thoughts on Veterans' Day

Tomorrow is the anniversary of the armistice that ended the horrors of World War One. At the eleventh hour of the eleventh day of the eleventh month the guns fell silent. Since then, November 11 has been set aside as a day to remember all those who gave their lives in the armed forces for our freedoms. In UK, people mark that day by wearing a red paper poppy. (The poppy thrived in the soil between the trenches of Flanders that was torn up by bombs and shells. It was adopted as the symbol of the horrors of War.) That tradition is still strong. On the way to the airport in Tokyo today I saw several westerners wearing poppies in the lapels of their business suits. Here in the US we will celebrate “Veterans Day” to remember those who served for our freedoms. There will be ceremonies and maybe even parades, but often the focus will be on “past” wars. It is easy to remember the “acceptable” conflicts of WW II, Korea, and nowadays, even Viet Nam. Those wars are safe. The conflict has ended, the pain is past and the horrors are safely confined to movies and television documentaries.That is not true of the present conflict in Iraq.

On a recent visit to Calgary I noticed that the flags at the airport were flying at half-staff. It was not a special holiday and the newspapers had no reports that an eminent citizen had died. The reason was that a member of the Canadian armed services who had been killed overseas was returning home. I confess that I thought this was a “nice” gesture and continued on my way. Tonight I watched a TV report about how the ordinary Canadian people pay their respects to Canada’s fallen. The article made me compare the way Canada acknowledges its fallen with the air of secrecy that surrounds the sacrifice by the US forces. Here, we are regularly informed about numbers. The trouble is (or maybe the point is) we are immune to numbers. An article that four soldiers were killed by an IED evokes no response. The sight of those four bodies returning home, four flag draped coffins, grieving families, distraught children and the effect this has on four different communities might make us appreciate the full cost of this futile war.

We rightly ridicule government attempts to stifle news and feed propaganda to its citizens. When that is our government’s policy and it also negates the full sacrifice of our fallen, it is unconscionable.

I memorized this verse at school in the 50s when the horrors of WWII were still visible in Europe. My teacher was an "old" lady. She probably shared in the sacrifices of WW I. The thoughts it expresses are still applicable to the heroes of today.

They shall not grow old as we that are left grow old,
Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn
At the going down of the sun and in the morning
We will remember them.

“For the Fallen”
Laurence Binyon (1869-1943),

Brothers in Arms . . . usually a waste

I am writing this entry on the plane as it flies over Alaska on the way to Japan. I suspect that if I look out of the windows on the right side I might see Sarah Palin’s house and if I check the other side I might see Russia. Right now, I’m quietly marveling at the technology all around me. My laptop is plugged into a 120V outlet in the seat, an LCD screen in arm-rest offers a choice of over 300 movies or I can select my favorite tracks from over 200 CDs. The music selection is wonderful: everything from Elvis to Enya or Bach to Billy Holiday. Outside, it is -60 degrees Fahrenheit but I am cocooned in an aluminum tube hurtling towards the international dateline at 550 miles per hour listening to Simon and Garfunkel sing about the “Sounds of Silence”.

The music system allows passengers to select tunes from any number of CDs and play a personal “Jukebox” to wile away the hours. Among the gems I’ve included on my jukebox is “Brothers in Arms” by Dire Straits. I can’t listen to this tune without being grateful for the circumstances in my life. My parents were both in their late teens and early twenties when they served in the armed forces during WW II. I was born at the end of that war and came of age when the law requiring two years service in the forces had been abolished. The UK was not involved in Viet Nam so unlike some of my colleagues here, I was spared that conflict. Now, I am too old. My son registered for Selective Service when he became 18 but as the years pass and he advances I have strong hopes that he will be spared any involvement in armed conflict. I fervently pray that my grandson and granddaughter will also be spared. That’s her picture at the end of this paragraph. She is still too young to be embarrassed by a doting granddad or be teased by friends. I’m not too sure that applies to her “big” brother so we’ll omit his photo.)

I expect many people will think my feelings are selfish. Maybe they are, but they are also a combination of profound sorrow and deep anger. Sorrow for the wanton loss of youth and all the wasted potential those lives contained; anger at the people my age who keep failing to find alternative means of solving problems and so squander those youthful lives. My feelings are not restricted to the US. I mourn the loss of youth on all sides and my curses are democratically directed at all leaders. But the crux is we claim to have higher ideals than some other folks.

So, I also get angry each Sunday when, with so many other American citizens, I go to church to worship the “Prince of Peace”. We recall the way Jesus forgave His killers. We read and memorize verses proclaiming His teaching that love conquers all and somehow, we manage to rationalize that these words are not really intended to work in the real world between Monday and Saturday. Should I add naivety to my selfishness? I don’t have an answer to that but I am sure that we cannot just pick the bits of Jesus’ teachings we like and ask forgiveness when we deliberately ignore the “inconvenient” parts. The verse is “do onto others as you would have them do onto you”. That way will bring security for everyone’s grandkids. Unfortunately, too many seem to read it as “do onto others before they do onto you”. That is a guaranteed path to continued waste and sorrow.

Religious education

Back in the Dark Ages when I attended the Boys’ Model School in Northern Ireland, the law required pupils be taught two specific subjects. They were subjects that are not normally required for a good education in USA today - Religious Education and Physical Education. I thought that the “Troubles” in Northern Ireland and the development of modern curricula would cause a retreat from teaching religion to all pupils. However, looking at the current website for the Boys’ Model, I was very surprised to read, “The legal requirement is for every pupil to study RE, unless parents request his withdrawal.”

The school webpage covering Religious Education makes some interesting claims for the subject. These include “a substantial contribution to the spiritual, moral, cultural, intellectual and physical development of all pupils.” Certainly much of Western culture and the basis for our ethical systems tie directly back to our religious heritage. Still, I wonder about that claim for “physical development.” Maybe the author was thinking about the admonitions against strong drink and immorality.

The webpage notes the goals of the RE course. They include the usual communication, thinking skills and personal capabilities. They also include:

• a knowledge of where religious and moral beliefs come from;
• an awareness of Christian teaching;
• a sensitivity towards the beliefs of others;
• an ability to think and judge about morality;
• an awareness of self.
  

Those seem to be pretty basic skills for anyone growing up in today’s world. The course includes an “Introduction to Judaism & Islam” so the content looks as relevant as the latest news. Given our concerns about moral, ethical and business standards, I wonder if this is another small example of “How the Irish Saved Civilization”.

Harvey - Guest Blogger

We Bull Terriers are a naturally retiring breed but as I lay on the sofa with one ear cocked towards the television I became so incensed that I asked Fergus if I could post this note. The pundits on CNN suggested that some humans might choose whom to vote for based only on the color of a man’s skin. I couldn’t believe it. I don’t understand it. I thought I heard that something called the Stock Market had lost 40 percent of its value; lots of people have no jobs; others can’t afford to go the vet (sorry, doctor); and many are loosing their homes. How does chosing a President based on skin color help solve these problems? My friend Regan is different from me. She is a Grey Hound. She has colored patches and very long legs. But we get on together – even if she does always want to be the boss.

I was told that humans are more intelligent than us dogs. Now I am not so sure. Please, humans, decide the future of this country on something more important than the color of a man’s skin.

Ike - Finale

It’s been three weeks since Ike left town. Our part of Missouri City is almost normal – except that all the Bradford Pear trees have decided it is spring again and have come into flower. How one night of high winds can induce the same response as four months of winter is perplexing but the blossom adds a touch of wonder to what was an unpleasant experience.

The beach home in Galveston fared very well. Dirt marks on the garage wall indicate that the storm surge on the west of the island was about five feet above ground level – probably about eight feet above normal high tide. The dwelling area upstairs is comfortably above that level so we were spared any water damage except in the garage. Power and water were restored to our area of Sea Isle last week and we were able to power-wash the mud out of the garage. The next test will be to return the batteries to the golf cart and see if it can be restored to operation. All this is very trivial and mundane and our feelings of relief and “survivor guilt” grow each time we travel down to Galveston. During the past couple of weeks people have begun the clean-up process. Along the side of the roads in Galveston (and surprisingly along some parts of Highway 6) heaps of debris are growing. These piles of ruined fridges, sodden furniture, saturated walls and broken structures represent people’s lives, their homes and hopes for the future. I can’t imagine the heartache of seeing a lifetime of memories destroyed or the stress of dealing with insurance claims and bureaucracies - all while trying earn a living and maintain a semblance of normality. Somehow, sending $700 billion to Wall Street to try to fix a crisis caused by greed doesn’t seem to be an appropriate use of our resources. I appreciate my congressman’s fortitude in voting against the bill both times it came to the House. I only wish my senatorial representative displayed the same backbone.

And now for something different . . . . a gratuitous commercial plug. For years I have been a fan of Venezuelan rum. It has a distinctive flavor that is very different from other Caribbean products. IMHO it is infinitely superior to the mass produced liquors (especially the ones with the bat trademark) sold in most US bars and restaurants. But recently I discovered something even better. It is “hand made Texas Rum” produced near here in San Leon on Galveston Bay. Railean distillery has survived Hurricane Ike and their nectar is readily available in your local Specs store. A recent article in the Houston Chronicle describes some of the eccentric residents of San Leon and their efforts to recover after Ike. I encourage y’all to help San Leon in a practical way. Get rid of all those imported rums. Help local industry and our national economy which needs all the help it can get. Be patriotic - Drink Texas rum!

Ike – interim

It is amazing to watch nature. Ike’s winds shredded leaves on most of our rose bushes but the buds continue to bloom as if nothing had happened. They are certainly more restful than images of splintered trees or piles of downed branches and the media have enough photographs of distraught people and destroyed homes. If you are interested then check out this series at the Boston Globe.

Ike blew in early on Saturday morning (Sept 13). He destroyed much of Galveston and wreaked havoc on Houston. By mid morning the worst winds had passed and folks were able to survey the damage. Our electricity ceased about 2:00 AM during the storm so the neighborhood was quiet without the background hum of air conditioners. Our home in Missouri City fared well with only one large pear tree succumbing to the winds. Two-thirds of that tree was lying on the grass and the remaining sticks and the stump will need to be removed and replaced.

Several years ago we invested in a gasoline-powered generator and I installed a transfer switch which allowed the generator to feed kitchen circuits for lights, refrigerator, microwave, and coffeemaker and those for the lights, TV and overhead fan in the family room. By chance, those same circuits also provided lights in the toilet and bathroom. So, by mid-day on Saturday we were able to have hot coffee and watch the full scale of destruction unfold on TV.

Mains electricity was restored to our part of Missouri City by Sunday afternoon so the generator was dispatched with a friend living in a part of the city still without. Now we are experiencing increasing “survivor guilt” as we sit in air-conditioned comfort watching the plight of those who still don’t have power. N & T are part of that group so along with their greyhound they moved in. TV announcements suggest their part of Houston (the NE) won’t have power restored until sometime next week – about 10-12 days after Ike struck.

As for our home on Galveston there is no official news. However, Google Earth has a new feature. It allows "before" and "after" pictures of Ike. We can see our home and it looks like the roof is intact! The planned “Look and Leave” program to allow residents to visit property, assess damage and depart is suspended indefinitely. Hopefully it will be resurrected again soon – maybe with staggered days based on name or house number to even out the first mad rush of visitors. In the meantime we watch every helicopter news video and wait for the time when we will be able to resume weekends in Galveston.

Waiting for Ike

Hurricane Ike is getting close. We closed up the house on West Galveston and left it to the tender mercies of the elements. Even on Thursday morning at sunrise the storm surge was beginning to show. This photo is where we normally park the golf cart when we visit the beach. I assume that the whole of Sea Isle is under water by now.

Here in Missouri City late Friday evening the wind is picking up. The city has introduced a dusk to dawn curfew but I have no inclination to wander outside and see what is happening. The generator has gasoline in case we loose power; we have water in the bath in case the treatment plant is flooded and we are waiting patiently for Ike to pass. At current speed, Ike should be a memory by this time tomorrow. That will be time to clear up here and wonder if we can get down to Sea Isle on Sunday afternoon.

Doors

This gate at the Harland & Wolf shipyard in Belfast continues to pique my interest. To me, the iron retains its strength and beauty but as I look at the photograph I could kick myself for not taking more time to study the construction. Some parts of the gate look like wrought iron while others are clearly cast. Where they made in the shipyard or is there a name of an artist or foundry inscribed somewhere among those weeds? When were they fabricated? I assume it was sometime after WW II because most ornamental iron railings and gates were collected at the start of the war and turned into steel for munitions. I hope they are still there next time I visit Belfast and I can get some answers.

Doors hold a fascination for me. There are intrinsic differences in function, form, and construction. Equally, doors are wonderful metaphors. What allusions can be drawn from a neglected shipyard gate surrounded by rampant weeds?

The last couple of doors are from churches. The first is at the church located in Jerusalem where the Pool of Siloam is thought to have been. Those closed doors reminded me of the quatrain by Omar Khayyam:

There was a Door to which I found no Key:
There was a Veil through which I could not see:
Some little Talk awhile of Me and Thee
There seemed -- and then no more of Thee and Me.

The second is at one of the missions in San Antonio. I really don’t think there is any significance to the fact that one is open while the other is closed. But then, that’s what makes doors such a fascinating subject – they make me think.

From the auld country

There are lots of direct flights between Houston and Gatwick. However, a detour via Newark allowed a stop in Belfast to visit my aging mother and offered a reduction in the ticket cost. That opportunity to be a dutiful son and a cost-conscious employee is too good to be missed.

Northern Ireland is a strange mixture of change and stability. On the side of “change” guided bus tours transport camera-clicking visitors up the Falls and down the Shankill to record the sectarian murals that that are now tourist attractions. On the side of stability and “nothing changes” are the loyalist flags remaining from the recent celebration of “the Twelfth” and the news reports that the “Apprentice Boys” marched at Londonderry (or Derry) yet again on Saturday.



The same mixture of change and stability applies to the landscape as well. Donaghadee is a small fishing village near Belfast. The old folk-song claims that it is “six miles from Bangor to Donaghadee” but that must have been before the ring road was built. Nowadays, it is a little further but once there, the scene is the same as it was when I visited as a little boy. Global positioning has probably made the lighthouse redundant but a lifeboat is still based in the harbor and adds a splash of special color.



In Belfast, the iconic gantry cranes at the Harland & Wolf shipyard also add a splash of color to the skyline. Sadly, they now preside over a relatively silent workplace. It looked like the yard was doing some repairs to a small jack-up rig. That didn’t need the services of these gigantic cranes. These beautiful neglected wrought-iron gates are a sign of the shipyard’s former prosperity. Their sad decay is likely to be an indicator of the fate of these cranes. The curse of geography that puts Ireland at the western edge of Europe has always added to costs and probably will continue to doom the yard to slow decline.

Flying

Modern cameras are wonderful. Automatic exposures, automatic focus and shake reduction tempt one to mount a long zoom, point and shoot. I have been doing just that as I walked along the beach at Galveston snapping birds. The results were not very satisfactory. By taking lots of shots the law of averages came to my assistance and I was able to find some that were worth keeping. However, none captured the feelings I was hoping for. Last weekend, I thought about some of the basic photography principles that apply to the shots I was trying to take.

First, I was using a 70-210mm zoom lens set at maximum zoom. On the Pentax K10D this lens has the same properties as a 100-300 mm zoom on 35 mm film camera. For reasonable sharpness, the rule of thumb is to set the minimum shutter speed at 1/focal length. For my lens that should have been at least 1/300 of a second. In “automatic” mode my camera was setting the shutter speed to 1/250 of a second. That’s not a big difference if my subjects had not been moving but it was likely enough to cause some of the blurred details I was seeing. So last weekend I took back some control. I set the shutter speed to 1/500 of a second. I also increased the ISO setting from 100 to 200 so that the f-stop and depth of focus didn’t change. This guy is close to what I have been looking for.


I am in awe of the way the gulls are so at ease as they float on the sea breezes. Just a flick of a feather is enough to set them gliding over the waves to capture a different air current. High over the beach, frigate birds wheeled and turned last Sunday. They were just like so many U2 spy planes while lower down, squadrons of pelicans made effortless “Dawn patrols” along the shore line. They are all in total control of every puff of air. It is easy to understand why we are so fascinated by flight.

As I sat watching them I remembered a poem written in 1941 by an Anglo-American pilot who flew a Spitfire in England for the RCAF. This was before the USA entered WW II. He was killed a couple of months later in an air crash. President Regan quoted the ending stanza after the Challenger disaster, but the earlier lines capture the sheer exhilaration of flying. I know those birds feel that exhilaration.

High Flight
Oh! I have slipped the surly bonds of earth And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings; Sunward I've climbed, and joined the tumbling mirth Of sun-split clouds - and done a hundred things You have not dreamed of - wheeled and soared and swung High in the sunlit silence. Hov'ring there I've chased the shouting wind along, and flung My eager craft through footless halls of air. Up, up the long delirious, burning blue, I've topped the windswept heights with easy grace Where never lark, or even eagle flew - And, while with silent lifting mind I've trod The high untresspassed sanctity of space, Put out my hand and touched the face of God.

Pilot Officer John Gillespie Magee
No 412 squadron, RCAF, 1941

More thoughts on oil supply – and still no pictures

“Fungible” is an interesting word. The dictionary defines it as “being of such nature or kind as to be freely exchangeable or replaceable, in whole or in part, for another of like nature or kind.” Crude oil is a fungible commodity. Differences in quality affect prices and influence the best refinery for processing. But, in simple terms the world’s supply of crude oil can be considered as one large pot. Picture the producers pouring their oil into the pot and the users sitting around like kids sucking it out with straws. New discoveries make the pot bigger. Increasing demand is just those users sucking harder.

So what happens when we discover all that oil offshore that our politicians keep talking about? If the discoveries are big enough to meet our needs and we keep it to ourselves we become independent. That is a dream. More likely, discoveries will be much less than our needs. Again, if we keep that oil to ourselves we may not have to suck so hard from the communal pot. As Mr. Micawber’s economics suggested, we might achieve happiness. More likely, others will suck what we leave and there will be no change in the price of oil.

People are beginning to realize and accept that it will take five to ten years to develop any oil found in the new drilling areas. I wonder if they realize how much oil they will need to find to make any difference. This table shows some numbers taken from the data on the US Department of Energy website. I’ve selected the figures from 2007 and also those forecast for 2015 – when those “discoveries” might be arriving at the pump.

This table only shows three countries – USA, India and China. I have assumed that conservation allows us to reduce our oil consumption by 10 percent in the next 7 years. I have also assumes that India and China will only increase their oil per capita consumption by 10 percent during this time. (As the people of India and China become more affluent they will rightly expect the same standards as those of the West. My assumption of their demands may be very low). Adding the daily demands of just these three countries we see that it grows from 31 million barrels in 2007 to 36 million barrels in 2015. That pot will need to grow by an extra 5 million barrels per day just to meet the needs of US, China and India.

The largest oilfield in the USA is Prudhoe Bay in Alaska. It produces about 400,000 barrels per day. The biggest oilfield in the world is the Ghawar field in Saudi Arabia. Even it only produces about 4 million barrels of oil each day. The whole of Iran produces only 4 million barrels per day. Our politicians might hope the oil industry can discover another Prudhoe Bay. It is statistically unlikely that they will find another Ghawar. The demands of people sucking from that communal oil pot are getting bigger each day. It is obvious that the solution to our (and the world’s) energy problems has to be found outside the oil industry.

Thoughts on Oil - and no pictures

Wilkins Micawber in Charles Dickens’ novel, David Copperfield is famous for his statement, “Annual income twenty pounds, annual expenditure nineteen nineteen six, result happiness. Annual income twenty pounds, annual expenditure twenty pounds ought and six, result misery.”

The website of the Energy Information Administration allows us to apply this principle to crude oil prices. Data published on July 8, 2008 show world petroleum production of 86.48 million barrels per day. World consumption is calculated at 86.40 million barrels per day. If these figures are accurate the result for 2008 should be happiness. Forecasts for 2009 are not so rosy. World petroleum consumption is estimated to be 87.72 million barrels per day and consumption will be 87.76 million barrels per day. Mr. Micawber’s statement suggests misery in 2009. Obviously, nobody believes Government statistics for 2008 so crude oil is priced above $140 per barrel instead of happier levels. Misery could be here to stay.

Micawber logic predicts that happiness will only return if we increase production or reduce consumption. Our politicians have made loud proclamations about increasing production. They talked about drilling off the East and West Coasts and in the Alaskan Natural Wildlife reserve. A few sensible ones noted that even if this drilling found oil tomorrow it would probably take seven or eight years to bring the new oil to market. Domestic drilling is not going to restore the production/consumption balance. Overseas production increases might be possible in a shorter timetable. Venezuela’s Orinoco basin has about 1.2 billion barrels of extra-heavy oil in place. Venezuela exports about half a million barrels per day of this oil. The Venezuelan government has plans to significantly increase this volume. However, even here, where the oil location is known, the extraction technology is proven, and the environmental concerns are easily addressed, new production will take at least six years to come on stream. A similar situation probably exists in Saudi Arabia where increasing production from declining oil fields is unlikely to be as easy as the newspapers imply.

A different chorus of folks has stated, “we can’t drill our way out of this crisis”. If they had qualified this sound bite by adding “in any realistic timetable and at a reasonable price” they would probably be more correct. (But $145 dollar oil and lots of time can make even harebrained schemes look sensible.) The real answer for us is to reduce our consumption. In the US we use vast quantities of petroleum compared to other nations. We consume 20.7 million barrels per day compared to China’s 6.5 and India’s 2.4 million barrels per day. On a per capita basis those statistics look even worse. We use 70.6 barrels/1,000 people per day. China uses 2.3 and India 5.1. As the living standards in those countries continue to rise demands for petroleum will also increase – maybe to levels like the 30 - 40 barrels /1,000 people used by many countries in Europe? For the long run, it is unlikely that there will ever be enough oil again to satisfy Mr. Micawber’s requirements for happiness.

Just Gulls

I have been remiss in writing this blog because other things have taken priority. Even the camera had to take a back seat recently. Last weekend was the first opportunity to try out a couple of lenses that a friend from church passed on to me. These had been unused for years after his broken Pentax film camera was pronounced uneconomic to repair. But, a feature of Pentax DSLR cameras is that they will operate with most old Pentax lens and so I gratefully attached them to the K10D and tried my hand at photographing the gulls on Galveston beach. It was a learning experience and as I deleted over 60 percent of the shots I was glad that I was not paying for film.

Looking at some of the initial “keepers” I noticed marks and smudges at the same position on each image. There was dirt on the camera sensor. Being able to make “repairs” with Lightroom software reinforced the joys of shooting digital. Hopefully, this weekend will offer another chance to practice with that zoom lens and capture the Laughing Gulls - this time with a clean sensor.

Gratuitous plugs - no politics

At one time “diplomacy” was defined as discussion, persuasion and maybe even subtle coercion used to reach national goals. It required meeting and talking with people of different viewpoints and ambitions. In extremes, it was even necessary to deal with people who sought your ruin. Diplomacy was the skill of solving problems without the use of overt force. In recent years, US leaders have abandoned this traditional definition of diplomacy. Now, our top leaders revile and insult anyone who proposes to meet with people who actively oppose us and can be defined as “terrorists”. Our diplomatic skills are reduced to meeting with those who share our opinions and bombing those who don’t! But just as the decline in the value of the dollar has reduced US world economic influence, so this decline in our diplomatic skills reduces our ability to influence world events. We have lost our position of a respected leader. Our politicians now act more like loud-mouthed bullies.

I was going to continue with examples of respected past leaders who had real diplomatic skills. These leaders dealt with people who might today be called terrorists (or worse) to gain our national objectives. But why should I waste time? The blunders of our current leadership are obvious to anyone with an IQ over 85. This includes diplomacy. Instead, the rest of this epistle is a gratuitous plug for bull terriers.



In many places bull terriers get a bad rap. J’s family had bull terriers when she was a girl and they have always been an important part of our family. We currently share our life with Harvey. This photo was taken after he had a cyst removed from his neck. Harvey is a miniature white English bull terrier. He is instantly recognized by anyone who watched certain beer adverts or who shops in Target. Harvey is small in stature but he displays all the personality and character traits that make bull terriers so loved. Harvey also displays some of the other qualities that can make bull terriers so misunderstood. On the positive side, he is a loving 30-pound lap dog. He is happiest when he is cuddled up beside me watching TV. Harvey behaves just like a strong-willed child. He is precocious, disobedient and is always trying to have things his way. There is nothing in Harvey’s character to give any concern that he would hurt anyone. But, Harvey is a bull-terrier. He is built like an Abrams tank. Those 30 pounds are all solid muscle and bone. His jaws are like a clamp and his tail thrashes from side to side like a cudgel. Harvey doesn’t go around obstructions. He goes through them or shoves them aside. Harvey is like a sumo wrestler who has not learnt to control his strength. This can be a problem when he meets new people, especially young people. Small children are likely to be overwhelmed (and overturned) by his affectionate greetings. For that reason, we always keep Harvey under close control when children ask to meet him.

Harvey is the latest in a line of Bull Terriers and Pit Bulls who have shared our home. They each deserve their own entry in this blog, especially Cleopatra, a red-nosed red Pit Bull and a gentle soul. Throughout her life Cleopatra was ruled by our small Burmese cat who was only one tenth her size. Harvey, Sparky, Cleopatra, Honey and Marquis were all dogs who shared our home at different times. In their dealings with J and me, our children, the neighborhood kids and visitors, these bull terriers showed me that bad dogs are rare – even (especially?) bull terriers. When a bull terrier goes bad, the fault is almost always with the owner.

The personality and character of most bull terriers means that they are not the right dog for every family. Sensible dog lovers recognize this fact. The same statement can also be made for many other breeds – Rottweilers, German Shepherds, for example. Maybe a time is approaching when a dog license should be for a type and size of dog. Just as some people do not qualify for a firearms license, so some people should not be licensed to keep certain dogs. That may sound outrageous, but is it any more outrageous than the suggestion that diplomacy does not require we deal with those we call terrorists?

To post or not to post . . . that is the question

There is no political content today. At least, that is the intention as I start to write this epistle.

During the past few years our neighbor’s sons have been members of St. Thomas Episcopal School's famous pipe band. J and I attended several past performances of the school’s Scottish Festival. My Pentax K10D arrived back from repair just in time for the spectacle last Friday. Over the years I have struggled with mixed success to capture good images of the performance. I have also struggled with the whole concept of proper use of photographs of somebody else’s children. This is especially true in today’s world where it is common to post pictures on the Web. Few Web systems offer any promise that postings can ever be completely deleted. Most web pages can be indexed, cached and stored forever by Google, Yahoo or one of the other search engines. With a little effort any user can download and store images and text displayed on their computer. It is both humbling and frightening. It is humbling because these words may already have been indexed by the time that you read them. It is frightening because people who are embarrassed or hurt by the content of a web page cannot easily have that problem erased or corrected. Posting on the web might almost be the modern equivalent of carving in stone.

And so my images of the Scottish Festival are destined to remain in the dark. The images from the Pentax were much higher quality than those from the old Olympus. That was expected. They taught be a little more about what works in that mixture of dark backgrounds and intense spotlights. They also suggest a compromise – an “artistic” shot that tries to capture the color, rhythm, beauty and excitement of the evening while cloaking the individual performers in mystery. I think that will be the objective for next year.

Gestures can make a difference

The Olympic Games are supposed to be a symbol of international goodwill, sportsmanship and physical rivalry. Our televisions regularly show stories of athletes who have honed their talents and won a place on the national team. These reports suggest that the “spirit of the games” is alive and well. But politics also overshadows the Olympics. The games provide a perfect venue for governments and individuals to make grand demonstrations. In 1936, Nazi Germany used the games to highlight its national and racial ideologies. During the Munich games, terrorists massacred Israeli athletes. The US government led a boycott of the Moscow Olympics to protest actions by the host nation. In 1968, two American athletes received their medals shoeless, but wearing black socks, to represent black poverty. When the national anthem was played they gave a black-power salute. The 2008 Olympic Games may well provide an opportunity for demonstrations that are as far reaching as any of these.

Not since 1936 has a country invested so much national prestige in hosting the games. Not since 1980 have the policies of a host nation caused so much controversy. The latest events in Tibet appear to be a straw that has broken the camel’s back. Already some are calling for a boycott of the games – especially the symbolic “Opening Ceremony”. These calls require a response at a personal and a national level. A spokesman for one of the presidential candidates suggested that the USA is so dependent on China to fund our deficit that we cannot afford to upset them. In that camp economic concerns trump moral considerations. For them, we are already an economic vassal of China. Another presidential candidate has declared for a boycott of the opening ceremony. The third has offered no guidance.

As a friend remarked in Sunday school last week, “We are not called to change the world but we are responsible for our own actions”. So, I shall not be participating in the 2008 Olympics. I shall not watch the television coverage and I shall not buy products from companies that support the games. I know my decisions will have absolutely no affect on China’s human rights policies or how the games evolve. But I remain a true optimist. I remember how Horiatio and his two companions held the bridge and saved Rome, how the 300 Spartans helped defeat the Persian invaders and how the defenders of the Alamo bought time for Texas. Maybe, just maybe, my little gesture will encourage others and like these photographs of two different sides of the Texas story, a gesture doomed to defeat can lead to change. Maybe also, that spokesman’s comment will awaken all the presidential candidates to our nation’s real weakness - a weakness caused because we are so indebted to foreigners that we have no freedom to act as we choose.

Caracas - and 4megapixels

I spent last week in Caracas. A couple of things surprised me. The exchange rate between the US dollar and the Venezuelan Bolívar is fixed by the Venezuelan government. It is about 2.15 Bolivars Fuerte (BF) to the $US. There is also an unofficial rate fixed by the laws of supply and demand. Recently the free market valued the US Dollar around 4.2 BF. Last week, the US Dollar had devalued to 3.8 BF. I was told that the reason for the drop was a demand for bolivars. The Venezuelan tax year ended on March 31 and so people needed bolivars to pay their taxes. Businesses sold US dollars for bolivars. Lots of people selling US Dollars decreased the value of the dollar. I could not help wondering if our government observed this example of free market action. Maybe the fact that the US dollar even lost value against the Bolívar made an impression on some in the White House. One day, our suppliers are going to price and sell crude oil for Euros instead of US Dollars. When that time comes foreigners will not need so many dollars. I do not like to think about how supply and demand will price our currency when there is no artificial demand for it.

My other surprise related to my expectations of crime and safety. My hotel was close to Parc Del Este. This public park is home to Venezuelan birds, trees, flowers and small animals. On Thursday morning I was awake before 6 am so I decided to wander through the park with the old Olympus camera (the Pentax is off for repair!) I left the hotel under a grey sky after dawn and walked to the park. I admit I took some safety precautions. I left my money, credit cards and valuables in the room safe. All I carried were some business cards for identification and about $40 to hand over to any mugger who stopped me. Five minutes later I was in the park. The park was alive. Hordes of early morning joggers almost ran me over. Little old ladies chatting together ignored the nervous gringo with the camera. A guy practicing kendo was in another world. Parc Del Este was probably safer than Memorial Park in Houston. [It may be different at other times of the day!]

But not everything was peaceful. The park is the overnight roosting place for flocks of parrots. The morning peace was continually broken by loud raucous shouts from different groups of green parrots. They reminded me of old couples bickering about whose turn it was to make breakfast. They also made me think of the senseless bickering that goes on between the leaders of some nations I care about. But that is unkind. The parrots appeared to be communicating. I can’t say the same for the politicians.

Politics and the 3-legged stool

The retirement of Ian Paisley from Northern Ireland’s politics reminded me of a conversation I had in South Africa some years ago. Travelling from the industrial complex at Secunda to Johannesburg I chatted with the driver about the changes in his country. He provided a simple picture to explain how South Africa was able to move from the violence of apartheid towards an integrated society. His model was a three-legged stool. In his story, one leg of the stool represented the extreme whites who wanted to continue with apartheid. One leg represented the extreme blacks who wanted to violently overthrow this system. The third leg represented the majority of the people – black and white. They just wanted to get on with living and provide a better future for their children. My driver reminded me that a three-legged stool falls if one leg is missing. In the same way South Africa’s conflict could only be resolved if these three parties all agreed to change. His first key to getting change was the condition of the legs. The population must be tired of the status quo and must really want something different. The opposing leaders must both have spotless political credentials. They must also have courage to lead their group of extremists along the new path. His second key to change is that all three legs must be present at the same time. That second key is why real political change is so rare.

As we drove through the darkness he told me that in old South Africa there was general unrest among all people. The lack of progress under apartheid was having an impact on everybody’s life. People wanted to change. He then noted the courage and vision of President F.W. de Klerk. This white leader’s history and politics allowed him to stifle any serious arguments from his followers. Finally, Nelson Mandela was loved and revered by the black community. His struggle against oppression was legendary. He had the moral authority to ask his followers to accept the changes. All three legs were together at that moment in South Africa’s history. Change happened. South Africa surprised the world with its peaceful revolution.

More recently, we saw the same thing happen in Northern Ireland. The majority of the people in Northern Ireland have been ready for an end to “the troubles” for many years. That was demonstrated when Mairead Corrigan and Betty Williams won the Nobel Peace Prize in 1976. Also, for many years, Ian Paisley has been a strong and charismatic leader for the ultra Loyalists. Only the Republican leg of the stool lacked a single leader with similar stature. That leader finally came into the picture when Gerry Adams emerged and grew as spokesman and leader for Sinn Fein. The stool now had three legs. Change became possible and Power Sharing and peace got off to a creaky start.

As I apply this analysis to other crises, the picture for 2008 is not encouraging. The Israeli-Palestine stool almost had all three legs at the same time a few years ago. Change was nearly within the grasp of both sides of Abraham’s family. Now, I fear that both the leadership legs are missing and all the rhetoric and cajoling from Washington is just adding more hot air to the desert winds. In Iraq the leadership leg for the Sunni faction is missing and that for the Shiite majority looks wobbly. In Afghanistan, all three legs are waiting to be discovered. I took the picture above during a visit to Belfast. The few remaining murals have now become tourist attractions. I pray for the day when each three-legged stool in the Middle East find all of their legs and the Jerusalem Wall can follow the way of the Berlin Wall and these murals.

Unused immigrant visa available !

Edith Agnes Andrews was my Great Aunt. I found her passport during a visit to Belfast and was fascinated to discover this visa allowing her to immigrate to the USA. Aunt Edie did not exercise that visa. According to family folklore, she went with her friends to catch the boat to the USA. The boat was anchored in Belfast Lough and a small tender carried the immigrants between the shore and the ship. Aunt Edie boarded that tender, went out to the ship and returned to Irish soil with the tender. She never did leave Britain and is buried in Belfast.

Why do I mention Aunt Edie? In recent months the subject of immigrants, border fences and national security has filled the airways. Aunt Edie is an example of past times. Coming from Ireland she was a textile worker. That was probably a useful profession in 1929. When she applied for that visa she was sure that immigrating to USA would give her a better life than staying in Belfast. I know that thought pattern continues today. People only leave home when the benefits on the other side of the fence are clearly better. For Aunt Edie, the ties to home were more powerful than the greener grass across the Atlantic. Every day, immigrants to USA – legal and illegal – make that same calculation. Fences, even double fences will not stop immigration. They will only change the arithmetic of the decision to come.

Is there an answer? As long as people view life in the USA as “better” they will try to come here. If our standards regress then immigration will naturally decline. Right now that might be happening but regression is not an acceptable policy. If we want to slow immigrants then the only real way is to help those other countries increase their standard of living. We give lots of aid but much of it is military aid. Sadly, in terms of our size, the amount of our practical help is small compared to countries like Norway. Maybe the solution to our immigration problem – and our declining image abroad – is not to become a walled and gated community but to spend that money raising standards in countries outside.

The camera doesn't lie . . . . Right!

Image manipulation is not new. Anyone who has watched a TV series about Henry VIII knows the problems caused by a flattering portrait. Holbein painted one of Anne of Cleves and showed it to Henry. Henry agreed to the marriage but when he finally met his betrothed he called her a “fat Flanders mare”. History suggests that Holbein exercised too much artistic license. Today, we take photo manipulation almost for granted. Of course, photographs have always been manipulated. There are the classic examples from the early Soviet era. Former party faithful who fell from favor were not only physically removed. Their images were skillfully airbrushed from any group photographs and history was rewritten. Less dramatically, photographs of movie stars and politicians and all those beautiful people in magazine ads are also retouched. In every photographic studio creative lighting enhanced features, clever poses hid signs of too many calories and double chins were banished with a raised head and flattering camera angle.

Lighting choices, lens type and camera viewpoint are still powerful tools. They still require skill to use. At another level, digital cameras and simple software have given everyone with a computer the power to change photographs. Most of us use these tools with little thought. “Red-eye” correction and removing skin blemishes are every-day examples. Blurring the skin to reduce wrinkles, brightening teeth and removing stray hair could be considered simple courtesy for a lady. But where does courtesy end? When do we become a twenty-first century edition of Holbein? Today, I can buy a program that will restore skin texture, remodel the nose, contour chin and cheeks, adjust the brow and hairline and enhance the eyes – all with a few clicks of a mouse. The final image is an artistic masterpiece – but is it still a photograph? Equally important, does it matter if the subject is happy with the result?

It is a fool-hardy blogger who would post portraits and confirm that the camera was lying. Those concerns do not apply to flowers. The image above was taken early in the morning with a macro lens and a small aperture for good depth of focus. Those choices started the manipulation before the shutter was pressed. The geranium below was taken in the afternoon using a very fast telephoto lens to achieve a shallow depth of focus and a fuzzy background. The photograph was also de-saturated to give a pastel appearance. Those choices yield very different images. As for the saxophonist at the beginning, he was left in peace to play cool jazz – only the backgrounds were slightly modified to return the buildings to vertical.

Old Photographs - new media

Last night I scanned some 20-year old 35 mm slides for a friend. The scans were straightforward so at the end I included this slide. The photograph is about 45 years old, the colors are fading and the surface needs to be cleaned. But, with a few computer adjustments the scene can be quickly restored to a presentable image. Here is the Singapore River in 1964. I took the photograph when I was a teenager. I was returning home after a morning shopping in the city. In those days the river was a busy gateway for Singapore’s imports and exports. If you visit this spot today you will find that those buildings in the background have been renovated. They are now restaurants and bars. A few boats also remain but their only cargoes are sight-seeing tourists. That empty skyline is now filled with giant office buildings.

Moving this image from film to my computer and the Internet was easy. In 45 years, will it will be as easy to move my digital photographs? I store my digital photographs on a computer hard drive. I also make back-ups on CDs. I read that CDs last a long time – perhaps more than 45 years. But will the equipment to read those CDs still be available when it is needed?

The first computer in our home had two floppy disk drives. During the past 20 years floppy disks improved, they changed format several times and they have disappeared from most computers. Any personal information stored on floppy disks is effectively lost. The same applies to business information. All those old files, reports and spreadsheets so carefully preserved on floppy disks might as well be forgotten. In most offices the only way to recover anything older than 10 years is to hope that it was printed and filed. Like my old slides, those printed copies can be scanned and resurrected to a new electronic life. In 2008 we can process a paper copy of Christopher Marlowe’s Tamburlaine published in 1587 but not an electronic copy stored on a floppy disk in 1987.

Cities are not the only things that change with time. People and lifestyles also change as we enjoy the “benefits” of progress. I photographed these Qashqai ladies one spring day as they moved with their family and flocks from the area around Shiraz in southern Iran. I wonder if the scene still exists today.

This slide is only 30 years old so the colors are still bright. The image is more than a travel record to me. It still conjures the emotions I felt then; a thrilling journey in an exotic landscape, my excited children (before they became “cool” teens and adults), the companionship of my wife and her parents, my worries about the reliability of the car on remote roads, all mixed with the fun of a family outing amid beautiful scenery. Photographs capture memories and emotions. I wonder if the moments captured by my digital camera last week will still be readable when technology had advanced another few years.

Yokohama

My first assignment to Japan began twenty years ago this week. In the intervening years I have returned many times. A lot has changed since I first arrived in 1988. Surprisingly, much also remains the same. My latest visit was last October when I spent almost three weeks in Yokohama. Twenty years ago the trains ran like clockwork but there were few signs in English to guide novice travelers. I became adept at reading the map outside station and counting stops to make sure I got off at the correct destination. Today, electronics make everything much easier. Most train compartments include digital signs that display the approaching station name in Kanji, Hiragana and English. This makes rail travel much more relaxing.

The area around Yokohama has changed dramatically. The new development of Minato Mairi that began in the late 90’s is nearing completion. The docks of the old shipyard are now a tourist attraction surrounded by a splendid shopping mall, tall office buildings and international hotels. A focal attraction is the Nippon Maru. This is a former sail training ship and is now transformed into a maritime museum.

But the traditional Japanese character still remains in Yokohama. Twenty years ago I was introduced to the simple pleasures of okonomiyaki. This is a batter cake that can contain vegetables, shrimp, squid, . . .just about anything the diner requests. Most okonomiyaki restaurants are set up as grill-it-yourself and the result looks like a well filled omelet. Twenty years ago I first visited this small restaurant located off Honmoku-dori. Last October I wandered along memory lane with my Pentax and was pleasantly surprised to see it is still in business. Cooking okonomiyaki is best enjoyed with friends – a bit like a fondue evening. I was alone so I didn’t look in to see if the owners have changed. Maybe next time.

Quiet subjects

I was taking photographs at a church event last Sunday morning when the need to plough through the instruction manuals that came with my digital camera was driven home. The event was held in a well-lit “fellowship” room. Even so, I used flash to ensure that shutter speeds were fast enough to freeze movement. I also used a 31mm f/1.7 prime lens. On the K10D that lens provides coverage very close a standard 50mm lens in a 35mm film camera. It is wide enough to capture good groups and long enough so that the camera is not stuck under the subject’s nose. J gave me this lens as a Christmas present and it is wonderful. It is legendary within the Pentax fold for sharpness at wide apertures. Even so, I decided to “stop-down” to make sure I had sufficient depth of field to keep everyone in a group in focus. With flash working I started to the first batch of photographs. Horrors – when I checked the results some time later they were all taken at f/1.7. The point of focus was sharp as expected from this lens but people standing near by were blurry. It was then that I noticed the camera was set to “Program” mode. Instead of following my careful settings it was following another set of instructions buried deep in the set-up menus. A turn of the dial imposed human control and I took the final images the way I planned.

I appreciate the assistance that modern cameras provide. I don’t want to give up my integrated light meter or auto focus. But as Sunday proves, these aids can be subversive especially with subjects that only offer one chance to take the shot. For me, those are usually people. Maybe that is why I love photographing flowers. They don’t move. They don’t get bored waiting while I compose the shot and they patiently continue to look beautiful if I want to repeat the shots from a slightly different viewpoint. Most of my human subjects loudly complain if the picture is not taken when they say “cheese”. The dragonfly above was in my back yard. The orchid below is growing in my son’s new greenhouse in North Carolina. Both were very, very patient.

From "have not" to "have"

My last job with “Big Oil” was an assignment to a country not a million miles from here. For part of the time I was assigned to a site building an oil production facility. It was located about two hours drive from the nearest “large” town. For twelve months I travelled each Monday morning to the site and returned on Friday to my wife who remained in the capital. During that week I lived in a “single-wide” mobile home. This was located on a camp that dated back to days when the Seven Sisters controlled the country’s oil wealth. A high security fence enclosed a self-contained community. Within the wire were a well financed school, medical center, social club and swimming pool, supermarket, barbershop and beauty salon and even a 9-hole golf course with lighting so that oil company employees could complete their golf round without concern for the early tropical dusk. The camp had secure electric supply, treated water and mains sewage. We even had satellite TV and mobile phone service. It was remote, but not a hardship assignment.

On my drive to the construction site each morning I passed another community. This had no security fence, no supermarket, no swimming club, and no golf club. There was a few-room school but it had fewer teachers, no finance and no facilities. There was electricity and water. I never asked what happened to the sewage but in that community a well-developed sense of smell was not an asset.

There are a couple of verses in Matthew that always jar when I hear them. They are the ones that go, “whoever has will be given more . . . . whoever does not have, even that which he has will be taken away from him.” Jesus was not talking about worldly possessions but those verses came to mind each morning when I left my trailer and travelled to work. The gulf between those who had and those who had not was so embarrassingly evident.

The people of that country elected a new government almost ten years ago. So far, the gulf between rich and poor has not been removed. Still, I remain hopeful. During my adult life I have watched as an island country in Asia with no natural resources but a hard working and educated people became a commercial powerhouse. There is no reason why oil wealth should not be used to help nations closer to home follow that path.

I took the photograph above one afternoon when college students were on their way home. These are the future of that country. I am always nervous when taking street photographs. There are photographers who seem to merge with the crowd. I always feel that everyone is looking at me. I am tensed for that angry shout. That shout has not come yet and when I look at the images nobody is looking at the camera. Maybe I am invisible after all.

Serendipity not Perspicacity

It is easy to get lost in politics. It is even easier to imagine that you have the answers to the nation’s problems. Maybe that is why multi-millionaires are happy to spend their money seeking a job that pays $400,000 and why others vie to be Vice President and earn $186,000 per year. So for this epistle I intend to return to photography.

There are several web sites that keep track of the vast number of digital cameras in the shops. One I regularly watch is Digital Photography Review. Just about every camera on the market today is capable of taking perfect photographs. My Pentax K10D is “Highly Recommended”. With interchangeable lenses, this camera is probably better than the equipment used most past photographers who have had their work printed. So why don’t my photographs show that quality?

I am sure that good photographs are a combination of three things: technique, hard work and creativity. Technique is the easy part because it can be learnt. Hard work is more difficult. All photographers know about the special qualities of light around dawn and dusk. Photographing at dusk is easy but many amateurs rarely get up before dawn to be in the right place when the sun breaks through. In his book Galen Rowell tells of how he jogged in the thin Tibetan air to get to a location where the perspective placed the Potala at the base of a rainbow. That photograph is a masterpiece. Galen Rowell was a master photographer. His photographs confirm a motto in one of my old college organic chemistry books, “Perspicacity not Serendipity”.

One of my favorite Sci-Fi novels is “Glory Road”. This is a standard knight errant tale that happens to be set on distant planets. The hero fights dragons, recovers the lost treasure and wins the girl – who just happens to be Empress of multiple universes. What makes this novel so interesting is that it does not end with the hero living happily ever after. He becomes bored with nothing to do. Even with all that wealth his life has no purpose. In one telling episode the hero describes his attempt to create jewelry. He has gemstones without limit but his creations lack sparkle. He lacks that gift of creativity.

There are times when I feel that way about my photographs. I have the tools and I work on the technique. Sometimes, I even put in the hard work necessary to be in the right space at the right time. Even so, like the creations of that hero in Glory Road, most of my results lack sparkle. But all is not yet lost. The great advantage of the digital camera is the “delete button”. There is always another day, another subject and another sunrise.


This sunset was taken from a hotel room in Puerto la Cruz, Venezuela. All the rooms in this hotel look out onto the bay and I have stayed there several times during business visits to Venezuela. On most trips the sun had set by the time I got back to the room but this time the meetings finished early. With camera at the ready I watched the sun disappear behind a bank of low cloud. I was convinced that there would be no color that night. I was about to change lens and focus on that boat in the foreground when the clouds flared into color. This photograph is the result – the only requirement, some technique.

People - here today; here tomorrow

I am an immigrant to the USA so it is probably natural I am interested in what the presidential candidates say about immigration. I have not heard a sensible position lately. They are all searching for a catchy news bite. That is sad, because immigration won’t be solved in 30-second news-bites. In a May 2006 article the Christian Science Monitor asked the question, “How many illegal immigrants?” The article included the diagram copied below (thanks, Christian Science Monitor!).

The article also said that about 4.7 million homes have at least one parent who is an illegal immigrant. If these homes have the “standard” 2.2 children then about 27 million people living in USA are directly affected by an immigration policy.

Several candidates claim that they will send illegal immigrants home. (Will they keep families together?) The candidates have not said how they will move 27 million people. The dark history of the 20^th century shows how that number of people might be moved. My parents and the rest of the “Greatest Generation” proudly showed us how democratic people dealt with those governments. Today, any candidate claiming that a democratic freedom-loving USA can send all illegal immigrants home is not truthful. If they did, the USA would not be the country we know and love.

I suspect that deep down, we want to remove 27 million people, build a wall along the border and give up the freedoms that define our country because we are afraid. Today, I see a USA that has lost its confidence. 9/11 did not only shatter two buildings. It shattered our psyche. Osama bin Laden must be laughing all the way to his cave.

People will continue to come to USA for the same reason I did: for the chance of a better future for our children and ourselves. Those who are really desperate will continue to come illegally: especially if employers will hire them and ask no questions. If government wants to stop further illegal immigrants then it must focus on employers. That only leaves the 12-20 million illegal immigrants currently living with us. I back the suggestion that gives them an opportunity to become legal citizens. People who are born here love this country. Those of us who are granted the privilege of citizenship love it just as much.

Over Christmas we saw several cartoons of the baby Jesus, his mother and father fleeing to Egypt. The point was not very subtle. It suggested that Joseph and his family were likely undocumented immigrants. I took the photograph above in Venezuela last year. It is a collection of posters on a wall near a subway station in Caracas. It suggests that Jesus was a revolutionary. Is there a grain of truth in these two very different images - the poster and the cartoon? I don’t know, but I recall that one central message in the Bible is that we should care for the poor, the oppressed and the stranger at our gate. Are those illegal immigrants today's "strangers?"

Jobs - here today, gone tomorrow

The recent primary in Michigan raised the question of unemployment at home and good jobs that have been lost overseas. Senator McCain said that some jobs would not return. He talked about retraining. Governor Romney claimed that he would encourage business to generate new jobs. I fear that Senator McCain was the more realistic. The United States is loosing more than blue-collar and industrial jobs. Large engineering companies that serve the oil industry have been moving work to other countries for years. They do not call it “outsourcing”. Instead work is assigned to “value engineering centers”. These “value engineering centers” are usually in countries like India, the Philippines, Turkey or the old Eastern Bloc. These countries all have one thing in common – educated workers who are paid less than the same skill earns the United States, Europe or Japan. So, US companies use them. European companies use them. Even Japanese companies use them.

When engineering outsourcing began, companies only exported easy and routine tasks. Later, simpler design and drafting were relocated. Now, those foreign centers have the skills and experience to engineer large parts of any industrial plant. The US, European and Japanese companies are still in control but they need fewer employees with higher skills and experience. Work is migrating to the management parts of their organizations. At the entry-level, US employees compete directly with young people at those “value engineering centers”. It does not need an economics degree to predict who will cost less and where the work will be done.

What about the future? Managers get their jobs because they have experience and ability. But, if all the junior jobs are outsourced, how will young US employees get the experience and skills they need to become managers? They can’t! The people working in the “value engineering centers” are just as well (maybe better?) educated as us. They are now getting the training and experience that was given to juniors in the US before outsourcing. Their kids, not ours will be the people who will build the future.



At one time this welder might have been working in USA. This photograph was taken in Korea. Skilled white-collar jobs are leaving US today just as this blue-collar job left US shipyards years ago.

Senator McCain’s proposal for more retraining may be a band-aid but it is not a cure. We need to change our business model. If we always demand the lowest cost then work will travel to people prepared to accept a smaller paycheck. It applies to the goods we find in Wal-Mart and it applies to design of major industrial projects. The jobs that once made televisions, toys, clothing, shoes, light bulbs or toasters will never return to the US. Only education and a willingness to pay a little more will keep the jobs we still have. Right now, the US is the market to the world. Maybe there is something to be said for import tariffs if they can stop the specter of our children and grandchildren with no livelihood. Certainly free trade has not brought the average worker the rewards that we expected.

Watching politicians at work

I have been watching the progress of the presidential hopefuls as they move from state to state and try to respond to questions without really saying anything. Questions about health care particularly interest me. I do not agree totally with Mayor Giuliani’s recent comment that our system is “the best in the world”. I think he forgot to add, “if you can afford it”. Governor Romney also proposed revisions to the health insurance market. He suggested his government will introduce a form of universal insurance similar to his plan in Massachusetts. I do not know the details of that system but I recognize that competition and market pressure work wonders for efficiency. Even so, I am not sure I really want my illness treated by the lowest bidder.

I am more saddened by the candidates’ answers to questions of pro-choice. Most profess concern for the life of an unborn fetus - and stop there. Their concern seems to end once a child is born. Have candidates ever talked about care for unborn children not in danger of abortion? The Center for Disease Control website states that in 1998 the United States ranked 28th in the world in infant mortality. That’s bad! In 2006, CNN reported that we have the second-worst newborn mortality rate in the developed world. We managed to do better than Latvia to avoid last place. Why don’t candidates comment about these deaths as well as those of the unborn? CNN also notes that we have more neonatologists and neonatal intensive care beds per person than other developed countries. This fact is in line with Mayor Giuliani’s comment about our great health system. However, it seems this wonderful system is not working for the children who need it.

I have been blessed with a wonderful grandson. That’s us exploring. As I watch him grow from an infant to a toddler and now to a “little boy” I give thanks that he has access to good health care. I also pray for the millions of grandchildren who do not have that "luxury". Health costs are reported to be one of the major reasons for bankruptcy in US. They are also reported to contribute to stress, debt, impoverishment and loss of homes. I am sure those stresses also contribute to the break-up of families. I admit that State health care my not be the “best in the world”. However, when my children were tiny and we lived in Europe we did not worry about the costs of pre-natal examinations, delivery or visits to the doctor when they suffered childhood illness. State health systems can work and access for all children should not be a “luxury”.

I consider myself to be a Christian. I believe that the Bible means what it says. I suppose that also makes me a fundamentalist. In my Bible James, who was a very practical and plain spoken Christian wrote,

“If a brother or sister be naked, and destitute of daily food, and one of you say unto them, ‘Depart in peace, be ye warmed and filled’; notwithstanding ye give them not those things which are needful to the body; what doth it profit? Even so faith, if it hath not works, is dead, being alone.”

I don’t think it is too much of a stretch to apply this concept of “put your money where your mouth is” to our health system. What use is any candidate who gives the “correct” answers about the unborn fetus if they have no thought - or plans - for the health care needs of the child and mother once the baby is born?