Politics

I get so tired of politics. Yet, I learned years ago that politics results from allocating resources. There is never enough, the needs of a group, community, city, state and finally the country are so great that resources are always allocated. Anytime you allocate resources you end up vying for your share. Therefore, political maneuvering results trying to gain your share or greater of the resources you want.

What are these resources? Everything. Electrical power, water, land, money, food, air, transportation. Everything we use or want is a resource to be expended. Health care, insurance, automobiles, fuel sources, and housing are all wants that require the use of resources to fill the need.

So, I guess politics will always be a factor to be reckoned with. I hope to reduce my dependency on politics. In a few years when I retire Terry and I hope to work our land more efficiently to yield more food crops that reduce our dependency on store bought supplies. There are a lot of things to consider, storage, what types of crops to grow, and improving our care of our crops far beyond what we do now. The problem is we are growing old. The energy and stamina that once was present is diminished and interest wanes over time. Yet year after year Terry revitalizes our flower beds and we have a nice display of flowers, shrubs and plant variety that is pleasing to the eye. Perhaps without the requirement to leave the homestead daily to go to work we shall have more time to expend on our land without over taxing our own personal resources.

I look forward to the challenge.

Swearing politicians

An article in Time talked about how politicians are caught using some type of swear word and how they try to control their use of the language. I say good for them. I know Joe Biden is a democrat. I do enjoy hearing him speak though. Not speeches on topics but when he spoke at Ted Kennedy's funeral it was warm, witty, personal and you knew how much he thought of Ted and the rest of the Kennedys. It seems to me that there are two types of swearing: 1. that which is meant to outrage, offend, or just gross us out; and 2. that which adds to, embellishes or helps make a strong point.

I swear. My daughters have been known to utter a word or two. I think when we smack our thumb with a hammer one of the best natural pain relievers is a string of foul obscenities and curse words that tend to pull some pain from the body and dissipate it into the atmosphere.

There is an emphasis to "hell no" that does not exist in a simple no. There is a point of emphasis that is expanded when one says, "what the fuck is that?" Among comrades there can be a warmth expressed that goes beyond just the words when I might say, "well you old bastard, you did good!" There is an intimacy to that kind of statement that others may not achieve. There may be some one on the fringe of the conversation who say to themselves, "I will have arrived when he calls me an old bastard."

Now I have some relatives who tend to use cursing and obscenities for shock value. That is a misuse of the the art of cursing. That is ignorance of language that allows for that kind of expression. It also is ignorance of being able to express themselves in a fashion that could be done better without shocking the pants off some little old ladies who overhear such and outburst.

Swear for effect, not out of ignorance or inability to convey your meaning in a more acceptable fashion. As for politicians swearing, I think it provides a sense of reality that otherwise would not exist. It gives us a measure of the person's passion. So I hope they continue to embellish their style with a few well chosen words. Damn right!

An Odd Day

I did not feel to chipper last week. I had some digestive track problems that actually made me feel ill. I got past that by Wednesday morning last, but my back was sore because of the work I had done the week before. It was on the mend though.

Then comes Friday. I woke up about 1:30 AM perspiring. That is unusual for me. I got up, used the bathroom and came back to bed. All of a sudden my heart was beating irregularly. It felt like an A-fib episode which I find completely aggravating. I don't feel threatened other than if it persists it means a trip to the hospital to get straightened out, and if it persists long enough it means I may have to take blood thinners the rest of my life. So tension runs high if I have an episode.

I kept feeling my pulse and could get no regular beat. I did feel the telltale flutter or pressure under my breast bone. However, I did not feel fatigued, out of breath, or weak which are also common symptoms of and A-fib attack. So I got up and monitored the condition. I took an extra rythmole pill as the cardiologist had suggested. All of a sudden my heart rate zoomed up to 120 bpm. That is unusual for me. I take so much medication that slows my heart down that 90 is high for me. The other thing that happened was the fluttering in my chest stopped. However, upon checking my pulse I still seemed to have an irregular rate, but now it was fast. I got up to 130 bpm.

The night passed and as day broke, my heart was going too fast and it was difficult to get steady pulse, but I actually felt pretty good. I could not feel the high pulse rate. So I decided to go to work. The day passed but my heart rate stayed elevated until about 4 PM when it seemed to drop some. Then the fluttery sensation seemed to come back, but more like pvcs instead of A-fib. I could detect the telltale "skip" in the heart beat indicative of pvcs. So I wasn't worried, pvcs don't kill you.

When I got home a little after five I did feel tired from the long day. I checked my bp and it was good, 139/85 but the pulse was 128. As long as my BP didn't go up too high I felt things were OK. I lay on the bed after dinner and rested. About 7 PM I noticed a nice strong heart rhythm and the pulse rate had dropped to 62. BP was good, in fact is was 111/72. So I chalked up the day to a different day and still feel fine as of the writing of this blog some 20 hours later.

Ain't life a hoot?

Oh Rand

What has Rand Paul stirred up? Actually not much. There are many people who hold varying degrees of Mr. Paul's philosophy. I have a friend who told me that he believes that if a group of people wanted to live in a community where it was OK to shoot one another if offended they could. Wow! He was serious. He followed up with the question: "Who would want to live in such a place?" Almost as a way of excusing his extremism. If the federal government takes the right to regulate citizen's behavior then as an article written by Tamar Jacoby for CNN says then could the government regulate what men might wear in public. Could we outlaw mustaches? It comes to a matter of degree doesn't it?

One of Ms. Jacoby"s strongest arguments is that the Civil Rights Act of 1875, yes Victoria, there was a Civil Rights Act in 1875, was ignored by citizens of the United States. The law banned discrimination "in public places such as inns, and public conveyances on land and water." To me that is a fatal argument to those that would propose no government interference. I suppose one could say, the government should not interfere in private matters. To some degree that is already true. I do not have to open my house to anyone of any race, gender, creed or religious affiliation. That is not what government is about though.

What we are really talking about here is human behavior. If we had designated an area where killing of your fellow man was legal, that you could live their as long as you could survive without penalty there would be people who would attempt the lifestyle. How would you handle the situation where late in the evening a disgruntled spouse drove his/her spouse into that area, murdered him/her and then left the area to return to their lives without any penalty because of where the killing took place. I guess then the local government would have to place restrictions on who could become a citizen of such an area. Now a government entity is regulating my behavior.

What makes the Federal government's regulation so abhorrent that people would believe a state, county or community could do any better. How do I know when I travel across this grand country the laws that are in effect in the various areas. I guess posting a listing of the local laws outside of town would be a good way, then I can stop at the state, county, or city limits and determine whether or not I wanted to enter the area.

You can see that these Libertarian arguments end up short. They are very similar to Free Market arguments in economics. Yet, the idea that people would resist socially repressive actions just isn't borne out in reality. We deem pornography as being socially offensive yet porn sites get the greatest number of "hits" of any website on the system. We find the news that "sells" tends to portray the dark side of human nature. Look at the so called "reality" shows on TV. Often they show human behavior at its worst. Bad Boy, Bad Boy.

Collectively we say how could a person beat of child or a spouse, yet we are riveted by the images. Some of our most popular sports rely on mayhem for their main attraction, the NFL, NHL, rodeos, and the infamous sport of wrassling and no holds barred fighting. I find it hard to believe that we would be so self-regulating that we could tolerate a wide open society.

So, while Rand Paul's statement about the Civil Rights Act of 1964 are extreme, what about the fact that to discriminate is just wrong. What about the fact that abusing one's spouse, child or pet is just wrong. Allowing companies to have unfettered access to capital and pay their employees millions of dollars in bonus when their actions damn near put the economy under is wrong. Allowing some people to refuse to buy insurance, yet use my money when they have an emergency is just plain wrong.

It isn't wrong to wish for Utopia. Wouldn't it be nice. Too often though, people who dream such thought don't think of what happens when the people living in Utopia don't behave in a Utopian manner.

Devastating Impact

A volcano has begun to erupt in Iceland. The name is incomprehensible. I'll just refer to it as Iceland Volcano No. 1. It is creating an ash plume that is being distributed over northern Europe by winds that tend to blow from West to East in the northern hemisphere. This morning I watched a short video on CNN about the volcano. The last time this volcano erupted in 1820 it erupted for two years. Of course commercial flight had not been invented then. But now, what impact will this plume have on northern Europe. So far over 17,000 flights have been canceled. What about the trade conferences, the normal business conducted in the area, and air freight delivery. Just think if your travel plans became restricted to ferries and trains. What if that lasted two years? It will be interesting to see how adaptable the social structure is, and what adaptation will take place. I have no doubt that the situation will be overcome, but I have a hard time visualizing how. I suspect it will have more to do with the technology of communication than it will with the adaptation of travel means. We shall see.

Lying nearby Volcano No 1 is another volcano that through history has erupted about every 70 years. It has now been 90 years since it last erupted. It is felt to be a more powerful volcano than No. 1. What does this portend for our friends in Europe?

A Little Log Cabin in Arkansas

The title of this posting tends to be the title of a newsletter I publish to our family once a week. It also reflects the life style my wife and I enjoy in our real log cabin in the Arkansas woods. Living on 10 acres and a log cabin requires a great deal of time. I'm not sure everyone would be cut out for this life, but it seems to suit Terry and I. The place is not a show place. It has a couple of expired lawn mowers sitting by the garage. The garage is just that, an ugly building with some cheap siding but it houses a treasure chest of tools and the all important "stuff." Rooms in the house are under repair. I have hopes of remodeling the bathroom and making it into a pleasant room that reflects our taste which tends to old and rustic.

I did not know about log homes when I bought this place back in November 1988. I did not have the time nor the money to keep the place up properly and now mentally kick myself for not doing more. Regardless it is what it is. I invested about $16,000 last fall having rotten logs replaced and the surface blasted back to a base log look. Now with the work of our daughter Tracy's boyfriend we are coating the place with 2 coats of stain and one of a clear coat. We've applied the first coat of stain, yesterday, April 4, 2010. It looks good. The color is called Warm Honey and it does look like that. The logs have a soft yellow appearance but with the underlying log grain and patina it looks wonderful.

We are going to try to apply the second coat of stain this week and the clear coat by week's end. Providing Zeb, the painter, can hold out. I find myself becoming so interested in how the place is going to turn out I can hardly wait. In the meantime we sit in a home where all of the windows are covered with plastic and can't see outside other than to know it is either daylight or dark.

I tried to do the work myself. Saturday afternoon, with the help of Sam, our grandson, I attempted to stain the place. First of all I discovered I did not have the work thought out very well. The paint sprayer I bought does an excellent job and puts out a tremendous volume, but you actually spend more time moving ladders than you do spraying. Towards the end of the day I was fatigued and trying too hard. That is a dangerous combination for me. I seem to lose the ability to exercise care and end up stumbling around like a bull in a china shop.

I fell off a ladder. I was not using the ladder as I should have. I had the ladder, "Little Giant," in an A frame position and was working from the side. I lost my balance and started to fall back. Unable to find anything to catch myself I eventually got past the point of return and the ladder kicked out from under me. Down I went, perhaps four feet. I landed on some stones we have for decoration in a flower bed. Worse, I struck my head against a log end. From the look of the wound it was a sharp corner. I was stunned and lay there for several minutes. Blood ran everywhere. Finally Sam found some paper towels and I was able to get up. The wound bled profusely. Fortunately it was about 4 pm and Terry came home from work for dinner. She was able to clean up the area some and the bleeding lessened. However, it oozed blood most of the night. She dressed the wound when she came home at 9 pm, but I was so sore. My back hurt, my side, my legs all where I had made contact with wood, stone and earth. I was really afraid I would have trouble getting out of bed the next morning.

Well I got out of bed Sunday morning. The Aleeve had done its work, fairly well. I was stiff but not as sore as the night before. As the morning progressed I got a little looser and even began entertaining thoughts of mounting the ladders again. However, my lovely wife intervened. She called our daughter Tracy and asked if Zeb could come over and help. They did, and it was wonderful. Zeb paints cars for a living and is an excellent worker. He painted, I moved ladders for him, replenished the sprayer, picked up trash, taped windows, etc. He did the bulk of the physical work, but I was with him every step of the way. We finished coat one by about 4 pm Sunday afternoon.

In the meantime Terry prepared a wonderful turkey dinner feast with homemade cornbread/bread dressing with pecans. Wonderful gravy, and green beans completed the meal. A homemade strawberry cake with philly cheese frosting for dessert gave the feeling of old time work groups. The men work outside, the women in. Terry worked hard, just as hard as any of the rest of us. So the day came together, people came together and a task was accomplished. From the depths of aches and pains and frankly some despair Saturday afternoon to a fun filled dinner, tired bodies and a job well done.

Terry had an enjoyable visit with granddaughter Kimberly about sewing and the evening ended well. Bed and Aleeve were especially luxurious. It hurts to turn over and I am experiencing some balance issues when I get up from a prone position. It will pass and hopefully things will be back to normal with a big job accomplished. So ends the first coat.

The Final Four

I have long loved the excitement and enthusiasm that the NCAA basketball tournament brings. For a few week much of the country is focused on the Thursday/Saturday - Friday/Sunday games. 65 teams start the journey that ends with one standing as National Champion for Division I men's basketball. At the same time the woman's tournament is being played. While the woman are not as spectacularly athletic as the men they play a great level of ball. I enjoy the woman's tournament because being shorter they play a brand of ball that is more reminiscent of the ball played in my era. No spectacular dunks, or "in your face" shot blocking, but excellent fast breaks, great three point shooting and tough no nonsense defense.

This is a time of year that everyone has a bracket and office pools become intense topics of conversation in the break room. It is as though we collectively take a break from the tedium and issues of life and even the President takes his hand at bracket selection on national TV.

What I really enjoy is the frantic pace of the tournament. In the first round there are sixteen games play in various parts of the country in a day. Sixteen teams go home victors, sixteen teams go home with the taste of defeat, yet they participated. Some stellar programs are laid low, some small colleges become heroic. It seems that everyone pulls for the underdog except when our favorite team is involved. The Friday round of sixteen games repeats Thursday's interest. Then come the round of 32 and there is intense interest in who will make the "Sweet Sixteen." The story grows around who will be the "Cinderella" team and how far will they go.

As the tournament progresses you get to see the variety of styles of coaching. The maddening, methodical pace of the Wisconsin Badgers, Bo Ryan's magic at work. The powerful, athletic powerhouse of Kentucky or Kansas is on display. Cornell, not an athletic scholarship on the team, but a smooth successful year for the "Big Red." Kansas gets knocked of in the Sweet Sixteen by a courageous and talented Northern Iowa team and expectations and hopes of young men lie dashed while other young men get to battle another day. Everyone has a chance. That is, I guess why I like March Madness. Everyone has a chance. In the end, a great team usually emerges victorious, but for a month in March we lose our distrust of society, we become involved in speculation with strangers and talk about common issues that will have no bearing on the direction of our lives. But just tell that to the players at Kansas, Kansas St., Kentucky and Syracuse who went home early humiliated at their lowly defeat when the expectations were so high.

It is a reassuring, fun, fascinating process our country goes through once a year. All made possible by the athletic prowess of a bunch of 18 - 22 year old young men trying.