Real, True, Actual Headlines
Real, True, Actual Headlines
GM, UAW make progress; hurdles remain
Latest from the motor-city decathalon..
Conservatives eye possible AG nominee
Nominee sues for harassment.
Wesley Clark endorses Hillary Clinton
She's ticked because he used a laundry marker.
Marley estate disputes ringtone deal
Ghost of Christmas Past to testify.
Southwest fare sale honors miniskirts
But only for very short flights.
2nd woman: Southwest made me cover up
Topless fares not til next month.
Ancient records help test climate change
78 RPM's now play at 80 RPM due to heat.
Jury awards family $600 in Denny's suit
Actually, only the foreman wore Denny's suit.
In health care debate, U-word is back
Ugh.
Hungry bears plague US west after record drought
And lack of bees limits availability of hunny to feed 'em.
Winning bids made on Bonds' homer balls
I thik they call him "homie" rather than "homer."
Why is it?
Why is it?
Why is it that when you're driving, looking for an address, you turn the radio down?
Why is it that you never see the headline: "Psychic Wins Lottery!"?
Why is it that the third hand on a watch is called the second hand?
Green River, Wyoming
Green River, Wyoming
and naming things what they aren't
When I was a young architect, I worked for a man who specialized in designing public schools for school districts in small and rural communities. For some time, our office was very busy across the sparsely-populated southern tier of Wyoming.
The owner of the firm was an architect, but he seldom designed anything. His unique talent was salesmanship. He was very personable, and like many successful businessmen, actually preferred to be away from home, living in hotels, eating out, and spending a lot of time "entertaining" in bars and cocktail lounges. Entertaining clients, or maybe just young ladies he met who might someday become clients.
One of his weaknesses, however, was that he would spontaneously give away services or promise delivery times or special contract features with no regard to whether we, the employees, would be able to deliver them or whether they would result in the firm losing money. He always made the sale, but it was occasionally at a cost higher than the fee.
One such promise was to open an office in Green River, Wyoming. Green River is at the southwest corner of Wyoming, close to the border of Wyoming with Colorado and with Utah. In those days, the speed limit on the Interstate highway system was 55 miles per hour. And, in Wyoming, it was enforced rigorously. Our employer, whose time was at a premium, would generally fly there from Colorado Springs, where our office was located, the highway speed limits were of little consequence to him.
Even flying there was time consuming. One actually couldn't fly to Green River, as it had no airport. The nearest airport was in Rock Springs, a larger town 18 miles east along Interstate 80, requiring you to rent a car (there was not a whole lot of choice in car rentlas at the Rock Springs airport) and drive those 18 miles. In the winter, that 18 miles might as well have been 100 miles some days, as this is among the most treacherous highways I have ever driven.
But employees, of course, were given no such treatment. We would drive all the way to Green River, a trip of about 400 miles, or over eight hours at 55 mph (incliding potty stops, etc.). Although there were no architects in Green River, there were architects in Wyoming, and the boss felt at a disadvantage competing with them in interviews (especially for tax-funded school projects) coming from out-of-state and from a distance of over eight hours. And you must also remember, this was before the era of cell phones, computers, the internet, or even common fax machines (we had one, but practically no one else did), so such a distance was more real than it is today. Long distance was expensive (all bought from Ma Bell, at that time), and reimbursement for long distance calls was often one of the things he felt he had to give away to be competitive with more local firms.
So, in his eagerness to win a commission, he once promised the school board there that if we were awarded a particular project, he would open an office there. It was hard to argue with his instincts on issues like this, because although this may have been a rash promise, it was apparently enough to get the job. Now it was up to us to fulfill his promise.
Where would the office be? Would it just be a store-front operation? The boss knew we couldn't just have an address there which was open only when an employee happened to be in town; to fulfill the spirit of his promise, it had to be manned ... someone in our office had to live in Green River.
So it was, that only two years after being discharged from the Air Force, I came to be offered the job of heading up an architectural office. An office of one, to be sure, but still. Maybe two, if we could arrange for a receptionist.
So, I packed up my three family, and we headed off to Green River in our VW Station Wagon (VW bus as it was known generally.)
Here are three facts about I-80 through Wyoming that are important to anyone planning a trip there in a VW bus:
1) I-80 is a very long and VERY windy road.
2) I-80 has a LOT of heavy truck traffic.
3) The VW bus is a spinnaker on wheels.
The synthesis of these three facts is that I had to tack and wrestle my vehicle for over eight grueling hours across the moonscape that is southern Wyoming. Karen said southern Wyoming looks like the entire world will look when man gets done with it. It even looks stark and lifeless to eyes like ours that were used to the barrenness of the Sonoran Desert of northern Mexico and southern Arizona. Not a windbreak in sight to ease the gusty, forceful blasts across the highway. Not even any cactus ... nothing growing could withstand the relentless wind. Or maybe it had all blown down to Colorado; I don't know.
There was nothing there to block the wind. Except for the trucks, that is. Whenever we passed a truck (or, in the VW bus, whenever one passed us) the wind would abruptly stop, causing the steering wheel to suddenly jerk to the right (the wind always blew from right to left at a 45ยบ angle from the front, regardless of which direction you were driving) then just as abruptly resumed at the previous 50 mph when the pass was completed. This would happen maybe 24,642 times during the eight hour trip. Or so.
Now, all of this was fueled by three considerations on my part. #1, this would be a good move for me career-wise (maybe.) It would substantially increase my status in the firm, and would move me into management activities, which is the up-ladder in architecture. (On the other hand, we realized that this would also steer me into a life in the small architectural pond which was Wyoming.) #2, a large raise was promised should I accept this position. #3, Green River sounded nice. A river. Nice greenery around it ... maybe willows and oaks along the grassy banks, trees leaning over the meandering flow, shading it like a Disney fantasy.
Here we encounter the phenomenon of "naming things what they're not." The underlying principle of this is that when pioneers name their new homes, they use one of two rationales:
a) We really need other pioneers to come here in order for this to be a success, so for God's sake, don't name this place honestly, or ...
b) There's hardly any (water, shade, hills, trees, pleasant view) around for 500 miles, but there is a little (water, shade, hill, tree, view) here, so let's name it that.
So, wary traveler, be cautious when traveling to towns named, for example "Sweetwater;" you can be pretty sure that name is an indication there isn't any other source of potable water for a least a day's horse ride in any direction. Likewise, beware "Prairie Glen" (only trees for 1000 miles), "Pleasant View" (damned with faint praise), "White Rock" (after long study, the best feature), Cold Springs (otherwise, hot and dry!), "Ojos Calientes" (when you can't hide it, put it in another language!), and Green River.
This last is not at all misleading, actually, once you know the territory. The river is indeed green. The river itself, that is. The water. The water is green. Good thing, too, because it's about the only green thing in a four-county area; the rest is rocks.
The nearby "large" town is Rock Springs. Another name that should give one caution. Other than a physical setting that was grandurous but also lifeless, among my first impressions of Rock Springs and Green River were that they offered drive-through liquor by the drink, and drive-up ammunition sales. Yes, that's right, not only was there no open-container law, but you could actually buy a Tom Collins or a Margarita at a drive-ip window, in a paper cup at your friendly local bar or liquor store. And drive away drinking it! Down the street to the sporting goods store for a few rounds of 22-long-rifles.
Long before the SUV craze swept the nation, Green River was filled with Suburbans, Crew-Cab pickups, and Jeep Wagoneers. Gee, the roads were pretty good, and it was so hot and dry, why was it necessary to have such a rugged, off-road vehicle? Were all these people interested in back-country camping? Yeah, well come back in January! On-road driving is plenty challenging enough!
Anyway, sitting in the local pizza parlor (this was before Green River had been franchised into submission), breathing in the cleaning fluid fumes from the dry-cleaners' next door in the strip-mall, we decided that, regardless of the many potential benefits, a move here might not be the best thing for our little family.
Still seems right.
The Ladder of Death
The Ladder of Death
I ran across an interesting moral quandary a few days ago. Or, should I say, I thankfully only nearly ran across it?
Driving down a busy urban interstate freeway, I spotted cars a few spaces ahead of me making abrupt turns and swerves, with lots of brake lights and horns. Quickly, as we sped down the road (slowing down, though!), I saw an extension ladder emerge from under the pickup truck immediately in front of me.
Yikes! Luckily, I only had to maneuver slightly to avoind running over it. It looked as if it had been hit several times already, and there was debris on the road that suggest that also - ladder debris as well as car-part debris. Shortly afterward, I passed a truck pulled over on the shoulder, with a worried-looking man standing too close to the traffic lane, looking back at the ladder. On the truck were several other ladders, miscellaneous other equipment and tools, and frayed nylon ropes blowing around in the breeze of the passing traffic.
I couldn't watch this drama unfold in my rear-view mirror as there was too much traffic, although I wanted to! But it set me thinking.
I have often seen hazardous odds and ends of junk on interstate highways, and always had the same thought ... didn't whoever lost this item realize it? Now I've got another question: If you lose something like this that represents a hazard to other motorists - a potentially lethal hazard! - what is the right thing to do?
Setting asidefor a minute the moral implications of the origin of the problem - an unsecured load - this scenario, once it has happened, can have no good conclusion. Stopping in traffic to retrieve the item is suicidal. Stopping by the side of the road seems necessary, although, like this fellow, once you have done that, then what? Darting out into traffic is not only suicidal, but likely more hazardous to other drivers than whatever it was you dumped on the highway.
Standing just looking at it certainly seems unproductive.
I assume that eventually, either the item is ushered off to the side of the road, one side or the other, by repeated and damaging minor collisions from unsuspecting or slow-reacting drivers, or, a police car finally comes along, turns on their flashers to stop traffic, and the object gets removed "safely." In either case, lots of accidents, large or small, potentially with injuries or even deaths, could happen, whatever you do.
Se here's my question: Other than simply not dropping stuff on the freeway, if such an accidental spill does occur to you, what's the right thing to do? I don't know.
President Fred
President Fred
As we reconcile ourselves to another fourteen months (!) of presidential election politics, I think it is none too early to consider what I, personally, believe to be one of the most important considerations for selecting our next prime news-maker ... their names.
We will have to live with a new president (*) beginning in 2009, and if history is any guide, nothing discussed in the run-up to the election will be pertinent to his/her administration after the first six weeks or so.
But the new president's name will go on for four to eight years, and will be assigned to middle school kids to memorize then forget for the foreseeable future. So we must be very, very careful to elect someone whose name we can live with for along, long time. And, not to be overlooked, it would be good to elect someone who would make for really good editorial cartoon caricatures.
So, let us consider the Democratic Candidates:
Joe Biden - Okay ... "President Joe" has a good, solid, working-class American sound to it, and "President Joseph" would be a great person to deliver a Christmas message to the nation. Biden, though simply coaxes plays on "biding his time," and how's he ever going to overcome that plagiarism thing?
Likewise, Christopher, John, Mike (a personal favorite), Dennis and Bill would work just fine, with the first three also having a nice Biblical echo to them. Christopher Dodd, Dennis Kucinich, and Bill Richardson would make for great cartoons. "President Kucinich" would take a little getting used to, but is nicely ethnic. I think we should avoid "President Gravel" at all costs.
Al Gore (undeclared) has all the virtues of Joe Biden, and "Albert" has about as much gravitas as "Joseph." "President Gore" has an unfortunate potential should we be involved in future wars or terrorism, I'm afraid. Plus cartoonists already have him pegged, and four to eight years of cartoon weight concerns would grow tiresome. Also, I would hate to see such a nice guy get ruined by that office.
Also waiting in the wings is Wesley Clark, which would be pretty good, but would doubtless lead to "Wes vs. East" headlines. But I could easily imagine "President Clark" whipping off his glasses and power tie in a phone booth on the editorial pages of the nation.
The leading canidiates, Hillary Clinton and Barack Obama open whole new horizons in these considerations. I think our stature throughout the world would skyrocket if either of these people was elected, if only because foreigners already can't figure America out, and would really have to scratch their heads over these names. Literally dozens of jokes come to mind with Hillary (hilarious, capitol hillary, helicopter hillary, etc.), and she is a wondrous fount of opportunities for editorial cartoons, not only of herself, but of her history with her hsuband, her previous residence in the White House, being a woman, etc. "President Hillary" sounds fine, (I don't really see "Hill" gaining traction) and "President Clinton" still sounds just great to me, thank you.
Both "President Barack" and "President Obama" would take some getting used to, but what a deserved shock it would be to foreigners who think they know what we're all about. I doubt he'd get a shortened nickname ... "Bar?" "President Obama" sounds great to me, as it has slight Irish overtones which cartoonists could make use of, maybe. Potential jokes about "Al Obama" if he visits there? He's already a solid subject of political cartoonists, and has not been graphically savaged (yet) by anyone that I know of so far.
Republican Candidates:
Sam, Mike, John, Ron, Tom, and Fred are all pretty middle-America names. Heck, we've already had presidents with most of these names. Fred just sounds so warm and fuzzy (memories of Fred Freindly), I'm afraid folks might vote for him on that basis alone. Not to mention, Fred Thompson would make a dynamite caricature. Just try to overlook his politics. "President Tancredo", or "Presdient Huckaby" would be hard sells, frankly. "President Paul" has a disturbingly ambiguous quality about it, although he would be something else to watch as the chief.
Brownback invites smarmy headlines, especially on immigration issues. McCain and Hunter sound Scottish, which could be entertaining for fiscal conservatives. John McCain would be a cartoonist's best friend. But I'm not sure about "President Duncan", which has both dunking and Shakesperean potentials, and I have real problems with "President Mitt." Come on, who's going to take "President Mitt" seriously?
Watiing on the sidelines on the right are Richard Micahel Smith and Michael Charles Smith - no possibility of confusion there! And the three-name thing says bad things about their egos (why oh why wouldn't he go with the super-sophisticated R. Michael Smith?) Alan Keyes has a dynamite last name ... just think of the tag lines! Colin Powell has a solid last name, but "President Colin" could turn ugly. "President Rice" might have some appeal around the world, and she is easy to caricature either flatteringly or not, not to mention Codoleezza would absolutely be the all-time best first name for a president, ever. Rick Santorum just sounds like death warmed over ... sorry.
Finally, we have "President Newt," possibly. God Save Us.
(*) That's disregarding the all-too-real possibility (you heard it here first!) that the current administration will contrive a national emergency (dare I say another national emergency?), declare martial law, cancel elections, and simply crown George Bush "President for Life." Or worse, pass the baton publically to the current actual president, President Cheney. Doesn't anyone remember Lon Cheney?
