Benghazi Bull

I know that I shouldn't be diving into this, given that 1) I'm no expert, and 2) I've already stated an aversion to writing much about politics and current events in the present season. But if I had the inclination to spend much time on this, I think my head would probably explode. Fortunately for me, the veins in my head have been able to withstand the pressure - so far.

The basics you probably already know. A few weeks ago, on 9/11, American embassies throughout North Africa and other places came under seige by often violent protestors. Actually, this has been a fairly common occurrence in the last decade, but much more pronounced in the last couple of years since the so-called Arab Spring resulted in the overthrow of several North African governments that are now in the hands of increasingly anti-American militant Islamists.

A year ago, American forces supported or otherwise engaged in military action against Libya to overthrow Moammar Gadhafi (choose your favorite spelling if you don't like mine). I won't get into the specifics of that action right now, but the result was and continues to be a significant power vacuum. Such environments have been ideal for al Qaeda. On 9/11/2012, it appears that our Benghazi consulate came under direct fire from a terrorist attack, killing Ambassador Chris Stevens and three other Americans.

The administration - for at least two weeks, up to and including the president's speech to the UN last week - put blame on some stupid video on YouTube. Spokesperson after spokesperson came out and placed blame on a mob, supposedly incited by this video, for this act of violence. To be blunt, that's a load of bull. As the media is beginning to report, American intelligence knew within hours and days that this was a premeditated, planned attack. From Reuters (emphasis mine):

Within hours of last month's attacks on U.S. diplomatic facilities in Benghazi, Libya, President Barack Obama's administration received about a dozen intelligence reports suggesting militants connected to al Qaeda were involved, three government sources said.

Despite these reports, in public statements and private meetings, top U.S. officials spent nearly two weeks highlighting intelligence suggesting that the attacks were spontaneous protests against an anti-Muslim film, while playing down the involvement of organized militant groups.

It was not until last Friday that Director of National Intelligence James Clapper's office issued an unusual public statement, which described how the picture that intelligence agencies presented to U.S. policymakers had "evolved" into an acknowledgement that the attacks were "deliberate and organized" and "carried out by extremists."

The existence of the early reports appears to raise fresh questions about the Obama administration's public messaging about the attack as it seeks to fend off Republican charges that the White House failed to prevent a terrorist strike that left a U.S. ambassador and three others dead.

So, you'd think that following an attack on the anniversary of 9/11, and furthermore knowing that every such anniversary calls for a heightened security awareness around the globe, we'd already be well on our way to gathering evidence and identifying the perpetrators and responding as appropriate, right? Condsider this from the Washington Post (emphasis mine):

Three weeks after the attack that killed four Americans in this city, the investigation of its causes remains in its initial stages, with just a handful of suspects detained, the crime scenes minimally secured and Walid Faraj waiting for a phone call from someone, anyone, asking him what he saw on the night he was injured while protecting the U.S. diplomatic post here.

Faraj, a member of the militia that local officials tasked with securing Americans in Benghazi, said he saw the attack nearly from start to finish. But neither American nor Libyan investigators have paid him a visit, even as he fears that the perpetrators know who he is.

In Washington, a leading House Republican challenged on Tuesday the administration’s version of events on the chaotic night of Sept. 11, suggesting that the attack was planned and that congressional investigators have been told that requests for increased security at the U.S. diplomatic outpost had been turned down.

In a letter to Secretary of State Hillary Rodham Clinton, Rep. Darrell Issa (Calif.) listed incidents dating to April that he said created a pattern of threats.

Some of the incidents had been disclosed earlier, but others appeared to be new revelations. In one case, he said, Libyans working as private security guards at the U.S. compound were warned by family members in the weeks before the assault to quit their jobs because of rumors of an impending attack. He did not specify where the information originated.

“These events indicated a clear pattern of security threats that could only be reasonably interpreted to justify increased security for U.S. personnel and facilities in Benghazi,” Issa and Rep. Jason Chaffetz (R-Utah) wrote to Clinton.

Clinton assured Issa in a reply released by the State Department that the department would “work collaboratively with you to achieve the result we both want: a full and accurate accounting of the events and a path forward to prevent them from happening again.”

She said the department’s investigation will begin this week.

The State Department "will begin" an investigation this week? Pardon the language, by why the hell hasn't it already started? From Foreign Policy (emphasis mine):

Secretary of State Hillary Clinton wrote to House Oversight Committee Chairman Darrel Issa (R-CA) Tuesday afternoon to pledge the State Department's full cooperation with Congress in getting to the bottom of the Sept. 11 attack on the Benghazi consulate that killed Amb. Chris Stevens and three other Americans.

"I appreciate that you and your committee are deeply interested in finding out what happened leading up to and during the attacks in Benghazi, and are looking for ways to prevent it from happening again. I share that commitment," Clinton wrote in the letter, obtained by The Cable. "Nobody will hold this department more accountable than we hold ourselves -- we served with Chris Stevens, Sean Smith, Glen Doherty, and Tyrone Woods."

Clinton said that the State Department's Accountability Review Board will begin work this week and the letter revealed the names of all five board members. In addition to former Deputy Secretary of State Thomas Pickering, who will lead the board, the other members will be former Joint Chiefs Chairman Adm. Mike Mullen (ret.), Catherine Bertini, Hugh Turner, and Richard Shinnick.

Clinton asked Issa to withhold any final conclusions about the Benghazi attack until the review board finishes its work and reports to Congress, which could come as early as November or as late as early next year. She pledged to work with Issa's committee and asked him to submit any requests for information or witnesses at hearings to the State Department's Office of Legislative Affairs.

November? Next year?! I understand that combing through intelligence reports and after-action reports and connecting dots and so forth takes time. But there is clearly sufficient actionable intelligence to draw preliminary conclusions far faster than that. But, gosh, we have that inconvenient fact that there's an election a few weeks away. So we should wait to ask questions about how a complete security breakdown in a violent part of the world on the anniversary of the most horrific act of terrorism in our history was allowed to happen. Our response to this attack can only be described as inept, incompetent and impotent. We are projecting weakness. And in that part of the world, weakness is despised and it will be exploited, meaning the situation is more dangerous than ever.

I'm going to avoid entertaining what the appropriate response should be to those that committed this act. But I have no problem calling attention to the simple fact that this scenario should never have happened in the first place. We dropped our guard, and Americans paid the price. And no future drone attack can rectify that failure.

It's ...

It's ...

It's ...

GREEN!?

On Education Aims: Knowledge or Know-How?

Let me start this missive by saying that I am not an educator (nor do I play one on TV). This does not mean that I don't think about education and its aims, methods and denouement. Just the other day, I found myself brooding over the migration to digital methods of education. My son, for example, has a curriculum that requires the use of a school-issued iPad. While innovative methods are generally to be celebrated (provided they are effective), I have a growing unease about the inevitable and negative impact to productivity. Technology doesn't always make learning easier, and in some cases it introduces a great opportunity for distraction. But this is not a post about digital curriculums, and I don't want to belabor the point, so allow me to leave this subject be for another day.
 
As I watch my house being rebuilt before my eyes, I find myself at times just marveling at the apparent ease with which these skilled laborers and craftsmen execute their trade. I remember how long it took me as an unskilled do-it-yourselfer to simply finish off a room that had been shaped, but not completed, by a hired contractor. There are times, material considerations aside, that I envy those who excel in careers based less on degree than on the honing of a vocational skill or trade. Looking back across my life, my educational trajectory was simple: use your smarts, get good grades in high school, get the degree, go to college, get another degree, get a well-paying job and proceed on with life. The aim, although perhaps I didn't realize it at the time, was to get that well-paying desk job. Although I am a trained engineer who once worked with both hardware and software, my career now centers on my ability to think, develop concepts, communicate, and oversee those who bring my ideas to life. I can't even write software anymore. On the whole, I can accept where I am. But every now and then, I worry about never having truly learned a marketable trade. This sense was reinforced when I read the following (emphasis mine): 

In each case, I shared my theory that most of these “problems” were in fact symptoms of something more fundamental – a change in the way Americans viewed hard work and skilled labor. That’s the essence of what I’ve heard from the hundreds of men and women I’ve worked with on Dirty Jobs. Pig farmers, electricians, plumbers, bridge painters, jam makers, blacksmiths, brewers, coal miners, carpenters, crab fisherman, oil drillers…they all tell me the same thing over and over, again and again – our country has become emotionally disconnected from an essential part of our workforce. We are no longer impressed with cheap electricity, paved roads, and indoor plumbing. We take our infrastructure for granted, and the people who build it.

Today, we can see the consequences of this disconnect in any number of areas, but none is more obvious than the growing skills gap. Even as unemployment remains sky high, a whole category of vital occupations has fallen out of favor, and companies struggle to find workers with the necessary skills. The causes seem clear. We have embraced a ridiculously narrow view of education. Any kind of training or study that does not come with a four-year degree is now deemed “alternative.” Many viable careers once aspired to are now seen as “vocational consolation prizes,” and many of the jobs this current administration has tried to “create” over the last four years are the same jobs that parents and teachers actively discourage kids from pursuing. (I always thought there was something ill-fated about the promise of three million “shovel ready jobs” made to a society that no longer encourages people to pick up a shovel.)

Never mind that this letter, written by Mike Rowe, is a political letter. Rowe, who I have seen only in commercials - I have never seen his show - has hit on something here that resonates with me. Indeed, we should respect and celebrate those whose labor brings direct benefit to our standards of living. While I am not in favor of tax-payer subsidies of such industry, there is no dishonor in the pursuit of a trade-based career, and there never should be. Get the degree is the mantra of all education. But what about apprenticeship, the development of skills and craft? An easy example comes to mind: more often than not, your car is serviced by a technician, not a mechanic. A mechanic not only understands how the car works, he knows how to fix it. Technicians plug a cable into the computer in your car, get an error code, and receive a computerized set of steps to execute. Again, not to belittle the modern auto technician, but the truth is, the skill set is different than what a master mechanic brings to the table.
 
When the Scarecrow met the Wizard, he lamented his lack of a brain. The Wizard famously responded: 

Why, anybody can have a brain -- that's a very mediocre commodity. Back where I come from, we have universities -- seats of great learning -- where men go to become great thinkers. And when they come out, they think deep thoughts -- and with no more brains than you have. But -- they have one thing you haven't got: a diploma. Therefore, by virtue of the authority vested in me by the Universitatis Comitiatum E Pluribus Unum, I hereby confer upon you the honorary degree of ThD. … Doctor of Thinkology.

The Scarecrow was still a scarecrow, and he was still made of hay. The diploma didn't change that. It only changed his perception of himself, and perhaps it changed how he was perceived by others. In reality, despite his new look on life, it could have easily turned out that he remained most suited for work as a scarecrow. We have this high minded idea that a diploma elevates you to a "higher status." Some of the deepest thinkers I know do not have a degree. And they work much harder than I do for much less.
 
Where am I going with this? Actually, I am almost afraid to continue the thought. But here goes: the degree (or diploma) has and will continue to have marketable value in our economy. This is what we are used to. The degree opens doors that might not otherwise ever open. But we are foolish to think that such doors are the only opportunities out there for a long and fulfilling career. I don't need a guy with a degree to fix my toilet, I need a guy who knows how to fix toilets (bad example - I have plenty of toilet-fixing experience). But you get my point. The degree does not guarantee prosperity or happiness. Good men and women live good and honorable lives without one. They work hard, and are often better for it despite the struggle.
 
I've long considered going back to school to get undergraduate and graduate degrees in history. Now, I have pause to wonder: perhaps, if it is not too late, I should consider training in a trade, or a craft. Because I cannot help but to think that being able to do more than type and formulate words on a page would be a wise and possibly fulfilling venture, and even a precaution, especially in a future economy where opportunities might otherwise be limited.
 
Author Robert Heinlein once wrote: 

A human being should be able to change a diaper, plan an invasion, butcher a hog, conn a ship, design a building, write a sonnet, balance accounts, build a wall, set a bone, comfort the dying, take orders, give orders, cooperate, act alone, solve equations, analyze a new problem, pitch manure, program a computer, cook a tasty meal, fight efficiently, die gallantly. Specialization is for insects.

I have spent my life wanting to learn more about things. Hopefully, I won't miss the opportunity to learn how to do things.

2.0 Is Coming

Photo credit: Byron Hall

Of Trusses, Frames and Shelves

And the clouds parted on the third day, and there arrived a crew, a motley crew, to take that which was laid before them to bring to form that which will, by Heaven's will, once again be called … home.

Indeed the rain departed earlier than expected on Tuesday. The pre-constructed floor trusses arrived during Monday's monsoon, along with piles of subfloor and stick lumber. By the end of the day Tuesday, the trusses were laid and the basement was largely framed out. There are some errors, minor in nature, that will need to be corrected, but the ongoing transformation promises to be quite dynamic over the next several days.

I took quite a few pictures yesterday, and below I tried to select a representative sample to share with you. The major difference in the rebuild design versus the original house plan is our decision to finish out the basement. The new basement plan will feature an open family space, storage space, a bedroom, the storm shelter, a bathroom, and an odd little polygon that will serve as storage for all the exercise equipment we intend to buy but will likely rarely use.

Here's a shot of the floor trusses against a brilliant blue sky:

Here's a picture of the aforementioned polygon room, taken from the family space. It is actually where our ping-pong table (stacked high with boxes) used to be:

Standing near the exterior doorway of the basement, the shot below shows a new load-bearing wall extending much of the length of the basement. Behind that wall you can see the old "storm shelter" (which wasn't really). That whole space, extended all the way to the right where it adjoins the storm shelter, will be storage.

Below you can see what will be family space in the forefront, along with the storm shelter to the left and back, and straight ahead past the family space the new spare bedroom.

One final picture for today, but this one comes with a short background story. We hereby lay to rest and/or retire our beloved storage shelves. Years ago, my dad and I built these shelves for the basement, the prototypes for what I had envisioned to be but two of many. They held boxed up Christmas trees, decorations, containers of old children's clothes and toys, broken coolers, and whatever else we felt needed to be off the floor. When the house collapsed, the shelves took a shattering blow from the joists overhead, yet remained standing holding some of their fare. The wood was splintered and cracked, and the shelves had quite the offset lean, but upright and proud they remained. When the debris was cleared from the property, these survivors remained on the basement pad. For months they sat, unused, exposed to the weather. But when the builders arrived, new life and new utility came upon these friends. A chance to be used once again, they held tools, supplies, and refreshments. They moved from one end of the basement to the other, wherever they were needed. And on that day when the concrete trucks arrived and the laborers had need, these shelves served as extra scaffolding as the concrete was poured into the wall forms. Alas, finally, as the framers came to complete their work in the basement, it was time to retire these fine pieces of homemade construction. I wish there was someway to save them, but they have already given more than we could have ever expected. And so even now as I write this tribute, intended to be somewhat tongue-in-cheek, I find myself just the slightest bit emotional about these shelves that have been but a light-hearted novelty these past many months. To be certain, there will be progeny. But these shelves certainly have gone far above and beyond the call of duty. I will actually miss them. But they will remain a great story, one that I'm certain to tell again and again. As my dad recently remarked, "when we build ‘em, we build ‘em!" And did we ever. May we do so again someday.

When 1984 meets 1979?

I wish I were more educated than I am. For then, I might be better able to make sense of the cascade of events threatening to break hard against the eroding foundation of our national and international identity. Of late, I have refrained (painfully) from commenting on the rapid deterioration of our national discourse, our political/social angst, and the ramifications of the outbreak of violence throughout North Africa and the ongoing tensions of the Israeli-Iran situation.

What keeps coming to my mind can be embodied in the following question: What happens when George Orwell's Nineteen Eighty-Four meets 1979? In 1979, the U.S. economy was in poor shape, the Middle East and North Africa were as tumultuous as ever, and Iran was holding Americans hostage after the overrun of the U.S. Embassy in Teheran. While 2012 is not 1979, there are more than a few parallels at play, for those who wish to see it. In 1979, much like now, there were those among the intelligentsia who believed that America had entered a period of decline. For now, let's leave that where it is. The parallels of 2012 and 1979 are not the point of this post.

It has been many, many years since I've read Orwell. However, he is going back into my reading queue, I think. There are some notable concepts from Nineteen Eighty-Four that *seem* to be playing out before our eyes - again, if we choose to see it that way. Consider:

Doublethink: From Orwell:

The keyword here is blackwhite. … Applied to an opponent, it means the habit of impudently claiming that black is white, in contradiction of the plain facts. Applied to a Party member, it means a loyal willingness to say that black is white when Party discipline demands this. But it means also the ability to believe that black is white, and more, to know that black is white, and to forget that one has ever believed the contrary. This demands a continuous alteration of the past, made possible by the system of thought which really embraces all the rest, and which is known ... as doublethink. Doublethink is basically the power of holding two contradictory beliefs in one's mind simultaneously, and accepting both of them.

That which is demonstrably false is proclaimed as undeniable fact and beyond debate. That which is demonstrably true is proclaimed false and fictitious at best, evil at worst. Its aim is to demand loyalty and conformance not to reality, but to what some external voice claims is reality, whether it is or not. To be sure, if ever you hear someone claim that another is channeling Josef Goebbels, you can be certain that the one making the claim is likely more guilty of the projection. (Goebbels is the one who is often credited with the idea that if you tell a big lie and repeat it often enough, people will believe it).

Thoughtcrime: From Orwell via Wikipedia:

Thoughtcrime is the criminal act of holding unspoken beliefs or doubts that oppose or question the ruling party. In the book, the government attempts to control not only the speech and actions, but also the thoughts of its subjects. Unacceptable thought is known as crimethink …

We are often told what to think, and how to think about things we see, hear, or otherwise experience. Our thoughts can be shaped and corrupted not only but what others tell us to think, but by what information we are allowed to see and hear. We rely on and trust our information sources to be impartial, but that is more and more the exception than the rule. So many facts and factors never enter into the equation of our assessments, often by virtue of their deliberate omission. You think that this effort to shape thought is too far-fetched? Consider political correctness. Do you think that it is that much of a stretch to think that political correctness can lead to the definition what is acceptable and unacceptable, to include the classification of "hate speech" and even the notion of hate crimes? Because it can and it does.

The response of the administration and the media to an obviously premeditated attack on U.S. Embassies and interests around the world focused not on the perpetrators of violence but rather on the demonization of an American citizen for the promotion of "wrong" thoughts and beliefs. Rather than asking why our interests abroad were insufficiently protected, much less prepared for the obvious heightened security awareness required of an 9/11 anniversary, we now are openly engaged in a dialog about what can only become the serious consideration of anti-blasphemy regulations. Basically, such regulations could make it criminal to criticize Islam, out of fear of what it may incite. Like yelling "fire" in a theater, there are those who would suggest that anything remotely questioning the nature and motive of Islam and its followers be censored or extremely controlled, again out of fear of the reaction.

But then, regulations of such sort may not be necessary, not when people in power, rather than protecting its citizens, instead publishes names and thereby unleashes a flash mob of media hordes and others upon the neighborhoods and associations to scapegoat and otherwise drive said citizens and their families into hiding or recantation.

As you can see by the disjointed nature of this post, my thoughts on this are clearly not yet fully developed. Indeed, this whole line of thinking may be off base. But I cannot help but to be unnerved by the all too real tears in our national fabric, and in the fissures in our social contract that appear now to be very serious indeed. Because my thoughts are not fully formed, I'll leave you with a few links that have given me pause as I contemplate these matters. Down the road, as my thoughts become more clear, I may yet revisit this idea of what happens when 1984 meets 1979.

In the meantime, in the words of Samuel L. Jackson's character in Jurassic Park, "hold on to your butts."

The Video Didn't Do It

The Unofficial Campaign's Latest Disinformation Offensive

The Reign of Imagination

Concrete Pour

Yesterday was a big day out at the property. With all the ICF in place and plumb, some 5 mixer trucks lined up (staggered throughout the morning) to offload tons of concrete mix into the forms.

My wife and I paid a visit to the site during the early part of the process, to watch and to chat with our builder. The storm shelter is now a fully encased concrete bunker, and the exterior basement wall forms are all filled. Once these set, the floor trusses will arrive and the framing stage will begin.

The photos below, including the panoramic views, were taken by my father-in-law shortly after I left the site to go back to the office. Click to enlarge.

Finally, a video, because there ought to be a video. The highlight of the embedded video below is the hydraulic pumper. The mix comes down the chute into a reservoir on the pumper. The piston-based hydraulic action then pushes the mix into what I guess to be a 6-inch diameter tube that the crew uses to pour. It's loud, but cool. Kinda brings out the Tim Taylor in me. Sure beats the kettle mixer I used in Brazil back in 1994.


Two more videos, Pour 1 and Pour 2, just for fun.

I Can't Drive … 85

One foot on the brake and one on the gas, hey!
Well, there's too much traffic, I can't pass, no!
So I tried my best illegal move
A big black and white come and crushed my groove again!

CHORUS:
Go on & write me up for 125
Post my face, wanted dead or alive
Take my license n' all that jive
I can't drive 55! Oh No! Uh!

With apologies to Sammy Hagar, this song from my youth was among the first thoughts that popped into my head after reading this article about a new speed limit in Texas.

Texas will soon open a stretch of highway with the highest speed limit in the country, giving eager drivers a chance to rip through a trip between two of the state’s largest metropolitan areas.

The Texas Transportation Commission has approved a speed limit of 85 mph for a 41-mile toll road several miles east of the increasingly crowded Interstate 35 corridor between Austin and San Antonio. ...

Most highways in the U.S. top out at 75 mph, and there are no longer any roads in the U.S. with no speed limit. Some highways in rural West Texas and Utah have 80 mph speed limits.

Now, I'm far from an anti-autobahn prude, and in my younger days I did on occasion take my 1971 Impala up to speeds that shall not be named far out on deserted county roads. I remember the transition from 55mph to 65mph, and again to 70mph. Each adjustment came with the slightest of thrills at being able to legally go as fast as I preferred to go. I've also driven a fair amount in and through Texas, where in some places you can drive 75mph on a two-lane road.

But I have to tell you, maybe I'm just getting old, but I just don't know how comfortable I would be hurtling down the road at 85mph, much less with my family in tow.

(What am I saying!? This is a challenge of my manhood, isn't it. Isn't it!? Good thing for you I live in Alabama and not Texas. Yeah. Good thing for you! Ha! Dude, where's my car?)

Next Week's Forecast: 80% Chance of Pouring Concrete

I've always wondered what it would be like to be encased in concrete. Okay, not really. But as the latest pictures will attest, the storm shelter in the basement will likely satisfy my curiosity. (Although I must say, I don't think I will feel any less claustrophobic inside the safe area, no matter how big it is).

We are less than a week away from the Great Colossal Concrete Pour, weather permitting. The forms are up, the LiteDeck is in on the shelter, and final preparations are underway. Here's a look at the LiteDeck WRS (wood rib system) that serves as the ceiling to the storm shelter:

The basic LiteDeck WRS looks like this, in a cut-away drawing borrowed from their website:

The idea here is that the shelter's walls and ceiling will be a single, solid form of concrete. The crews will pour concrete into the vertical walls of the shelter, filling to the brim. As it fills, the pour will continue into the LiteDeck channels, which by virtue of the rebar, will be fully tied into the vertical walls. The fill will continue until there is a 3-4 inch slab across the whole ceiling. When it sets, the ceiling and three walls of the structure will be a single piece of concrete, tied into the existing retaining wall from the original house and to the basement floor.

Here's a shot looking inside the shelter at the temporary support frame:

And one more miscellaneous picture:

After the concrete sets and the supports are removed, the floor trusses (already built) will arrive along with a full crew of framers. We are told that the roof trusses are already built as well. Again, weather permitting, a full framing frenzy is only a few weeks away.

As an aside, I think I may finally be getting used to the change on the eastern vista. While I will certainly continue to miss the trees that once grew so grand, I know I can look forward to sights like this:

Looking at that, I have a catch in my heart.

I'm ready to go home.

Voyager on the Verge

They don't make 'em like that anymore.
Talk about the final frontier.

Tomorrow marks the 35th anniversary of the launch of the Voyager 1 spacecraft. Launched in 1977, along with its twin, Voyager 2, this venerable, nuclear-powered spacecraft is over 11 billion miles away and on the verge of crossing out of our solar system and into true interstellar space:

When NASA's Voyager 1 and Voyager 2 first rocketed out of Earth's grip in 1977, no one knew how long they would live. Now, they are the longest-operating spacecraft in history and the most distant, at billions of miles from Earth but in different directions.

Wednesday marks the 35th anniversary of Voyager 1's launch to Jupiter and Saturn. It is now flitting around the fringes of the solar system, which is enveloped in a giant plasma bubble. This hot and turbulent area is created by a stream of charged particles from the sun.

Outside the bubble is a new frontier in the Milky Way — the space between stars.

I remember, as a kid, the early flybys of Jupiter and Saturn, and later Uranus and Neptune (Voyager 2). That both spacecraft are just now at the far reaches of the solar system, after all of these years, just brings to bear the expanse that is our corner of the galaxy.

Voyager 1 is currently more than 11 billion miles from the sun. Twin Voyager 2, which celebrated its launch anniversary two weeks ago, trails behind at 9 billion miles from the sun.

They're still ticking despite being relics of the early Space Age.

Each only has 68 kilobytes of computer memory. To put that in perspective, the smallest iPod — an 8-gigabyte iPod Nano — is 100,000 times more powerful. Each also has an eight-track tape recorder. Today's spacecraft use digital memory.

68kb of memory. That is almost unbelievable. And an 8-track! Voyager is still sending us data today.

Who knows how long it will last, or how far it will go, or what it will find out there.

Or even, who will find it!

Review: Rawhide Down

I've read a number of politically oriented books, most of which were biographical or autobiographical in nature. Most modern narratives of this sort seem designed to either put the subject in the most positive and noble light possible, or they aim to utterly destroy the subject in the most heinous of ways. I tend to buy books that do the former, not to avoid the reality of history, but rather because I find it easier to be objective and see through a narrative that puts a positive spin on a subject than to suffer through the inevitable demagoguery and intentional misrepresentation offered by those authors bent on character assassination.

A well researched narrative is often at least somewhat balanced, despite any predilections of the author. But truly, in the end, a look inside the lives, ideas, and events of some of our political figures always illustrates one primary truth: they are people. Men or women with virtues and faults, some trying not to lose their way in the morass of politics and power, others relishing both and becoming unrecognizable in the process.

I own a few books on Reagan, including the ones containing excerpts of his diaries. As I sat down to read Rawhide Down, however, I was looking for something different: a glimpse into the history not widely shared, but revealing of both the person and the personae in one of the first political crises in my young lifetime (I was nine when, on March 30, 1981, John W. Hinckley, Jr. took aim at President Reagan outside the Washington Hilton Hotel). Rawhide Down tells the story of that momentous day.

We see up close the key actors in this high stakes drama. The Reagans. Hinckley. The Troika (James Baker, Michael Deaver, Edwin Meese). Casper Weinberger. Alexander Haig, who so famously muffed the presidential order of authority and succession. Agent Jerry Parr. Drs. David Gens, Benjamin Aaron, and Joseph Giordano. National Security Advisor Richard V. Allen, whose secret recordings of dialog within the Situation Room that day were made public not all that long ago. And several others.

The narrative flows like that of a suspense thriller, stringing together events and characters from several key settings as the drama plays out. As these characters are introduced, we are treated to simple but relevant backstories using the common flashback device. Indeed, there are a couple of places in the story where you remind yourself that these are real people living through and coping with real events. Rawhide Down is not exhaustive, nor do I believe it was intended to be. But it was clearly and meticulously researched, as the nearly 50 pages of notes and citations at the back of the book will attest. Rawhide Down puts on display the events of that day in a manner that is detailed, informative and accessible to the layman.

In some of the reviews I read after reading the book for myself, a few critics took issue with what they perceived to be elements of hero worship in the narrative. To be sure, in the decades since Reagan left office, there is more than a little of that in evidence, especially in conservative circles. But from my own recollection, as well as the common lore, Reagan very much conveyed a confident humor and charm that enchanted more than a few on both sides of the political aisle. It stands to reason that the public personae of the man closely matched the man himself, and therefore the recollections of numerous doctors, nurses, agents and other players close to the situation should not be summarily discounted as hero worship. Indeed, I feel certain that if something distinctly negative about the President's demeanor had been offered by one or more of these witnesses to history, we would know about it.

My personal recollections of that day are understandably weak. Rawhide Down does an admirable job of filling in the gaps and broadening the canvas of an event that involved far more than the fate of a man. As it is with so many other pivotal moments, the turning points of history can be measured in inches.

Political Humdrum

I'm tired of politics. There, I said it. Let me say it again, with feeling. I'm tired of politics.

There is politics on TV, on the web, and in my chicken sandwich. It fills every gap in every minute in every day with memes and insinuations and blather that seeks to disguise the vapidity of the message (and the messenger). When a nugget of truth on a matter of import actually rises to the surface, a hellish fury of denunciation and hyperbole is unleashed upon us all, the aim of which is to devour and distract and to pull closed the shade, thereby snuffing out the light and the opportunity for serious reflection.

I am a political creature. I still pay attention, because I care about what is going on, where we are going as a nation, and what we will leave behind. But this season, I cannot find much enthusiasm to write about politics and the upcoming election. Suffice it to say, I am a fiscal and social conservative with more than a dash of libertarian seasoning. It is no secret where my vote will go, even though I hold no party affliation.

As I have said before, I am not an activist when it comes to politics. I observe, and periodically offer my observations. I have strong opinions and beliefs on issues, and I periodically offer those too. This blog has plenty of posts that reflect my sense of events, and I don't shy away from those views. But there are more important things in life than engaging in the electioneering play-by-play, and therefore I find it unnecessary to assume any sort of mantle or responsibility toward trying to persuade people to vote one way or another. Those voices are ubiquitous. I see no need to add to the cacophony.

My only advice is this: Do what you can to filter out the adolescence, and listen for the grown-up speak, if there is any.

Back to the grindstone.

Videos: Basement Taking Shape

The ICF framing for the basement level is underway! First step, of course, is to place all the forms. Once all these are set, they will be filled with concrete. We're not there yet, but we're on the way.

Miles In My Shoes

Someday, long in the future, I will sit down and write the stories of our recovery following the loss of our home. I haven't yet, because sometimes I wonder if people aren't already tired of hearing about it. I am more certain than ever that recovery is a slow, exhausting process, and continues long after the event fades from everyone else's memory. Every time I drive up to the property where our house once stood (and will stand again), I find myself haunted by the still obvious change in landscape. The memory for me remains raw, and fresh. But I digress.

There are many great stories, and a couple that are not so great, but perhaps are illustrative anyway. Perhaps the most pathetic story I expect to tell often in my old age has to do with my shoes.

Shoes? Yes, shoes. For you see, the shoes on my feet right now continue to be the only pair of shoes I own. The only reason these shoes were not lost in the tornado is because they were on my feet when the storm hit. A single pair of New Balance cross-trainers. Almost two years old, these shoes are on the verge of falling apart. The sole is tearing loose, the tread on the bottom wearing thin, the cushion insets worn and flat, the fabric crusty with unwashable mud, drywall dust, house insulation, you name it. My feet hurt at the end of each and every day, and I have a desk job.

So why do I continue to wear them? Why do I not simply go to the store, try on some shoes, and buy them? Money is not an issue. What is so hard about taking a little time out of my day to do something that, truly, is not that hard to do? I have no good reason, no response that can justify continuing to wear the same, dirty, falling-apart pair of sneakers. Is it laziness or procrastination? Do I really have better and more important things to do that preclude a side trip to the shoe store? Some days, I think about putting an end to this podiatric pounding, and yet I decide that I can't be bothered with it.

It shouldn't be this hard, you know. But every now and then, I do make things harder than they need to be. There are any number of choices I should make that would promote better mental, emotional and physical health. Making those better choices means changing my habits, and stepping out of the typical fallback patterns that serve up only excuses.

The truth is, my feet hurt, and there is nothing comfortable whatsoever in maintaining the status quo, especially with regard to these shoes. My feet are not a "comfort-zone". These shoes need to be replaced.

In the end, there is only one answer: Just go out and buy the blasted shoes. Maybe even two pair. Or three!

And I will. Eventually. Maybe even tomorrow. If I have time.

Curiosity: The Movie Trailer

Okay, this is cool. The Curiosity landing with a Hollywood flair. All it needs is a voice over by Gary Sinise.


Courtesy NASA Video Gallery.

JPL Does it Again

The Jet Propulsion Laboratory (JPL) is on a roll. The Mars missions over the last decade, although not problem free, have been simply remarkable. From the twin rovers Spirit and Opportunity, the Mars Reconnaissance Orbiter, and now mega-rover Curiosity, JPL continues to show what NASA is capable of accomplishing even in this age of shrinking budgets. Early this morning, Curiosity was set safely on the surface of Mars:

PASADENA, Calif. — In a show of technological wizardry, the robotic explorer Curiosity blazed through the pink skies of Mars, steering itself to a gentle landing inside a giant crater for the most ambitious dig yet into the red planet's past.

A chorus of cheers and applause echoed through the NASA Jet Propulsion Laboratory on Sunday night after the most high-tech interplanetary rover ever built sent a signal to Earth. It had survived a harrowing plunge through the thin Mars atmosphere.

"Touchdown confirmed," said engineer Allen Chen. "We're safe on Mars."

...

It was NASA's seventh landing on Earth's neighbor; many other attempts by the U.S. and other countries to zip past, circle or set down on Mars have gone awry.

The arrival was an engineering tour de force, debuting never-before-tried acrobatics packed into "seven minutes of terror" as Curiosity sliced through the Martian atmosphere at 13,000 mph.

In a Hollywood-style finish, cables delicately lowered the rover to the ground at a snail-paced 2 mph.

There are plenty of other places to go to satisfy your, uh, Curiosity. Here is a gallery of images from NASA, the JPL Homepage, and one of my frequent web-stops, Universe Today. Here is a video on YouTube that condenses the live feed from mission control, showing the excitement from before and after confirmation of touchdown, complete with a simulated animation (which runs a little ahead of the live action).

These folks are going to have a lot of fun over the next several months, and longer. Funny thing, though. Everytime we go to Mars, it seems, this guy shows up.

More Footer Action

As mentioned in the previous post, we had a design meeting on Wednesday with our builder, the windows and doors guy, the site manager, and the framing and truss designer for our house. During that two hour session, we went over in great detail the design plan for the basement, main floor, bonus room over garage, and other considerations. While we had toyed with the idea of a bathroom next to the bonus room upstairs, we decided that the complication it would introduce to the roof truss design not to be worth the cost. So this means we are sticking with the original design and leaving the closet to the bonus room, so that it can be counted as a bedroom.

One feature that could be "new" is an expanded deck in the back. In the original house, we had a screened deck with just a small landing able to hold a grill, with stairs down to the ground level. Now that we have lost our "tree house" view, due to the fact that 22 trees behind the house have given way to an expansive view of the cotton fields to the east, I have become enamoured with the idea of a sitting area outside that would allow us to enjoy an unobstructed view of the night sky. I've asked for conceptual renderings of the idea; we'll see what the cost turns out to be.

In the new basement design, we had decided to add a wall running north-south, to separate a storage space from what we envision to be the open family space. One of the things we had asked the builder to review was a better placement of the support posts at the basement level. During the meeting, he came back with the recommendation of making that proposed wall load-bearing, which along with the use of a floor-truss design instead of standard i-beam joists, will allow us to span the family space without support posts. That, and we can run duct work through the truss, better hiding the climate control system. Of course, to make that wall load-bearing, that means we needed another cut in the pad for a new footer. And, since there weren't other footers under that particular space, they had to run it longer than the wall will be, all the way to the south wing wall footer.

All I need now is a small camera strapped to the back of a toy X-Wing Fighter.

The new footers for the new storm shelter have already been poured. The tractor is sitting inside where the shelter will be.

All things considered, it's been a pretty good week out there.

Foam Forms and Footers

There are days where I truly wish I could click my heels and jump to the finish of this rebuilding effort. This is doubly sad given the fact that we are just getting started, having only had a permit in place for a few weeks. Nevertheless, there is action on Chase Manor Version 2.0, so it is time for an update.

Most of the effort at the start has been devoted to demolition and site prep for the foundation repair. The original house had an unfinished daylight basement, with cinder block wing walls (north and south) and 2x6 framing on the back wall (east). The remnants of the wing walls have been completely removed, down to the pad level, and in some cases below pad level down to the first layer of intact block resting on the footers. The only original wall remaining is the west wall, which with some repair will be reusable.

Having decided to finish out the basement for 2.0, we have elected to build a fairly large storm shelter (roughly 10x18), with reinforced concrete on every side. In order to make this work, the basement pad was channeled out in that space in order to lay down new footers to support the safety structure.

Rebar has already been laid out and tapped in to the existing west and north side footers. I'm not sure yet when they will come to pour those, but I imagine it will be soon.

In addition, we have elected to go with insulating concrete form (ICF) technology for all the exterior walls at basement level (as well as the storm shelter). Taking a closer look at this, you basically assemble these Lego-like styrofoam forms and fill them with concrete. In addition to the structural benefits we believe it offers, we also expect to gain some level of energy efficiency as the styrofoam forms remain a part of the structure, providing built in insulation.

Right now, the crews have assembled some of the forms, which wait in a corner for placement. However, much of the block around the perimeter of the pad will need to be replaced before any of this happens. I may have to find a way to go to the site and loiter when they begin assembling the forms, because I'm intrigued by how all that will work, to include the cutting out of the windows.

Tomorrow we have a major design meeting with the builder and the subcontractor for the framing, which should go a long way toward finalizing the overall floor plan for the residence.

It is good to be moving forward, and seeing some action at the property. But spring cannot get here soon enough.

No More Weekly Reader

I haven't thought about Weekly Reader in years. Receiving those venerable, thin periodicals every week in grade school was, if not a highlight, at least a memory that generations of students have shared.

But no more. In the modern era, sadly, the Weekly Reader no longer has a place:

Weekly Reader, a staple in American classrooms for a century, has some hard news for its young readers: it’s shutting down.

Chief rival Scholastic, which bought the school newspaper earlier this year, is folding it into Scholastic News and axing all but five of Weekly Reader’s 60 employees in White Plains, NY, The Post has learned.

Like all papers, Weekly Reader was struggling with changes roiling the print world and was under pressure to develop digital editions. Along with school budget cutbacks, those challenges were compounded by ownership turmoil that left the paper with few resources to invest, sources said.

Weekly Reader and its predecessor My Weekly Reader, which grew out of Current Events magazine in 1902, was read by two-thirds of all kids in grammar school at its peak and hit a high of 13 millions subscribers across its editions for pre-school through 12th grade.

I'm feeling older by the day. But no fear, because soon every student will have their own school-issued iPad, able to access the world. (Eye roll here).

Sometimes, simpler is better. A lesson we simply cannot seem to learn.

Like a Good Neighbor ...

My brother-in-law shared this with me today ... a genuine laugh out loud kind of moment. Of course, you might have to be a Cubs fan to really enjoy it.

Sweet Suite from a Movie About Bugs

Most weekdays, I provide taxi service for my children, getting them wherever they need to go while hoping that the effort doesn't make me too late in getting to the office. During the school year, this is often easier, in part because I'm considerably more "firm" in the enforcement of departure times. I admittedly relax that standard during the summer months.

The morning commute usually runs about 20-25 minutes, and I realized long ago that fighting a battle of what (if anything) plays on the car's CD player simply wasn't worth the effort. Happy kids increases the likelihood of good behavior - or at least behavior that minimizes the distraction to the driver. So we pretty much listen to whatever they want.

Fortunately for me, my kids enjoy a variety of music, and that includes soundtracks and instrumental compositions. Many of them, not surprisingly, have a Disney element. In the player right now is a Pixar's Greatest Hits compilation. On the whole, I enjoy it, in part because a substantial portion of the CD contains music composed by Randy Newman.

If you are aware of Newman's songwriting and singing, you know about his recognizable and distinctive voice. But he has also written numerous scores composed and arranged for orchestra or symphonic band. One such example is the piece below, entitled "A Bug's Life Suite" from, yes, the Pixar movie A Bug's Life. While not my favorite movie in the Pixar family, the piece below would be a delight to play. Having once had the opportunity to play the main theme music from The Magnificent Seven, I find some fun similarities when I listen to the Newman score. A similar flavor is found in the City Slickers soundtrack (which I adore) by Marc Shaiman.

Yes, I'm pining for the good old days where I could sit down with a symphonic array of musicians and lose myself for a few hours. I'll probably never stop pining for it, either. But I'll always make time to listen. Here's "A Bug's Life Suite", composed by Randy Newman.

This is My Story

"You did not choose Me, but I chose you …" (John 15:16a, NASB)

So begins what I consider to be my "life verse," that one special piece of Scripture that anchors me in my faith, that spurs me on as a Christ-follower. John 15:16, indeed, was at the very center of my return to Christ after my own prodigal journey some 20+ years ago.

In this chapter of "A Portrait of Me," I tell this story. Indeed, you could say that I have been building up to this moment on this blog for a couple of years now. I am fortunate enough to be able to present this story in a special audio format.

Over ten years ago, I served as a substitute speaker on occasion for the Wednesday night 2:42 services at Chase Valley Church. While Chase Valley no longer exists as a unique entity, its DNA lives on after a fashion in the Chase Campus of Cove Church. I had the opportunity to teach at least 4 times, each message recorded and stored on CD. It was to my great relief that all of these CDs were found in the rubble of my house after the storm destroyed it back in March.

Finding these CDs impressed upon me that left in a box, they serve no purpose. In time, as the opportunity warrants, I will awaken these messages from their digital dormancy and share them here on this blog. Indeed, we have the technology. The last message I gave shall be the first.

We love to tell stories. Some stories we tell over and over again. Others, we don't share often enough, but clearly should. This is my story, although it is not mine alone ("all creation tells the story, and testifies of His great glory"). Some of you were there when it was told. Others of you were there when it happened. Still others of you played a direct part in the plan to bring me back home. To each of you, my deepest thanks. To my family, I love you all, more than you know.

Run time is about 35 minutes. You have a couple of options: you should be able to play the mp3 file directly using Windows Media Player, or whatever player you have as your default media player. Or you can right-click on the link and select Save Target As and download the file.

So here it is. Thank you for listening.

April 10, 2002 - Chase Valley Church
Jim Chase - "This is My Story"

Other chapters:

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
A Portrait of Me: This is My Story

Version 2.0 is Underway ... Sort of

Over four months after losing our home in the tornado, the task to build Version 2.0 is finally underway!

The good news: We have a contract with a builder, paperwork is at the bank, and a permit should be in place in a matter of days, if not sooner. Preliminary site preparations, to include residual demolition along the wing walls and some foundation repair is anticipated this week.

The bad news: After almost 6 weeks of hot, dry weather, mother nature picks THIS week to replenish the thirsty soil. So just as we're getting started, the weather throws a rainy wrench into this. Ironic, in a way.

Nevertheless, we are undeterred in our excitement to finally be moving forward on V2.0. There are lots of decisions still to be made, and we're waiting on several subcontractors to provide us needed feedback, but it does feel good to be looking at what's ahead and less so at what's behind.

The rain continues to fall. And that's okay.

At least we've got a sign:

Red, White & Blue

Sometimes, you simply need to let the voice of liberty ring out. May our voices never cease to celebrate life and liberty.


Happy Fourth of July!

So Long, Andy

Government Gets Weaker as it Gains More Power

After a couple days of layman's analysis and digestion of others' assessments, I am standing by my initial reaction to the Supreme Court ruling on the Affordable Care Act. The ruling in effect says that while the Government cannot "make" you purchase insurance, it can penalize you for your failure to make that purchase, in the form of a tax. Legally, the Government cannot mandate your choices, but apparently it can levy a punitive tax on the choice you make. And it is all constitutional, so says the Court.

In many ways, this is nothing new. Gasoline has taxes that are paid by those who choose to drive. Alcohol has taxes paid by those who choose to drink. Smokers are taxed based on their choice to purchase tobacco. There are taxes everywhere, based on the consumption choices we make. Only now, we can be taxed by choosing not to consume.

Theoretically, we can now be taxed based on our non-participation in just about anything.

I can't remember where I read the following thought, so forgive me for not properly citing the reference, but in essence someone wrote that modern jurisprudence (the last 100 years or so) has perverted the original intent of the Constitution, which was designed to ensure the protection of our natural rights - those universal and unalienable rights that we have by virtue of our existence and sentience - against the potential tyranny of governments. In other words, the Constitution was established to ensure our liberty as citizens from overly oppressive forms of government. In the modern era, however, the Constitution is being interpreted to allow creative social engineering that involves the expansion of "rights" to include the wants, desires, and needs of special interests within our society for the common good (entitlements). The problem is that these views are in conflict with one another. There is no protection of an individual's right to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness when the Government actively and/or punitively intrudes on the individual's choices.

More and more, I'm coming to the conclusion that the more power the Government gains (power over its citizens), the weaker it actually becomes. Weaker in the sense that the system of governance we've celebrated for over 223 years no longer holds dear to the principles upon which it was founded. And for this republic, that's dangerous, because it means the American Experiment is coming to an end. The intellectual, philosophical and moral foundations that gave birth to America are fading into antiquity. That makes us weaker, even though on the surface the government appears stronger.

I cannot help but to think Roberts and this court took a sledgehammer to what will turn out to be a load-bearing wall. Decline is not inevitable. But what happens next, as it always does, depends on the choices we make.

Just be ready for the inevitable tax if you choose poorly.

Apparently, No Limiting Principle

Obviously it is early, and analysis of today's Supreme Court ruling on the Affordable Care Act (Obamacare) has just begun. But my first blush reaction is simply this:

The Court has ruled that Government can impose upon its citizens anything it wants - there is, apparently, no such thing as a limiting principle.

By limiting principle, I simply mean that line that limits what an elected government can do, the limits of its power. In the issue at hand, as long as a thing purports to be for the "common good" or "general welfare", then Congress has the power to create laws that force people into choices they would otherwise not make, eliminating at least in part their freedom to choose. Should any discriminatory group (think special interest groups) decide that a certain entitlement is a "right", then with enough votes in Congress and a willing President and a bureaucratic army of regulatory enforcers - what they say goes. Individuals will not have the right to "opt out" of these so-called mandates. Every individual must now, by law, be insured, and if not, must pay a penalty - a tax. It will be the insurance industry, in cooperation with the Government, that imposes that tax. By establishing this precedent, there truly is nothing to stop any other Government-subsidized industry from wanting to push for their own brand of universal entitlements to promote the "general welfare." All it will take is willing participants in the halls of power.

You know what other forms of government purport to uphold and impose solutions for the common good? Socialist forms of government do that. By act of Congress, signature of the President, and judgment of the Supreme Court, the social compact of our nation has gone from one that upholds as primary the ideal of liberty to one that seeks to engineer a better society "for the common good."

If this is our future, so be it. Elections have consequences, as they say. But whatever you do, don't try to pawn this off as a victory for liberty and representative democracy.

Because it is not.

Update: Knee jerk reactions are often just that, and I admit the above probably should be characterized as such. Reading more on the ruling seems to imply that the Commerce Clause (under which the mandate was first argued), cannot be used to prop up the law. Therefore, the only way to allow the mandate to stand is to specifically characterize it as a tax that must be implemented like any other tax. Congress has the power to tax. Of course, citizens have the right to express their opinions on such taxes through the ballot box. I still don't like the ruling, but it will be interesting to watch this play out over time.

Thinking of Colorado

Like so many, I've been watching the events in Colorado with an unsettling mixture of grief and horror. The fires that are ravaging that state, in particular the Waldo Canyon fire invading the confines of Colorado Springs, are catastrophic and uncomfortably captivating. I tried many times today to focus on my day job, yet found myself looking around for any and all updates I could find.

My folks used to live in the Springs, and I still have family in the state. My extended family has members that have been forced to evacuate, and at least one involved in fighting the fire.

At one point today, I was stricken with the realization that may explain in part why watching homes succumb to the inferno affects me so deeply. I know, in part, exactly what these folks are going through. Yet where the loss of my home came quickly and suddenly, there one moment and smashed beyond recognition the next, these folks are watching this disaster play out in slow motion in front of them, and on TV, each of them wondering when, or if, their homes will be standing upon their return. Surely, many are hoping against hope, praying as fervently as they know how for rain and wind to cooperate and end this unspeakable nightmare. I'm not sure which is a worse way to lose a home. But a loss is a loss, and the shock will last for some time.

Helpless as I am, I pray. Prayer is all I have right now, and encouragement that things can be replaced, a lesson I continue to absorb into my own reality and circumstances. The loss of a home is a terrible thing, but more terrible would be the loss of family, the loss of faith. Retain these latter two, we can all survive and even rejoice.

I wish you all, especially those in danger's path, peace and safety and grace. May the Lord be with you.

An Enjoyable Read: So Brave, Young and Handsome

Several years ago, my wife bought me a book to read based on a review she had read in one of her magazines. That book was a debut novel by Leif Enger, entitled Peace Like a River. Peace was a thoroughly enjoyable tale about a young asthmatic boy and an unfortunate family adventure across the upper Great Plains in the early 1960's. I'm not sure if it was an unsurprising affinity I held with the main character, or if it was simply the pure and inspired imagery of the prose, but I distinctly recall thinking that this was a book I could read again and again. I waited eagerly for the next work that I was certain would come.

Years passed, and yet there was nothing forthcoming from Mr. Enger. After a while, I stopped looking for new releases. That is, until a couple of weeks ago, when I went looking for a book to read during our brief vacation in Hilton Head. It was then I discovered that Mr. Enger did indeed have a second novel that went to print back in 2008 entitled So Brave, Young and Handsome. Yet again, I found myself quickly drawn into the author's simple storytelling, guiding the reader on an adventure as slow as a meandering stream and as fast as runaway rapids. Set in the early 20th century, So Brave is an outlaw tale, part old style Western, part Les Miserables and part Unforgiven, and once again I found an affinity with the protagonist, an accidental author who found success his first time out but great difficulty in reproducing that success. Indeed, it is hard not to wonder if there is a little bit of an autobiographical thread being offered. Nonetheless, as I did with Peace, I simply allowed the wonderful wordcraft to pour over me. One example is below, where Monte Becket is helping his mysterious neighbor build a boat:

While the water heated he handed me a block plane and showed me how to remove, by long angled strokes, curls of wood from the bow's rough stem. Paying no heed to my apprehension he set me working downward on the left edge, himself working upward on the right; stroke by stroke the bow grew more fluid and proportionate while curls slid down like ringlets and dropped in aromatic heaps. I could have shouted, could have wept, but Glendon was all business and wanted that stem just so. There was no talking for many minutes. When we finished my forearms were covered with shavings and I felt the weariness of a better man.

Simply delightful. Especially that last sentence. Just as gripping, to me at least, were the inner conflicts tormenting the heart of Monte Becket. Having once written a grand tale that he could only imagine but not possibly know, Becket would find that without this knowing he would never again be able to pen words with anything resembling passion until such time as life's experiences would offer him the fortune of a reawakened inspiration. These doubts and fears of fading into nothingness play out through the entire novel, and in its wake Enger leaves nuggets of wisdom that sometimes will catch the reader unaware.

One of the more delightful twists is the inclusion of a real life character into the story, Charles Siringo, an author himself and an agent with the Pinkerton Detective Agency. Wikipedia has a fascinating summary of Siringo's activities with Pinkerton, to include his involvement with Butch Cassidy's gang.

While my opinion matters little, I cannot but heartily recommend both of Enger's works. There are books I read that I know I'll never pick up again. Yet these two are both ones I hope I get a chance to re-read, simply for the pure, boyish fun of it.

Homeland Security Threat Level: Extinct

This one is just too amusing to pass up. Opening headline this morning: New York judge rules that Homeland Security can seize dinosaur skeleton from art storage company.

NEW YORK — One of the more unusual arrest warrants in U.S. history was issued today when a federal judge authorized the Department of Homeland Security to seize a dinosaur from an art storage company. There’s no need for handcuffs though. It’s been dead for 70 million years.

Uh, what? (And which is 70 million years old, the dinosaur or the art company?)

Created in the aftermath of 9/11, the Department of Homeland Security was established in part to bring several federal bureaucracies together under one umbrella, with focus on intelligence and law enforcement agencies. We all know about the color-coded threat level system. A little research on their website tells us that they are keenly focused on counterterrorism, border security, disaster-related activities, immigration and cybersecurity. I'm not sure how the apprehending of long-dead dinosaurs fits within their mission. We need a little more on this story:

U.S. District Judge Kevin Castel signed the warrant after finding there was “probable cause to believe” that the nearly complete Tyrannosaurus bataar skeleton is subject to forfeiture under U.S. laws. The U.S. filed a lawsuit against the skeletal property a day earlier, seeking to seize it for an eventual return to Mongolia.

…

The lawsuit said the Tyrannosaurus bataar skeleton was brought in March 2010 from Great Britain to Gainesville, Fla., with erroneous claims that it had originated in Great Britain and was worth only $15,000. It sold at auction on May 20 for more than $1 million, though the sale was contingent upon the outcome of court proceedings.

…

Tyrannosaurus bataars were first discovered in 1946 during a joint Soviet-Mongolian expedition to the Gobi Desert in the Mongolian Omnogovi Province. Since 1924, Mongolia has enacted laws declaring fossils to be the property of the government of Mongolia and criminalizing their export from the country.

Ok, so that makes a little more sense. The dinosaur shouldn't even be here, and it apparently made its way here under false pretenses. So maybe this falls under the Fraud & Counterfeit component of the Counterterrorism division. Or maybe the International Activities or Law Enforcement components of that same division. As with so many things about DHS, this one isn't exactly clear to me. Don't misunderstand - the Government is doing the right thing, if a relic such as this was indeed taken illegally from Mongolia. But it probably doesn't help DHS from a PR standpoint.

I guess it doesn’t matter. Until such time as some group of scientists decide to go all Jurassic Park on the world, we as a nation are safe from dinosaurs. Good to know. But I love this little paragraph in a related Associated Press article (emphasis mine):

Department of Homeland Security spokesman Luis Martinez says the skeleton will be moved to a government warehouse. He says the government cannot disclose the name or address of the storage site because other priceless antiquities are there.

Cool. Secret government warehouses filled with "other priceless antiquities." Indiana Jones lives!

A Short Getaway

Sometimes, you just need to get away. After 3+ months of fretting about tornado recovery and rebuilding concerns, I took the family away for a long weekend to Hilton Head Island. Admittedly, two 9-hour travel days gave it a rushed feel, but the two days in between were nice. We had good weather, good company, and overall a good time.

I know I've said this before, but there is something about the water that soothes me. Granted, I prefer a lakeside experience rather than the ocean surf variety, but it still brings a momentary peace that few other venues can do for me. Maybe someday I'll have the fortune to spend my retirement in a house on the lake, private dock, a skiff for fishing and maybe a canoe. I almost ache for that day.

I don't typically make a habit of putting pictures of my family online, but for this post, I'll make an exception. The photo below was taken outside Hudson's while we were waiting for a table. For whatever reason, there is something in this captured moment that goes beyond the surface, beyond the obvious. I don't have words for it, and perhaps that's the point. It tugs at me nonetheless.

I know the real world awaits - indeed it is banging on my door even now. But part of me remains, or longs to be, where the boy below appears to be now. If only captured moments could be as timeless as they appear to be in our pictures.

Wrestling with Writer's Block

Clearly, I've fallen out of the writing habit of late. Well, that's not entirely accurate. My workload at the office lately has involved a large number of writing assignments, so the majority of my resources have been diverted to those efforts. So now that I finally have time to sit down again and write for this blog … I'm drawing a blank.

So just for fun, I decided to see what the almighty Google had to offer.

This site suggests the hard-nosed, man-up approach to breaking writer's block: 1) Force yourself, 2) Write no matter what, 3) Embrace bad ideas (in the hopes it will trigger good, or at least better ideas, 4) Write about uncomfortable things, and 5) Publish something every day. On the whole, the hard-nosed approach is what I often take when I get stuck like this, but I'd prefer to latch on to a personal project of sorts that I'm passionate about. (Yes, I know that sentence ended poorly).

This site offers 15 tips to overcome the lack of ideas, which the author purports is always at the core of writer's block. His tips are basically suggestions for resources, such as: 1) looking at files on the computer, 2) browser bookmarks, 3) newspapers and magazines, 4) books and television, 5) old emails, 6) YouTube, 7) podcasts, and 8) good old-fashioned brainstorming. All of these are things I've tried, with some occasional success. But of course, the underlying challenge here is still finding something that not only interests me, but stands a reasonable chance of being of interest to others.

However, it was something that the author of this article said that I found rather illuminating:

For me, writer’s block often occurs when I’m uninspired or worn out from writing too much. Writing is an art like any other. You need inspiration to proceed, but too much work will wear you down and that inspiration will drain.

That is often precisely my problem. I produce a large amount of documentation for work on a regular basis, and sometimes it is indeed cognitively exhausting. Sitting down to work on personal writing projects, there just isn't anything left in the tank. And without a spark of inspiration to start the engine again, I just close the laptop and go off to do something else.

But I also know that if I allow myself to fall out of the habit of writing for personal fulfillment, it will be that much harder to get it going again. The hard-nosed way is really the only way for me, until a new project or essay idea comes along. The product of the hard-nosed way are posts like this.

See what I did there?

Until next time.

Ray Bradbury, RIP

Ray Bradbury, a renowned author of science fiction and fantasy, died last night at the age of 91. I haven't read Bradbury in many many years, but remember well reading several of his short stories, as well as Dandelion Wine and Something Wicked This Way Comes. Strangely enough, I have yet to set aside time to read his more notable works, Farenheit 451 and The Martian Chronicles. With regard to the latter of these two books, we actually have a leatherbound, authentically signed copy that we rescued from the storm rubble in March.

Looking through his bibliography, one cannot help but notice that even as he advanced in years, Bradbury kept writing. His last novel was 6 years ago, but he had published plays, short story collections even up to the past couple years. That's pretty remarkable. Rest in peace, Mr. Bradbury.

Little Black Spot on the Sun Today

Well, okay, it was yesterday. I missed the Venus transit across the sun, but if you search online, you'll find a number of fantastic photos and images of the event. And since we won't be around 100 or so years from now to see it again, we'll just have to enjoy the pictures. By far, the best one I've seen yet is the one below, taken by Eric Snitil of WSFA News in Montgomery. The photo itself was taken in my old Prattville stomping grounds. Click to enlarge.



(h/t: Eric Snitil)