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Showing posts from December, 2009

A Personal Review of the Naughts

        Everyone seems to be making lists of the greatest good things, worst bad things, middling mediocre things, etc. of the decade, so I guess I may as well join the crowd. First I want to go on record as realizing that the first decade of the 21st century ends when 2010 ends, but nobody else seems to care, so why should I? Anyway, here is my list of the biggest personal events, several good and some not-so-good, that occurred during the decade of the naughts. Except for the last item, the list is arranged chronologically.         I finally talked Barbara into retiring in 2000. It has been great having her home all the time! Also in 2000 we took the first of two cross country driving trips. We spent eight weeks on the road; actually six, because we spent two weeks in Manheim with Barbara’s mother. This time we went around the periphery of the country, eastbound through the northern states, down the east coast to Florida, then westbound through the southern states.         In 2001

Post-youth Listening Problems

I happened to be in the room this morning when Barbara was watching The View on TV. Kathy Griffin was the guest. First let me say that she talks and talks – if I were around her all day she would drive me nuts. But that’s her style, it works for her, and she has lots of loyal fans, so who am I to complain? But she illustrated a few problems some of us post-youths have when we are around young people. Notice I said we have problems – it is not necessarily the fault of the youngsters. First, I get tired of hearing “ya know” before, during and after every sentence. If I know, you don’t have to tell me, and if I don’t know, then don’t tell me I do. Please just tell me what it is that I don’t know, then we will both know. Ya know. Second, I don’t know if they are talking faster or if I am just listening more slowly, but they are often speaking two sentences ahead of the one I am hearing. I realize  young people are in a hurry, but believe me, the second-to-last place they are rush

The Day After Christmas

I have just read an interesting book, My Stroke of Insight , written by Jill Bolte Taylor, Ph.D. Dr. Taylor is a neuroanatomist who specializes in the postmortem investigation of the human brain. (Some people are turned on by the strangest things.) On December 10, 1996, Dr. Taylor suffered a stroke caused by sudden bleeding from a birth defect in the left hemisphere of her brain.. As soon as she realized what was happening, she concentrated on trying to remember her thoughts and feelings. The book is a record of her impressions, beginning with the incidence of the stroke, and ending with the return of all her faculties eight years later. As a result of her experiences, Dr. Taylor also presents recommendations for stroke victims and their care givers. The human brain has two hemispheres – it is as if we have two brains, each with different functions and personalities. Normally they work together in processing incoming data, creating a seamless view of the world. But each hem

Q and Christmas

It has been over 150 years since Biblical scholars have begun examining certain writings in the New Testament. The basis of this activity has been the way the gospels of Matthew, Mark and Luke overlap. Most scholars agree that Mark was written first, and that Matthew and Luke used his writings as a common reference. About 45% of the writings of both Gospels repeat stories from Mark, using the same order and even the same words in many cases. But in addition, approximately 25% of Matthew’s and Luke’s Gospels contain writings that agree with each other, but are not found in Mark. The implication is that there is some other document to which they referred. That document is simply called Q after the German word Quelle , or “source.” First things first – why is it assumed that Mark’s Gospel precedes the other two? There are several reasons: 1.)                           It is shorter. It is more likely that Matthew and Luke added content to Mark than that Mark took their stories an

The Moravian Lovefeast

This past Sunday evening Barbara and I, along with another couple, attended the Lovefeast and Candle Service at the Moravian church in Lititz. This beautiful old church was built in 1787. Music has always been important to the Moravian congregation; in colonial America the best place to hear Bach, Mozart and Haydn was not New York or Philadelphia , but at a Moravian church. The musical tradition continues today. The Lovefeast follows the practice of the early Christians, who shared a meal together whenever they gathered for worship. In the modern version, the meal consists of a sweet bun and decaffeinated coffee or chocolate milk. As the bulletin described it, "The lovefeast is an opportunity to signify our unity in the love of Christ as a family of sisters and brothers in the Lord." A small but excellent Chamber Orchestra and a fine chancel choir performed classical selections as a prelude to the service. A large, unlighted Moravian Star was suspended from the ceili

This And That

I don’t often read Charles Krauthammer’s column, but for some reason I read it today. As usual, I didn’t agree with most of it, but he had a metaphor for writing a daily column that I think applies neatly to writing a blog. He said, “…is like being married to a nymphomaniac ― as soon as you’re done, you’ve got to do it again.” I consider that a good excuse for skipping a day or two now and then. Where shall I start today? Important stuff first. It’s 2:00 pm and our driveway has not been cleared of the nine inches of snow we had yesterday and last night. This is very unusual; normally the snow is cleared early in the morning. I called and left a message, but it’s Sunday, so who knows when it will be delivered? Now for the unimportant(?) stuff. Among other things, politics has been defined as the art of the possible. Obama got two huge lessons in pragmatism in the past three days: first at Copenhagen , where he salvaged an agreement to agree, but little else. He almost wound up with

Big Numbers

Lately we have been hearing some very large numbers bandied about – so large, in fact, that I am not sure we understand just how large they really are. Some examples: Bill Gates’ net worth is $40 billion, the population of China is 1.17 billion people, the U.S. national debt is limited to $12.1 trillion, etc. How can one picture that much of anything? Let’s imagine we have a machine which can take us back in time as far as we want to go. We can set it for any amount of time we choose, go back that far, and see where we land. Suppose we start with one billion seconds. Will we open the door on last week, last month, five years ago – When? Close the door, set the dial, push the button, and when the shaking stops, open the door. Welcome to April, 1977! Jimmy Carter became president in January, Star Wars will open next month, a gallon of gas will set you back 64 cents, and Elvis has about four months to live. Suppose we set the dial for one billion minutes and try again. Will we m

Say It Ain't So, Joe

The World Series of 1919 between the Chicago White Sox and the Cincinnati Reds generated 50% more revenue than any prior series. It was such a big event, with so much money flowing around, that if someone could actually know the outcome beforehand, they could make a pretty tidy profit . Enter the gamblers. They approached White Sox players, Pitcher Ed Cicotte and First Baseman Arnold "Chick" Gandil, about fixing the Series. After talking to a few other players, Cicotte and Gandil managed to enlist six other players in their scheme to make Cincinnati the winner. Among those approached was left fielder “Shoeless” Joe Jackson, one of the best hitters to play the game. “Shoeless” Joe finished with a .356 career average (third all time), and in the .last years before Babe Ruth took over the sport, he was arguably the most popular player ever. A sure-fire Hall-of-Famer. While reportedly "Acknowledging that he had let up in key situations," Jackson’s performance dur

Lead Us Not Into Temptation - Please

At one time I worked with a man who had been a big league pitcher. For the few years he was in the game, he had accumulated a very impressive record. With two World Series rings to his credit, the future looked bright, until one night his arm gave out in the middle of an inning. This was before the days of “Tommy John” surgery, and while he made a few more starts, his career was over. During his time in baseball, he had acquired a heavy drinking habit. When I knew him he was deeply into a process which he will need to continue for the rest of his life: recovery. He talked freely about his illness. At one point I asked him how he had started his drinking career. His story is that starting professional baseball players are often kids not long out of high school. They are away from home for weeks and months at a time, have lots of money in their pockets, and lots of time on their hands. On the road they stay in hotels which have bars; sensing money, young women are easily available.

The Horse May Know The Way Home, But...

If you live in certain areas of the United States I am sure you are familiar with the following situation. If you have never had this experience, try to picture it. You are driving along a country road at night, when you see a bright orange triangle and two flashing red lights ahead of you. You quickly realize that you have come upon a  horse and buggy. Your opportunity to pass is dependent upon 1.) the existence of a straightaway ahead (which you cannot see – it’s dark, remember), and 2.) there is no oncoming traffic. Finally you take a chance and speed around the vehicle. Now let me change the picture a bit. A cop is driving along a country road at  night, and sees a bright orange triangle and two flashing red lights ahead. In this case the horse is meandering slowly down the center line. There is no opportunity to pass. It happened recently in Lancaster County . While his passenger stopped the horse and held it, the officer approached the buggy and found the driver slumped

The Day That Changed The World

The first Sunday in December was warm for the season. Our family had planned for it to be a special day, but little did we know just how special it would turn out to be. We were having one of our occasional family gatherings at my Grandparents’ farm. Since we got together only a few times a year, this would be a very exciting day. My parents and I didn’t often get to see Uncle Ross and his family, Uncle Ralph, and Aunt Dorothy and her family (cousin Dale was only a toddler, a little over two years old). As usual, Grandma had made far too much food, including a roast turkey and a baked ham, mashed potatoes and gravy, candied sweet potatoes, corn, peas, green beans, a sour salad (Grandpa always liked something sour with every meal), and pie and cake for dessert. The wonderful odors alone literally made my mouth water. As the saying goes, the table was groaning with all the food, and by the time the meal was finished, so was everyone at the table. There was no running water in the h

The First Snowfall of the Season

This morning the grass was covered in white – the first snowfall of the season. Actually it started as a rain/snow mixture late yesterday afternoon, and accumulated only an inch or two on the non-paved areas. Not too bad – it eases us gradually into winter. You may have guessed that I am not a big fan of cold weather. It may seem strange, but the first thing I think of when I see new-fallen snow is the Claude Thornhill recording of his theme , "Snowfall."Although I like his version, the Manhattan Transfer version is my favorite. I don’t know why, but for some reason, perhaps it’s the harmony, I tend to puddle up when I hear it. Somehow it brings back, not particular memories, but emotions of days long, long, lonnnggg ago. After the emotions, the memories flood in: sledding on the hill northwest of the farm where I lived with my grandparents, followed by putting my cold feet up on the warm part of the old coal stove; my first and only venture onto skis; the Christmas ev

They Grow Them Big Today

Last night my old high school football team won the championship of their division for the 16 th time. Of course, I feel very good about this, but team statistics raised a question for me: Why are these guys so big? When I went to high school many years ago, we had one or two people in our class who were six feet tall. Only a few students, who were considered to be “fat,” weighed 200 pounds. Compare this with the current football team’s statistics. There are several boys on the team who are 6’4” or 6’5” tall. Almost all the players are close to 6’. As to weight, the five linemen from tackle to tackle average 270 pounds. 270 pounds! Two of them, 6’4” tall, tip the scales at 310 pounds. And they do not look fat. Many college teams would love to field a line that size. Why the difference? According to my online investigation, there are three factors: 1.)                           Demographics. The boys live in an area where the population density is low compared to the resource

KISS - Keep It Simple, Stupid

I have been elected to the post of treasurer of the Residents’ Council at Luther Acres. It will be my job to keep track of the receipts and disbursements of the council’s funds. Each month I will also be expected to report to the council on the financial activities for the prior period. I have already received some feedback on the format of the monthly report; the gist of it is that it is too complicated. The residents say they are old people, inexperienced in financial terminology, and as a result I need to keep it simple. What complicates matters is that the Executive Committee of the Council needs to see where they are in relation to the budget which is set up at the beginning of the year. And it seems to be the budget that is confusing the main council. I have some ideas about what to do, and I shall try them out, first at the Executive Committee meeting, and if approved there, at the general council meeting. As so many things seem to do lately, this situation appears, at l

An Evening's Entertainment

Last night I attended a program performed by the Barynya Russian Dance Ensemble . Because I am not really into Russian music and dancing, I was not expecting too much, but I was very pleasantly surprised by the whole performance. Of course the music was stereotypically Russian: almost all was in the minor key, and much of it, particularly the accompaniment for the dance routines started slowly and gradually picked up tempo. The dances also were typical, with much strutting, stomping, high kicking and deep knee bending – enough to make a post-youth sigh with envy. And among the ladies there was also the usual high-kicking and full-skirt swirling. I can’t help but appreciate the talent, strength and stamina of the performers. The costumes, both men’s and women’s were gorgeous – bright colors in all kinds of combinations and designs. For me the highlight of the evening was the balalaika playing of Lina Karokhina , originally from Saint Petersburg , but now living in Boston . The b

Nobody Is Wrong All The Time

Huzzah! My book is finally the way I want it, and is available. If you are interested, please check out the sidebar on the right. Perhaps I can now get back to normal blogging. I am going to do something that all respectable conservatives, and unfortunately many liberals, think is a no-no: accept some arguments from the other (conservative) side. While I still think a single payer plan would be the way to go on healthcare, the chances of getting that through the legislature are slim to none. (By the way, why do “slim” chance and “fat” chance mean the same thing: practically “zero” chance? Should not they be opposites?) But I digress. So in order to keep from letting “perfect” be the enemy of “good,” I need to wrap my head around the 2,000+ pages now being debated in the Senate. But I think that the right has some suggestions that should be included in the bill: 1.)                           Tort reform. A victim of malpractice should receive full reimbursement for out-of-pocket