Do you have "female troubles"? Take a soak in the Suwanee Springs.
Thursday, October 27, 2005
Live Oak?
Okay, this week I made my first trip to Northern Florida. I flew into Jacksonville and drove for about an hour west to Lake City (where I'm staying). The radio had dozens of channels but only offered two things: country music or bible bashing religious spew. I have finally found a place where there are more churches than Happy Valley. This area seems quite removed from the rest of the hustle and bustle of city/town, USA. For starters, there are few places to eat which tells me that people don't eat out much. For lunch the other day we went to this cafe where I was told that the old timers meet EVERY morning at dawn to discuss any and all issues related to Live Oak. People are really nice here and very down to earth.
My days are pretty predicable; I get up, drive to the Water District, work, find a place to eat dinner, call the family, exercise for a while and go to bed.
Today during the lunch hour the folks that I'm working with took me to the Suwanee River. Very pretty and serene. Do you know who Steven Foster is? He is the author of the famous song "The Swanee River (Old Folks at Home). Looking for the words of the song, I found another interesting thing. The song is THE official song of Florida. Well, here you go:
My days are pretty predicable; I get up, drive to the Water District, work, find a place to eat dinner, call the family, exercise for a while and go to bed.
Today during the lunch hour the folks that I'm working with took me to the Suwanee River. Very pretty and serene. Do you know who Steven Foster is? He is the author of the famous song "The Swanee River (Old Folks at Home). Looking for the words of the song, I found another interesting thing. The song is THE official song of Florida. Well, here you go:
The Swanee River
(Old Folks at Home)
Written by Stephen C. Foster
Way down upon de Swanee Ribber,
Far, far away,
Dere's wha my heart is turning ebber,
Dere's wha de old folks stay.
All up and down de whole creation
Sadly I roam,
Still longing for de old plantation,
And for de old folks at home.
Chorus
All de world am sad and dreary,
Eb-rywhere I roam;
Oh, darkeys, how my heart grows weary,
Far from de old folks at home!
2nd verse
All round de little farm I wandered
When I was young,
Den many happy days I squandered,
Many de songs I sung.
When I was playing wid my brudder
Happy was I;
Oh, take me to my kind old mudder!
Dere let me live and die.
3rd Verse
One little hut among de bushes,
One dat I love
Still sadly to my memory rushes,
No matter where I rove.
When will I see de bees a-humming
All round de comb?
When will I hear de banjo strumming,
Down in my good old home?
Lost Vegas
After the advanced course in Utah, it was off to Lost Wages. The hotel where we have held courses in the past was under renovation. It's converting to a Hooter's hotel. Sweet! So we went with a nearby hotel. Not very good. The attendees had NOTHING good to say about it. Probably the two highlights of the week was 1) spending the week with a longtime colleague, Mike Kennard. He and I have had a handful of trianing experiences, including our trip to Cairo several years ago. The other highlight was visiting worlds tallest and largest volume chocolate fountain. This is located in the Belagio hotel. Yum yum!
No New Orleans
After the damage of Katrina, we had to move our GMS advanced course somewhere else. I was disappointed that I wouldn't be taking my wife to all of my favorite eating establishments in NO. I don't know of a better place for good food and good music. I decided to have the class near our office. That was nice since I would be traveling quite a bit over the next several weeks. It is always good to see friends come back for additional training and help. One of these friends is my friend Alan from Pennsylvania. He brought his wife out to Utah for the first time. After the course, Marcella and I had the pleasure of taking the two of them downtown SLC. We walked around Temple Square and the visitors centers. The tabernacle is under construction right now but they loved the Christus statue.
The highlight of the evening was taking a tour of the LDS conference center. What a marvelous building. One of (if not the largest auditorium) in the US. Although I've been in the building several times I've never taken a tour. What a treat. What an opportunity for Marcella and I to share the gospel with Alan and Leslie.
The highlight of the evening was taking a tour of the LDS conference center. What a marvelous building. One of (if not the largest auditorium) in the US. Although I've been in the building several times I've never taken a tour. What a treat. What an opportunity for Marcella and I to share the gospel with Alan and Leslie.
Wednesday, October 26, 2005
Wednesday, October 19, 2005
Stingrays, shells, shrimp, and pottery
Okay, I am determined to keep writing. I've been up past midnight working for the past three nights. I'm making plans to go to Australia and trying to get a bunch of work stuff done. I know that I have to log my Holland trip, my Hawaii trip AND also say something about our family trip to Sandpoint. Oh well.
This week I'm back in Panama City, FL. Before I came here I told the townsfolk to get out their Tiki gods and make sure no hurricanes would show up here. Things looked good until today. Now Wilma, the 12th hurricane and 21st named storm, is now heading up the Gulf still unsure of its path. No worries here.
At any rate, I've been working with a consulting group here this week and this afternoon we set out on Joel's boat to do some field work. I'm bugged that I left my camera at home. I could have taken some very cool pictures. Well, we never actually made it to the project site but we did do some cool things. First they took me to Shell Island. Guess where it got its name? I gathered several shells to take home and give to people at the office. Next we drove across the bay (East Bay). Beautiful sunny day. Then Joel took us to the back side of Tyndall Air Force Base. We anchored the boat in about 3 feet of water. We then got out and walked close to the shore. In this warm water, there was lots to see and lots to be VERY careful about. First there were the stingrays. There were enough of them to keep you on your toes. They are fun to watch but don't step on them. Next, there were the shrimp. TONS of them. All over the place. They swim around your feet and are so fast. Really the only way to catch them is with a net. There are also dangerous oyster clusters on the sand that will rip your feet open if you happen to step on them. I had a nice sized jellyfish between my legs. I didn't see any aligators but they are around in plenty of numbers. So why come here? Besides the pristine nature, and beautiful scenery what we were searching for was pottery. Pottery? Huh? Because of the recent hurricanes, the shore and beach fronts have been greatly eroded. So we started digging and found several pieces. Now, how old are these pieces? It's hard to say. The pieces are attributed to the Woodland Phase Indians. I know very little about this group of people but it was cool to find pieces of pottery that was hundreds (if not thousands of years old).
At any rate, what an interesting afternoon. Thanks, Joel.
This week I'm back in Panama City, FL. Before I came here I told the townsfolk to get out their Tiki gods and make sure no hurricanes would show up here. Things looked good until today. Now Wilma, the 12th hurricane and 21st named storm, is now heading up the Gulf still unsure of its path. No worries here.
At any rate, I've been working with a consulting group here this week and this afternoon we set out on Joel's boat to do some field work. I'm bugged that I left my camera at home. I could have taken some very cool pictures. Well, we never actually made it to the project site but we did do some cool things. First they took me to Shell Island. Guess where it got its name? I gathered several shells to take home and give to people at the office. Next we drove across the bay (East Bay). Beautiful sunny day. Then Joel took us to the back side of Tyndall Air Force Base. We anchored the boat in about 3 feet of water. We then got out and walked close to the shore. In this warm water, there was lots to see and lots to be VERY careful about. First there were the stingrays. There were enough of them to keep you on your toes. They are fun to watch but don't step on them. Next, there were the shrimp. TONS of them. All over the place. They swim around your feet and are so fast. Really the only way to catch them is with a net. There are also dangerous oyster clusters on the sand that will rip your feet open if you happen to step on them. I had a nice sized jellyfish between my legs. I didn't see any aligators but they are around in plenty of numbers. So why come here? Besides the pristine nature, and beautiful scenery what we were searching for was pottery. Pottery? Huh? Because of the recent hurricanes, the shore and beach fronts have been greatly eroded. So we started digging and found several pieces. Now, how old are these pieces? It's hard to say. The pieces are attributed to the Woodland Phase Indians. I know very little about this group of people but it was cool to find pieces of pottery that was hundreds (if not thousands of years old).
At any rate, what an interesting afternoon. Thanks, Joel.
Lost my SMF
Okay, I am finally writing about my trip to Sacramento. Just a few months late but I was thinking about it the other day and I completely forgot about the highlight of the trip. First off, I went there to teach a bunch of regulators about groundwater modeling. The course was set up by a third-party organization. I knew that I was off on the wrong foot when I kept thinking the course was in Seattle. I was excited to go because a good friend of mine (at least I thought he was a good friend) lived just outside of Sactown (at least I thought it was just outside). The course went well. I had a nice lunch in Old Town sitting next to these two old ladies. I ate at this Japanese place a couple of times and it was scrumptious. I do NOT recommend staying in the downtown Holiday Inn Express. Although they had a decent gym and bananas and juice for breakfast, they did NOT have curtains over the windows so that it was light in my room ALL NIGHT LONG. Anyhow, a couple of nights I went to see my buddy, Sean Kelly who lives in Lodi. Lodi is in the freakin' middle of nowhere. I'm told that they now have an In-n-Out. It was good to see him and his family and I even brought my basketball gear and played one night at his Church. It was fun.
Okay, here is the most memorable part of the trip. On Saturday it was time to go to the airport. I start driving and I'm just about there when I start looking around for the terminal and car return place. There are very little cars around and I think it very strange. I then saw a plane fly over so I knew it must be close. I drove around the airstrip looking for the terminal. I would say after about 20 minutes or so, it hit me like a ton of bricks. I WAS AT THE WRONG AIRPORT!!!! I had driven to some freight type airport (UPS, DHL, etc). I had NO idea where the airport was? How was that possible???? Anyhow, I called my Skymiles rep and explained the small problem. She was based out of SLC and she quickly changed my flight to the next one out (luckily it was only about an hour and half later) and gave me directions to the airport. I just couldn't beleive that I had done that? I called my wife and explained that I'd be home a bit later. She just laughed.
Anyhow, hopefully the next time I'm in Sactown, I'll pay more attention to where I'm going.
Okay, here is the most memorable part of the trip. On Saturday it was time to go to the airport. I start driving and I'm just about there when I start looking around for the terminal and car return place. There are very little cars around and I think it very strange. I then saw a plane fly over so I knew it must be close. I drove around the airstrip looking for the terminal. I would say after about 20 minutes or so, it hit me like a ton of bricks. I WAS AT THE WRONG AIRPORT!!!! I had driven to some freight type airport (UPS, DHL, etc). I had NO idea where the airport was? How was that possible???? Anyhow, I called my Skymiles rep and explained the small problem. She was based out of SLC and she quickly changed my flight to the next one out (luckily it was only about an hour and half later) and gave me directions to the airport. I just couldn't beleive that I had done that? I called my wife and explained that I'd be home a bit later. She just laughed.
Anyhow, hopefully the next time I'm in Sactown, I'll pay more attention to where I'm going.
Monday, October 10, 2005
Orvil and Maxine Davis
My aunts are putting together this book to give my Grandma. I've been putting off the requested materials for several months now. This weekend I finally sent the family picture, I helped my son put together the family group sheet, and last night I wrote down some of my memories of them. Afterwards, I thought that it would be a good thing to post here. So.....
Being the oldest grandson of Orvil and Maxine Davis, I have close to 39 years of fond memories of my grandparents. More importantly, besides the memories I have lots of life's lessons that I an attribute to both of them.
Since for the first several year of my life, my family lived in Southern California. I remember any visits from Grandma and Grandpa for birthdays, baptisms and blessings. When they weren't coming down to visit we would be traveling to Utah to visit them.
Christmas time was especially memorable. Everything about their home spoke of Christmas time. The window paintings, the gingerbread houses, and all of the other decorations. Of course there was always the tradition of doing the nativity scene in Grandma's living room.
One of my most memorable visits is when I got to spend a few weeks one summer at Grandma and Grandpa's home. I think I was probably 9 or 10 and it was such a memorable time. I spent many hours irrigating the pasture and yard with Grandpa. The big black boots barely stayed on. I was fascinated how this whole irrigating thing worked. I can really say that to some extent, those days spent with Grandpa created that desire to become and engineer (a water engineer no less). It wasn't easy (irrigating) and I learned to work hard. Pulling the pipe around, hooking things up, and moving the boards ONLY when Grandpa said it was time. Grandpa taught me the value of work.
Besides playing in the water, I also had "fun" weeding the garden, picking fruit, snipping beans, and canning everything you could think of. I am just amazed at how much we did and how much we could accomplish when we all worked together. It is just something my children will never know or understand. Today seems so far distant from those days of canning and bottling.
Grandpa is THE person that taught me how to milk a cow, how to feed the farm animals, and what it meant to have a farm. No one else taught me that.
Grandma did her share of teaching too. From her I learned how to make yummy bread, yummy strawberry jam, and of course the best homemade ice cream. Like I said before, it just seems so far in the past the days of skimming the cream off the gallon jars of milk (that you helped milk earlier in the day).
Another fond memory that I have of my Grandpa is that every time we visited, he would give me and my sister some kind of notebook. You know those red spelling tablets or maybe one of those green stenographer books. My grandparents always wanted us to study hard and learn and do our best. I bet Grandpa handed out hundreds if not thousands of those spelling tablets. I loved the cool unit conversions and facts that the tablets had on the backs of them.
Family was always so important to Grandma and Grandpa. We got together often. Birthdays, Easter, Memorial Day, 4th of July, 24th of July, and of course Thanksgiving and Christmas.
I learned the tradition of visiting the graves on Memorial Day of all of these relatives (many of whom I had never met). Grandpa and Grandma would tell stories about these people because they thought it was important that we knew about it. That had an impact on my life and now I continue that with my own family and tell stories to my children about my relatives that have passed on. Get togethers weren't just limited to just cousins, aunts and uncles. At least twice a year we would get together with Grandpa and Grandma's extended family. This usually was on the morning of the 24th of July (up at Canyon Glen park for breakfast) and then on the 26th of December at some school. Grandma and Grandpa taught me the importance of family and remembering our ancestors.
Another fond memory that I had with Grandma and Grandpa is spending the week of the 4th of July down at Clear Creek. Last year I had the opportunity to spend a couple of days at the same Alpine School District with my son, Jake. Boy, a flood of memories came back. Each family would stay in a cabin. I usually got to bring a friend. There were games, lots of crafts (like shrinky-dinks) and of course the campfires and weenie roasts. None of this wouldn't have happened without Grandpa and Grandma. After several years of going to Clear Creek we started going up above Heber City. This was more of the camping experience and there were lots of fond memories those years as well. When I close me eyes I can easily picture everyone gathered around Grandpa and Grandma with everyone wearing their Camp Davis t-shirt.
The last memory that I wanted to recount (I think I have gone on long enough) is the famous Easter tree story. One Easter weekend, we had gone up to the foothills about Grandpa's house for a weenie roast. After eating and playing around in the hills, the teenagers wanted to go back to the house. So we walked down the hill. On the way, we found an old dried up Christmas tree someone had dumped in the fields. I got the great idea of taking it to the house. I thought it would be so funny to put the tree up in Grandma's living room and decorate it. So we did. It became a lovely Easter tree. Imagine Grandma's face when she returned to see this dried up tree in her living room. We laughed so hard and we will always remember that Easter. I do not believe there has ever been such a tree. There were probably many other pranks pulled over the years but I will always remember that one.
Grandpa and Grandma, I love you and I'm grateful for all that you have taught me.
Jeff
Being the oldest grandson of Orvil and Maxine Davis, I have close to 39 years of fond memories of my grandparents. More importantly, besides the memories I have lots of life's lessons that I an attribute to both of them.
Since for the first several year of my life, my family lived in Southern California. I remember any visits from Grandma and Grandpa for birthdays, baptisms and blessings. When they weren't coming down to visit we would be traveling to Utah to visit them.
Christmas time was especially memorable. Everything about their home spoke of Christmas time. The window paintings, the gingerbread houses, and all of the other decorations. Of course there was always the tradition of doing the nativity scene in Grandma's living room.
One of my most memorable visits is when I got to spend a few weeks one summer at Grandma and Grandpa's home. I think I was probably 9 or 10 and it was such a memorable time. I spent many hours irrigating the pasture and yard with Grandpa. The big black boots barely stayed on. I was fascinated how this whole irrigating thing worked. I can really say that to some extent, those days spent with Grandpa created that desire to become and engineer (a water engineer no less). It wasn't easy (irrigating) and I learned to work hard. Pulling the pipe around, hooking things up, and moving the boards ONLY when Grandpa said it was time. Grandpa taught me the value of work.
Besides playing in the water, I also had "fun" weeding the garden, picking fruit, snipping beans, and canning everything you could think of. I am just amazed at how much we did and how much we could accomplish when we all worked together. It is just something my children will never know or understand. Today seems so far distant from those days of canning and bottling.
Grandpa is THE person that taught me how to milk a cow, how to feed the farm animals, and what it meant to have a farm. No one else taught me that.
Grandma did her share of teaching too. From her I learned how to make yummy bread, yummy strawberry jam, and of course the best homemade ice cream. Like I said before, it just seems so far in the past the days of skimming the cream off the gallon jars of milk (that you helped milk earlier in the day).
Another fond memory that I have of my Grandpa is that every time we visited, he would give me and my sister some kind of notebook. You know those red spelling tablets or maybe one of those green stenographer books. My grandparents always wanted us to study hard and learn and do our best. I bet Grandpa handed out hundreds if not thousands of those spelling tablets. I loved the cool unit conversions and facts that the tablets had on the backs of them.
Family was always so important to Grandma and Grandpa. We got together often. Birthdays, Easter, Memorial Day, 4th of July, 24th of July, and of course Thanksgiving and Christmas.
I learned the tradition of visiting the graves on Memorial Day of all of these relatives (many of whom I had never met). Grandpa and Grandma would tell stories about these people because they thought it was important that we knew about it. That had an impact on my life and now I continue that with my own family and tell stories to my children about my relatives that have passed on. Get togethers weren't just limited to just cousins, aunts and uncles. At least twice a year we would get together with Grandpa and Grandma's extended family. This usually was on the morning of the 24th of July (up at Canyon Glen park for breakfast) and then on the 26th of December at some school. Grandma and Grandpa taught me the importance of family and remembering our ancestors.
Another fond memory that I had with Grandma and Grandpa is spending the week of the 4th of July down at Clear Creek. Last year I had the opportunity to spend a couple of days at the same Alpine School District with my son, Jake. Boy, a flood of memories came back. Each family would stay in a cabin. I usually got to bring a friend. There were games, lots of crafts (like shrinky-dinks) and of course the campfires and weenie roasts. None of this wouldn't have happened without Grandpa and Grandma. After several years of going to Clear Creek we started going up above Heber City. This was more of the camping experience and there were lots of fond memories those years as well. When I close me eyes I can easily picture everyone gathered around Grandpa and Grandma with everyone wearing their Camp Davis t-shirt.
The last memory that I wanted to recount (I think I have gone on long enough) is the famous Easter tree story. One Easter weekend, we had gone up to the foothills about Grandpa's house for a weenie roast. After eating and playing around in the hills, the teenagers wanted to go back to the house. So we walked down the hill. On the way, we found an old dried up Christmas tree someone had dumped in the fields. I got the great idea of taking it to the house. I thought it would be so funny to put the tree up in Grandma's living room and decorate it. So we did. It became a lovely Easter tree. Imagine Grandma's face when she returned to see this dried up tree in her living room. We laughed so hard and we will always remember that Easter. I do not believe there has ever been such a tree. There were probably many other pranks pulled over the years but I will always remember that one.
Grandpa and Grandma, I love you and I'm grateful for all that you have taught me.
Jeff
Sunday, September 25, 2005
Black Saturday
Well, last night Marcella and I were invited to celebrate the big 40 of Kevin Gregory Carter. All week long I thought about the many memories that we have shared over the years. I got to share a few of those stories. I remember that Kevin (and Darren) were two of the first kids I met when my family moved from Huntington Beach to Sandy. Over the next few years there were many fun (and maybe stupid) times shared with my Ida Lane friends. We LOVED playing with fire. We pretty much figured out what was flamable. One day after playing in Kevin's garage lighting everything we opened up the garage door and all of this smoke piled out. I told the story when I lit the field on fire behind our neighborhood while Kevin and Scott were trying to light a model rocket. I remember the countless times we would sleep over at Kevin's house and then go down to the Centre theater. We would clean the theater and then going exploring. We would spend the entire Saturday running around downtown SLC. I CANNOT imagine letting my kids do that. Then we would ride the UTA bus back to Sandy for a whopping 10 cents. Kevin loved Spyra Gyra and the Doobie Brothers. I found him a Best of CD at target and a box of matches. I went to Kevin's mom's funeral, I was there at his wedding (just a day or two before mine) and I'm glad that he's back here in Utah County. His son, KJ, and JJ go to the same junior high school. Last year Kevin decided to leave the corporate world to start Inspiricpics. Happy Birthday, friend.
Wednesday, September 21, 2005
Thursday, September 15, 2005
Random Thoughts
Well, I've been thinking about a bunch of things that I should blog about. I get excited to write in the morning but then I get too busy and then it's late at night and I'm tired. I should write more but at least I'm writing.
These thoughts are not in any specific order.
Thought 1:
Since I went on my diet/exercise kick 7 months ago I have lost over 30 pounds. I need to post another picture showing the much slimmer/trimmer me. Oh, someday.
Thought 2:
I STILL need to blog about my Sacramento trip, Holland, and Hawaii. Dang! It's been so long I wonder if it's even worth it.
Thought 3:
My buddy, Norm, sent me this link the other day about some guy in Germany that powers his car using dead cats. So all week long while driving to work, every time I see a dead cat on the road I've thought, "Dang, gas is so expensive!" The German needs to come here because there are 4 or 5 cats on the way to work splattered on the road.
Thought 4:
So I'm thinking about these roadside cats-for-fuel thing and then I seem something which to me seems pretty strange. Near the onramp for the Alpine/Highland exit they have been doing lots of construction for the past several months. Most of it has been for the Cabelas that just opened up. Anyhow, as I was passing this big bulldozer the driver stepped out of the cab. It was a young, blonde, tight t-shirt wearing woman. I thought that was pretty strange. I bet she is pretty popular at work.
Thought 5:
This is really why I wanted to blog this morning. Since my lovely wife had been confined to the bed/couch (she calls me the prison warden btw), Olive and I have had good quality time this week traveling back and forth from Highland to South Jordan. She is such a sweetheart. Each
morning and afternoon we rock out to various songs on daddy's iPod. She can pick out the song usually within a note or two. It doesn't matter what it is, she loves to sing with daddy. We listen to Big & Rich, Enrique, Frankie Goes to Hollywood, Everclear, LeAnn Rimes, you name it. What a treat. I tried to play some Billy Squier this morning. She didn't like it.
Well that's it. No more thoughts (except ones that involve my pillow)
These thoughts are not in any specific order.
Thought 1:
Since I went on my diet/exercise kick 7 months ago I have lost over 30 pounds. I need to post another picture showing the much slimmer/trimmer me. Oh, someday.
Thought 2:
I STILL need to blog about my Sacramento trip, Holland, and Hawaii. Dang! It's been so long I wonder if it's even worth it.
Thought 3:
My buddy, Norm, sent me this link the other day about some guy in Germany that powers his car using dead cats. So all week long while driving to work, every time I see a dead cat on the road I've thought, "Dang, gas is so expensive!" The German needs to come here because there are 4 or 5 cats on the way to work splattered on the road.
Thought 4:
So I'm thinking about these roadside cats-for-fuel thing and then I seem something which to me seems pretty strange. Near the onramp for the Alpine/Highland exit they have been doing lots of construction for the past several months. Most of it has been for the Cabelas that just opened up. Anyhow, as I was passing this big bulldozer the driver stepped out of the cab. It was a young, blonde, tight t-shirt wearing woman. I thought that was pretty strange. I bet she is pretty popular at work.
Thought 5:
This is really why I wanted to blog this morning. Since my lovely wife had been confined to the bed/couch (she calls me the prison warden btw), Olive and I have had good quality time this week traveling back and forth from Highland to South Jordan. She is such a sweetheart. Each
morning and afternoon we rock out to various songs on daddy's iPod. She can pick out the song usually within a note or two. It doesn't matter what it is, she loves to sing with daddy. We listen to Big & Rich, Enrique, Frankie Goes to Hollywood, Everclear, LeAnn Rimes, you name it. What a treat. I tried to play some Billy Squier this morning. She didn't like it.
Well that's it. No more thoughts (except ones that involve my pillow)
Wednesday, September 14, 2005
Traverse Mountain: For the past few Saturdays this has been my challenge. First I ran to the top and back (about 8 miles or so) and the next Saturday, my buddy, Tim, took me up the top by riding our bikes and then once on top we rode trail after trail. It was beautiful but I was dang tired (and sore) after the 3+ hour trek. I wonder how long we will be able to enjoy such beautiful country.
Friday, September 09, 2005
Robert Tracinski revisited
A few days ago I sent an article by Robert Tracinski. I was very interested in the responses from all of you and so I thought I would share with all of you some of the responses. I really do
appreciate the thought and sentiment you all expressed.
Amen (I actually got several responses like this)
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What do you want me to say? Another right-wing bigot flaps his gums. This was my favorite quote:
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Well, I think it is way too early to make generalities about what exactly went wrong (if you can even pinpoint it to a certain thing)--but I think that when all is said and done, there will be plenty of blame to go around as far as whose at fault. I'm not sure I agree with the author's assertion that the welfare state is ultimately at fault, and his intimation that most people on welfare are parasites sucking the system dry... I actually think that's a bit of a crass generalization. The more I read about some of these people who were caught down there, the more I think about how much they're caught up in a cruel cycle... it's easy for us to say "well, if you work hard enough, you can accomplish anything"--partticularly those of us that have had the relative comfort of a middle class up bringing... but if the more I read some of these people's stories, the more I wonder if that sentiment is applicable across the spectrum. I think there are some true barriers for some of these people to improve their stations in life...whether it be a child being born into an environment that makes it inconducive to actually getting a decent education, or the fact that their parents are unable to make a sufficiently decent living to provide such conducive environment.
That said, do I think the answer is the welfare state the author derides? Not necessarily... but I think that saying the welfare state is the end-all of the problem is trite and dogmatic... see the below article for some of the stories of people that didn't make it out... they don't really sound like welfare parasites to me...they just sound like people who were trying to get by and didn't have any other choice but to hang out.
http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2005/09/03/AR2005090301508.html
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In my humble opinion, Robert here has it dead on, and political correctness is not allowing for an honest discussion of what truly went wrong.
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Re article, there may be an element of truth to the main message. Its no secret the NO has been a magnet for criminal activity for years, but it most likely presents an inaccurate picture to paint the general populace with the same brush as a few hundred/thousand criminals.
Besides, even normal or otherwise well adjusted people will do the unexpected when under tress or in shock. Its really ugly there, but your profession has been telling people for a long time that NO was a disaster waiting to happen.
Wednesday, September 07, 2005
Robert Tracinski
Until tonight, I have never heard of this guy. My Aunt sent me his article which I post (and hopefully properly credit) in its entirety. I want this somewhere where I can read it again:
An Unnatural Disaster: A Hurricane Exposes the Man-Made Disaster of the Welfare State
An Objectivist Review
by Robert Tracinski | The Intellectual Activist
September 2, 2005
It has taken four long days for state and federal officials to figure out how to deal with the disaster in New Orleans. I can't blame them, because it has also taken me four long days to figure out what is going on there. The reason is that the events there make no sense if you think that we are confronting a natural disaster.
If this is just a natural disaster, the response for public officials is
obvious: you bring in food, water, and doctors; you send transportation to evacuate refugees to temporary shelters; you send engineers to stop the flooding and rebuild the city's infrastructure. For journalists, natural disasters also have a familiar pattern: the heroism of ordinary people pulling together to survive; the hard work and dedication of doctors, nurses, and rescue workers; the steps being taken to clean up and rebuild.
Public officials did not expect that the first thing they would have to do is to send thousands of armed troops in armored vehicle, as if they are suppressing an enemy insurgency. And journalists--myself included--did not expect that the story would not be about rain, wind, and flooding, but about rape, murder, and looting.
But this is not a natural disaster. It is a man-made disaster.
The man-made disaster is not an inadequate or incompetent response by federal relief agencies, and it was not directly caused by Hurricane Katrina. This is where just about every newspaper and television channel has gotten the story wrong.
The man-made disaster we are now witnessing in New Orleans did not happen over the past four days. It happened over the past four decades. Hurricane Katrina merely exposed it to public view.
The man-made disaster is the welfare state.
For the past few days, I have found the news from New Orleans to be confusing. People were not behaving as you would expect them to behave in an emergency--indeed, they were not behaving as they have behaved in other emergencies. That is what has shocked so many people: they have been saying that this is not what we expect from America. In fact, it is not even what we expect from a Third World country.
When confronted with a disaster, people usually rise to the occasion. They work together to rescue people in danger, and they spontaneously organize to keep order and solve problems. This is especially true in America. We are an enterprising people, used to relying on our own initiative rather than waiting around for the government to take care of us. I have seen this a hundred times, in small examples (a small town whose main traffic light had gone out, causing ordinary citizens to get out of their cars and serve as impromptu traffic cops, directing cars through the intersection) and large ones (the spontaneous response of New Yorkers to September 11).
So what explains the chaos in New Orleans?
To give you an idea of the magnitude of what is going on, here is a description from a Washington Times story:
"Storm victims are raped and beaten; fights erupt with flying fists, knives and guns; fires are breaking out; corpses litter the streets; and police and rescue helicopters are repeatedly fired on.
"The plea from Mayor C. Ray Nagin came even as National Guardsmen poured in to restore order and stop the looting, carjackings and gunfire....
"Last night, Gov. Kathleen Babineaux Blanco said 300 Iraq-hardened Arkansas National Guard members were inside New Orleans with shoot-to-kill orders.
"'These troops are...under my orders to restore order in the streets,' she said. 'They have M-16s, and they are locked and loaded. These troops know how to shoot and kill and they are more than willing to do so if necessary and I expect they will.' "
The reference to Iraq is eerie. The photo that accompanies this article shows National Guard troops, with rifles and armored vests, riding on an armored vehicle through trash-strewn streets lined by a rabble of squalid, listless people, one of whom appears to be yelling at them. It looks exactly like a scene from Sadr City in Baghdad.
What explains bands of thugs using a natural disaster as an excuse for an orgy of looting, armed robbery, and rape? What causes unruly mobs to storm the very buses that have arrived to evacuate them, causing the drivers to drive away, frightened for their lives? What causes people to attack the doctors trying to treat patients at the Super Dome?
Why are people responding to natural destruction by causing further destruction? Why are they attacking the people who are trying to help them?
My wife, Sherri, figured it out first, and she figured it out on a sense-of-life level. While watching the coverage last night on Fox News Channel, she told me that she was getting a familiar feeling. She studied architecture at the Illinois Institute of Chicago, which is located in the South Side of Chicago just blocks away from the Robert Taylor Homes, one of the largest high-rise public housing projects in America. "The projects," as they were known, were infamous for uncontrollable crime and irremediable squalor. (They have since, mercifully, been demolished.)
What Sherri was getting from last night's television coverage was a whiff of the sense of life of "the projects." Then the "crawl"--the informational phrases flashed at the bottom of the screen on most news channels--gave some vital statistics to confirm this sense: 75% of the residents of New Orleans had already evacuated before the hurricane, and of the 300,000 or so who remained, a large number were from the city's public housing projects. Jack Wakeland then gave me an additional, crucial fact: early reports from CNN and Fox indicated that the city had no plan for evacuating all of the prisoners in the city's jails--so they just let many of them loose. There is no doubt a significant overlap between these two populations--that is, a large number of people in the jails used to live in the housing projects, and vice versa.
There were many decent, innocent people trapped in New Orleans when the deluge hit--but they were trapped alongside large numbers of people from two
groups: criminals--and wards of the welfare state, people selected, over decades, for their lack of initiative and self-induced helplessness. The welfare wards were a mass of sheep--on whom the incompetent administration of New Orleans unleashed a pack of wolves.
All of this is related, incidentally, to the apparent incompetence of the city government, which failed to plan for a total evacuation of the city, despite the knowledge that this might be necessary. But in a city corrupted by the welfare state, the job of city officials is to ensure the flow of handouts to welfare recipients and patronage to political supporters--not to ensure a lawful, orderly evacuation in case of emergency.
No one has really reported this story, as far as I can tell. In fact, some are already actively distorting it, blaming President Bush, for example, for failing to personally ensure that the Mayor of New Orleans had drafted an adequate evacuation plan. The worst example is an execrable piece from the Toronto Globe and Mail, by a supercilious Canadian who blames the chaos on American "individualism." But the truth is precisely the opposite: the chaos was caused by a system that was the exact opposite of individualism.
What Hurricane Katrina exposed was the psychological consequences of the welfare state. What we consider "normal" behavior in an emergency is behavior that is normal for people who have values and take the responsibility to pursue and protect them. People with values respond to a disaster by fighting against it and doing whatever it takes to overcome the difficulties they face. They don't sit around and complain that the government hasn't taken care of them. They don't use the chaos of a disaster as an opportunity to prey on their fellow men.
But what about criminals and welfare parasites? Do they worry about saving their houses and property? They don't, because they don't own anything. Do they worry about what is going to happen to their businesses or how they are going to make a living? They never worried about those things before. Do they worry about crime and looting? But living off of stolen wealth is a way of life for them.
The welfare state--and the brutish, uncivilized mentality it sustains and encourages--is the man-made disaster that explains the moral ugliness that has swamped New Orleans. And that is the story that no one is reporting.
An Unnatural Disaster: A Hurricane Exposes the Man-Made Disaster of the Welfare State
An Objectivist Review
by Robert Tracinski | The Intellectual Activist
September 2, 2005
It has taken four long days for state and federal officials to figure out how to deal with the disaster in New Orleans. I can't blame them, because it has also taken me four long days to figure out what is going on there. The reason is that the events there make no sense if you think that we are confronting a natural disaster.
If this is just a natural disaster, the response for public officials is
obvious: you bring in food, water, and doctors; you send transportation to evacuate refugees to temporary shelters; you send engineers to stop the flooding and rebuild the city's infrastructure. For journalists, natural disasters also have a familiar pattern: the heroism of ordinary people pulling together to survive; the hard work and dedication of doctors, nurses, and rescue workers; the steps being taken to clean up and rebuild.
Public officials did not expect that the first thing they would have to do is to send thousands of armed troops in armored vehicle, as if they are suppressing an enemy insurgency. And journalists--myself included--did not expect that the story would not be about rain, wind, and flooding, but about rape, murder, and looting.
But this is not a natural disaster. It is a man-made disaster.
The man-made disaster is not an inadequate or incompetent response by federal relief agencies, and it was not directly caused by Hurricane Katrina. This is where just about every newspaper and television channel has gotten the story wrong.
The man-made disaster we are now witnessing in New Orleans did not happen over the past four days. It happened over the past four decades. Hurricane Katrina merely exposed it to public view.
The man-made disaster is the welfare state.
For the past few days, I have found the news from New Orleans to be confusing. People were not behaving as you would expect them to behave in an emergency--indeed, they were not behaving as they have behaved in other emergencies. That is what has shocked so many people: they have been saying that this is not what we expect from America. In fact, it is not even what we expect from a Third World country.
When confronted with a disaster, people usually rise to the occasion. They work together to rescue people in danger, and they spontaneously organize to keep order and solve problems. This is especially true in America. We are an enterprising people, used to relying on our own initiative rather than waiting around for the government to take care of us. I have seen this a hundred times, in small examples (a small town whose main traffic light had gone out, causing ordinary citizens to get out of their cars and serve as impromptu traffic cops, directing cars through the intersection) and large ones (the spontaneous response of New Yorkers to September 11).
So what explains the chaos in New Orleans?
To give you an idea of the magnitude of what is going on, here is a description from a Washington Times story:
"Storm victims are raped and beaten; fights erupt with flying fists, knives and guns; fires are breaking out; corpses litter the streets; and police and rescue helicopters are repeatedly fired on.
"The plea from Mayor C. Ray Nagin came even as National Guardsmen poured in to restore order and stop the looting, carjackings and gunfire....
"Last night, Gov. Kathleen Babineaux Blanco said 300 Iraq-hardened Arkansas National Guard members were inside New Orleans with shoot-to-kill orders.
"'These troops are...under my orders to restore order in the streets,' she said. 'They have M-16s, and they are locked and loaded. These troops know how to shoot and kill and they are more than willing to do so if necessary and I expect they will.' "
The reference to Iraq is eerie. The photo that accompanies this article shows National Guard troops, with rifles and armored vests, riding on an armored vehicle through trash-strewn streets lined by a rabble of squalid, listless people, one of whom appears to be yelling at them. It looks exactly like a scene from Sadr City in Baghdad.
What explains bands of thugs using a natural disaster as an excuse for an orgy of looting, armed robbery, and rape? What causes unruly mobs to storm the very buses that have arrived to evacuate them, causing the drivers to drive away, frightened for their lives? What causes people to attack the doctors trying to treat patients at the Super Dome?
Why are people responding to natural destruction by causing further destruction? Why are they attacking the people who are trying to help them?
My wife, Sherri, figured it out first, and she figured it out on a sense-of-life level. While watching the coverage last night on Fox News Channel, she told me that she was getting a familiar feeling. She studied architecture at the Illinois Institute of Chicago, which is located in the South Side of Chicago just blocks away from the Robert Taylor Homes, one of the largest high-rise public housing projects in America. "The projects," as they were known, were infamous for uncontrollable crime and irremediable squalor. (They have since, mercifully, been demolished.)
What Sherri was getting from last night's television coverage was a whiff of the sense of life of "the projects." Then the "crawl"--the informational phrases flashed at the bottom of the screen on most news channels--gave some vital statistics to confirm this sense: 75% of the residents of New Orleans had already evacuated before the hurricane, and of the 300,000 or so who remained, a large number were from the city's public housing projects. Jack Wakeland then gave me an additional, crucial fact: early reports from CNN and Fox indicated that the city had no plan for evacuating all of the prisoners in the city's jails--so they just let many of them loose. There is no doubt a significant overlap between these two populations--that is, a large number of people in the jails used to live in the housing projects, and vice versa.
There were many decent, innocent people trapped in New Orleans when the deluge hit--but they were trapped alongside large numbers of people from two
groups: criminals--and wards of the welfare state, people selected, over decades, for their lack of initiative and self-induced helplessness. The welfare wards were a mass of sheep--on whom the incompetent administration of New Orleans unleashed a pack of wolves.
All of this is related, incidentally, to the apparent incompetence of the city government, which failed to plan for a total evacuation of the city, despite the knowledge that this might be necessary. But in a city corrupted by the welfare state, the job of city officials is to ensure the flow of handouts to welfare recipients and patronage to political supporters--not to ensure a lawful, orderly evacuation in case of emergency.
No one has really reported this story, as far as I can tell. In fact, some are already actively distorting it, blaming President Bush, for example, for failing to personally ensure that the Mayor of New Orleans had drafted an adequate evacuation plan. The worst example is an execrable piece from the Toronto Globe and Mail, by a supercilious Canadian who blames the chaos on American "individualism." But the truth is precisely the opposite: the chaos was caused by a system that was the exact opposite of individualism.
What Hurricane Katrina exposed was the psychological consequences of the welfare state. What we consider "normal" behavior in an emergency is behavior that is normal for people who have values and take the responsibility to pursue and protect them. People with values respond to a disaster by fighting against it and doing whatever it takes to overcome the difficulties they face. They don't sit around and complain that the government hasn't taken care of them. They don't use the chaos of a disaster as an opportunity to prey on their fellow men.
But what about criminals and welfare parasites? Do they worry about saving their houses and property? They don't, because they don't own anything. Do they worry about what is going to happen to their businesses or how they are going to make a living? They never worried about those things before. Do they worry about crime and looting? But living off of stolen wealth is a way of life for them.
The welfare state--and the brutish, uncivilized mentality it sustains and encourages--is the man-made disaster that explains the moral ugliness that has swamped New Orleans. And that is the story that no one is reporting.
Tuesday, August 30, 2005
Disaster relief
I've been searching the WWW all morning looking for news of other countries pledging to help with the disaster relief for the people suffering in the United States due to Hurricane Katrina. I'm not finding anything (nor do I expect to find squat).
Friday, August 26, 2005
Milk vs. Steroids
Recently a batboy for the Florida Marlins was suspended by the organization for 6 games for accepting a dare from an LA Dodger picture (Brad Penny). The dare was the old "I bet you can't drink a gallon of milk in less than an hour and note puke". Penny is quoted as saying "It's kind of ridiculous that you get a 10-game suspension for steroids and a 6-game suspension for milk".
I have to agree.
BTW, the batboy did drink all of the milk, didn't puke but didn't finish in the alloted 1 hour.
I have to agree.
BTW, the batboy did drink all of the milk, didn't puke but didn't finish in the alloted 1 hour.
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