Thanksgiving

As the year comes to a close, I saw a couple of quotes on gratitude that I thought were eloquent and worthy of repetition:



"Gratitude is the most exquisite form of courtesy." - Jacques Maritain



"My country gave me schooling, independence of action and opportunity for service. I am indebted to my country beyond any human power to repay." - Herbert Hoover



I was taught that the power of a thank you is in the description of that for which one is grateful and the reasons why.



Children are wont to throw a quick "thank you" or an even quicker "thanks" as they grab a gift or treat and run off to enjoy it. Far fewer are the times when we hear someone express their gratitude properly and fully.



I've told my children that a proper thank you is like a book report - it has to express to the listener the Who, What, When, Where, Why and How of the thanks.







Grandson opens the birthday card and sees the iTunes gift certificate for $15 and says:



Scenario 1: "Oh great! iTunes!!! Thanks Grandad."



Scenario 2: "Thank you Granddad for the iTunes gift card. I use my iPod all the time and I haven't had enough money to get the new Rascal Flatts songs that I like. Now I'll be able to buy those and some other new songs to listen to while I'm riding the bus to school. I was hoping to get one of these."



I'll admit that it's hard to remember to thank someone properly and even more difficult to get one's children to do so as well. But after a while it can become second nature.



Anyway, thanks for reading this blog...........

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Size Does Matter

I spent last weekend camping out with my son's Boy Scout Troop aboard the USS New Jersey. This masterpiece of naval architecture is the , fastest, strongest, longest and most decorated battleship in the world. She was born during WWII and was taken out of and put back into service a record 5 times. After serving off of Beirut in the 80's she was finally mothballed and then retired in Camden, NJ where she now patiently entertains thousands of fans and former colleaugues.

We learned how the big 16" 50 caliber guns (6 forward and 3 aft) accurately placed rounds the weight of a VW bug on target 26 miles away. We saw the batteries of dual 5" guns that only throw projectiles 10 miles away or 36,000 feet skyward (anti-aircraft), the Phalanx anti-missile / anti-aircraft systems and the quad batteries of Tomohawk Cruise Missiles.

Unfortunately, we weren't on board long enough to properly tend to the 6 on board museums, but I am sure we'll allocate time when we return; and we certainly will return.

The Battleship New Jersey accepts families, scout groups and other organizations for overnight encampments. They provide dinner, breakfast, a guilded tour and time in a flight simulator. Th docents were knowledgeable and pleasant and bunking in the Navy racks gave the kids something that they won't experience at Disneyland. I highly recommend it.

http://battleshipnewjersey.org 1-866-877-6262 extension 203 

Lucky Dog

I'm a lucky dog. Came out of that one clean.

No need to worry, I'm fully recovered now.

Please don't make a fuss. The surgery was a complete success.

Yes, it was a serious infection.

Yes, many people have died from it.

Yes, it could have been fatal.

But I'm fine. Really!

What did I have?

A Periapical infection and a root canal.

You see it is only by virtue of the fact that I was born in the US in 1958 that I'm alive. Had I been born 150 years ago or 150 miles south of the the border, it's quite possible that the infection would have gone untreated and I would quite possible have died.

Althouth the pain of the infection was excruciating (the root canal was a piece of cake by comparison), I never feared for my life. I knew that once I made the decision, I would have my pick of hundreds of trained medical practitioners who would operate on me and within a couple of days I would be back to normal.

How different the fate for so many people in so many far away places and times.

As I was recuperating I began to list the number of times that I was saved by the fortune of my birth place and time.

Well there's the fact that I was a 3.5 pound baby born 6 weeks premature. That's almost certainly curtains for most of the history and geography of the world.

Then there's the childhood bleeding disease that the doctors at first thought was hemophelia but later successfully treated with cortizone therapy.

Then there's the time I had infected tonsils and the time I fell off the cliff and the time in college when I had meningitis. Oh yeah and don't forget last year's dance with thyroid cancer.

Let's see, that's six times in my life where in other times and places I most certainly would have been that many feet under.

Perhaps I'm not a lucky dog. Perhaps I'm of the feline persuasion and I've got three more lives left to burn. 

Gone But Not Forgotten

On a recent trip to Budapest, our family stopped at the Communist Statue Park (graveyard). My children were raised on a steady diet of anti-communism, so it was interesting for them at an intellectual level.

But standing before these icons of an oppressive era thankfully gone by, I was struck by a tremendous sense of what I could only identify as nostalgia mixed with de ja vu.

Nostalgia:
Growing up in the 60's we learned to duck under our desks during the mock air raid drills. We cheered on the Mercury, Gemini and Apollo spacemen as they sought to best the Cosmonauts. We heard the body counts on the radio as young men came back from Vietnam in bags in the fight against Communist North Vietnam. We saw Communism spread across the globe from Peru to Nicaragua in our hemisphere to places like Ethiopia and Burma half a world away.

De Ja Vu:
I remember that there was a sense of invincibility about Communism in general and about the Soviet Union in particular. Nobody really thought you could beat the Soviet Union - they were too big, too committed AND they were everywhere. The Communists were pressing us everywhere. The only continent that seemed safe was Antarctica. The best we could hope to do is to appease and contain them.

Amazingly enough, we hear the same things today about Radical Islam.

They're too big.

Too committed.

And besides, they're everywhere. Muslims in Africa. Muslims in Asia. Muslims taking over Europe.

The best we can do is appease and contain them.

One day, my children will take my grandchildren to the new World Trade Center. They'll tell them how when they were growing up nobody thought that we'd be able to defeat Radical Islam. How they bombed us and killed our innocents. How we fought great wars to free enslaved peoples in their countries.

I'm sure at an intellectual level, my grandchildren will be interested.

But the sight won't stir their souls like it will for my children.

Just like it did for me when I saw this statue.

They Never Get It

A few weeks ago a terrorist was arrested in Germany. The police and intelligence agencies there found out that he was planning to blow up two commuter trains. I had just returned from Germany and read the reaction in the press. Everyone was shocked and amazed.

The terrorists are targeting Germany! But we're not the bad guys like America! We're good like France!

USA Today reported:

"Germany's refusal to take part in the U.S.-led war in Iraq once had Germans thinking Islamic terrorists would focus elsewhere, said Lesch's wife, Marita, 52, a teacher. "We didn't fight in Iraq, and until now we assumed that if we behaved well in the world, nothing would happen to us," she said.

Michael Lüders, a Middle East expert and government policy consultant, said, "Germany is reorienting its (foreign) policy. It did not call for an immediate cease-fire (during Israeli attacks) in Lebanon, and that was disappointing in the Arab world. Some radical forces now think Germany should be punished," he said."

This is an incredible rationalization of terrorism. In short, if Germany or the West doesn't toe the radical Muslim line, it will become a target. Neutrality is now not enough, activism on behalf of radical Muslism is the only way to avoid being an enemy.

The truth is that no matter what Germany or any of the other EU countries do, terrorism is now an unfortunate fact of life. Neutrality is not an option. Only vigilance and activism will serve to safeguard the West.

In 1972 Germany became the bed where the seeds of terrorism were planted. The German people thought that it was Israel's problem and have by and large sat idly by as the US, the UK and Israel have faced Radical Islam. Now these seeds have grown into weeds that are threatening to choke Germany. After 34 years, they still don't get it.

Central Synagogue Budapest

My sister Linda and I attended Sabbath services here at the Central Synagogue in Budapest. The grandeur of the architecture and the resplendent renovation only served as stark contrast to the declining Jewish population and scarce attendance. The Orthodox synagogue down the street, while a fraction of the size, had three times the attendance. In pre-war Hungary Jews made up 25% of the city's population. After the devastation of the Holocaust and subsequent emigration the community is barely a shadow of the vibrant community that lived here.

I don't have a dog in that fight

I'm in Amsterdam at a trade fair this week and have had the opportunity to walk around the town a bit. Today's trek took me through some of the many parks and green spaces that dot the cityscape.

I was impressed by the number and quality of the parks. I was impressed by the scores of people - both young and old, singles, couple and groups, eating, reading, walking and riding.

But what struck me most of all were the dogs.

Dogs of every kind, size, breed, sex and age.

Dogs laying at their owner's feet.

Dogs fetching thrown objects.

Dogs playing tug-of-war with each other for a stick.

Dogs wading and swimming.

Dogs pacing their running, trotting, walking and riding owners.

But not one of the dogs had a collar or a leash. Not one!

Perhaps this is in keeping with the ethos of a city that tolerates legal public drinking, marijuana smoking and prostitution.

Perhaps it was a coincidence.

Perhaps it was a sign of the coming of the Messiah.

My theory, however, is that in the absence of strict leash laws (like those that litter the law books of American towns and cities) dogs and owners learn to behave properly.

I think that the freedom to misbehave actually creates a more disciplined environment. Dogs and dog owners self-policed and created a situation that justifies the absence of leash laws.

Would it only be so in our society. If people would self regulate, governments would not feel compelled to legislate our every thought, word and deed.

With freedom comes responsibility.

With responsbility comes freedom.

God's Hot Dogs

A friend of mine and I were commiserating on the viscissitudes of business. I told him that I thought that his idea was brilliant and he said:

"If I'm so smart, why am I so broke?"

I've heard that in one form or another from others. Indeed, I've thought it myself on occasion.

The only answer that makes sense, is that smart and rich aren't necessarily connected. There are plenty of rich dummies and poor geniuses.

To take it a step farther, there are plenty of smart, good looking, poor people; and some good looking, poor ignoramuses. And the permutations get really interesting when you add in athleticism.

The only thing I can figure is that we're all God's little hot dogs. Money, good looks, intelligence, athleticism and other attributes that we desire are God's condiments.

Mustard doesn't cause ketchup, they only make periodic appearances together.

Just once I'd like to be a chili dog with the works.

Stupid Reporter

Molly Moore of the Washington Post has got to go back to school and learn some French. She obviously translated the comments of some poor frail French students incorrectly in yesterday's paper.

Just to give you some background on the article, and estimated 250,000 French students were protesting across France in response to a proposed change in the labor laws that would allow employers to fire, at will, any employee under 26 years old within the first 24 months of employment.

Here is what she quotes the students as having said about why they were protesting:

"They are offering us nothing but slavery."

"You'll get a job knowing that you've got to do every single thing they ask you to do because otherwise you may get sacked."

"I'd rather spend more time looking for a job and get a real one."

Certainly Moore got this all wrong. This has to be a mis-translation.

Even knowing the French, it's hard to believe that hundreds of thousands of French students are rioting because they might have to actually work at a job!

Sacre Bleu! Not work! This is "noting but slavery."

The real translation must be something like this:

"They're offering us nothing but unemployment. Liberalize the rules further so that companies can actually create some jobs here"

"I wouldn't mind doing everything my employer asks since they are actually paying me."

"I'd rather spend my time working at a job rather than protesting so that there's a chance that some of the jobs might stay here instead of going to Hungary and Romania."

I'm sure that's what happened.

It must have been a translation error.

Really.

You Movin Too Fast

A child psychologist once told me that children are often psychologically impacted by frequent moves and changes of lifestyle.

Military families have long known the trauma of uprooting their children every two to three years as their postings change and many families have evolved elaborate rituals around the move to lessen the strain.

I lived in the same house from birth until I moved away for college. Even then, I attended undergraduate and graduate school less than a mile from my parent's home.

By contrast, my children moved from Springfield, VA to Union, WV to Huntington, WV back to Springfield, and then to Ft. Lauderdale and back between 1992 and 2001. Six moves in eight years.

Our children have complained often that this period of chaos in their lives was severe and irreperable. They suffered from insecurity, from a lack of permanence that comes from never having experienced the comforting monotony of stasis.

Until recently I was not as sympathetic to their plight as I now know I should have been. Spending 22 years living in the same town had given me a strong desire for change. New faces and new places were a welcome change, not something to be feared. I looked (and look) forward to forging new relationships with persons places and things (or "nouns" as my 2nd grade teacher Mrs. Sands used to say).

Lately, however, I've begin to notice a discomfort in society. An insecurity borne of an eerily similar lack of permanence to what my children felt growing up. Nothing stays the same for very long.

You can see this in the macro and in the micro.

Watch any TV show in Fast Forward mode. No scene will stay in sharp focus for more than a few seconds. Do the same for the commercials -- they are a rapid fire montage of images and sound that bombards the soul

At the societal level, we move from fashion to fad to mania to passe in a matter of months. Today's hero is tomorrow villain. We raise up our idols only to smash them down in the public square of humiliation and scorn.

Long term means a year, and permanence means less frequent transitions. We are living the Orwellian double speak in our own lives.

The picture that came to mind the other day was of a phonograph needle on an old vinyl LP. In the opening tracks, the stylus rides gracefully along the perimeter without a mood or care. The longer it plays and the closer it approaches the middle, the shorter the time allowed to complete each revolution.

Round and round we go. The changes becoming ever more frequent and severe.

And even the change changes. Once orderly and predictable, societal change has become a helter skelter experience of staccatto disruptions brought to us in real time by cell phones, internet and wirelessly connected PDA's.

I think living in the big city is getting to me. Maybe I'll move.

Alchemy

The history of modern science is rooted in the work of the alchemists. Scientist-Philosophers throughout the pre-modern era in all regions of the world sought to change the base into the precious. The plentiful into the rare. The common into the sublime.

In pursuit of this goal, science proceeded from microscopic to molecular, to atomic, and finally subatomic matter. The benefits to humanity in pharmacology, genetics, science, communications, agriculture, and physics dwarf any metallurgical gains that would have accrued from the accomplishment of the alchemist's original aims.

Yet we have now (and have always possessed) the means to achieve true alchemy. We can, using our particularly human ability to reason and think, change one type of matter into another.

This is not a physical transformation per se, but rather the ability to substitute the manufacture of one type of matter for another.

Take, for example, the manufacture of oil in New Hampshire by the John Deere Company of Iowa.

Everyone knows that neither New Hampshire nor Iowa has any indigineous petroleum production or refinery capacity. How then does the John Deere factory in Iowa produce petroleum in New Hampshire.

As new roads are built in northern New Hampshire, the Earth Movers made by Deere in Iowa flatten hilltops and burrow through mountains to level the new roadbeds. Over its 50 years life,tens of millions of automobile miles will be spent traversing these highways. The flatter the road, the fewer gallons of gasoline will be consumed by the automobiles (and too, fewer brake pads consumed and transmission parts worn).

Our modern alchemist can create an oil savings of millions of barrels of oils by substituting John Deere earth moving equipment.

While this process is not limited to the alchemic process of producing petroleum products, that particular item is reputed to be in such short supply and hails from such a contentious part of the globe, that it is worthy of some focus.

The subsidization of fixed rail mass transit is almost universally unpopular from a fiscal point of view, but from an energy policy standpoint, it seems quite wise. Automobiles burn refined petroleum products; most light rail systems utilize coal generated electricity. In essence this is the cheap way to convert coal to gas.

How about bio-diesel? Even at the current cost of diesel hovering around $2.35 per gallon, bio-diesel is plagued by distribution and refining difficulties that keep it from being a widespread alternative for the trucking industry in America (the largest consumer of diesel fuel).

The modern alchemist, however, would note that the next largest consumer of transportation diesel is the agricultural community. Perhaps the farmers of midwest could cooperatively refine a fixed portion of their Oilseed crop in exchange for bio-diesel for their combines, reapers, tractors, trucks and heating and drying equipment.

This type of alchemy is currently being done in the coal fields of West Virginia. Coal operators are committing coal from their mines in 20-year fixed price contracts to a refiner who is committing to provide back refined truck diesel at equivalently fixed prices. The coal miners are alchemists creating Middle East Oil from their own coal.

The examples are endless, we need only use the one unlimited resource that we possess on earth -- the power of our minds.