If I were living in the Middle Ages, I'd probably think the world was coming to an end. Instead, I'm told it's only a wild fire burning in nearby Red Lodge, Montana—some 40 miles away as the crow flies.
At 5:00 in the afternoon on the 30th of July, the day should be bright, but if I didn't know any better, I'd swear a class five tornado was bearing down on my little town.
It's amazing to watch the sun high in the sky turn blood red and at times almost disappear completely. And all around me, flakes of ash fall from the sky that likely came from what was a dead or bark beetle-infested tree.
We've seen conditions like this for about five years running now. When I first moved to Powell, I never saw anything like this. Now, it's an annual event. Yet, every year as the fires start up and choke the sky, I still think to myself that all of this isn't quite right.
I suppose it would be easy for me to say something like, "If this ain't global warming, I don't know what is." But, I don't know. Perhaps it's just a little global bad luck, a hiccup in geological time.
Yet, for those who simply discount it all and confidently (or blindly) say it is only a hiccup and global warming is just another scheme concocted by liberal extremist to control everyones' lives... well, that's quite a gamble to make—with everyone's money, isn't it?
Postscript: Which is more believable: liberal Democrats wanting to control everyone's lives by forcing us to rely on renewable and unlimited energy sources or conservative Republicans wanting to continue with their great profits in maintaining the status quo regarding our dependence on fossil fuels?
What's the worst case scenario if global warming is a hoax and we buy into it?
What's the worst case scenario if global warming is for real and we ignore it?
Wednesday, July 30, 2008
Thursday, July 24, 2008
Wallowing in the Oilzoic Era
The other day, I dropped in on a city council meeting. Upon my arrival, I discovered that the council was in an "executive session," so there was nothing to do but sit there and gape and perhaps visit with fellow gapers.
Behind me, a handful of local men were talking about drilling for oil and how easy it is—according to them, 30 days was the time it takes from when they start drilling in the Gulf until oil starts pumping into the Mainland. They were blaming Nancy Pelosi and her fellow Democrats for the high price of gas—that it had doubled since they had taken over the House and Senate. I suppose. Never mind how expensive petrol was before the Democrats took back Congress—and just barely. At least the Democrats haven't declared a mandate like President Bush who barely won a majority (arguably at that) in both elections.
I don't know any of these men or their backgrounds with the exception of one whose background is in physical education and coaching. Because I wasn't invited in on the conversation, I bit my tongue and didn't comment on how short-sighted they all sounded to me. For the most part I kept my trap shut with the exception of one quip I let out to the one I know about solar energy. He wasn't amused and quickly turned the subject to athletics—a topic that was agreeable to both of us.
During the same time, one of these men who seemed to have all the answers was talking about how the proposed drilling in the Arctic National Wildlife Refuge (ANWR) would amount to one letter-sized piece of paper in the oversized conference room were we waited. I assume his point was that the actual area of activity was miniscule compared with the entire ANWR region.
Yesterday I watched with sadness the developing news regarding the huge oil spill on the Mississippi River near New Orleans. I will venture to say that the source of the oil in that particular tragedy probably came from an area the size of a postage stamp relative to the designated area around it, yet look at the havoc it has brought to a river that is already dirty enough.
It appears that the Exxon Valdez was not illustrative enough for some of us—not here in Powell, Wyoming at least.
Meanwhile John McCain appears to understand the gravity of the event as he cancelled a visit to an offshore oil rig in Louisiana attributed to the unstable weather from Hurricane Dolly. But one has to wonder if the oil spill in the Mississippi River may have influenced his plans as well. Promoting off-shore drilling with a major oil spill in the same neighborhood makes for an ugly juxtaposition.
I wonder when we (as one people) will wake up to the hollow promises of the oil-dependent age we live in—its always-looming environmental hazards waiting to happen, its filth layered in greed, and its wreckless disregard for the planet we call home?
When will we rise from the dark days of the Oilzoic Era?
Postscript: As I write this, I've heard Republicans argue that Nancy Pelosi's request to immediately free up 70 million gallons of oil reserves won't bring down the price of oil, yet John McCain claims that President Bush's support to open up oil drilling has already caused oil prices to drop. Right...
Whatever happens, I hope the price of oil stays high enough to bring us to a somewhat painful, but necessary transition regarding our future in energy. I like to think of such wishes as "tough love."
The doctor has told us that we are overweight and it's going to require a long and committed effort to correct the problem rather than an overnight pill. I wonder if we—the people of this planet—have the gumption to take on this unavoidable and enduring challenge.
Behind me, a handful of local men were talking about drilling for oil and how easy it is—according to them, 30 days was the time it takes from when they start drilling in the Gulf until oil starts pumping into the Mainland. They were blaming Nancy Pelosi and her fellow Democrats for the high price of gas—that it had doubled since they had taken over the House and Senate. I suppose. Never mind how expensive petrol was before the Democrats took back Congress—and just barely. At least the Democrats haven't declared a mandate like President Bush who barely won a majority (arguably at that) in both elections.
I don't know any of these men or their backgrounds with the exception of one whose background is in physical education and coaching. Because I wasn't invited in on the conversation, I bit my tongue and didn't comment on how short-sighted they all sounded to me. For the most part I kept my trap shut with the exception of one quip I let out to the one I know about solar energy. He wasn't amused and quickly turned the subject to athletics—a topic that was agreeable to both of us.
During the same time, one of these men who seemed to have all the answers was talking about how the proposed drilling in the Arctic National Wildlife Refuge (ANWR) would amount to one letter-sized piece of paper in the oversized conference room were we waited. I assume his point was that the actual area of activity was miniscule compared with the entire ANWR region.
Yesterday I watched with sadness the developing news regarding the huge oil spill on the Mississippi River near New Orleans. I will venture to say that the source of the oil in that particular tragedy probably came from an area the size of a postage stamp relative to the designated area around it, yet look at the havoc it has brought to a river that is already dirty enough.
It appears that the Exxon Valdez was not illustrative enough for some of us—not here in Powell, Wyoming at least.
Meanwhile John McCain appears to understand the gravity of the event as he cancelled a visit to an offshore oil rig in Louisiana attributed to the unstable weather from Hurricane Dolly. But one has to wonder if the oil spill in the Mississippi River may have influenced his plans as well. Promoting off-shore drilling with a major oil spill in the same neighborhood makes for an ugly juxtaposition.
I wonder when we (as one people) will wake up to the hollow promises of the oil-dependent age we live in—its always-looming environmental hazards waiting to happen, its filth layered in greed, and its wreckless disregard for the planet we call home?
When will we rise from the dark days of the Oilzoic Era?
Postscript: As I write this, I've heard Republicans argue that Nancy Pelosi's request to immediately free up 70 million gallons of oil reserves won't bring down the price of oil, yet John McCain claims that President Bush's support to open up oil drilling has already caused oil prices to drop. Right...
Whatever happens, I hope the price of oil stays high enough to bring us to a somewhat painful, but necessary transition regarding our future in energy. I like to think of such wishes as "tough love."
The doctor has told us that we are overweight and it's going to require a long and committed effort to correct the problem rather than an overnight pill. I wonder if we—the people of this planet—have the gumption to take on this unavoidable and enduring challenge.
Saturday, July 19, 2008
Let the Weening Begin
The word is out that the price of oil is going down thanks to the reduced demand by we Americans. Of course I noticed it is still sitting at $4.27 per gallon as I rode my bike past the petrol station today. Tomorrow or the next day, perhaps the drop in oil prices will finally start to reflect at the local gas pumps. But, you know what? I could care.
I'm going to keep right on riding that old bicycle all over town even when gas is down to under $2 per gallon (not that I think such will really happen)—even after the snow begins to fly again.
Too bad all of us can't—and more sadly, won't adopt such self-imposed behavior. If so we could have the oil companies right where we want them—over a barrel—rather than them having us right where they want us.
I wish there would never be a need again to fire up my gasoline-powered pick-up, but there will be days I'll need it. Nevertheless every time I have to carry or haul something, I'm always going to ask myself, "Can you carry it on your bike instead, even if it means multiple trips?" I suspect the answer will be "yes" on most occasions.
And when I need to trek around in the McCullouch Peaks as I often do, the bike is going to be in the truck's bed and I'll be riding over the dirt roads via my human-powered two-wheeler. I'll just use the pick-up to get me to the general location I desire.
Given how the oil companies have treated us and profited—not to mention the carbon emissions produced, I don't care how cheap gas ends up.
Let the weening of oil begin.
And while you're at it, consider this little gem of an article as well.
I'm going to keep right on riding that old bicycle all over town even when gas is down to under $2 per gallon (not that I think such will really happen)—even after the snow begins to fly again.
Too bad all of us can't—and more sadly, won't adopt such self-imposed behavior. If so we could have the oil companies right where we want them—over a barrel—rather than them having us right where they want us.
I wish there would never be a need again to fire up my gasoline-powered pick-up, but there will be days I'll need it. Nevertheless every time I have to carry or haul something, I'm always going to ask myself, "Can you carry it on your bike instead, even if it means multiple trips?" I suspect the answer will be "yes" on most occasions.
And when I need to trek around in the McCullouch Peaks as I often do, the bike is going to be in the truck's bed and I'll be riding over the dirt roads via my human-powered two-wheeler. I'll just use the pick-up to get me to the general location I desire.
Given how the oil companies have treated us and profited—not to mention the carbon emissions produced, I don't care how cheap gas ends up.
Let the weening of oil begin.
And while you're at it, consider this little gem of an article as well.
Monday, July 07, 2008
Watered Down 4th of July Tributes
I've been on a glorified hitch-hiking trip since June 23 with a truck driver documenting the truck driving life. Chris, the driver I speak of, wears a cowboy hat, listens to NPR and and loves NASCAR—go ahead, try to fit this guy to any given stereotype. It ain't happening. Nevertheless, that's another story for another day.
While delivering a truck load of goods with Chris over the Fourth of July weekend, we tuned in to Sirius Radio's NASCAR show "Tradin' Paint" somewhere in West Virginia. In their tribute to America on the Fourth, hosts Steve Post and Danny "Chocolate" Myers along with the various NASCAR personalities interviewed went on and on about how the troops in Iraq and Afghanistan are over there doing such a great job preserving our wide-ranging freedoms including our freedom of speech.
Not to diminish the radio show itself, but I found its attempt to pay tribute to America on that particular day to be rather banal—in other words, a bunch of George Bush party line bullshit.
Not that I don't support the troops, I simply don't buy that particular line about preserving our freedoms via these psuedo-wars in Iraq or Afghanistan. When Adolf Hitler was banging down everyone's door back in the '30s and '40s, I believe our troops engaging the Nazis preserved our freedoms. But it's a real stretch to think that Saddam Hussein or a ragtag group of terrorists running around in Afghanistan or Pakistan are (or were) threatening my freedom or anyone else in this great land. We should only be using our troops to strike down Osama bin Laden and then call it "Mission Accomplished." There's no war to be lost or won over there, just a rat or two that needs to be greased. I feel better about saying that the troops we have in Germany and Korea are preserving our freedoms than those in Iraq and Afghanistan.
In short, I don't believe our assorted freedoms are any safer today than they were before we invaded Iraq or Afghanistan nor are they any safer than before or after September 11, 2001, or Oklahoma City in April of 1995. Whatever freedoms we have lost—or feel we have lost—are the result of our own elected leaders and the paranoia they have instilled in us.
While delivering a truck load of goods with Chris over the Fourth of July weekend, we tuned in to Sirius Radio's NASCAR show "Tradin' Paint" somewhere in West Virginia. In their tribute to America on the Fourth, hosts Steve Post and Danny "Chocolate" Myers along with the various NASCAR personalities interviewed went on and on about how the troops in Iraq and Afghanistan are over there doing such a great job preserving our wide-ranging freedoms including our freedom of speech.
Not to diminish the radio show itself, but I found its attempt to pay tribute to America on that particular day to be rather banal—in other words, a bunch of George Bush party line bullshit.
Not that I don't support the troops, I simply don't buy that particular line about preserving our freedoms via these psuedo-wars in Iraq or Afghanistan. When Adolf Hitler was banging down everyone's door back in the '30s and '40s, I believe our troops engaging the Nazis preserved our freedoms. But it's a real stretch to think that Saddam Hussein or a ragtag group of terrorists running around in Afghanistan or Pakistan are (or were) threatening my freedom or anyone else in this great land. We should only be using our troops to strike down Osama bin Laden and then call it "Mission Accomplished." There's no war to be lost or won over there, just a rat or two that needs to be greased. I feel better about saying that the troops we have in Germany and Korea are preserving our freedoms than those in Iraq and Afghanistan.
In short, I don't believe our assorted freedoms are any safer today than they were before we invaded Iraq or Afghanistan nor are they any safer than before or after September 11, 2001, or Oklahoma City in April of 1995. Whatever freedoms we have lost—or feel we have lost—are the result of our own elected leaders and the paranoia they have instilled in us.
Thursday, June 12, 2008
Death of a Neighborhood Icon
An icon in my hometown was lost today. The massive cottonwood tree that towered over the 300 block of North Bent Street, on the west side of the road was destroyed... chopped down, demolished, or killed however you want to state it.
Certainly this tree was one of the larger ones in town yet I'm confident it had a few good years remaining in its gargantuan status. It seems possible that the old tree was establishing itself around the time when this town was starting to sprout from its badlands foundation.
All the same, it no longer is.
Even in its splendor, apparently it was not worthy enough to stay put, rather it was eradicated (are you ready for this?) to make way for a new parking lot. If there's any saving grace in such destruction it is to know that it was sacrificed for a church parking lot. Nevertheless, that hardly makes its demise lighter.
I don't know if there is any respectable way to bring down an old, stately tree. Is taking it down one limb at a time better than bringing in heavy equipment (as was the case today) and simply busting off the limbs in reckless fashion? I don't know. My hunch is that a small team of climbers with chain saws and a methodic approach would have been more respectful to the tree and universe than bringing in the heavy guns and taking it down quickly. I believe that if a tree becomes as colossal as this one was, it should come down under nature's laws—not ours. It feels as though we just killed the Dali Lama rather than Saddam Hussein.
Just the other day, the house that was on the same lot, was gingerly carried away and placed a couple blocks up the street to begin a second residence. Too bad the tree couldn't have been included. If anything, the tree was more worthy of saving than the house that sat underneath the giant cottonwood's branches all of these years.
As I was photographing the dismantled poplar, I overheard one of the children in the house next door say that it seemed weird now that the tree was gone. He didn't say anything about the relocated house.
Certainly this tree was one of the larger ones in town yet I'm confident it had a few good years remaining in its gargantuan status. It seems possible that the old tree was establishing itself around the time when this town was starting to sprout from its badlands foundation.
All the same, it no longer is.
Even in its splendor, apparently it was not worthy enough to stay put, rather it was eradicated (are you ready for this?) to make way for a new parking lot. If there's any saving grace in such destruction it is to know that it was sacrificed for a church parking lot. Nevertheless, that hardly makes its demise lighter.
I don't know if there is any respectable way to bring down an old, stately tree. Is taking it down one limb at a time better than bringing in heavy equipment (as was the case today) and simply busting off the limbs in reckless fashion? I don't know. My hunch is that a small team of climbers with chain saws and a methodic approach would have been more respectful to the tree and universe than bringing in the heavy guns and taking it down quickly. I believe that if a tree becomes as colossal as this one was, it should come down under nature's laws—not ours. It feels as though we just killed the Dali Lama rather than Saddam Hussein.
Just the other day, the house that was on the same lot, was gingerly carried away and placed a couple blocks up the street to begin a second residence. Too bad the tree couldn't have been included. If anything, the tree was more worthy of saving than the house that sat underneath the giant cottonwood's branches all of these years.
As I was photographing the dismantled poplar, I overheard one of the children in the house next door say that it seemed weird now that the tree was gone. He didn't say anything about the relocated house.
Friday, May 16, 2008
Another Cracker for Obama
John Edwards I am not—not even a super delegate, but I think it's high time that I announced my support for Barrack Obama as he seeks to become the 44th President of the United States. Surely anyone who knows me is not all that surprised. Nevertheless, I think the Democratic party is approaching critical mass and I just want to do my part to bring us all together before we go by the way of Darth Vader's Death Star.
And isn't Hillary starting to resemble Rocky Balboa in the those final rounds when he's too stubborn to go down for his own good?
I reckon there is George Bush to thank regarding my decision to back Obama as things can't get any worse—a quagmired war, a sinking economy and out-of-sight gas prices. Undoubtedly the three remaining candidates still in the running (and even those that have withdrawn) would improve things in Washington, across our country and around the world when juxtaposed with George and his low-brow administration. For the most part I should feel pretty good when I awaken on November 5 and learn of the election results. And there we have it folks, the legacy of George Bush—the guy who managed to run the country so far into the ground that the next guy/gal can't help but look good when they step into the Oval Office on Day One.
But Obama personifies that old adage that goes something like, "desperate times call for desperate measures." Basically, we can't afford not to pull out all of the stops, allowing this shipwreck to turn itself around and prevent it from going over the falls. And Obama is the only one who is really talking about giving Washington and the country a true "makeover" that it so desperately needs.
Perhaps he's not strong in foreign policy, but I know he's smart enough to get the right people on his staff to make up for any deficiency. The same goes for any other areas of inexperience. Stop and think about it, everyone has a soft spot when it comes to running the country and providing any given President is intelligent enough, wouldn't they all surround themselves with the right people to shore up anything that's lacking... unless of course they were George W. Bush?
Further, I think a guy like Obama is more of a uniter; certainly not the divider that defines Dubya's reign. Nevertheless, I suppose the loyal White supremist around the country won't feel like joining the party, but they're freaks anyway based on their tainted education (or lack thereof). Who needs 'em?
Yet, as long as I'm here, it has been interesting over the past couple of weeks (since the West Virginia primary), to hear about Obama's "lack of appeal" when it comes to uneducated, White, working-class men and how "he needs to address this problem" and "retool his message" if he expects to get their votes. Hearing the media dance around this little issue, I just kept thinking to myself, "Obama doesn't have a problem appealing to uneducated, White, working class men, they have a problem with him being African American."
In my days of working with this particular demographic, I heard that n-word (containing the two "g's") used more prolifically than any other time in my life—by far. Disclaimer statement: Of course, this isn't to say that all of those whom fit this particular profile harbor such views. Far be it for me to stereotype my own kind!
Finally, this week, Kevin Merida, a reporter for the Washington Post, looked this demon straight in the eye that includes some not-so-surprising remarks from West Virginia's finest voters. Listen for yourself.
Should Obama get the nod from the Democrats, but lose the general election to tired-old-White-man McCain, I'll surely have my doubts that the better candidate won, but more troubling will be whether or not I believe America—in its heart—voted for the best candidate.
And isn't Hillary starting to resemble Rocky Balboa in the those final rounds when he's too stubborn to go down for his own good?
I reckon there is George Bush to thank regarding my decision to back Obama as things can't get any worse—a quagmired war, a sinking economy and out-of-sight gas prices. Undoubtedly the three remaining candidates still in the running (and even those that have withdrawn) would improve things in Washington, across our country and around the world when juxtaposed with George and his low-brow administration. For the most part I should feel pretty good when I awaken on November 5 and learn of the election results. And there we have it folks, the legacy of George Bush—the guy who managed to run the country so far into the ground that the next guy/gal can't help but look good when they step into the Oval Office on Day One.
But Obama personifies that old adage that goes something like, "desperate times call for desperate measures." Basically, we can't afford not to pull out all of the stops, allowing this shipwreck to turn itself around and prevent it from going over the falls. And Obama is the only one who is really talking about giving Washington and the country a true "makeover" that it so desperately needs.
Perhaps he's not strong in foreign policy, but I know he's smart enough to get the right people on his staff to make up for any deficiency. The same goes for any other areas of inexperience. Stop and think about it, everyone has a soft spot when it comes to running the country and providing any given President is intelligent enough, wouldn't they all surround themselves with the right people to shore up anything that's lacking... unless of course they were George W. Bush?
Further, I think a guy like Obama is more of a uniter; certainly not the divider that defines Dubya's reign. Nevertheless, I suppose the loyal White supremist around the country won't feel like joining the party, but they're freaks anyway based on their tainted education (or lack thereof). Who needs 'em?
Yet, as long as I'm here, it has been interesting over the past couple of weeks (since the West Virginia primary), to hear about Obama's "lack of appeal" when it comes to uneducated, White, working-class men and how "he needs to address this problem" and "retool his message" if he expects to get their votes. Hearing the media dance around this little issue, I just kept thinking to myself, "Obama doesn't have a problem appealing to uneducated, White, working class men, they have a problem with him being African American."
In my days of working with this particular demographic, I heard that n-word (containing the two "g's") used more prolifically than any other time in my life—by far. Disclaimer statement: Of course, this isn't to say that all of those whom fit this particular profile harbor such views. Far be it for me to stereotype my own kind!
Finally, this week, Kevin Merida, a reporter for the Washington Post, looked this demon straight in the eye that includes some not-so-surprising remarks from West Virginia's finest voters. Listen for yourself.
Should Obama get the nod from the Democrats, but lose the general election to tired-old-White-man McCain, I'll surely have my doubts that the better candidate won, but more troubling will be whether or not I believe America—in its heart—voted for the best candidate.
Wednesday, May 07, 2008
Gasoline: The Real Price of Freedom?
I'm awake at 2:28 a.m.—thinking about the semester coming to a close and George Bush's ideas of freedom.
It's an exciting time of the year. The school year draws to another close and it doesn't really matter if I get a good night's sleep or not. Classes are over and only exams remain.
If the calendar year were reduced to a week, it would be Friday at 4:00 p.m. right now. The full weekend is in front of me.
With the promise of summer's frolic ahead, I wonder about frolic's key ingredient—freedom. Where's my freedom as I consider the greatest symbol of freedom in the United States as the automobile, which now requires $3.50-plus per gallon to send me on my way to "freedom?" Who can afford that kind of freedom except the well-off, the privileged, the elite, the established and the upper crust of our society—basic code talk for rich White folks?
According to what I paid for petrol one year ago today, it now cost me 20 percent more to fill up my gas tank today—just in one year. My take home salary doesn't reflect the rising cost of fuel.
I don't know, maybe it's just me, but could a sitting president affect the price of gasoline during his/her office? Given George W. Bush is from an oil family, I doubt there's anyone that can honestly and without some form of shame say that he has nothing to do with the outrageous increase in gas prices.
Regular gas prices during the Clinton years:
1993: $1.10/gal
1994: $1.11/gal
1995: $1.14/gal
1996: $1.23/gal
1997: $1.23/gal
1998: $1.05/gal
1999: $1.16/gal
2000: $1.51/gal
Increased by 1.37 times from the time he started office until he ended
Regular gas prices during the Bush years:
2001: $1.46/gal
2002: $1.35/gal
2003: $1.59/gal
2004: $1.88/gal
2005: $2.27/gal
2006: $2.58/gal
2007: $2.81/gal
2008: $3.xx/gal
Increased by 2.39 times from the time he started office until he ended
What I do know is that my definition of "freedom" is becoming more and more "confined." There's a new oxymoron: "confined freedom." At one time, I considered my freedom to include the entire West and sometimes beyond. Now, it's only the county I call home and occasionally the surrounding Big Horn Basin of Wyoming and parts of Montana. If the strangle hold of high gas prices continues, my true freedom will be whittled down to the distance I can cover on my bicycle and my imagination's ability when reading a good book.
Perhaps I have it wrong. Freedom has nothing to do with how far you can go in your car—perhaps that is just an aging form of American decadence. For example, how do the "free" people of Germany do it—their gas prices translate to $8.63/gallon?
As a side note: Regarding Hillary Clinton and John McCain's proposal for a national gas tax holiday... I thought it was interesting when ABC News' George Stephanopolis (once a White House aid to her husband) asked Hillary Clinton to name one credible economist who sided with her and McCain on the summer gas tax suspension, she said everything but a name. Good question George.
It's an exciting time of the year. The school year draws to another close and it doesn't really matter if I get a good night's sleep or not. Classes are over and only exams remain.
If the calendar year were reduced to a week, it would be Friday at 4:00 p.m. right now. The full weekend is in front of me.
With the promise of summer's frolic ahead, I wonder about frolic's key ingredient—freedom. Where's my freedom as I consider the greatest symbol of freedom in the United States as the automobile, which now requires $3.50-plus per gallon to send me on my way to "freedom?" Who can afford that kind of freedom except the well-off, the privileged, the elite, the established and the upper crust of our society—basic code talk for rich White folks?
According to what I paid for petrol one year ago today, it now cost me 20 percent more to fill up my gas tank today—just in one year. My take home salary doesn't reflect the rising cost of fuel.
I don't know, maybe it's just me, but could a sitting president affect the price of gasoline during his/her office? Given George W. Bush is from an oil family, I doubt there's anyone that can honestly and without some form of shame say that he has nothing to do with the outrageous increase in gas prices.
Regular gas prices during the Clinton years:
1993: $1.10/gal
1994: $1.11/gal
1995: $1.14/gal
1996: $1.23/gal
1997: $1.23/gal
1998: $1.05/gal
1999: $1.16/gal
2000: $1.51/gal
Increased by 1.37 times from the time he started office until he ended
Regular gas prices during the Bush years:
2001: $1.46/gal
2002: $1.35/gal
2003: $1.59/gal
2004: $1.88/gal
2005: $2.27/gal
2006: $2.58/gal
2007: $2.81/gal
2008: $3.xx/gal
Increased by 2.39 times from the time he started office until he ended
What I do know is that my definition of "freedom" is becoming more and more "confined." There's a new oxymoron: "confined freedom." At one time, I considered my freedom to include the entire West and sometimes beyond. Now, it's only the county I call home and occasionally the surrounding Big Horn Basin of Wyoming and parts of Montana. If the strangle hold of high gas prices continues, my true freedom will be whittled down to the distance I can cover on my bicycle and my imagination's ability when reading a good book.
Perhaps I have it wrong. Freedom has nothing to do with how far you can go in your car—perhaps that is just an aging form of American decadence. For example, how do the "free" people of Germany do it—their gas prices translate to $8.63/gallon?
As a side note: Regarding Hillary Clinton and John McCain's proposal for a national gas tax holiday... I thought it was interesting when ABC News' George Stephanopolis (once a White House aid to her husband) asked Hillary Clinton to name one credible economist who sided with her and McCain on the summer gas tax suspension, she said everything but a name. Good question George.
Tuesday, May 06, 2008
Who Cares for the Little People?
Listening to the reports coming in from the cyclone-ravaged Irrawatty Delta of Myanmar (Burma), I couldn't help but think of Hurricane Katrina and New Orleans. In fact, based on the stories posted thus far, with the exception of the higher number of deaths, it sounds like the same people are running the show (or not running the show) in Myanmar as those in New Orleans. Already, complaints of little or no government action/reaction to the event have surfaced, and those affected, displaced or killed are those that are the poorest of the poor—just like New Orleans.
Myanmar and The United States... I thought these two countries were worlds apart, but not so when it comes to taking care of their own poor.
Myanmar and The United States... I thought these two countries were worlds apart, but not so when it comes to taking care of their own poor.
Saturday, May 03, 2008
The Fallacy of Calendars & Weather
Yesterday was May 1 and as I made my way for the door, I started to reach for my gloves considering the blustery day that awaited, but than caught myself and decided that with May's arrival, I would go without gloves until they were required again—sometime in the distant October.
This morning I awoke to a wet two-inches of snow on the ground and what appears to be a punishing Wyoming wind. What am I to make of that—nature sticking it back in my face, further proof that I'm really not that intelligent?
So many times over the years—usually in April—I tell someone how, almost without fail, we will have at least one snow fall in May, and sometimes after graduation and its exodus of students from the campus. I'm always amused by that scenario where summer recess is here and it's still snowing.
We're still a week away from graduation.
This morning I awoke to a wet two-inches of snow on the ground and what appears to be a punishing Wyoming wind. What am I to make of that—nature sticking it back in my face, further proof that I'm really not that intelligent?
So many times over the years—usually in April—I tell someone how, almost without fail, we will have at least one snow fall in May, and sometimes after graduation and its exodus of students from the campus. I'm always amused by that scenario where summer recess is here and it's still snowing.
We're still a week away from graduation.
Thursday, May 01, 2008
Barrasso's World of Coal
Wyoming Senator John Barrasso is definitely looking out for Wyoming—especially the Wyoming coal industry. In his electronic newsletter dated April 22, Barrasso writes a pro-coal piece that reads like a promotional brochure from one of the coal companies in the voice of a Barbara Cubin-esque high school cheerleader. Perhaps a few of his buddies in Campbell County sent him the coal-is-wholesome copy in an overstuffed briefcase full of "campaign donations."
In his opening paragraph, the good senator argues that "coal should never become a stranded asset." Yet he says nothing of Wyoming's unlimited energy assets found in its relentless wind and the excessive tally of solar-enriched days—much more prolific than old-school coal.
But wait, there's more. He argues that "complete substitutes to coal have often proven to be unsuitable, insufficient, or too costly to power America's homes and businesses." Did I miss something? "Complete substitutes?" When or where did we carry out this experiment? Undoubtedly he would have said the same kind of thing back in the early 1900s when the Wright Brothers were fooling around on the beach at Kitty Hawk. Let's not get Barrasso mixed up with innovative thinking.
And if it's not enough to use coal to provide our electricity, Barrasso proposes that it should be used to produce gasoline, diesel, and jet fuel. Great, let's burn even more of this filthy fuel source—screw the planet and everyone that lives on it as long as there will be plenty of good jobs in Wyoming for years to come.
Barrasso resorts to a few Dubya scare tactics as well when he attributes a lack of coal use with power outages saying, "Blackouts across the Northeast in August of 2003 should have sounded a warning." Well John, the warning translates to this: Hey America, stop carrying on like the greedy and self-centered mega-consumers that you've been for all these years. It's time to pay the piper.
Perhaps what's most laughable about Barrasso's pep talk for coal is he proposes that coal is the answer to an antiquated infrastructure, "But, America has an aging energy infrastructure—from pipelines to transmission. Energy policies warrant a more comprehensive review and far-reaching solution. Coal can, and must, be an important contribution to that solution." OK, let me get this right... the solution to an aging energy infrastructure is to fix it with an energy source from the Dark Ages?
Barrasso attempts to show us his "green side" as well. "Even if policymakers chose to mandate a reduction in carbon dioxide," he states, "America cannot afford to close the door on coal." It's hard to argue his point here, especially if America continues to sit on its fat ass and do little to nothing about real alternative and renewable energy solutions.
Finally the Wyoming Senator concludes in saying, "America cannot abandon our nation's most abundant, affordable, and secure energy resource." Brilliant, just brilliant. He would have said the same thing about horses when a guy named Henry Ford was tinkering around with something called the horseless carriage.
P.S.: Here's a semi-related question to consider on the carbon capture technologies discussion. They want to capture carbon dioxide and store it underground—for how long? Forever? Even radioactive material breaks down to a harmless substance after enough time passes. Does carbon dioxide stored away for a long period of time magically transform back into oxygen?
In his opening paragraph, the good senator argues that "coal should never become a stranded asset." Yet he says nothing of Wyoming's unlimited energy assets found in its relentless wind and the excessive tally of solar-enriched days—much more prolific than old-school coal.
But wait, there's more. He argues that "complete substitutes to coal have often proven to be unsuitable, insufficient, or too costly to power America's homes and businesses." Did I miss something? "Complete substitutes?" When or where did we carry out this experiment? Undoubtedly he would have said the same kind of thing back in the early 1900s when the Wright Brothers were fooling around on the beach at Kitty Hawk. Let's not get Barrasso mixed up with innovative thinking.
And if it's not enough to use coal to provide our electricity, Barrasso proposes that it should be used to produce gasoline, diesel, and jet fuel. Great, let's burn even more of this filthy fuel source—screw the planet and everyone that lives on it as long as there will be plenty of good jobs in Wyoming for years to come.
Barrasso resorts to a few Dubya scare tactics as well when he attributes a lack of coal use with power outages saying, "Blackouts across the Northeast in August of 2003 should have sounded a warning." Well John, the warning translates to this: Hey America, stop carrying on like the greedy and self-centered mega-consumers that you've been for all these years. It's time to pay the piper.
Perhaps what's most laughable about Barrasso's pep talk for coal is he proposes that coal is the answer to an antiquated infrastructure, "But, America has an aging energy infrastructure—from pipelines to transmission. Energy policies warrant a more comprehensive review and far-reaching solution. Coal can, and must, be an important contribution to that solution." OK, let me get this right... the solution to an aging energy infrastructure is to fix it with an energy source from the Dark Ages?
Barrasso attempts to show us his "green side" as well. "Even if policymakers chose to mandate a reduction in carbon dioxide," he states, "America cannot afford to close the door on coal." It's hard to argue his point here, especially if America continues to sit on its fat ass and do little to nothing about real alternative and renewable energy solutions.
Finally the Wyoming Senator concludes in saying, "America cannot abandon our nation's most abundant, affordable, and secure energy resource." Brilliant, just brilliant. He would have said the same thing about horses when a guy named Henry Ford was tinkering around with something called the horseless carriage.
P.S.: Here's a semi-related question to consider on the carbon capture technologies discussion. They want to capture carbon dioxide and store it underground—for how long? Forever? Even radioactive material breaks down to a harmless substance after enough time passes. Does carbon dioxide stored away for a long period of time magically transform back into oxygen?
Thursday, April 03, 2008
Torture: "Just Say No" or "Just Do It"
I was having a little lie-down on the front porch the other day and suddenly found myself drawn into the nearly-silenced radio and a debate going on about the harsh interrogations that has been employed by our country—i.e., torture. And it just wasn't any old debate between radio talk show hosts, rather this was between a panel of six esteemed thinkers on the topic and its related areas.
Torture is something I've never believed in because it is a detour from the moral high road—no matter the conflict. Yet, I've never given it much thought or expressed my disapproval. But this debate changed all of that. In particular the comments from one of the panelist whom I'd never heard of until that day—Darius Rejali, Professor of Political Science at Reed College in Portland, Oregon.
Rejali's brief closing comments solidified my anti-torture thoughts when he stated the following:
"Is it better to be loved or feared? Loved or feared? The correct answer is: If you can fight with one hand tied behind your back and win, you will be loved and feared. And that's the American way. If you want to be merely loved, you will be despised and if you really want to be feared, you will be despised."
In the comments from the panelist who opposed Professor Rejali and his two colleagues, there was a consistent reference to the severe conviction, commitment and determination possessed by today’s enemy—"something we've never seen before." I don’t doubt this intensity found in these militants, yet I wondered about my father who served during World War II and the Korean War. Did he think the Japanese were less convicted, determined, or committed in their cause than our so-called enemy of “Muslim extremist” our forces face today? And, didn’t we fight that war (somewhat) with that one hand tied behind our back?
Here is the link to the debate. I dare you to listen in.
Torture is something I've never believed in because it is a detour from the moral high road—no matter the conflict. Yet, I've never given it much thought or expressed my disapproval. But this debate changed all of that. In particular the comments from one of the panelist whom I'd never heard of until that day—Darius Rejali, Professor of Political Science at Reed College in Portland, Oregon.
Rejali's brief closing comments solidified my anti-torture thoughts when he stated the following:
"Is it better to be loved or feared? Loved or feared? The correct answer is: If you can fight with one hand tied behind your back and win, you will be loved and feared. And that's the American way. If you want to be merely loved, you will be despised and if you really want to be feared, you will be despised."
In the comments from the panelist who opposed Professor Rejali and his two colleagues, there was a consistent reference to the severe conviction, commitment and determination possessed by today’s enemy—"something we've never seen before." I don’t doubt this intensity found in these militants, yet I wondered about my father who served during World War II and the Korean War. Did he think the Japanese were less convicted, determined, or committed in their cause than our so-called enemy of “Muslim extremist” our forces face today? And, didn’t we fight that war (somewhat) with that one hand tied behind our back?
Here is the link to the debate. I dare you to listen in.
Friday, March 07, 2008
Fantasy: Sticking It to the Oil Man
America wants more oil and they want it cheaper. So what, who doesn't?
The other day I heard that Washington has been pressuring OPEC (The Organization of the Petroleum Exporting Countries) to open up the spigot a bit more with the hopes of lowering the prices at the pump and easing the pressures on the U.S. economy.
OPEC's response (which undoubtedly represents that of the oil companies as well) was there was no need to pump more oil and that the run-up in prices is due to investor's dim speculations in the market and not fundamental problems regarding supply.
That last part is certainly true. When was the last time you heard of a gasoline station running out of gas?
Nevertheless, here's what I think OPEC was saying in between the lines, "We're not going to increase the supply because the price of petrol will go down and then we can't make as much money. So, as long as you stupid Americans maintain your unquenchable thirst for gasoline, you can stick it where the sun never shines."
And since we can't control our own gluttonous consumption of oil, perhaps what this country—and more importantly—OPEC and the oil companies need is a good little depression that results in a radical drop in the demand of petroleum. Perhaps a little anarchy will follow in a select number of places adding a bit of well-needed humility here in "The Land of the Free (only free in the distance we can ride our bicycle) and the Home of the Brave (i.e., the self-serving, greedy capitalist)."
And maybe, just maybe after all of that, we'll finally get serious about alternative energy sources like wind, solar and tidal power.
The other day I heard that Washington has been pressuring OPEC (The Organization of the Petroleum Exporting Countries) to open up the spigot a bit more with the hopes of lowering the prices at the pump and easing the pressures on the U.S. economy.
OPEC's response (which undoubtedly represents that of the oil companies as well) was there was no need to pump more oil and that the run-up in prices is due to investor's dim speculations in the market and not fundamental problems regarding supply.
That last part is certainly true. When was the last time you heard of a gasoline station running out of gas?
Nevertheless, here's what I think OPEC was saying in between the lines, "We're not going to increase the supply because the price of petrol will go down and then we can't make as much money. So, as long as you stupid Americans maintain your unquenchable thirst for gasoline, you can stick it where the sun never shines."
And since we can't control our own gluttonous consumption of oil, perhaps what this country—and more importantly—OPEC and the oil companies need is a good little depression that results in a radical drop in the demand of petroleum. Perhaps a little anarchy will follow in a select number of places adding a bit of well-needed humility here in "The Land of the Free (only free in the distance we can ride our bicycle) and the Home of the Brave (i.e., the self-serving, greedy capitalist)."
And maybe, just maybe after all of that, we'll finally get serious about alternative energy sources like wind, solar and tidal power.
Tuesday, March 04, 2008
Shooting Down John McCain One More Time
I'd vote for John McCain anyday... over George W. Bush that is. However, given the other choices currently available, I feel pretty safe in saying that he won't be getting my vote.
I know everyone used to talk about how "wooden" Al Gore appeared, but check out this video of McCain... you can almost see the strings that are controlling his arms and eye lids. Do you suppose his nose will grow too?
And what's with his eyeballs? He blinks about four times more than his cronies in the video.
As long as I'm at it, what the hell is going on with McCain's use of the phrase "my friends?!" Talk about beating a dead horse. Sometimes when I hear his voice on the radio, it's like Fred Rogers has come back to life as a politician rather than a kid show host.
Perhaps he should consider running for mayor of Mr. Rogers' neighborhood instead.
I know everyone used to talk about how "wooden" Al Gore appeared, but check out this video of McCain... you can almost see the strings that are controlling his arms and eye lids. Do you suppose his nose will grow too?
And what's with his eyeballs? He blinks about four times more than his cronies in the video.
As long as I'm at it, what the hell is going on with McCain's use of the phrase "my friends?!" Talk about beating a dead horse. Sometimes when I hear his voice on the radio, it's like Fred Rogers has come back to life as a politician rather than a kid show host.
Perhaps he should consider running for mayor of Mr. Rogers' neighborhood instead.
Wednesday, February 27, 2008
Exxon's 19-Year Stench
As oil prices hover at a record $100 per barrel and we dish out over $3.00 per gallon at the pump, I found myself sick with sarcasm to hear this morning that after 19 years since the tragedy of the Exxon Valdez, Exxon is still resisting court orders to pay a modest $2.5 billion in punitive damages.
Exxon claims they have paid out enough. They've spent money attempting to clean up their mess... as they should. Yet, they do not believe they should be punished for allowing an employee with a colourful alcoholic history to return to the helm of a giant tanker resulting in over 11 million gallons of crude oil, spread across 600 linear miles — larger than the distance between Washington, D.C., and Atlanta. Their defense, they didn't profit from that incident. But what of the continued activity? They still profit highly from that, do they not?
And to think, this is the same company that boasted of record profits in 2007—$40.6 billion. And their squawking about paying an additional $2.5 billion. What really gets me is that our society simply sits back and lets it all unfold in front of us—doing nothing about it. Just saying, "Hmmmm."
When will the people take this country back? When will the people declare a boycott on the oil companies—where no one purchases gasoline for an entire week? Imagine pulling that off a couple times per year.
Oh, how I hope to see the day that the oil companies of Exxon, Chevron, Shell go by way of the old typewriter manufacturers named Underwood, Royal and Remington.
Exxon claims they have paid out enough. They've spent money attempting to clean up their mess... as they should. Yet, they do not believe they should be punished for allowing an employee with a colourful alcoholic history to return to the helm of a giant tanker resulting in over 11 million gallons of crude oil, spread across 600 linear miles — larger than the distance between Washington, D.C., and Atlanta. Their defense, they didn't profit from that incident. But what of the continued activity? They still profit highly from that, do they not?
And to think, this is the same company that boasted of record profits in 2007—$40.6 billion. And their squawking about paying an additional $2.5 billion. What really gets me is that our society simply sits back and lets it all unfold in front of us—doing nothing about it. Just saying, "Hmmmm."
When will the people take this country back? When will the people declare a boycott on the oil companies—where no one purchases gasoline for an entire week? Imagine pulling that off a couple times per year.
Oh, how I hope to see the day that the oil companies of Exxon, Chevron, Shell go by way of the old typewriter manufacturers named Underwood, Royal and Remington.
Monday, February 25, 2008
Hands Over Our Hearts and Other Thoughts
When attending grade school in Akron, Ohio, we learned to place our hand over our heart when reciting the Pledge of Alliegence and if you were wearing a hat, you took it off and placed it over your heart during the National Anthem. I don't recall any instruction, about placing your hand over your heart during the National Anthem nor do I recall observing anyone participating in that manner.
When I attend various sporting events now, I always see people with their hands over their hearts during the National Anthem. When did that start happening? Was Akron, Ohio somehow different than Wyoming or Montana during the 1960s?
• • •
While travelling down the highway the other day between Cody and Greybull, a Cadillac Escalade (a luxury pickup truck) passed me. Watching the rig grow smaller on the horizon, I considered a visit from the grave with a soldier or sailor who died during World War II. In telling this soul about how the world has changed since they left, I considered Christopher Lloyd's astonished and disbelieving reaction as the wacky professor in Back to the Future when McFly tells him that Ronald Reagan will become the future President of the United States. Surely this 1940s-esque American would be just as surprised to know that Cadillac is now the maker of a pickup truck.
When I attend various sporting events now, I always see people with their hands over their hearts during the National Anthem. When did that start happening? Was Akron, Ohio somehow different than Wyoming or Montana during the 1960s?
• • •
While travelling down the highway the other day between Cody and Greybull, a Cadillac Escalade (a luxury pickup truck) passed me. Watching the rig grow smaller on the horizon, I considered a visit from the grave with a soldier or sailor who died during World War II. In telling this soul about how the world has changed since they left, I considered Christopher Lloyd's astonished and disbelieving reaction as the wacky professor in Back to the Future when McFly tells him that Ronald Reagan will become the future President of the United States. Surely this 1940s-esque American would be just as surprised to know that Cadillac is now the maker of a pickup truck.
When did utility and luxury become lovers?
• • •
A friend was recently telling me about how often he heard Coyotes howl in the night when he lived in Eastern Washington—at least once a week he said. I was thinking about his observations and realized that although I live in Wyoming, I can't remember the last time I heard a coyote's cry in the night air. What's wrong with that picture?
• • •
From Sarah Vowell's book The Partly Cloudy Patriot
If Newsweek's Jonathan Alter is correct, Bush's jockish disdain for highbrow thought is the very origin of his White House bid. "In a 1998 New Yorker piece (about Al Gore)," Alter claims, "the vice president talked about the ideas of Maurice Merleau-Ponty, a French existentialist. Bush read the article, and later told friends it was one of the reasons he ran for president—to keep intellectual pretentiousness out of the White House." In his campaign, Bush promised to restore honor and dignity to the White House, but the promise to keep intellectual pretentiousness out is one that is likely to be kept.
• • •
A friend was recently telling me about how often he heard Coyotes howl in the night when he lived in Eastern Washington—at least once a week he said. I was thinking about his observations and realized that although I live in Wyoming, I can't remember the last time I heard a coyote's cry in the night air. What's wrong with that picture?
• • •
From Sarah Vowell's book The Partly Cloudy Patriot
If Newsweek's Jonathan Alter is correct, Bush's jockish disdain for highbrow thought is the very origin of his White House bid. "In a 1998 New Yorker piece (about Al Gore)," Alter claims, "the vice president talked about the ideas of Maurice Merleau-Ponty, a French existentialist. Bush read the article, and later told friends it was one of the reasons he ran for president—to keep intellectual pretentiousness out of the White House." In his campaign, Bush promised to restore honor and dignity to the White House, but the promise to keep intellectual pretentiousness out is one that is likely to be kept.
Friday, February 15, 2008
Blinding Ponies
Like Grant Gifford of the Northwest College Trail Newspaper, I too was amazed to watch the deficiency of sportsmanship in the basketball game between the Lady Trappers of NWC and the women of Little Big Horn College. But from my vantage, I'm not as quick to lump all the blame on the visitors from Crow Agency as Mr. Gifford did in his brief and shallow editorial—indeed, I thought it was a two-way street.
The young woman from LBHC who was ejected from the game certainly had it coming, but the struggle/skirmish resulting from a loose ball between her and NWC's Ashley Buckner wasn't as one-sided as the writer made it out to be; and talking with other Trapper fans about it, I wasn't the only one who saw it that way. Simply put, both players should have been ejected for the incident. As they say, it takes two to tango (or tangle).
Admittedly I wasn't in attendance when LBHC coach Dominic Gaglia was called for a technical, but coaches drawing technical fouls for remarks directed toward the referees during a basketball game are hardly uncommon. As for Coach Gaglia's inaction following the conflict on the hardwood that lead to his player's ejection; could it have been that he felt frustrated with his team's performance and attitude, slighted by the referees, or was he simply displaying his coaching "style" like that of the stone-faced Tom Landry? Did Mr. Gifford talk to the coach after the game to verify his accusations? I mean, that's what a journalist would do, right... interview coaches after the games?
I'll confess that I'm not a basketball expert, but I do know a thing or two about sportsmanship. So, as long as we're making a critique on sportsmanship, I'd like to point out a "blown call" made by the home team as well.
Having dressed only six players for their game (and we don't know the true reason for this, do we Mr. Gifford?), it seems the Little Bighorn College Lady Rams never had a chance. I suspect the only time the game was close was the opening minutes of the game. So, it's safe to say, the game's outcome was probably never in doubt.
With a dark cloud over the game following the ejection, LBHC battled the Lady Trappers with only five players—and no bench. Then, early in the second half, one of the remaining five players for LBHC fouled out, giving NWC a "power-play" advantage of five-on-four—something that is common in hockey, but not in basketball. (At that point I was reminded of the book, Blind Your Ponies by Stanley G. West. Read it.)
And maybe it's just me, but I was a bit surprised that—up by over 20 points and facing a team with only four players who were no better than any one of their own—NWC didn't make it an even fight and stand down one of their players to the side court. What a classy gesture this would have been. No doubt applause would have followed from everyone in the crowd and perhaps cleaned up some of the bad blood between the two teams from the first-half skirmish. But NWC chose to keep all five players in the game, and to add insult to injury, maintained a rotation of "fresh horses" as the LBHC team dragged on.
I'd have understood our team's decision to keep all five players in the game if it were early in the season when playing time is critical, but this late in the season and with little at stake, it seems logical for a display of good sportsmanship to trump over pummeling one's opponent—for a change.
Perhaps I expect too much.
As their lead increased, the Lady Trappers were hardly illustrations of good sportsmanship themselves. You'd think they were losing the game in the demonstrations they put up when they thought they had been fouled (and probably were) or were called for a foul that wasn't all that obvious.
Lastly, the NWC advantage of five-on-four wasn't very impressive or overpowering, and I found myself cheering for the feisty, understaffed, and outgunned Lady Rams as they battled against a superior NWC team. With the exception of the score, such scenarios are hardly favorable for any team in the same position as NWC. Should they blow-out their outnumbered opponent, it comes across as running up the score, and if they don't succeed in blowing them out... well, everyone might wonder how they even won the game. The only respectable thing to do then (especially if the score is lopsided) is to keep the player numbers even.
In closing, perhaps the LBHC team didn't secure any votes in the good sportsmanship department that night, but the Lady Trapper basketball team also failed to recognize or simply ignored a unique opportunity to raise the bar of good sportsmanship.
The young woman from LBHC who was ejected from the game certainly had it coming, but the struggle/skirmish resulting from a loose ball between her and NWC's Ashley Buckner wasn't as one-sided as the writer made it out to be; and talking with other Trapper fans about it, I wasn't the only one who saw it that way. Simply put, both players should have been ejected for the incident. As they say, it takes two to tango (or tangle).
Admittedly I wasn't in attendance when LBHC coach Dominic Gaglia was called for a technical, but coaches drawing technical fouls for remarks directed toward the referees during a basketball game are hardly uncommon. As for Coach Gaglia's inaction following the conflict on the hardwood that lead to his player's ejection; could it have been that he felt frustrated with his team's performance and attitude, slighted by the referees, or was he simply displaying his coaching "style" like that of the stone-faced Tom Landry? Did Mr. Gifford talk to the coach after the game to verify his accusations? I mean, that's what a journalist would do, right... interview coaches after the games?
I'll confess that I'm not a basketball expert, but I do know a thing or two about sportsmanship. So, as long as we're making a critique on sportsmanship, I'd like to point out a "blown call" made by the home team as well.
Having dressed only six players for their game (and we don't know the true reason for this, do we Mr. Gifford?), it seems the Little Bighorn College Lady Rams never had a chance. I suspect the only time the game was close was the opening minutes of the game. So, it's safe to say, the game's outcome was probably never in doubt.
With a dark cloud over the game following the ejection, LBHC battled the Lady Trappers with only five players—and no bench. Then, early in the second half, one of the remaining five players for LBHC fouled out, giving NWC a "power-play" advantage of five-on-four—something that is common in hockey, but not in basketball. (At that point I was reminded of the book, Blind Your Ponies by Stanley G. West. Read it.)
And maybe it's just me, but I was a bit surprised that—up by over 20 points and facing a team with only four players who were no better than any one of their own—NWC didn't make it an even fight and stand down one of their players to the side court. What a classy gesture this would have been. No doubt applause would have followed from everyone in the crowd and perhaps cleaned up some of the bad blood between the two teams from the first-half skirmish. But NWC chose to keep all five players in the game, and to add insult to injury, maintained a rotation of "fresh horses" as the LBHC team dragged on.
I'd have understood our team's decision to keep all five players in the game if it were early in the season when playing time is critical, but this late in the season and with little at stake, it seems logical for a display of good sportsmanship to trump over pummeling one's opponent—for a change.
Perhaps I expect too much.
As their lead increased, the Lady Trappers were hardly illustrations of good sportsmanship themselves. You'd think they were losing the game in the demonstrations they put up when they thought they had been fouled (and probably were) or were called for a foul that wasn't all that obvious.
Lastly, the NWC advantage of five-on-four wasn't very impressive or overpowering, and I found myself cheering for the feisty, understaffed, and outgunned Lady Rams as they battled against a superior NWC team. With the exception of the score, such scenarios are hardly favorable for any team in the same position as NWC. Should they blow-out their outnumbered opponent, it comes across as running up the score, and if they don't succeed in blowing them out... well, everyone might wonder how they even won the game. The only respectable thing to do then (especially if the score is lopsided) is to keep the player numbers even.
In closing, perhaps the LBHC team didn't secure any votes in the good sportsmanship department that night, but the Lady Trapper basketball team also failed to recognize or simply ignored a unique opportunity to raise the bar of good sportsmanship.
Thursday, January 31, 2008
Made In China
October 7, 2005
Last night I threw out my old house slippers that my wife had purchased for me the last time she was in Christchurch. As I carried them out to the alley where the dumpster awaits, I considered the stars above and the thousands of miles the slippers had travelled (not necessarily with my feet in them). After making the glorious journey from New Zealand to Wyoming, they would simply return to the earth via the Powell Landfill. I felt they should be sealed up and shipped back to Christchurch where someone could depose of them in a more respectful manner; much like the remains of a foreign national who is returned to their home country for burial.
I looked at the shoes one more time. The tags on the inside were very worn, but I could plainly read, "Made in China." Hmmm. Still, so far away but, their mysterious appeal and existence seemed to suddenly fade when I considered all the things around me that are made in China. Undoubtedly the slippers will feel right at home in the Powell Landfill.
Last night I threw out my old house slippers that my wife had purchased for me the last time she was in Christchurch. As I carried them out to the alley where the dumpster awaits, I considered the stars above and the thousands of miles the slippers had travelled (not necessarily with my feet in them). After making the glorious journey from New Zealand to Wyoming, they would simply return to the earth via the Powell Landfill. I felt they should be sealed up and shipped back to Christchurch where someone could depose of them in a more respectful manner; much like the remains of a foreign national who is returned to their home country for burial.
I looked at the shoes one more time. The tags on the inside were very worn, but I could plainly read, "Made in China." Hmmm. Still, so far away but, their mysterious appeal and existence seemed to suddenly fade when I considered all the things around me that are made in China. Undoubtedly the slippers will feel right at home in the Powell Landfill.
Sunday, January 20, 2008
Uneventful Bliss
A little after 5:00 this morning my 14-year-old cat, Schnebley, could be heard crying from behind the two doors that separate us from him—the kitchen door and our bedroom door. Before I heard the cat, my ears detected wind chimes clanging somewhere in the early morning darkness signaling a winter storm was undoubtedly making for a miserable morning. Forgetting my slippers, I climbed out of the warm bed to see about him; probably hungry was my guess. As it turned out, I'm not sure what he really needed. He ate a bit, but if I had to guess I'd say he was simply starving for attention. He's a bit fussy about everything. If given the gift of speech, I reckon there would still be times he couldn't articulate his needs.
Although I was up and about early for a Sunday morning, my wife and her two daughters would be rising soon as well—off to the second part of their two-day swim meet at the local high school. So, rather than go back to bed after seeing about Schnebley, I put on some coffee and half-listened to The California Commonwealth Club on the radio with the cat while folding towels from the dryer that were destined for the swim meet. I rather enjoy listening to the CCC, but I rarely get the opportunity as it is only broadcast on my local NPR station Sunday mornings at 5:00 a.m.
In other news on the day, I learned we are officially one year away from inaugurating a new President. Yesterday Hillary Clinton defeated Barrack Obama in the Nevada democratic caucus while Mitt Romney won the Republican version of the same race. Back in South Carolina, John McCain was victorious in the Republican primary there. Alas, I'd vote for any of them over George W. Bush—anyday.
The Patriots of New England are hosting the San Diego Chargers in the AFC title game while the Green Bay Packers are giving the New York Giants a tour of the frozen tundra at Lambeau Field. Who cares? Despite the millions that do care, as I see, they all deserve the bitterest and coldest weather given the NFL's insistence on playing in January and thus squatting on the hockey and basketball seasons.
Meanwhile in Mississippi, it snowed nearly three inches, but the ground is too warm there for snow to accumulate. I gaze out our frosty window considering Mississippi's dreadful snow scenario. That never happens here in Wyoming. Our best hope is that it comes down sideways fast enough that it eventually blows off to Nebraska or South Dakota, but the single-digit cold temperatures always linger.
My feet have grown cold and I'm determined not to retrieve my slippers from the bedroom for fear of disturbing my wife's precious sleep. So, I wait until she is awake. Rather than turn up the furnace while everyone sleeps, I sometimes turn on the kitchen stove—with the doors closed to the small space, it warms up nicely on cold January mornings in Wyoming like today.
The cat continues to vocalize whatever it is that concerns him. And as if it's the most important thing in my day, I direct my full attention to him—like a doctor attempting to solve a patient's problem. I remind myself of a retired, senior citizen at home shuffling about the kitchen while addressing my cat.
Tomorrow is Martin Luther King, Jr. day—a holiday. I have another day to feel as though my only worries are the everyday un-events around this house.
Although I was up and about early for a Sunday morning, my wife and her two daughters would be rising soon as well—off to the second part of their two-day swim meet at the local high school. So, rather than go back to bed after seeing about Schnebley, I put on some coffee and half-listened to The California Commonwealth Club on the radio with the cat while folding towels from the dryer that were destined for the swim meet. I rather enjoy listening to the CCC, but I rarely get the opportunity as it is only broadcast on my local NPR station Sunday mornings at 5:00 a.m.
In other news on the day, I learned we are officially one year away from inaugurating a new President. Yesterday Hillary Clinton defeated Barrack Obama in the Nevada democratic caucus while Mitt Romney won the Republican version of the same race. Back in South Carolina, John McCain was victorious in the Republican primary there. Alas, I'd vote for any of them over George W. Bush—anyday.
The Patriots of New England are hosting the San Diego Chargers in the AFC title game while the Green Bay Packers are giving the New York Giants a tour of the frozen tundra at Lambeau Field. Who cares? Despite the millions that do care, as I see, they all deserve the bitterest and coldest weather given the NFL's insistence on playing in January and thus squatting on the hockey and basketball seasons.
Meanwhile in Mississippi, it snowed nearly three inches, but the ground is too warm there for snow to accumulate. I gaze out our frosty window considering Mississippi's dreadful snow scenario. That never happens here in Wyoming. Our best hope is that it comes down sideways fast enough that it eventually blows off to Nebraska or South Dakota, but the single-digit cold temperatures always linger.
My feet have grown cold and I'm determined not to retrieve my slippers from the bedroom for fear of disturbing my wife's precious sleep. So, I wait until she is awake. Rather than turn up the furnace while everyone sleeps, I sometimes turn on the kitchen stove—with the doors closed to the small space, it warms up nicely on cold January mornings in Wyoming like today.
The cat continues to vocalize whatever it is that concerns him. And as if it's the most important thing in my day, I direct my full attention to him—like a doctor attempting to solve a patient's problem. I remind myself of a retired, senior citizen at home shuffling about the kitchen while addressing my cat.
Tomorrow is Martin Luther King, Jr. day—a holiday. I have another day to feel as though my only worries are the everyday un-events around this house.
Monday, December 31, 2007
4 McCullough Haikus for Benazir
This Time
In each visit here,
defined by worldly events,
Benazir Bhutto.
Wrath
Wrath of the wind cuts,
another leader goes down.
Barren dirt and drifts.
A World Away
News from Pakistan,
events from a world away.
Knifing cold here too.
Givens
Drama in the light
Isolation as always
Wind, cold are given.
In each visit here,
defined by worldly events,
Benazir Bhutto.
Wrath
Wrath of the wind cuts,
another leader goes down.
Barren dirt and drifts.
A World Away
News from Pakistan,
events from a world away.
Knifing cold here too.
Givens
Drama in the light
Isolation as always
Wind, cold are given.
Friday, December 07, 2007
Technology's promise and reality
Laying in bed at the end of the day back in the late 60s, I was often restless as I considered the future and my life ahead. The space program was approaching its pinnacle as our country prepared for its first moon landing. From there, the possibilities seemed beyond my imagination. The future—in my mind, beyond the year 2000—seemed so cool and even though I knew I'd be in my 40s, I was excited and couldn't wait for it to arrive.
Here I am now in the year 2007 with a different kind of restlessness—the kind that doesn't keep me from going to sleep, but the kind that awakens me in the middle of the night. What makes me restless on this particular early morning at 4:00 a.m.—ideas, upcoming projects, caffeine, athletes foot?
Looking back on those restless nights as a kid, it's somewhat disappointing when comparing my ideas of what the future would be like and what it has actually become. Sure there are some things that are pretty slick and are the result of our advancing technology—the cell phone, personal computer and the internet come to mind. However, when I consider how all of these high-tech gadgets are used (or should I say "misused?), that kid's excitement for tomorrow is nowhere to be found. I suppose in my youthful mind I pictured us being a bit more responsible or meaningful in the employment of whatever new technologies that came into play. Had I considered cell phones, I would have seen such calls as legitimate or important rather than the multitude of unimaginative, distracting and dumbed-down calls that are made... "Whacha' doing? Where are you? I'm standing in the isle at Wal-Mart, which margarine should I buy?"
I'm reminded of Springsteen's latest song Radio Nowhere.
I was tryin' to find my way home
But all I heard was a drone
Bouncing off a satellite
Crushin' the last lone American night
This is radio nowhere, is there anybody alive out there?
At 9-years-old and watching Neil Armstrong set foot on the moon, I anticipated that by the time I was, say 47, trips to the moon would be common—even routine. As it turns out, it's still difficult to get there and back. And now that the momentum of the Apollo program has been lost to a program limited to earth orbit, returning to the moon will be like starting all over again.
Perhaps returning to the moon will be more challenging now, given all the new complications that are part of today's intricate technologies. If that turns out to be true, the second part of this saga might be just as exciting for today's 9-year-old kids as it was in the 60s.
For now, let's rename the 1968 film 2001: A Space Odyssey to 3001: A Space Odyssey. Maybe when 3001 finally comes around, Arthur C. Clarke's work will be a bit more accurate of our world then.
Here I am now in the year 2007 with a different kind of restlessness—the kind that doesn't keep me from going to sleep, but the kind that awakens me in the middle of the night. What makes me restless on this particular early morning at 4:00 a.m.—ideas, upcoming projects, caffeine, athletes foot?
Looking back on those restless nights as a kid, it's somewhat disappointing when comparing my ideas of what the future would be like and what it has actually become. Sure there are some things that are pretty slick and are the result of our advancing technology—the cell phone, personal computer and the internet come to mind. However, when I consider how all of these high-tech gadgets are used (or should I say "misused?), that kid's excitement for tomorrow is nowhere to be found. I suppose in my youthful mind I pictured us being a bit more responsible or meaningful in the employment of whatever new technologies that came into play. Had I considered cell phones, I would have seen such calls as legitimate or important rather than the multitude of unimaginative, distracting and dumbed-down calls that are made... "Whacha' doing? Where are you? I'm standing in the isle at Wal-Mart, which margarine should I buy?"
I'm reminded of Springsteen's latest song Radio Nowhere.
I was tryin' to find my way home
But all I heard was a drone
Bouncing off a satellite
Crushin' the last lone American night
This is radio nowhere, is there anybody alive out there?
At 9-years-old and watching Neil Armstrong set foot on the moon, I anticipated that by the time I was, say 47, trips to the moon would be common—even routine. As it turns out, it's still difficult to get there and back. And now that the momentum of the Apollo program has been lost to a program limited to earth orbit, returning to the moon will be like starting all over again.
Perhaps returning to the moon will be more challenging now, given all the new complications that are part of today's intricate technologies. If that turns out to be true, the second part of this saga might be just as exciting for today's 9-year-old kids as it was in the 60s.
For now, let's rename the 1968 film 2001: A Space Odyssey to 3001: A Space Odyssey. Maybe when 3001 finally comes around, Arthur C. Clarke's work will be a bit more accurate of our world then.
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