole house, and saved a few thousand dollars.
But, as I've been told, I guess I just don't understand!
TOFU
Ever eaten tofu? Better question would be "have you eaten tofu more than once"?
I'll bet the answer is a strong "no", unless you were unfortunate enough to be on the absolute brink of starvation.
I know this about tofu because our child-in-law is a pescatarian (look it up). She is a real sweetheart, in spite of this one oddity which makes it difficult to feed her. Going out to eat, or the alternative, a bowl of Cheerios, gets tiresome. Therefore, I decided to learn how to prepare an acceptable meal that she and everyone else could enjoy.
I could write for an hour on all I've learned about tofu in the past three days, but I'll try not to.
Tofu is derived from the innocent little soy bean. This product of nature is then deformed in such a way that when you combine a whole bunch of them, you end up with a big soft, very wet, brick of modeling clay.
This brick is soaked in water, packaged in a plastic container with lots of attractive healthy looking decorations, and sold to unsuspecting consumers. I, on the other hand was an informed consumer, who had researched the product intensely, and was convinced I could turn this into an attractive and tasty meal, the whole family could enjoy.
I had read where the "trick" to preparing tofu was to freeze it before cooking. This would give the stuff a chewy texture, much like meat. So, I purchased a package of extra-firm tofu. Then I followed the recipe directions to the letter.
The first step is to squeeze as much of the water out of the block of tofu as you possibly can. Let me explain here that a 4" by 4" by 2" block of tofu contains enough water to sustain a family of 4 for 2 weeks in the Sahara. Once you give up on getting the water out, you freeze it overnight to give it texture. Then the next day you slice it, marinade it, and let it soak overnight in the refrigerator. The next day you cook it. I had decided to prepare a stir-fry. Simple enough, celery, green and red peppers, snow peas, water chestnuts, onions, mushrooms and the marinated tofu.
This is where I made my second mistake, the first was beginning this project.
I found an electric wok in a cabinet in the laundry room. It had never been used, and I believe it was a wedding gift we received in 1975. Never having used a wok before, I did some more research, and discovered I didn't have the proper cooking utensils to become an accomplished wok chef. So I bought some.
I also read up on wok technique. Seemed simple enough, put a little oil in the wok, when its hot, add some veggies, cook them a while then "push them up the side" of the wok while you add different veggies to cook, then "push them up the side". Repeat this until all veggies and the tofu have been cooked, place servings on plates and everybody ohs and ahs about the delicious meal.
There is one problem here. My wok is not equipped with an anti-gravity feature. When I "push something up the side" it doesn't stay there. It slides back down to the bottom of the wok. Eventually, all ingredients are in a big unmanageable pile at the bottom of the wok.
The entire experience is something I do not intend to repeat.
Oh, one last thing, the tofu is not as chewy as anything I consider to be meat.
I forgot to mention that while that tofu was marinating, I also made a tofu pineapple cheesecake. Which actually was quite chewy. Maybe the baking has something to do with the chewiness. Or more likely, if you want it to be chewy, it won't be. But if you want it to be smoothe and creamy, you get chewy. We did eat one half of one slice of the cheesecake.
Need a set of bamboo wok tools? Wok thrown in at no extra charge.
I'll end this post with a comment from my son Pat, "There's a reason tofu ends in fu".
I'll bet the answer is a strong "no", unless you were unfortunate enough to be on the absolute brink of starvation.
I know this about tofu because our child-in-law is a pescatarian (look it up). She is a real sweetheart, in spite of this one oddity which makes it difficult to feed her. Going out to eat, or the alternative, a bowl of Cheerios, gets tiresome. Therefore, I decided to learn how to prepare an acceptable meal that she and everyone else could enjoy.
I could write for an hour on all I've learned about tofu in the past three days, but I'll try not to.
Tofu is derived from the innocent little soy bean. This product of nature is then deformed in such a way that when you combine a whole bunch of them, you end up with a big soft, very wet, brick of modeling clay.
This brick is soaked in water, packaged in a plastic container with lots of attractive healthy looking decorations, and sold to unsuspecting consumers. I, on the other hand was an informed consumer, who had researched the product intensely, and was convinced I could turn this into an attractive and tasty meal, the whole family could enjoy.
I had read where the "trick" to preparing tofu was to freeze it before cooking. This would give the stuff a chewy texture, much like meat. So, I purchased a package of extra-firm tofu. Then I followed the recipe directions to the letter.
The first step is to squeeze as much of the water out of the block of tofu as you possibly can. Let me explain here that a 4" by 4" by 2" block of tofu contains enough water to sustain a family of 4 for 2 weeks in the Sahara. Once you give up on getting the water out, you freeze it overnight to give it texture. Then the next day you slice it, marinade it, and let it soak overnight in the refrigerator. The next day you cook it. I had decided to prepare a stir-fry. Simple enough, celery, green and red peppers, snow peas, water chestnuts, onions, mushrooms and the marinated tofu.
This is where I made my second mistake, the first was beginning this project.
I found an electric wok in a cabinet in the laundry room. It had never been used, and I believe it was a wedding gift we received in 1975. Never having used a wok before, I did some more research, and discovered I didn't have the proper cooking utensils to become an accomplished wok chef. So I bought some.
I also read up on wok technique. Seemed simple enough, put a little oil in the wok, when its hot, add some veggies, cook them a while then "push them up the side" of the wok while you add different veggies to cook, then "push them up the side". Repeat this until all veggies and the tofu have been cooked, place servings on plates and everybody ohs and ahs about the delicious meal.
There is one problem here. My wok is not equipped with an anti-gravity feature. When I "push something up the side" it doesn't stay there. It slides back down to the bottom of the wok. Eventually, all ingredients are in a big unmanageable pile at the bottom of the wok.
The entire experience is something I do not intend to repeat.
Oh, one last thing, the tofu is not as chewy as anything I consider to be meat.
I forgot to mention that while that tofu was marinating, I also made a tofu pineapple cheesecake. Which actually was quite chewy. Maybe the baking has something to do with the chewiness. Or more likely, if you want it to be chewy, it won't be. But if you want it to be smoothe and creamy, you get chewy. We did eat one half of one slice of the cheesecake.
Need a set of bamboo wok tools? Wok thrown in at no extra charge.
I'll end this post with a comment from my son Pat, "There's a reason tofu ends in fu".
Monday, January 12, 2009
walking on plastic bottles
Today our new carpet was installed. This carpet is made of 100% recycled plastic bottles. Our daughter-in-law will be so proud of us. I have to admit my wife did a good job on the color selection. It's probably called biege. To me it looks like an off-white that comes pre-dirtied. Kind of like the jeans you can buy today that are manufactured to look as though they've been worn for two years on a pig farm.
Anyway, its done and the color is neutral enough that we shouldn't need new furniture or other accessories.
Anyway, its done and the color is neutral enough that we shouldn't need new furniture or other accessories.
Saturday, January 10, 2009
China Dream
I had a dream last night. I dream often, but this one was very vivid, so I thought I would try to write it down. It’s interesting how, as I understand it, a single dream may only last a few seconds yet when trying to describe it in words, one would think it had lasted much longer.
Location: China
Timeframe: Approx. 2020
Character: Chen-wi, 84 years old
Chen-wi was having tea at the teahouse beside the river with 3 other older members of the village. They were discussing how the village came about and how it was not as enjoyable as their previous home. It had been constructed to house the people who had to be relocated, to facilitate the building of the great dam. They had lived in a small village of 800 people, where as their new neighbors numbered more than 20,000, still very small by Chinese standards. The government had forced them to abandon the home where they and their ancestors had lived for hundreds of years, to make room for the huge reservoir that would be created by the dam.
Their new village was located 10 miles downriver of the dam, in a valley with high cliffs about one mile from each side of what was now a narrow and placid river. The valley had become a prosperous agricultural area, due to the controlled flow of water provided by the dam, to irrigate the fields without the floods that had made the valley uninhabitable in the past. For this, Chen-wi and the other older men were grateful, however one could never forget the past, and the past is always more pleasant in memory than it had truly been.
The old men were fortunate to have had numerous children. Between the four of them they had 20 children, who now supported them and their wives, except Chen-wi whose four children had only to look after their father, as his wife had died of illness eight years ago. They often discussed what would happen to their children when they reached this age, since the government had forbidden them to have more than one child. However, on this day, they were talking about the amazing things that had happened since the dam was constructed, such as the lights that lit their homes and the intriguing television that their children and grandchild watched so often.
When the telephone in the teahouse rang, the proprietor answered and handed the telephone to Chen-wi, saying, “it is your eldest son”. Chen-wi had seldom used a telephone, as there was no one other than the people he saw daily in the village that he needed or wished to talk to, and he was puzzled as to why his son, who worked at the dam, would wish to talk to him now. It’s true that all his children knew he would be at the teahouse at this time of day, but why a telephone, this was very unusual, and the other men were curious as well. Chen-wi put the device to his ear and said “yes?”, but there was no response. He asked again, but still no answer, so he handed the device back to the proprietor with a shrug of his shoulders.
It was time now for Chen-wi to leave the teahouse to tend to his flowers, as he always did at ten o’clock in the morning. He stood to leave, bowing to the proprietor and his companions. As he was walking from the garden of the teahouse, the proprietor’s dog rose from his resting place beside the fish pond and began to whimper as if in pain, and then to bark as though an intruder were approaching. The men still seated, exchanged glances and knowingly prepared themselves. They had experienced this many times in their lives, first the animals would react to something only they could sense, and then the earthquake would arrive. Most often, the quakes were minor, but occasionally they had been severe. Each of the men had lost friends and loved ones to the landslides that followed the big quakes.
When the saucers and teacups began to rattle, the men stood to brace themselves for what they feared may happen. As expected, the ground began to move, but not violently just a slight rowing motion. The tremor lasted less than a minute and subsided. The men smiled and sat to resume their tea and conversation, knowing the actual quake had occurred some miles away and was not a threat to them.
Chen-wi returned to the table as the proprietor was adding hot water to the teapot. The men looked up and one asked “why haven’t you gone to see to your flowers?” and another added “surely a tremor such as this doesn’t frighten you”.
Chen-wi responded “the tremor is nothing and I would ignore it as I would the dark of night, if my son had not called earlier on the telephone and then was not there to answer when I spoke to him. I am concerned as to where this quake did its damage and fear it may have been at the dam where my son works”.
The other men nodded their heads understanding Chen-wi’s worry, then attempting to ease his mind, assured him that if anything had happened at the dam surely someone would call to inform them.
“How would they call?” Chen-wi asked. “Without the dam there is no electricity, and without electricity, there is no telephone?”
“This is true”, one responded, “you must ask your son to explain this when he returns this evening”.
Then the dog, which had continued to pace back and forth after the tremor, began to bark again, not a whimper this time, but a bark of alarm. The men looked at one another and prepared for another tremor. There was no tremor, but instead, a noise they had never heard before.
The noise became louder and louder and then was mixed with cries of terror from people outside the teahouse. The three men rose from their seats as Chen-wi walked to the terrace overlooking the river to see what was happening.
When he looked upriver, he saw a wall of water 30 meters high that stretched from cliff to cliff across their valley. He saw trees, boulders, homes and people being engulfed and swept away, and he realized that he and all in the village, including his sons, daughters, and grandchildren would suffer the same fate.
They would all die this day.
Location: China
Timeframe: Approx. 2020
Character: Chen-wi, 84 years old
Chen-wi was having tea at the teahouse beside the river with 3 other older members of the village. They were discussing how the village came about and how it was not as enjoyable as their previous home. It had been constructed to house the people who had to be relocated, to facilitate the building of the great dam. They had lived in a small village of 800 people, where as their new neighbors numbered more than 20,000, still very small by Chinese standards. The government had forced them to abandon the home where they and their ancestors had lived for hundreds of years, to make room for the huge reservoir that would be created by the dam.
Their new village was located 10 miles downriver of the dam, in a valley with high cliffs about one mile from each side of what was now a narrow and placid river. The valley had become a prosperous agricultural area, due to the controlled flow of water provided by the dam, to irrigate the fields without the floods that had made the valley uninhabitable in the past. For this, Chen-wi and the other older men were grateful, however one could never forget the past, and the past is always more pleasant in memory than it had truly been.
The old men were fortunate to have had numerous children. Between the four of them they had 20 children, who now supported them and their wives, except Chen-wi whose four children had only to look after their father, as his wife had died of illness eight years ago. They often discussed what would happen to their children when they reached this age, since the government had forbidden them to have more than one child. However, on this day, they were talking about the amazing things that had happened since the dam was constructed, such as the lights that lit their homes and the intriguing television that their children and grandchild watched so often.
When the telephone in the teahouse rang, the proprietor answered and handed the telephone to Chen-wi, saying, “it is your eldest son”. Chen-wi had seldom used a telephone, as there was no one other than the people he saw daily in the village that he needed or wished to talk to, and he was puzzled as to why his son, who worked at the dam, would wish to talk to him now. It’s true that all his children knew he would be at the teahouse at this time of day, but why a telephone, this was very unusual, and the other men were curious as well. Chen-wi put the device to his ear and said “yes?”, but there was no response. He asked again, but still no answer, so he handed the device back to the proprietor with a shrug of his shoulders.
It was time now for Chen-wi to leave the teahouse to tend to his flowers, as he always did at ten o’clock in the morning. He stood to leave, bowing to the proprietor and his companions. As he was walking from the garden of the teahouse, the proprietor’s dog rose from his resting place beside the fish pond and began to whimper as if in pain, and then to bark as though an intruder were approaching. The men still seated, exchanged glances and knowingly prepared themselves. They had experienced this many times in their lives, first the animals would react to something only they could sense, and then the earthquake would arrive. Most often, the quakes were minor, but occasionally they had been severe. Each of the men had lost friends and loved ones to the landslides that followed the big quakes.
When the saucers and teacups began to rattle, the men stood to brace themselves for what they feared may happen. As expected, the ground began to move, but not violently just a slight rowing motion. The tremor lasted less than a minute and subsided. The men smiled and sat to resume their tea and conversation, knowing the actual quake had occurred some miles away and was not a threat to them.
Chen-wi returned to the table as the proprietor was adding hot water to the teapot. The men looked up and one asked “why haven’t you gone to see to your flowers?” and another added “surely a tremor such as this doesn’t frighten you”.
Chen-wi responded “the tremor is nothing and I would ignore it as I would the dark of night, if my son had not called earlier on the telephone and then was not there to answer when I spoke to him. I am concerned as to where this quake did its damage and fear it may have been at the dam where my son works”.
The other men nodded their heads understanding Chen-wi’s worry, then attempting to ease his mind, assured him that if anything had happened at the dam surely someone would call to inform them.
“How would they call?” Chen-wi asked. “Without the dam there is no electricity, and without electricity, there is no telephone?”
“This is true”, one responded, “you must ask your son to explain this when he returns this evening”.
Then the dog, which had continued to pace back and forth after the tremor, began to bark again, not a whimper this time, but a bark of alarm. The men looked at one another and prepared for another tremor. There was no tremor, but instead, a noise they had never heard before.
The noise became louder and louder and then was mixed with cries of terror from people outside the teahouse. The three men rose from their seats as Chen-wi walked to the terrace overlooking the river to see what was happening.
When he looked upriver, he saw a wall of water 30 meters high that stretched from cliff to cliff across their valley. He saw trees, boulders, homes and people being engulfed and swept away, and he realized that he and all in the village, including his sons, daughters, and grandchildren would suffer the same fate.
They would all die this day.
Wednesday, January 7, 2009
getting carpet
We're getting new carpet next week. The stuff we have is only 19 years old, but my wife wants new stuff.
I'm sure this is a woman thing. Always wanting to change something. She's given up on changing me, so now I guess we have to change the rest of her environment.
There's nothing wrong with the carpet we have. I mean there aren't any holes in it, and it still fits the room, unlike our clothes which seem to be shrinking. I imagine we'll need a new washing machine and dryer soon because they're obviously make our clothes smaller.
I'm also pretty sure we'll need a new vacuum cleaner for the new carpet as well. There's nothing wrong with the vacuum cleaner we have, except it doesn't get used very often. Which may explain why we need new carpet.
I let my wife pick out the color of the carpet. I suspect it will be something between orange and purple. Which of course, will necessitate new drapes and furniture.
I sometimes wonder why, when I was single, I thought that was not a good situation. What the hell, it's only money, and apparently we have a lot of that tucked away somewhere I don't know about.
I'm sure this is a woman thing. Always wanting to change something. She's given up on changing me, so now I guess we have to change the rest of her environment.
There's nothing wrong with the carpet we have. I mean there aren't any holes in it, and it still fits the room, unlike our clothes which seem to be shrinking. I imagine we'll need a new washing machine and dryer soon because they're obviously make our clothes smaller.
I'm also pretty sure we'll need a new vacuum cleaner for the new carpet as well. There's nothing wrong with the vacuum cleaner we have, except it doesn't get used very often. Which may explain why we need new carpet.
I let my wife pick out the color of the carpet. I suspect it will be something between orange and purple. Which of course, will necessitate new drapes and furniture.
I sometimes wonder why, when I was single, I thought that was not a good situation. What the hell, it's only money, and apparently we have a lot of that tucked away somewhere I don't know about.
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