My Room

At long last, I have my own room. At least I'd like to think so. After two years, a lot of effort and more money than I'd prefer to think about, the bonus room over the garage is done, and we have begun to "move in." I am sitting here with my back toward the afternoon window, looking out at a still mostly unfurnished room - there is a trundle bed for guests, and a recliner that was a bigger pain to move up the stairs than I had bargained for. The wall of built-in bookshelves are still empty, but hold the promise of a quiet reading-room to be. I am typing this on my laptop of course, sitting behind a new dark wood desk, boasting a classy modern black finish with matching two-shelf stand and a 2-drawer file cabinet right behind me. To my right is a recently purchased HP TouchPad, currently linked to an internet radio station playing the smooth sounds of big band and swing. Or, with the touch of the screen, I can be logged into a web service that allows me to play digital audio files from our CD collection (which are stored on the media computer in the kitchen). The TouchPad is connected via stereo cable to a set of Bose speakers behind me, which fill the room with whatever soundtrack I desire.

This is to be my place, my refuge where I can escape the world for a few moments at a time and indulge my desire for solitude, and perhaps to write whatever words may come.

Of course, it is not just my room. Before very long, I'm certain it will become Grand Central Station (as attested by the arrival at this precise moment of my youngest son, trying to look over my shoulder). But aside from the interruptions, it is still nice to have a place to go, to have a space more or less my own.

I have long wanted a place to write and to read, a place to study and research, a place to rest that "feels" like my own. Although, I can't say whether the words will come any easier this way (indeed, I'm finding it quite tempting to let the music play, cut the lights, and nap in that recliner over there). But at least I'm nearly set up for the endeavor.

Yet the real world continues to breathe heavily down my neck. I have 6 months of work to do in the next 3, and I have more than a little anxiety about the outcome, not to mention the personal cost of associated with achieving success. I hit burnout 7 months ago, and have found little relief since then. Still, I am enslaved to the deadline before me, so I will give up my Sunday afternoon and soldier through it somehow.

But that can wait a few more minutes, while I close my eyes and immerse myself in the music filling this space, taking for myself a moment of solitude, rest and escape in this delightful sanctum that is my room.

O Waly, Waly

Sometimes, a melody seeps its way into your mind and takes up residence, like an old friend whose name you cannot quite remember, but remember him you do, and fondly. Such is the nearly 400 year old folk song known as "O Waly, Waly." I have heard this in many places and in many forms over the years, never really knowing or remembering its origins - I may have even played it once or twice. It is a lovely and haunting song that truly plays on the heartstrings, like a memory.

I present two versions of it for you tonight. The first video is of the Eleva Chamber Players performing the 3rd Movement of Suite for Strings by John Rutter. The second is a live vocal performance by Hayley Westernra. Beautiful, haunting, and strangely comforting despite its melancholy.

Arrested Development

I feel as old as I have my whole life. The world I perceive through my eyes changes frequently - and often dramatically - with the passage of time. Landscapes once as open as the expanse of nature are turned over to the migratory expansion of man, while old haunts are either paved over or left to rot. Faces I see begin to reveal lines once hidden, whereas the young seem ever younger in comparison. I even look in the mirror with puzzlement, because what I see is a disconnect between what my mind says and what my eyes see to be the impact of time.

I am as old as I have been my whole life. When I was a teenager, I constantly wrestled with the meaning of manhood, the meaning of being an adult and the nature of the boundary I presumed I would have to cross to finally and fully become "grown up." Yet I'm beginning to wonder if such a boundary even exists, or, if it does exist, whether I will ever reach the border and cross it. Because despite being a husband and father, despite being fully employed and owning property, and despite carrying the burdens typically associated with being an adult … I'm still not sure that I've "grown up."

Is it a case of arrested development? So many of the insecurities I had at 12 I still have now at 40. The uncertainty and obsessions that have driven me all my life still drive me. Coming to faith in Christ changed some of that, but every time I stop to take measure of myself - of who I am, or who I am becoming - I feel less sure that I will ever arrive at that place of wisdom that I imagine to be the hallmark of an adult. What does that even mean?

The world I perceive is constantly changing, but who I am seems to be unchanged, from behind these eyes anyway. Or perhaps that's not true at all, and I am changed and still changing on account of life's many experiences, but am just unable to see it clearly for myself.

Or maybe still, this whole notion of being a grown-up is a false construct. What we are, we are. Perhaps wisdom, as a measure of … something … only has meaning when it is placed in context, to compare or contrast.

I am as old as I've always been. And perhaps there is nothing really wrong with that. Maybe, I just … am.

Google Buys Motorola - For Patents

I meant to sit down and comment yesterday on the news that Google plans to purchase Motorola Mobility for $12.5 billion. It is a staggering development that furthers the downward slide of Motorola as an innovating technology pioneer and bellwether.

The deal marks the end of independence for a company that helped pioneer mobile phones and introduced its first consumer handset in the early 1980s.

Motorola announced a plan to spin off its mobile-phone business in March 2008 amid market share losses and pressure from billionaire Icahn. The company completed the split in January, after the global recession delayed the deal. Motorola Inc. became Motorola Solutions Inc., which makes radio equipment for emergency workers and scanning devices for retailers.

I began my career with Motorola, first working for the company (then well over 120,000 employees worldwide) as a cooperative education student until graduating from college, then joining one of the company's telecommunication equipment making facilities as an electrical engineer doing modem design and product sustainment. In my naiveté, I really wanted to be a "company-man" and stay a Motorolan for my entire career. The 1990's saw a fierce battle waged for market position as enablers of the "Information Age" as it was so often described. When I started, we were developing 9600 baud modems, 2400 cellular modems (the beloved "bricks"), and CSUs/DSUs on the digital side. Then as analog communication standards were approved we quickly ramped to 14.4 bps, 28.8 bps, 33.6 bps all the way to the fight for 56K, then purported to be the fastest speed you could get over a standard phone line. Shortly afterwards, however, Motorola pulled the plug on the effort. From a cost of business standpoint, the company just could not compete. For despite the fact that Motorola quality almost always ranked near the top, thanks in part to a rigorous (and over-burdening) quality process (think Six Sigma and blame it on Motorola), the "cost" of that quality made our products less than price competitive. By 1998, the plant was shut down and operations consolidated elsewhere. I tried to stick with the company a little longer, accepting a transfer to the Semiconductor Products Sector, but in time I was forced to accept that unless I was willing to move to Schaumburg to work a Quality Management job, Motorola would not be in my long term future. So I moved on.

I continued to watch the company, although I'm not entirely sure why. I watched over time as they poured more and more resources into cell phones and pagers, and then dropping pagers. Eventually they sold (or spun off, depending on who you read) their semiconductor business. Recently, the company split in two, forming Motorola Mobility (the cell phone / smart phone commodity business unit) and Motorola Solutions (radios, IT and enterprise infrastructure). Now the latter is all that is left.

That the company was bought by Google is a little disconcerting. I find it funny how people scream about oil companies and profits and the like, when in my view the more suspect corporatist machinations revolve around the information industry (Google, Apple, Microsoft). What this deal gives Google is control over all the patents Motorola owns dating back to the early days of cellular and communications technology. Motorola once was an innovator. Now, it seems their value is based less on the work they do now, and more on work done in the past. It is sad, as an ex-Motorolan, to see the one-time leader fall so far. What they have left leaves them as one of many. Motorola is not dead, but they are no longer something special.

In my garage, on my workbench, is an old 1950's era AM radio built by Motorola. Although slow to power up, it still works. But largely, it is a forgotten artifact buried behind piles of toolboxes and scrap wood. Hopefully, the company will fare better than that radio. Because even though I haven't worked for the company in 13 years, I still would like to see them succeed.

NASA Looking to Retain Institutional Knowledge

I've written previously about my concerns with regard to the potential loss of scientific and engineering know-how that may be inevitable with the (temporary?) grounding of NASA's manned space flight program. While the privatization of space flight capabilities carries with it the opportunity to press forward into that last frontier, it does not in itself negate the impact of losing 6 decades of knowledge and experience in the design of vehicle and propulsion systems. This is a real possibility if the program stays grounded for too long.

Fortunately, NASA is taking steps to retain that technical knowledge, through the creation of the National Institute for Rocket Propulsion Systems (NIRPS):

HUNTSVILLE, Alabama - There's an urban myth in the rocket world that today's engineers couldn't recreate the mighty Saturn V F-1 engines that took Americans to the moon if they wanted to. Critical technology has been lost, the story goes.

Not exactly true, say today's propulsion experts at NASA's Marshall Space Flight Center in Huntsville. Some techniques are no longer available, it's true, but better ones exist.

"Building on the knowledge base left to us by those old-timers," Marshall's Dr. Dale Thomas said Wednesday, "we can today build a better F-1 than they did."

The key to understanding Marshall's new push in propulsion is in the first phrase of that sentence: "Building on the knowledge base left to us."

That's the first thing that Thomas, Marshall's associate director for technical issues, and his boss, center Director Robert Lightfoot, want to do with Marshall's planned new National Institute for Rocket Propulsion systems (NIRPS). They want to preserve today's expertise so it can be there tomorrow.

...

Lightfoot wants the institute to be a "strategic asset" for the country, and he said basing it in Huntsville at Marshall just makes sense. There's already Department of Defense and industry knowledge nearby, and there's the treasure trove at Marshall, NASA's home of propulsion.

This strikes me as a brilliant, common sense idea. If indeed NASA is reverting to more of an R&D business model, less oriented around the sustainment of an operational supply and delivery system, then it strikes me as wise to capture the critical knowledge of propulsion technologies and engineering that produced the systems of the past, to inform the design decisions of the future.

Here's hoping the idea, er, takes off.

A Cacophony and a Horrible Realization

After another mind-numbing day at the office, I arrived home this evening to the sounds of a cadre of concert musicians warming up for a performance in my living room. It was indeed a cacophony of sound, with snare and bells from the percussion family, and a coronet and a trumpet from the brass family. That only three members of my immediate family could alone produce such a sound was remarkable to say the least.

My oldest son has elected to take band this year, and brought home the percussion set. Actually, it is quite remarkable, with his off-the-charts mathematical aptitude and an ear for pitch, he picks up rhythms quite easily, and was playing a selection of music from Harry Potter, the 80's band Europe, and Halloween (a movie he is far to young to see). Almost a natural at piano, I imagine he could play almost anything he wants.

Of course, my younger son wanted to play something too, so my wife got down her trumpet and coronet. Together, they blasted the brass and rattled the windows. Finding that the woodwinds lacked representation, I naturally pulled down my clarinets (I have two) to see if I could still rip a chromatic scale.

Too my horror, and near utter devastation, I couldn't play it cleanly. Not even sort of. The fact that it has been nearly 10 years since I picked up the horn doesn't matter, because to my way of thinking, I should have been able to play a chromatic without a single mis-fingering. Instead, I sounded like 8th grader who skips too many lessons and never practices.

This is no small thing, though you may laugh at my musical misfortune. I am usually not prone to bragging, but in reality I was quite good at the instrument. I've played the clarinet since I was in 5th grade, which was, let's see, 30 years ago (!). I played straight through high school, worked my way to 1st chair, participated in a number of honor bands, solo and ensemble competitions, and so on. I played in symphonic bands and concerts bands. I took a year and half away from it when I started college, but eventually came back to play with the Auburn Symphonic Band, and also with the Auburn University Marching Band until graduation. For the first several years after our marriage, my wife and I would return to play with the alumni at Homecoming. But then came the boys, and life, and I put the music away.

To this day, whenever I hear a piece that I've performed, I am often transported somewhere else, because when I played, it was an experience of total immersion. It's as if I remember every note, every sound, and how my part blends with the whole. Putting that part of me away was a practical, if somewhat unintentional choice. But I've always known that if I chose, I'd be able to pick it up, and continue to play.

Of course, I'm subject to the truth as is everybody else. If you don't practice in 10 years, you're probably going to be a bit rusty. But to be sure, after about 15 minutes, I stopped thinking quite so much and just allowed my fingers to move. The horn needs some repair, but the skill that lies dormant is there to be awakened someday. See there, the illusions I have which were so rudely shattered can once again be reassembled. I feel a little better now.

One thing is for certain. Music (and rhythm) will be returning to our household. And no matter how it sounds in the early going, it will be a symphony to my ears.

New Look

In honor of finally finishing off the bonus room upstairs (other than actually moving in), I decided to keep the renovation spirit going with an upgrade to the blog design. Well, okay, these events actually have nothing to do with each other. Truth is, I was bored with the old look, and some of the features were no longer working correctly due to recent updates by Blogger.

It'll take a little getting used to, but I think I like it.

"Don't You See?"

Ordinarily, I don't enjoy songs with overt political messages. Patriotic, yes. Political, not really. But the feature embedded below (which mind you is audio-only, no video) caught my attention the other day while listening to a podcast, so I figured I'd post it despite its overt message. A message mind you, that I've already expressed here in a number of ways.

The song is entitled "Don't You See?" and was produced for a contest run recently by the folks at Powerline blog. According to their site, it was written by Jason Nyberg and performed by his nine-year-old daughter. Follow the link back to the Powerline post, to read up on the background and to see the lyrics. You can even download the song for your own use there for free. And there's even a chord chart available. They clearly want this to go viral.

It's a fun song, performed well, and I largely agree with the lyrics.



(h/t): Powerline

At Some Point, You Have to Stop Digging

I've shied away from commenting on the debt ceiling circus these past few weeks, mostly out of fear that I'll develop a blood-pressure problem. With so much invective being thrown every which way, I find it hard to keep it all in perspective. For decades, the political class has widened the gulf between it and the citizen class, tinkering with a massive Leviathan it no longer understands, much less knows how to control. Sometimes I wish I could just tune it all out. Easier said than done for a news junkie like me.

Tonight, I read this headline: "US borrowing tops 100% of GDP":

US debt shot up $238 billion to reach 100 percent of gross domestic project after the government's debt ceiling was lifted, Treasury figures showed Wednesday.

What does that mean? It means that our national debt is now greater than or equal to the entire domestic output of our economy. Think about that. As a nation, we owe more than we produce in a year. While not an exact analogy, it is akin to having a personal credit card debt that is greater than your total annual income. It basically puts you at the point that if you don't make changes, you will be unable to keep up in servicing that debt, much less paying it down. Nothing good comes of that. For whatever reason, these people seem to operate under the assumption that you can dig your way out of a hole. Newsflash: it doesn't work that way. You cannot spend your way of out debt.

I've been a part of two corporate downsizings. When your revenue declines, you have to reduce the cost of doing business. The only way to do that is to restructure, and sometimes that restructuring is drastic and painful. You cut big chunks out of your labor, and your business model or market. You divest yourself of non-producing ventures or liabilities.

At some point, I keep hoping that these folks on the hill will figure out that you have to stop digging. That's not going to happen anytime soon, and by the time the next election rolls around, we will be over $2 trillion deeper in debt than we are right now. The debt will increase faster than the cuts they promise will come.

But they just keep digging, singing:

We dig dig dig dig dig dig dig in our mine the whole day through
To dig dig dig dig dig dig dig is what we really like to do

Heigh-ho. Ugh.

Eye-Roll for Hollywood

First they came for the comic books. Then they raided old Saturday morning cartoons. Now, movie makers are going where Hollywood has never gone before …

Board games.

In 2012, Universal Studios will release Battleship, a movie adaptation of the famous Milton Bradley board game (now owned by Hasbro).

If you watch the trailer, it become obvious that this is basically a blow-em-up action flick, where the board game idea somehow meets Transformers or Independence Day, or some other sci-fi storyline with big honking alien spaceships.

It might be a fun movie, although I'm certain it is mindless and devoid of substance. (Not that there's anything wrong with that). But somehow I don't see forking over $8-$10 to watch it.

If Battleship succeeds, will that bring on a flood of new cinematic features based on board games? Sorry! Chutes and Ladders? Risk? Risk, now that would be an epic - you know how long it takes to play the game, can you imagine the movie?

I don't know that I'll bother seeing Battleship, but I might, if only to see if the script includes the line we all know by heart. Because if you are going to make a cheesy movie based on a game, at least go all out, and have Liam Neeson scream at the aliens saying:

"You sank my battleship!"

Rebirth of a Sunday Night Tradition

When I was young, on occasion my mother would declare Sunday nights to be popcorn and ice cream night. A family tradition from her growing up years, the big Sunday meal would be lunch. Supper therefore, was a lighter "meal" that from time to time would consist of freshly popped popcorn and ice cream for dessert. I remember Sunday nights sharing in this double treat, with the Wonderful World of Disney on ABC on television.

We've had a delightful weekend of a few classic live action Disney movies. Last night, we watched one of my favorites, Escape to Witch Mountain, featuring two off-world kids (Tia and Tony) with amazing powers and a knack for getting themselves into trouble. (In those young tender years, I recall having a silly crush on Kim Richards, the child actress who played Tia. Ah, youth.) This afternoon after church, we followed it up with Return to Witch Mountain. Finally, tonight, we declared it a popcorn night (alas, we had no ice cream in the freezer), and put in The Apple Dumpling Gang, with Bill Bixby, Don Knotts, Tim Conway and Harry Morgan. It has been interesting watching our boys discover that Disney used to be more than animation.

What a fun night. And a "tradition" worth continuing. Except next time, I think we need some ice cream. (It's just not the same without the ice cream).

Journey's Dawn

There is a strange dichotomy that afflicts me, riding along these open county roads. It is one that features both peace and lonely isolation. It is as timeless as the day is short, with nothing but the April breeze and the hum of 10-speed tread upon the asphalt. I am alone on the planet, needing to go not where I've been, but rather somewhere I have never been. I am stunned, uncertain how to react to the experience. I have to keep moving, but where? Up ahead lies a road I've never explored, and never felt compelled to survey. Until now.

I turn my eyes to the east, my back to the lowering sun, and take in the new surroundings as they pass by. New, alien, and barren. Remains of winter wheat rustle quietly as the slightest of winds brush across the landscape. I lift my eyes to the hills, such as they are (where does my help come from?). But there is nothing. I am alone on the planet, alone in my mind, and strangely calm in this most unusual of moments. Calm, but seeking, something. Anything. Answers to questions this newly awakened mind is unable to fully form.

Up on the left, a small building appears, standing a ways off the road. Markers are lined up in haphazard rows beside what is revealed to be a church. Lutheran, or so says the sign. I consider pressing on, but with the light beginning to ebb, and the main road that leads home out of sight, I turn in and come to a stop on the dirt lot 10 feet from what I suppose is the front door. The siding is weather worn and dirty, but the humble façade has a quaint appeal to this wandering soul. A cacophony of voices and emotions burst through my brain and just as quickly cease, as if they never were. No one is in sight, a realization that at first terrifies, as peace departs to leave only the isolation. I lean the bike against the fence, and walk toward the door, fearful of making any noise lest I be discovered. Irrational fear maybe, but caution nonetheless.

In that timeless moment, I stood silently before the door. I watched in wonder as my hand extended itself to the weathered handle with the thumb latch, only to be disappointed in the effort. Without warning, my hand came up again, knocking loudly on the locked white barrier keeping me from, from what I don't know. I waited and waited, but access to this solitary sanctuary remained closed. I am alone on the planet, but now, I feel lost. I bowed my head, inwardly pleading, praying to Someone I didn't know, a prayer devoid of words but full of need, and not just for myself. I sensed no response, no answer, no understanding. Just empty winds blowing across my face at the dawn of twilight. I made the effort, and maybe I was heard, but for now the burden was on me. Time to go.

I need to get home, before the darkness without matches the shadow within. There is a long drive ahead of us tomorrow, and I need to get ready.

"For the creation was subjected to frustration, not by its own choice, but by the will of the one who subjected it, in hope that the creation itself will be liberated from its bondage to decay and brought into the glorious freedom of the children of God." (Romans 8:20-21)

A Portrait of Me: The Key
A Portrait of Me: River Walk
A Portrait of Me: Journey's Dawn
A Portrait of Me: I Am Prodigal

Feel Good Post of the Day

Nice play, young man. Nice play.

Atlantis Arrives

And so it ends, in the darkness of pre-dawn, with far fewer eyes watching. Welcome home, Atlantis.


Not quite 42 years to the day Armstrong set foot on the moon, the U.S. manned space flight program takes a break - duration unknown. For now, I guess, that's a wrap.

Does Everybody Know What Time It Is?

TOOL TIME!

Twenty years ago this fall (20 years!), Home Improvement debuted on ABC. TVLand and Nick-At-Nite used to show syndicated reruns during the summer, but with TVLand now trying to produce new shows, and Nick opting in favor of other (less funny) sitcom options, I may have to resort to DVR to find the antics of the Taylor clan. Among my favorite episodes are those that feature "the guys from K&B Construction." The clip below is from the series finale:


Of course, the musical number that spawned this reprise came from a first season episode called "Stereo-Typical," which unfortunately I cannot embed. But you can see it here.

Good stuff. And maybe worth a timer on the DVR.

A Heartbreaking Fall

My first stop of the day once I sit down at the computer is Yahoo Sports Major League Baseball page. Every day. I check on scores, my fantasy team, and headlines of note. Usually, a little dose of baseball (along with a stiff cup of coffee) sets me up well for the day.

This morning, however, I was greeted with a story that cut quickly and cut deep. Perhaps it is my love of the game, or perhaps it is because it is so easy to identify with a father just trying to create a memory for his young son. I had to close my office door for a minute.

How terribly sad. Thoughts and prayers to the family, and especially to the son.

Godspeed, Atlantis

Weather permitting, the final launch of America's space shuttle program will take place tomorrow. As Atlantis awaits its moment on the pad, the retrospective commentaries have been plentiful. This is particularly true locally, as Huntsville is home to NASA's Marshall Space Flight Center, the heart and brain of NASA's propulsion technologies. Understandably, the final launch of Atlantis - and of the United States' manned space program for the foreseeable future - is sort of a big deal around here.

I am sad that I never managed to get the family down for a launch. I've always wanted to see it live, but the one opportunity we had resulted in a months long launch delay. For all the typical naysaying about the costs and benefits of the shuttle program, the fact that we have made the non-routine seem routine for 30 years is a remarkable achievement.

As for what comes next, it is hard to say. This article in the New York Times talks about the obvious consequence of ending a program: the loss of institutional knowledge and experience. Perhaps some of these will take on with private firms that will help usher in a commercial launch capability. Too soon to tell, I suppose. But losing that capability will have a commensurate cost should we ever decide to go back out there. Arguably, of course, the space program is still active, from a military perspective (the Delta IV is the current workhorse). Private firms are up and running, and NASA is still looking at a deep-space program. But for a while, there will be no launches, no missions to capture the pioneering imagination of the young, and the young-at-heart.

In the near term, any Americans going to space will do so courtesy of the Russians. It is almost a bitter irony, isn't it? They were the first, and while the greatest achievements belong to NASA, the Russians will still be there after we stop flying.

From the confines of my workdesk or the TV at home, I will be watching Atlantis. I will be watching when she lands for the final time following a 12-day mission to the International Space Station. Godspeed, Atlantis, and good luck.

Losing Faith in the System?

We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.—That to secure these rights, Governments are instituted among Men, deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed.—That whenever any Form of Government becomes destructive of these ends, it is the Right of the People to alter or to abolish it; and to institute new Government, laying its foundation on such principles and organizing its powers in such form, as to them shall seem most likely to effect their Safety and Happiness. Prudence, indeed, will dictate that Governments long established should not be changed for light and transient causes; and accordingly all experience hath shown, that mankind are more disposed to suffer, while evils are sufferable, than to right themselves by abolishing the forms to which they are accustomed. But when a long train of abuses and usurpations, pursuing invariably the same Object, evinces a design to reduce them under absolute Despotism, it is their right, it is their duty, to throw off such Government, and to provide new Guards for their future security.—Such has been the patient sufferance of these Colonies; and such is now the necessity which constrains them to alter their former Systems of Government. …

Generations ago, the men we now revere as the founding founders of our Nation lost faith in the system under which each had been born, under which each had been educated, under which each had thrived, and under which they had ultimately been oppressed. At some level, they had to be seriously disillusioned with the hand they had been dealt under a monarchy seeking to maintain control over a distant empire. But they also had a firm grasp of an ideal - notions of natural rights and liberty that is the birthright of every individual. They had to have had a hope and a faith in the potential of such ideals, to propel them through a costly conflict that led to independence.

Modern generations, so we are told, are much less optimistic. In a doom-and-gloom piece out of the Telegraph comes a snapshot of the current "American mood":

With the United States mired in three foreign wars, beaten down by an economy that shows few signs of emerging from deep recession and deeply disillusioned with President Barack Obama, his Republican challengers and Congress, the mood is dark.

The last comparable Fourth of July was probably in 1980, when there was a recession, skyrocketing petrol prices and an Iranian hostage crisis, with 53 Americans being held in Tehran.

Frank Luntz, perhaps America’s pre-eminent pollster, argues that his countrymen are much more downbeat now than in 1980. “The assumption with the Carter years was that it was a failure of the elites, not the system. We thought the people in charge screwed up. We didn’t blame ourselves.” Remarkably, many Americans think things will only get worse and the good times will never return.

A recent New York Times/CBS poll found that 39 per cent think that “the current economic downturn is part of a long-term permanent decline and the economy will never fully recover”. That was up from 28 per cent last October. Last month, a CNN poll found that 48 per cent of Americans believe another Great Depression is somewhat or very likely.

Luntz has found that 44 per cent of Americans believe their country’s best days are in the past, 57 per cent that their children will not achieve the same quality of life, and 53 per cent that they are less free than five years ago. So what is going on? How did the land of the free, the home of the brave, … get into this funk?

Moods are cyclical, and people are cynical. There is nothing particularly newsworthy about that, nor this article. One paragraph further down did catch my eye, though, and has a ring of truth to it:

But Americans do not just blame Obama; and the national malaise is to do with far more than one president. “Every institution in America has gone through a collapse,” says Luntz. “The Church is not what it was, thanks to all those religious scandals, the media is much less trusted today than it was 20 or 30 years ago. Big business does not have credibility.”

It does strike me that we as a people have lost some faith in our institutions - government, church, and corporatism. This faith crisis goes beyond the notable scandals involving individuals within these institutions. People are fallible, and while we all know that, we still expect people to respect the processes and the rules that enable society's institutions to function. When the process is ignored, or bypassed, or otherwise unenforced, we lose trust. Trust lost is rarely regained. What may be happening now, however, it something far more systemic and as such, existentially serious.

In a must-read piece at Defining Ideas, William Damon writes of a serious decline in academic proficiency in the subject of civics. Students are being groomed to be "citizens of the world," rather than girding them with the fundamentals of a free society and the functions of American citizenship and the institutions we've celebrated for 200 years.

For the past ten years or more, virtually every glimpse into American students' views on citizenship has revealed both a lack of understanding and a lack of interest. An American Enterprise Institute study earlier this year found that most social studies teachers doubted that their students grasped core U.S. citizenship concepts such as the Bill of Rights or the separation of powers. A recent Department of Education study found that only nine percent of U.S. high school students are able to cite reasons why it is important for citizens to participate in a democracy, and only six percent are able to identify reasons why having a constitution benefits a country. The Center for Information and Research on Civic Learning and Engagement (CIRCLE) has reported a decades-long, step-wise decline in interest in political affairs among college freshmen—from over 60 percent of the population in 1966 to less than half that percentage in our current period.

But the problem goes beyond apparent deficiencies in curriculum or general disinterest:

Beyond not knowing what U.S. citizenship entails, many young Americans today are not motivated to learn about how to become a fully engaged citizen of their country. They simply do not care about their status as American citizens. Notions such as civic virtue, civic duty, or devotion to their country mean little to them. This is not true of all young people today—there are exceptions in virtually every community—but it accurately describes a growing trend that encompasses a large portion of our younger generation.

This trend has not arisen in isolation. Indeed, the attitudes of many young Americans are closely aligned with intellectual positions that they likely have never encountered first-hand. In our leading intellectual and educational circles, the entire notion of national devotion is now in dispute. For example, in a book about the future of citizenship, a law professor recently wrote: "Longstanding notions of democratic citizenship are becoming obsolete …American identity is unsustainable in the face of globalization." As a replacement for commitment to a nation-state, the author wrote, "loyalties…are moving to transnational communities defined by many different ways: by race, ethnicity, gender, religion, age, and sexual orientation." In similar fashion, many influential educators are turning to "cosmopolitanism" and "global citizenship" as the proper aim of civics instruction, de-emphasizing the attachment to any particular country such as the United States. As global citizens, it is argued, our primary identification should be with the humanity of the world, and our primary obligation should be to the universal ideals of human rights and justice. Devotion to one's own nation state, commonly referred to as patriotism, is suspect because it may turn into a militant chauvinism or a dangerous "my country right or wrong" perspective.

Moods are largely emotional responses to our perceptions of our circumstances. Sometimes, those perceptions are on the mark; other times, they fall victim to a skewed perspective. In time, the national mood may very well swing back to a more positive and optimistic posture. The greater danger, however, is any further deterioration in the operational and philosophical understanding of the democratic institutions that have enabled us to survive as a largely free society for 235 years. If the upcoming generations lack both faith and knowledge, the decline of America as we know it will become a self-fulfilling prophecy. Future generations may well find an America that resembles the chains our forefathers cast off, leading them to form a new government.

Human history is full of such cycles. Moods change. Values change. Circumstances change. And despite the general tone of this post, far be it from me to even suggest that America is already lost. Far from it. The face of America may change, but the unalienable rights we share - the heart of the American idea - still beats within us. The future hasn't been written yet, and it is within us to shape the trends, if we have the will to do so.

We celebrate today, and that's as it should be. May we also remember why.

The Perilous Pitfalls of Expectation Management

Sometimes, you can do everything exactly the way you planned and the way you promised, and still find yourself wondering how on earth you managed to fail. Such is life in the world of software development, where you can succeed in everything and still fall short of expectations.

We had a demonstration today for a preliminary (alpha) capability that was not intended to be flashy, but rather a functional presentation of a live system - not canned, phony or mocked up. We articulated 6 weeks ago what we would be able to deliver, and those objectives were accepted by the client. Our developers worked hard to meet these objectives, and met them well. For where we are in the development lifecycle, we are on track, on schedule, and under budget.

But perilous are the pitfalls of expectation management. For despite delivering exactly what we said we would, and what was agreed to, the client was severely dissatisfied with the product. Apparently, they were hoping for something more canned and more conceptual, even if less functional. Somehow, we failed to properly set and manage expectations.

Today, we'll live with the disappointment. Tomorrow, we'll put it aside and get back to work. Our plan and our approach are sound. Nevertheless, I'll have to take into account the need to repair the perception that was laid bare today.

My job is to ensure that our product meets requirements and delivers a needed capability. My job is also to make sure that the client is fully satisfied with the result. I'm not used to this kind of failure, and it doesn't sit well despite knowing I couldn't have done anything more to prevent it.

My approach to managing expectations usually equates to this: say what you are going to do, do it, and do it well. Do this, and the result should be positive. Apparently today, that approach was insufficient.

Ah well. Best thing to do is to go home, kiss my wife and hug my kids, and leave the disappointment at the office. We'll get back to work tomorrow.

Overcoming Inertia, or Carving Out Room for Reflection

One of the drawbacks to taking even an abbreviated respite from writing is having to overcome the resulting inertia. I find myself sitting at the computer, fingertips poised above the keys, eyes staring off into space all the while wondering what to write. There is nothing wrong with taking a break, of course, nor is there any rule that says I must write and post at any particular frequency. But I've enjoyed the last two years of blogging, and would like to continue.

It would be easy, in a way, to simply comment on the news of the day or to expound upon meanings and mysteries for which I still seek wisdom and understanding. Indeed, when I find myself searching for a topic, I will often hit the internet, looking for something that catches my eye. Lately, there hasn't been much that offers fresh soil for cultivation. Besides, I'm in a mode where what stimulates me is not the bounty of information available at the click of a mouse, but rather the simplicity of a quiet moment - unplugged, but not necessarily unconnected.

I know I touch on such themes from time to time. I read an article a while back commenting on the impact of information overload on our ability to think (emphasis mine):

While the Internet has enormous benefits in delivering incredible amounts of information at incredible speed, it's also a distracting and interruption-rich environment.

Carr said it encourages quick shifts in focus -- and discourages sustained attention and the ability to think deeply and creatively about one topic and to challenge conventional wisdom.

Popularity-driven search engines, in one of the ironies of an information-rich Internet, worsen the problem by leading everyone to the same sources, he said.

Social networks, while pleasurable and fun, increase distractedness by bombarding users with brief bits of information.

"We take in so much information so quickly that we are in a constant state of cognitive overload," Carr argued.

"Multitasking erodes cognitive control. We lose our ability to say that this is important, this is unimportant. All we want is new information."

In contrast, when readers open a printed book, "there's nothing else going on except words on a page, no distractions. It helps train us to be deep thinkers."

The older I get, the more aware I become of just how limited our time and our resources truly are. I'm finding that I'm seeking more than basic awareness, however. I do not merely want to know about things; I want to understand, and I want to deepen that understanding. I seek formation - not merely information. I also seek revelation, that flash of insight that illuminates the puzzle pieces of our experience and begets the transformation of our inner being. Is that too transcendental? Too metaphysical? Perhaps so, but I believe the point I'm trying to make is that the pursuit of wisdom is lifelong, and worthy of effort.

The irony, of course, is that the formation I pursue leads to a place that is already known. At least in part. To know fully, the journey must continue. The summit of wisdom is bound to reveal the splendor that is the simplicity of being, the simplicity of our being.

Perhaps the writer of Ecclesiastes was right when he lamented "Everything is meaningless, a chasing after the wind." He spoke this with regard to many endeavors, including the pursuit of wisdom. But he also suggests that even if it is meaningless, the pursuit is better than the alternative. As songwriter Steven Curtis Chapman once penned, "there is more to this life than living and dying, more than just trying to make it through the day."

A key for me is to be intentional about carving out time and space for formative reflection, which itself requires a change in inertia. Indeed, what value is it to be always in motion, but never moving? Always consuming, but never growing?

40

Well, it's here. 40. With apologies to Jim Davis, the following just about sums it up:


Although, after further consideration, given this year's medical adventure and the tornado outbreak, among other potential calamities, being 40 today is not so bad. I think I could almost even be happy about it. Almost.

Happy birthday to me. I'll try not to let it ruin my day. :-)

Getting Away

I know my blogging has been light of late, but unfortunately that may be a trend that continues for the next few weeks. I will however, try to show some signs of life as the opportunity presents itself.

I'm getting away this weekend, away from the pressing pace of proposals and progress that frequently threaten to overwhelm me. Although it won't be the solitude I need, the weekend trek to a Boy Scout canoe base camp in the company of my son's troop will serve as a sufficient respite from office politics and personalities. Summer camping by the river will be hot, muggy and buggy I'm sure. But the mental image of being on the water, hearing its gentle slap against the side of the craft … man, I need that. I grew up taking annual vacations to the lake. Those years, those memories are so long ago.

I remember the first time I got in a canoe without an adult. I'm not sure exactly how old I was, but I remember it well. I was paddling from the fore, with my cousin manning the aft. Somewhere between the dock and the small island several hundred yards out from shore, I noticed it was getting much harder to move the craft. At that moment, my cousin announced, "I have the paddle in the perfect steering position." At which point I uttered some teenage expletive about him needing to paddle the boat. Still, the thrill and the peace of being out on the water - I cannot begin to tell you how much I miss that, how much I need that.

It'll be back to the grind on Monday. But between now and then, perhaps there will be a slice of heaven.

Spirit Stays Silent

The last few weeks have been insanely busy, and therefore finding time and energy to sit down and write has been rather difficult. Between pressing proposals, the kickoff of a major project (with another on the way), all the while working feverishly at home to finish my bonus room before carpet shows up tomorrow, I'm just plain wiped out. I have competing dreams at night; I'm either lost in a maze of proposal paperwork and project requirements, or I'm painting painting painting. In real life, I'm down to the second coat on a couple of doors, and polyurethane on one handrail. The only thing about finishing a room yourself, when you have a personality like mine, is that you know exactly where all the mistakes are, and where all the flaws that others might miss lurk silently, taunting. Others might not see them, but because I made them, I know there are there and that they are out to get me. It makes it tough to enjoy the fruit of a job pretty well done.

So what's happened lately? Well, the Bulls blew it. As good as they may have been in the regular season, when the game is on the line in the playoffs, they clearly lack a "closer," someone who knows how to withstand the rallies, keep the team focused, and deny the opposition the comeback. LeBron is that type of player, despite his lack of previous playoff success. The Bulls need that one component that never gets the deer-in-the-headlights look.

I guess the other thing that caught my interest was the announcement that NASA is giving up on the Mars Rover known as Spirit. I wrote about Spirit here. Designed for a 3-month mission, Spirit lasted more than 6 years before going silent for the past year. With such a record of overachievement, it's easy to humanize the rovers, especially when they serve as a window to a frontier we cannot yet see with our own eyes or touch with our own feet. It's a sad ending:

Shortly after midnight, NASA sent one last plea to the silent rover Spirit, mired in a sand trap on the surface of Mars.

Please phone home.

With that, the space agency ended its efforts Wednesday to contact the workhorse robot geologist, which has been unresponsive for more than a year. Rather than spend time and money hanging onto faint hope, mission managers decided to turn their focus on Spirit's healthy twin Opportunity and prepare for the upcoming launch of the next Mars mega-rover.

The pursuit of knowledge will go forward, and Opportunity continues to roll. Well done, Spirit, and thanks.

It is My Honor to Remember

"I have no illusions about what little I can add now to the silent testimony of those who gave their lives willingly for their country. Words are even more feeble on this Memorial Day, for the sight before us is that of a strong and good nation that stands in silence and remembers those who were loved and who, in return, loved their countrymen enough to die for them.

Yet, we must try to honor them — not for their sakes alone, but for our own. And if words cannot repay the debt we owe these men, surely with our actions we must strive to keep faith with them and with the vision that led them to battle and to final sacrifice."

Remarks at Memorial Day Ceremonies at Arlington National Cemetery, May 31, 1982
-- President Ronald Reagan

Covenant Stone

This Sunday marks the final worship service for Chase Valley Church. For the next two months, the parking lot on Sunday mornings will be empty, the building dark. Come August, Cove Church@Chase will launch on the 28 acres bequeathed to it by the former ministry.

Despite my best attempts to put on a happy face, I find myself grieving, and looking to Sunday with not a little dread. Obviously not the right frame of heart for approach worship, but nevertheless, the emotion is real.

Several years ago, we as a church body entered a season called 40 Days of Purpose, during which we were encouraged as leaders and as a body to commit ourselves to prayer, small groups and ministry with the goal of "Crossing Jordan." The idea of "Crossing Jordan" was in part founded on the passage in Joshua 4:1-9. During a leadership retreat just prior to this time, a number of us leaders were invited to select from a pile of large, smooth riverbed stones. These stones, one per leader, were to be kept for a period of time until one day, we as a church crossed over into the next phase of our ministry (likely the next tier of numerical and spiritual growth). In that appointed time, we would return with the stones to set up an altar, a memorial, as a testimony to the work of the Lord in our midst, to the furtherance of His Kingdom in the hearts of our community, our city, and beyond. Sadly, seven years later, that stone still sits on a shelf in my garage. And by far most of those leaders who carried those covenant stones are gone.

I keep that stone, in the hopes that perhaps someday, the opportunity will come to lay down that rock as a marker to what Chase Valley was, and what Cove Church will be. But it also serves to remind me of just how easy it is to make choices that keep us wandering in the desert. That stone, and the covenant I made, takes on greater meaning for me each time I question whether it is time for us to look for a new church home. For while so many of my fellow laborers have walked away from that covenant (and despite how that might sound, I don't judge them for it), I as yet do not feel able to give up on the potential that is before us. That stone, that covenant, it anchors me. And I am grateful for it.

As Sunday approaches, I know my heart is broken. But I serve a Lord who knows how to mend a broken heart and make it new. It is that hope, that promise, on which I will stand.

Dim Bulbs

We interrupt this blog to bring you a somewhat uncharacteristic hissy fit. While it has raised my ire from time to time over the last couple of years, the entire movement to ban the traditional incandescent light bulb continues apace as we approach the time of its permanent dissolution. Pushed by a Democratic Congress and signed by a Republican president in 2007, this silly idea that we have to have energy efficient light bulbs in our homes to save the planet illuminates to me that our policy makers are a bunch of dim bulbs.

Those little swirly compact fluorescents cost too much, are toxic if they break, and generally do a poor job of lighting up a room. Light from the "energy inefficient" traditional bulbs (the horror!) is far easier on the eyes and has served us well for decades upon decades. Now of course, there is a trend toward LED-based lights, a technology far better suited for blinky lights on computers and gadgets than for room illumination. Yes, LED flashlights and camping lamps aren't too bad, but if you've ever been nearly blinded by blue LED headlights while driving down a dark road, then you know why I'm not a fan.

But industry, trying to figure out how to adhere to silly government over-regulation of your bedside lamp, has come up with an LED light bulb to replace "energy guzzling" (roll eyes here) traditional light bulbs. But here's the catch: at the moment, a single one of these bulbs costs a freakin' $50!! 50 bucks! For a light bulb! From the article (emphasis mine):

Two leading makers of lighting products are showcasing LED bulbs that are bright enough to replace energy-guzzling 100-watt light bulbs set to disappear from stores in January.

Their demonstrations at the LightFair trade show in Philadelphia this week mean that brighter LED bulbs will likely go on sale next year, but after a government ban takes effect.

The new bulbs will also be expensive — about $50 each — so the development may not prevent consumers from hoarding traditional bulbs.

Ya think? Count me among those who are officially going into the hoarding business. Traditional light bulbs are getting harder to find, and the price is going up. Nevertheless, I'll be taking inventory of the types of bulbs I need around the house, and will be making periodic purchases to push out the date of transition as far as possible.

50 dollars, for a light bulb? This is the cost of over-regulation. Too save a few cents on the dollar of "energy inefficiency," we're going to have to shell out budget-busting dollars for an "innovation" that hasn't even been perfected yet. Forgive the invective, but this is stupid. And let's not even get into the energy required to mass produce complicated and unproven bulbs.

But, unless the "lights come on" in the halls of government, this is the future being imposed upon us. And in case you missed it, I take a rather dim view of the whole business.

McDonalds and the Future of Fast Food Service

Last week I was having a conversation with some colleagues about the future of application development in a cloud-computing enterprise model (yes, I really have conversations like these - not that I fully understand it all), when one of these colleagues noted that fast food restaurants across the country were utilizing centralized call centers to handle remote drive thru communication. At the forefront of this "innovation" is McDonald's. And what do you know, after a quick trip down the Google highway, I found out that this has been in place for at least 5 years. Basically, when you pull up to the drive thru at McDonald's, you can no longer assume that the person you are speaking to is inside the building. More likely, they are in some cubicle in some facility hundreds of miles away.

I admit, it is hard to fathom that the person I'm talking to at the drive thru squawk box in not inside the restaurant. It's just outside my frame of reference. But of course, I don't know if the McDonalds in my area utilize call centers. But if the model is successful, no doubt they will be someday soon. They just better hope the power, phone and internet lines never go dark. But that hardly ever happens, right?

McDonald's isn't done innovating (and reducing its store workforce footprint). In Europe, the company is introducing self-service kiosks (touchscreens and swipe card readers) into its stores. How this works for people paying cash, I'm not sure. I imagine they'll set up a "cash only" line or something. Nevertheless, there will be fewer cashiers because you will be able to walk up to the counter, punch in your own order, and swipe your credit card. It is only a matter of time before this kind of "customer service" crosses the pond and transforms our American fast food service. Because if it works for McDonald's, you know the competition will follow suit.

In terms of the cost of doing business, the increasing use of self-service touch screens and call centers may very well be better for the bottom line. But if you are a teenager looking for employment, chances are there will be fewer and fewer food service opportunities, at least in the fast food market. Unless, of course, you just want to cook or take out the trash. Jobs requiring people skills, or jobs offering the opportunity to develop said skills, will become few and far between.

This reality aside, I have to confess that I'm not entirely opposed to the transformation. When I travel, I far prefer being able to largely check myself in for my flights using self-service kiosks. And let's face it, isn't this really just an extension of the bank ATM model?

One thing is certain, however. The further away we get from doing business with people face-to-face, the less 'real' they may become to us. Socially, what is the cost of convenience? Stunted growth? Isolation? The inability to discern reality from technology?

Life is looking more and more like the Matrix all the time. But I'll adjust - as long as they get my order right.

Running of the Bulls?

Baseball is my game, and as far as sports are concerned, my first love. Football follows at a distant second. Now and then, I enjoy watching a basketball game, but despite the fact that I even played a little junior varsity ball (and not very well), it doesn't rank high on my TV priority list these days.

This wasn't always the case though. Being the Chicago-boy that I am, I followed the Bulls pretty closely throughout the 90's. The two three-peats, the 72-10 regular season (1995-1996), and the casts that included (in no particular order) Michael Jordan, Scottie Pippen, Steve Kerr, BJ Armstrong, Luc Longley, John Paxson, and Dennis Rodman - all somehow melded together under coach Phil Jackson. Those were fun years to watch.

Since the breakup of the Bulls dynasty in 1998, however, I simply lost interest in the NBA. Something happened as the next generation took the court, and I'm not sure I can explain it. The game as it was played in the era of Magic Johnson, Larry Bird, Kevin McHale, David Robinson, Jordan, Pippen, Malone, Stockton, Olajuwon, and others is just not the same as the game today.

Now the Bulls are back in the Eastern Conference finals, the first time they've made it this far since the end of the dynasty. I may have to take a peek, if only out of curiosity, to see if this incarnation of the Bulls can continue their run to the NBA finals. On a side note, despite my respect for Phil Jackson, I was rather pleased to see the Lakers get swept out of the playoffs by the Mavericks.

Still, I find myself nostalgic for the old days. Days when I could plop down in front of the tube, and take in the spectacle of the pre-game introduction, knowing that good basketball was just moments away:


Now THAT was a team. We'll see if these new guys can make a claim of their own, and bring another championship back to Chicago.

An Editorial I Actually Agree With

I don't often agree with the editorials in the Huntsville Times, but the one in today's paper has my full-throated support:

Thank you, North Alabama.

Countless acts of selflessness and volunteerism have allowed us all to begin recovering from the April 27 tornadoes. It was our community at its best: Neighbor helping neighbor, churches organizing relief, and all of us doing what we can, from obeying the curfew to giving time or supplies.

It's been said throughout the process that our response will define us.

We have risen to the challenge and set a new bar for how our entire region can pull together in the face of so much damage and suffering.

I add my voice to those expressing thanks. Read the whole thing.

Forcing Political Disclosure as Condition for Federal Bidding?

Of late, I have intentionally avoided posting much about politics, primarily because of the fatigue it seems to generate with every attempt to generate outrageous outrage. But there is a story in the Wall Street Journal today that may warrant a little attention. Normally, I wouldn't want to preemptively overreact to something that hasn't happened yet, but I find this concerning enough to comment:

President Obama has officially kicked off his 2012 re-election campaign, and don't Republicans know it. The president is expected any day now to sign an executive order that routs 70 years of efforts to get politics out of official federal business.

Under the order, all companies (and their officers) would be required to list their political donations as a condition to bidding for government contracts.

On the surface, that doesn't sound so bad, does it? Isn't disclosure a good thing for someone going after taxpayer dollars? Political contributions are protected by the First Amendment, although highly regulated. Shouldn't contractors who received funding from the federal government disclose any contributions that might shed light on any special treatment or earmarks they receive? Right now, the way this disclosure usually happens is through FEC regulations that require elected officials to disclose the contributions they receive. Now, however, the President is proposing an Executive Order that makes this disclosure a condition of the bid for contracts. Which in turn, gives the Government the inherent authority - or at least opportunity - to steer contracts away from companies based on the politics of their officers, as opposed to just assessing the organization's ability to fulfill the terms of the contract through the competitive bidding process. On the flip side, the Government could "reward" companies that contribute to the "right" party. Steering contracts based on political favors is an icky business, and when caught often results in scandal, if not prosecution. So, again, why not protect the taxpayer by requiring disclosure? Well, in this case, the presumptive EO doesn't apply to everybody who receives Government funding:

The draft order, which came out last month, would require federal bidders to supply a complete list of all political contributions made by the company, its political action committee, and its senior executives—going back two full years. (Richard Nixon would be impressed.) More astounding, the order requires the list to include donations made to third-party political groups—disclosure that is not currently required by law, and that is, as a result, surely unconstitutional.

Ever audacious, the White House is spinning this as "reform," claiming taxpayers deserve to know how federal dollars being paid to contractors are being spent in campaigns. This might hold (a drop of) water if the executive order also required all the (liberal) entities that get billions in taxpayer dollars via federal grants and funding—unions, environmental groups, Planned Parenthood—to disclose also. It doesn't.

Ah, and therein lies the rub. If you can ask "Why not require contractors to disclose their political contributions before receiving contract awards?" then you should also be asking, "Why not require unions, environmental groups, arts groups, Planned Parenthood and a host of other organizations that receive Government funding to disclose their political contributions?" The proposed Executive Order isn't reform - it is targeted to discourage businesses from contributing at all, or at least, make it easier to identify "favorites" based on politics instead of capability. If you want true reform, apply it to everybody, push it through the legislative process instead of EO regulation, and see if it can stand up in court.

It has taken decades to create a federal contracting system based on "best prices, best value, best quality," Ms. [Susan] Collins says, and the effect of the Obama order is to again have "politics play a role in determining who gets contracts." Companies may choose not to bid, which will reduce competition and raise government costs. And the order puts "thousands of civil servants" who oversee contracting "in an impossible situation."

Of course, this will impact Democrat office holders as well, especially those in districts that are home to contractors, and will undoubtedly hurt their campaigns as well. Here's another interesting point that I take from the WSJ article: The reason the administration is pursuing this through Executive Order is that even when the Democrats controlled Congress, they couldn't push the Disclose Act through (which would have had a similar effect as the proposed EO). Why is the administration intent on going around Congress to interfere with the contracting and acquisition processes?

I'll leave that to you to figure out.

Soarin'

On the way to school this morning, my boys asked if we could listen to one of the Disney park soundtracks. I acquiesced, and soon found myself completely lost in the track from Soarin'. How often I wish to fly above it all, to escape the surly bonds of earth, to clear my head and my vision. Today, if only for four minutes, I was able to soar and still keep my eyes on the road. I can't really explain it to you, other than to say the music fits the experience. A momentary respite, but a good one nonetheless.

Soarin\' Theme Music MP3 Download

When the Lights Came Back On

One week after a history-making outbreak of severe thunderstorms and tornados wreaked havoc throughout the south, the lights finally came on Tuesday for most of the northern counties of Alabama. The cable networks, including the Weather Channel, focused (albeit deservedly) on Tuscaloosa and Birmingham, so in more ways than one North Alabama was left in the dark. Officials are still assessing damage, and the death toll count for our state finally appears to be slowing (236, but with scores still listed as missing). Total loss of life across the south is at least 330. Forty-one of Alabama's 67 counties have been declared disaster areas.

My family was fortunate. Whereas there is devastation in abundance within a mile or two in any direction, we fared pretty well. While many had their lives and homes uprooted with every toppled tree, we only had to deal with the relative inconvenience of a 6+ day power outage. While we had to navigate roads strewn with snapped power lines, dodging these and other obstacles while in search of supplies, others are picking over piles of rubble in search of their memories. We try to do our part, helping neighbors as we can, patching a roof to prevent further water damage (that was fun), checking in on family and cleaning up debris. But at the end of the day, you come home to lanterns, cold water showers and peanut-butter sandwiches. And we never were so thankful for the simple blessings.

It was surreal. The night sky was never so full of stars. And we adjusted, more so as the days wore on. We slept well, being governed not by clocks and alarms, but by the rising and setting sun. Our connection to the outside world was through a radio whose batteries lasted far longer than we expected. We heard about Osama bin Laden, but honestly that news felt anti-climactic and out of place. It's a different world in the dark, I guess. There was a certain relief in being detached from the outside world. We were surviving just fine, and managed to keep the perspective of just how fortunate we were.

You'd think that we would be overjoyed when the lights came back on, and we were. It meant hot showers, and a return to "normalcy." Yet I found the experience once again, surreal. We had connected with something, during our days in the dark. Was it simplicity? Was it real community, the kind that doesn't involve monitors and networks and electrons? I don't know. But whatever that something was, I fear that it will be lost as our lives return to what they were before the storms. I know it seems heedless and unappreciative given the suffering around us, but I think I will miss some of what we found this past week. The simplicity, the community, the surviving. We truly live very privileged lives, full of ease and convenience. For a few days, maybe we got a taste of what we're actually missing, even to our detriment.

But enough navel gazing. There are those still in real need, suffering real loss, and work to be done to help, in whatever ways we can. May the recovery come speedily.

And on the 7th day ...

The utility company saith, "Let there be lights!" And as the power coursed through electrical veins, a cry of relief broke out from those who had been without.

When I uploaded the post below last Wednesday, little did I know just how hard nature would kick us. It apparently was the second deadliest tornado outbreak in U.S. history, and our state took the brunt. I see no need to post a bunch of links, but if you peruse al.com (the Huntsville version), you can find picture and video galleries to satisfy whatever interest you may have in the storms that hit our community. Just know that while the Weather Channel and the big news networks have deservedly focused on Birmingham and Tuscaloosa, the northern counties got hit just as hard, including an EF-4 that slammed an area just to the northwest of Huntsville. Here on the northeast side, we are still waiting for the official designation of the storms that uprooted trees, damaged homes and left power lines strewn all over the roads within a few mile radius of my house. There are areas of devastation all across the northern counties, including a Boy Scout camp my son frequents.

Still, I remain amazed at how fortunate and blessed we are, as we have only had to suffer the relatively minor inconvenience of no power and no hot water for over 6 days. Far too many have had their lives turned upside down with loss of home and loved ones.

The power may be back on for now, but the reminders will be with us for a while. A very long while. But the recovery has begun.

Another Weather Adventure

Sometimes, it seems like we have a "kick-me" sign taped to our proverbial backs:


As bad as it has been around here in a while. And it won't be over until later tonight.

Easter Praise

Admittedly, Carrie Underwood is not my usual cup of tea. Yet as I watched the video below through teary eyes, I could not help but notice the crowd coming to its feet during the final chorus of this most powerful hymn. People rise with some perhaps not even knowing why. It seems that wherever and whenever it is sung, if it is sung well, an atmosphere of worship breaks out. The hymn has a deep resonance with me, for a variety of personal reasons. On this magnificent Easter morning, I pray that we may all stand in awe of the Lord our God: How Great Thou Art!



(h/t): Gus Marvinson

A Day of Joy

I have been trying all day to put together the words to best express what's in my heart, and remarkably, I find myself unable to turn the phrase. I have some thoughts, but they are for my son, and my son alone.

So I'll let the pictures below speak for themselves. On this Palm Sunday, my oldest son, of his own accord and at a time of his own choosing, made a public profession of faith and was baptized. While he has seemingly carried an inner light and understanding regarding the Truth for several years, a few months ago he made his decision, to my great joy. And I am, indeed, rejoicing!







"I have no greater joy than this, to hear of my children walking in the truth." (3 John 1:4)

"… and though you have not seen Him, you love Him, and though you do not see Him now, but believe in Him, you greatly rejoice with joy inexpressible and fully of glory, …" (1 Peter 1:8)

The Coming Reboot

In recent years, movies and television have been filled with quite a number of "reboots." A reboot goes beyond the typical "remake" of a classic movie or show. Instead, the reboot is a complete refresh on a franchise or a character or a storyline. ABC's "V" is a reboot of the campy '80s miniseries. Smallville was a reboot of the Superman franchise. How many versions of Batman have hit the big screen? My favorite reboot, however, was the reinvigoration of the Star Trek franchise at the hands of J.J. Abrams.

I was an ardent fan of the original Star Trek series (TOS) and its movies. When Star Trek: The Next Generation (TNG) came out, I was a slow adopter, only buying in when the Borg entered the storyline. With the TNG universe, we got DS9 and Voyager, which I also enjoyed. Paramount tried yet another series (Enterprise), but cancelled it when it finally started to get interesting. But note that all of these series existed within the same universe, as it were.

Abrams reboot of the franchise with 2009's Star Trek, while tapping the same characters as TOS, changed the dynamics of the story by the application of a difference perspective, almost a counterfactual exercise: "what if" these characters had developed differently due to different life experiences? I remember being quite skeptical about this new look, not sure I'd like the suggested changes to the Star Trek "canon." To my surprise, the movie is by far my favorite of them all (with a place of honor still reserved for The Wrath of Khan). Abrams succeeded, despite the pained efforts to explain the changes and maintain continuity with TOS. Star Trek (2009) is a reboot - same people, but with different perspectives, different relationships, and an unwritten future. And now for the segue….

The same people, with different perspectives, different relationships and an unwritten future. This is the state of the church I've called home for the last 17 years. By June of this year, Chase Valley Church will cease to exist, its current membership and properties becoming a satellite of Cove Church. I won't go into all the reasons for this, but suffice it to say that the merger is in the best interests of continuing ministry in our particular location. I've struggled for an appropriate analogy or metaphor to describe this moment, and for now I'm going with the reboot - same people, different perspectives, different relationships and an unwritten future.

From our early days in storefront facilities, to the construction of our building on 28 acres of land, to dynamic statistical and spiritual growth, to a dramatic diaspora and decline, only a handful of us are left who span the relatively short life of the church. We have seen many people come, and many people go. We have witnessed the transformative work of God in our midst, touching and changing the lives of many. We have also suffered through pain, scandal, and the turmoil of disunity. These are experiences we will forever carry with us, with memories that deserve to be treasured and stories that need to be told and retold, and hard lessons to remember. It is a fortunate thing that eternity is forever, so that who we are (or were) will perhaps be remembered in the Light of the things that truly matter.

But we are still here. We are the same people, viewing almost 20 years of ministry in the rear view mirror, faced with envisioning the church with a different perspective, developing a new and different set of relationships both to the institutional parent church and to individuals under whose authority we will now serve. For some, this change will be too difficult to take, and they will probably leave. But there will be many who will, although perhaps with some trepidation, step into this new world and embrace the opportunity of an unwritten future. Because in the end, it is not about institutions, territory and control. I have asked myself frequently whether I'm up for the reboot. I will admit to a certain sadness over our state, and I confess I'm grieving over the potential loss of who we are (or were). But then again, some of that sense of "self" left with those that walked out the door years ago. But here I catch myself, remembering that it's about furthering the Kingdom of God where we are and where we can. Our identity is not found in Chase Valley, nor will it be found in Cove. Our identity is in Jesus Christ. To take any other perspective would be detrimental to us and to our ministry.

As I said, there are stories to tell, and perhaps over the next few months, I'll share some of those, if appropriate. Until then, I'll choose to look forward toward that unwritten future in the life of our church, knowing that in a very real sense, the future has already been written by He who stands both inside and outside of time. The raging waters of change will undoubtedly be choppy, but with faith, they are navigable. This reboot of our church can be a good thing, and reinvigorating to our purpose as followers of Christ. That is my hope, anyway, and my prayer.

Finally, A Serious Budget Proposal?

It is no secret to those who know me that I lean very much to the conservative side of the political aisle. I have not hidden that fact on this blog, although I do try to keep my political commentary in the realm of the respectful. Last July, I lambasted Congress for their decision not to produce a budget for FY11. I viewed that failure, which has led to today's threat of a government shutdown (which may very well affect me), as a derelication of their Constitutional duty. For years, for whatever reason, the political class has lacked the courage to seriously engage the looming financial crisis facing this nation in the form of unfunded liabilities. The mounting debt and the increasing deficit is a true disaster waiting to happen. And contrary to statements that have been made in the past year or so by the current administration, I do not believe you can "spend" yourself into prosperity. Sound investments, fiscal discipline, and sensible budgeting based on reasonable projected revenues - these are some of the components of good financial planning, be you individual, business or government.

Paul Ryan, chairman of the House Budget Committee, has released the GOP budget plan for FY12 (again, something the Democrats couldn't bring themselves to do last year when they controlled the House). According to his opinion piece in the Wall Street Journal, this proposal will cut $6.2 trillion in spending from the President's budget over 10 years, and in that same period will reduce the deficit by $4.4 trillion. Read the article for a hint at how this will be accomplished (I'd like to read the plan myself before trying to expound on it in any serious way).

Look, I don't know whether this is the right plan, and I don't have the expertise to judge its merit on the fine print details. What I do know is that in a debt and deficit crisis of this magnitude, we can't argue over billions - we have to argue over TRILLIONS. And this is the first serious budget proposal that attempts to address the problem in the proper context. That is, everything is on the table for discussion - in particular entitlements that we simply cannot afford, unless we dramatically raise taxes and thereby endanger an already fragile economy. Predictably, the former Speaker of the House Nancy Pelosi has already fired off the first "Republicans are mean" salvo. And don't get me started about her use (or misuse) of Scripture, as she quotes it in the video, as justification for Government action. Expect to hear more of it though, in the days ahead.

Below is an interesting video, featuring Paul Ryan. Obviously, it's a sales pitch, but it is not a bad one. If nothing else, the budget he's putting on the table represents - finally - a serious attempt to address a serious problem. It remains to be seen whether the rest of the political class (both parties) in Washington is willing to engage this on a serious level. Color me skeptical.

Fools aren't always those who rush in

In 1711, the English writer Alexander Pope saw published his poetic Essay on Criticism, a long but often delicious piece of commentary on the nature of criticism - and critics - and the value (and failings) thereof. It has been far too many years since I engaged in any form of literary analysis, and even if I had the time, the practice would find my skills and intellect woefully inadequate to the task. Pope's essay is likely unknown to many, as the study of classical literature has fallen to elective status (at best) in our curriculums. Nevertheless, you are likely familiar with its most quotable phrases:

"A little Learning is a dang'rous Thing/Drink deep, or taste not the Pierian Spring:"

"Whoever thinks a faultless piece to see/Thinks what ne'er was, nor is, nor e'er shall be."

"To err is Humane; to Forgive, Divine." (often quoted as "To err is human …")

"All seems Infected that th'Infected spy/As all looks yellow to the Jaundic'd Eye."

"For Fools rush in where Angels fear to tread."

Another quote I like:

"True ease in writing comes from art, not chance/As those move easiest who have learned to dance"

"For Fools rush in …." Three hundred years later the phrase remains lodged in our cultural lexicon. And apart from its proper context, the common meaning and usage seems to generally convey the idea that insufficiently intelligent people, lacking wisdom, rush into situations without taking measure, counting the cost, or otherwise appreciating the sanctity or value of the circumstance or moment. The antithesis, of course, is that the wise measure their words, analyze the situation, and move (if necessary) with care as opposed to haste. In Pope's day, I wonder if the term "fool" was more descriptive of those lacking in specific judgment or expertise, as opposed to intelligence, which in the context of the act of criticism, and of the critic as a vocation, seems to make sense. (After all, many "critics" are far from experts in the matters and people they criticize).

Nevertheless, I find myself wondering today if the maxim (apart from context) is always true. For instance, in the New Testament, you have the rich young ruler who walks away from Jesus, the countless in the crowd who despite seeing the wonders and hearing the teaching of the Christ, turned away. Contrast this with the parables of the Kingdom of God, as reflected in the metaphors of a field with hidden treasure and the pearl of great price. Or the children who rushed to Jesus, or the impulse of the woman who poured out a jar of perfume upon Jesus' feet. Food for thought, I guess.

In my own journey through this life, I find in myself that tendency to overanalyze a moment, to overlook the simplicity of a simple truth, to introduce complexity that needlessly complicates the matter. Sometimes, there are benefits to the examination. Yet many times, there is a cost as well, most often measured in the loss of joy in the moment, and of course, time.

Self-control (and the wisdom it can beget) is a virtue worth pursuing. But control that results in a fist clenched so tightly upon one's spirit (or that of another) squeezes out what joy there is to be found in this life. Who is the fool who forsakes joy in exchange for a control that doesn't even exist?

Perhaps it is not always the fool that rushes in, but rather the one who fails to grasp the value of the moment and the opportunity therein, and dawdles away the time, choosing to fabricate complexity where simple truth would and does suffice.