Tuesday, February 28, 2006
WHAT'S COMING/GOING NEXT? “It seems to me I've heard that song before....” Do you remember that song...those lyrics? Of course, you do because it is pretty hard to really forget things which keep repeating themselves as the years go by. You have certainly noticed how the People's Republic of China has been very busy at buying up large chunks of America. Have you noticed you no longer see or hear about what used to be called “Big Blue” desk and book computers? I.B.M. no longer makes them. As a matter if fact,they sold all of their small computers – desktops and book-sized models to China some months ago. You will see them at your local stores advertised as “Lenova” computers. IBM has, for sometime, wanted to get back to full-time building and merchandising the big stuff which keeps the little stuff alert, alive and applicable to business, commerce and industry in nations all over the world. The deal with China puts 18% of the new stock in I.B.M's pocket which can mean they now have potential possibilities of manufacturing in the Asian ways. Other deals are in the work with China, too. Another Chinese industrial expansion has a bid in on the MAYTAG washer sale which could make headlines any day. China also has been bidding against Chevron for Unical. All of this reminds me so much of the way Japan was on a binge of buying Americans things in the 1980's. Remember? We witnessed their purchase of skyscrapers and movie studios and production firms and manufacturing skills were bartered away into Japan's hands. It seems to me we worried more about then thane do now when the same thing is happening. We do have disturbing news ; war in Iraq, troubles world wide ; domestic quibbles to kept us occupied plus dark, wavering curtains of terrorist threats. There seems to be enough to keep us occupied to worry very much about what China does. Then, back in the '80's we objected we saw Japanese brands replace our own make of cars, trucks, bikes, electronics and sport shoes and equipment. Think of the tremendous stocks of items we are currently importing from China. Our dependency on Chinese manufacturing grows dramatically. Some critics of the Chinese shopping tours currently in progress say they differ from previous forays into America' s riches. The present purchases are being done with a marked difference in who is doing the shopping. The Japanese inroads were largely the doings of rich individuals or small groups of wealthy persons. The present Chinese efforts are staffed by so-called groups operating almost as cadres setting a new base of the armed forces which control them. That can be an important difference, too. Think about it. A.L.M. February 28, 2006 [c473wds]
Monday, February 27, 2006
DON 'T DO THAT! During those years when the concept called for total abolition of all alcoholic beverages nationally I worked as a newspaper reporter. I found largely largely by talking to taxi cab drivers, that there were, at least, twenty-seven locations in our small city a which such forbidden beverages were available. My unofficial “poll” used information from the area's taxi cab drivers. Ours was a city which sneaked into that level of municipal entitlement when it took just five-thousand citizens to be termed a city rather than a town. We used a wide variety of name for such places. Big cities used the name “speakeasy” with the manner of gaining admission to an night club setting. We had few such locations location in our relatively rural area. The terms ”club” or “roadhouse” suggested such degradation in progress. Most such locations came to be known – or, officially “unknown” among potential clients by the name of the owner-operator or a nick-name. A feminine side was evident at times. In one case I recall the ladies sold chickens - de-feathered, singed, cleaned and cut up ready for frying. The men of the family, helping their wives market chickens, packaged them in neat wooden boxes, provided the buyers. Such birds, in transition, found comfort all the way wrapped in papers and all, and resting all the way on a layer of liquid-filled glass containers. We used to joke about the need to keep several of the men on the road so much buying live chickens. Every time I see a new boycott, curfew or blockade affair being started I remember ways I have seen as used by more-or-less normal citizens as they bend, twist, modify and re-interpret the word of the Law. A.L.M. February 27, 2006 [c310wds]
Sunday, February 26, 2006
“GAP CREEK” “Would that I could learn to write with the effortless freedom so evident in works by Leo Tolstoy.” I wrote that line in some notes many years ago when I was reading his fine novel “Resurrection”. I was struck by the simple, directness of his style. He was adept at simply recounting a tale he had heard or was fashioning as he went along. In truth, one found out later, he was skillfully “working” his reader to his own advantage. Readers think and even say what they are thinking as they make quick judgments as too he probable advancement of the story. Tolstoy worked with the advantage the writer of radio or recorded drama in our day. Readers often participate in the telling of the story more than they may realize. The author suggests, rather than sets the next event. The reader, depending on his or her temperament, participates in the progress of the story more than they realize. The writer is suggesting a path the forming tale might take. Reading Tolstoy could do that sort of thing for me. If he had made a male character say to himself or a friend: “She was cold tonight. Could I have said something wrong?” The reader, at that moment reflects on what had been said, what was not said and what might have been said and has a task of choosing what direction the story will take, but it is the writer who remains in charge none the less. Readers feel – without knowing it – they have grown a bit in those seconds. All of this has been brought to mind because I am reading a modern novel which has caused me to recall qualities I admired in the Russian literary giant. The present day book is called “Gap Creek”- the story of a marriage - and recounts the tumble of events happening in the lives of people living along a creek by that name in the western hills of South Carolina just across the line from Carolina-North. In reading Robert Morgan you will enjoy much of Tolstoyian skill with simple details skillfully mixed and blended. It will please you that “Gap Creek” uses not a single word of profanity in contrast to the over use of such artificial terms found in so many of today's lecture novels. Get a copy and read it. “Gap Creek”, Algonquin Books of Chapel Hill, N. C. 1999. It was also an Oprah's Book Club selection so a friend of yours may well have a copy. A.L.M . February 26, 2006 [c434wds]
Saturday, February 25, 2006
ANOTHER ONE Now and then I actually meet people who complain about the fact that they have another birthday coming up. They are going to be one year older and insist they don't like - even the idea of growing older – one little bit. I have just from the celebration, by family and friends, of my 90th year on planet Earth and it has been a very good day. I look forward to more of them. The present tally is: Ninety down and ten more to go!” 2016 will see me hit the one-hundred year mark. After that I'll just have to take my chances, I suppose. You may think such talk to be an idle whim; the prattle of an Old Man. Not so. I've been working on that plan for a good many years and I am convinced that's the way things are headed. I make an honest attempt to provide form my physical self all those qualities thought to be essential to extended years of enjoyable. There's adequate rest, for instance, and I don't let any of these become overdone, thoughtless habit, this includes as much physical work as the body can endure – the body, I said, not the mind which can do some tricky stuff you don't want and certainly don't need if you are at all serious about adding to your number of my years. It can be done. It is being done. Who was it recently - and in the bright world of comedy, too - George Allen who aimed at a hundred and made it. Right away, another funny-bone Jimmy Durante, I think, pledged to try to outdo him. If you have lingering doubts read the Obit columns in your local paper and watch many one hundred-plus persons are particularized in print Funeral homes are waiting longer these days. A plan to celebrate my one hundredth birthday has become a matter of observing proper etiquette, as well. Several years ago, when a young lady surgeon at University Hospital, Charlottesville, Virginia accepted me from a helicopter as a bundle about to burst and fashioned a new aorta for me, I felt re-made and ready. I invited her to be present at my 100th Birthday, February 25, 2016. She accepted and promised to be there. Now, you wouldn't want me to fail to keep my word, would you? It's still ”on” Doctor H. Ninety down - only ten to go! A.L.M. February 25, 2006 [c417wds]
Friday, February 24, 2006
PLANTED PLANET
In 1790 this nation of our was inhabited by one occupational group. Records clearly show that ninety per cent of all early Americans were into agriculture in one way or another. Think ahead to 1970, for instance, and you can clearly see how we have shifted in an occupational sense. In more recent timers, it has been altered even more radically until the work of the farmer has become a lost art, and agriculture is low-rated as a lifework; rural persons seen as second-class, even comic citizens. We laugh at what we once were. I bring this up again at this time, because another occupational sphere of American life is rapidly departing in a similar manner and we are allowing it to happen - even encouraging leave faster. Those individuals who did not prosper as well as they thought they should moved westward and opened up vast news areas of agricultural development. There were few individuals left to fill the jobs such as lawyers, teachers, ministers, storekeepers, bankers, carpenters, stonemasons, innkeepers- only ten percent of the t total population total population was available for such jobs and, in truth, many -even most of them, did “a little farming on the side. The minister of our church in the 1700's made his, living buying and selling cattle and by investing in lands which he, then, re-sold to full-time farmers or cattlemen. Inventions, too, changed the needs of the times. In 1793 Eli Whitney invented his cotton gin which caused changes in the need for field hands. In 1834 Cyrus McCormick patented his reaper which reduced the workload of framers harvesting grains. John Deere and Leonard Andrus, in 1837, began marketing steel plows and, that same year, a new,more efficient reaper was patented. We can see how such a flow of innovations -often from part time farmers, oddly enough, brought about radical adjustments and outright changes in farming. Such a list could be continued endlessly touching on all branches of agriculture, but that smattering should be sufficient to show us that the same sort of thing is taking place right now as we continued to shift our manufacturing capabilities to foreign soil. You can, if you wish, if you wish, show how development of our communications skills and equipment are at fault. We have, in one sense, soft and hardware ourselves to critical points of no return. We have not yet come to realize that the concept of world trade is a reality. Our Congress needs to rid itself of old-fashioned political party mental quirks and stop pushing the “slumber-on button so often and so freely A.L.M. February 24, 2006 [c454wds
Thursday, February 23, 2006
RITUAL OF THE FAMILY COW Time was when I could get up at 5:30 in the morning; step into the fresh softness of the day's first light; stand in the shimmering wetness of a dew-tainted landscape of part-colored primness beyond the window sill, and take an easy breath of the grass-scented air. It dug deep into my lungs with wonderful abundance. Then, feeling my way along, dressed in denim overalls I made it down to the kitchen. There, I filled my lungs with the first smoke of the day by habit which now see as a senseless part of my day then after a sort wait habit forced me to the back porch where I acquired a loose, straw hat. I then, fully committed, gabbed the milk bucket, being careful, of course, not to clang the heavy handle on the edge of the bucket. I had children sill asleep. My wife, by this time, would be stirring, I knew, creating a breakfast that would ”happen” later bacon or sausage, toast, eggs in some form,milk and coffee. It would be there when I came in from the morning ritual of milking the cow. Closer to the barn I would “heel” my smoke in the wet grass, and looked across the field to see if our Guernsey cow “Goldie” had left her favorite site under a fine gum tree pond-side. Some mornings I had to call her in. I'd let the handle down sharply on the milk can's edge - angled towards her like a speaker cone - and she'd started a smart amble toward the feeding stall an instant later. In the barn there was a special smell from the feed barrels and all tons of newly mown hay in loft. Several ducks would soon come out from under the feed racks and begin hissing and stalking about seeking food they could not see yet. They were tall, ed-faced ducks - all “non-quackers.” They hissed and complained a lot and always on starvation status. Milkers always threw ears of yellow corn their way before going to the end of end of the area to feed the pigs. They were often half-grown hogs eating their way happily at a momentary advantage or screaming at excessive greed of others. Meantime, the cow was ready and waiting for the molasses flavored grain mix she loved. The milker would then take an old, bent bucket from a nail on the barn wall. He p[himself well. A few preliminary were sent along the sides of the bucket was a way to get any stray bits of grass or dirt which may have dropped from the udder area at first touch. The loud “ting” caused by that action called ”Tiger” to his tin platter nearby. “Tiger” was our barn Cat who thought he ran the place. He got “first milk” - always. And, “seconds” as desired . When the man stood up that signaled the end. The cat bounded to highest spot available, the ducks scattered, the cow stood still awaiting a verbally assured handful of the molasses tainted feed. The milker often added that as a special note of gratitude. In house the sweet smell of bacon held sway, yes and fresh bread and coffee. Nostalgia? I'd like to think it can happen at any time and in just about any line of work. Let it happen for you. A.L.M. February 23, 2006 [c578wds]
Wednesday, February 22, 2006
HOW DUMB I AM! I hate to admit it, but I was not even aware at our major ports where operated by a British firm! The current plan which became known today urges us to shift them all to an Arabic firm out of Dubai, U.A.E. It came to me as a surprise and, I dare to hazard a wild guess, that thousands upon thousands of other dumb bunny, sadly informed citizens met then subject in the same uncomfortable, way. Now, as we cringe naked more or less among the nervous nations, with a President who's ratings will take a nose-dive tonight as both friend and foe adjust to the idea of our six major ports let out to bidders who will run them for us. George Bush would have to have started talking six months ago to have any hope whatsoever of putting such a concept across. I have strong feelings this evening that today - February 21, 2006, marks the end of the George Bush presidency in some ways. Among the opposition party's candidates, Hillary Clinton, has been quick to say she will introduce a bill to kill the entire venture. Such party action, so soon, is largely grandstanding, while the real harm being done to George Bush's presidency is left with you and with me – the common citizens of our nation. In political matters we are not too bright. I can sit here, right now, and give you an impressive analysis of what our media will be. The nicer units among our media will say Bush's action is “stupid”. Even close associates of George Bush will succumb to the blanketed blandishments of both the printed and the tele-spoken, pictured words. Newspaper editorial staff members will join together to create such prize-winning header as “Stupid! Print media persons will make use of the actuality of TV and the news people TV will paraphrase what they read in the papers. They will bat the subject back and forth until the next press release in made available. I agree with Bush's decision. He six ports have already been under foreign care from years. I don't yet understand exactly what the reasons must be for wanting to make a changed at this time, but feel our has checked that and other such tedious points as well. Meanwhile, think about it. Does it bother you that some of New York City's largest and finest buildings are owned and operated by Japan? Are you concerned that you are making your wife and children ride around in a foreign-made car using gas an and oil from wells owned and operated by the Dutch, British, Saudis, Mexican, Iraqi, Irani, Nigerians and who knows what other people? You wear clothing, footwear, foods and medicines made in a score of around the world. Our favorite brands of many have been made in owned and operated plants in Indian, Taiwan, Nepal, or Haiti. Even now, a new store is being readied on 63rd Street in New York City which will sell products to us by their Chinese trade names. As on as a foreign firm can do their job of managing the ports well they are a plus value. Their wok has merit if it well done. We need to do all we can to help make these ports more efficient, dependable, profitable and growing. They need to see at that various ships dock when and where they are supposed to dock, unload and reload efficiently; observe set rules and regulations , and they have to deal with labor union demands as well. The Longshoremen have never been short on stubbornness, you may remember. Just as it has been in the past, all security measures - and this a critical point in this entire discussion - all security measure responsibilities for the entire port are under the direct control of the United States of America with local Port Authority assistance, of The U.S. Coast Guard and other government branches including national and state military units as required. Don't you find it odd , and disquieting, that we cannot set forth the name of even one American company which is capable of operating these eight ports? Perhaps some of today's “politicking protesters” could look to bringing about some changes in that area if they truly wish to see our ports under local control some day. A.L.M. February 22, 2006 [c730wds]
Tuesday, February 21, 2006
DIRTHumus, soil – that which we often call “dirt” in many types and textures – has a proper and controlling place in the botanical world but some question remains as to the wisdom of making it the basis of our literature. I doubt that the use of excessive cursing, obscenity and sacrilege is really any worse today than it has been for generations, but the means of communicating them have burgeoned into a gelid mass which cannot be measured as it continues to grow, to spread, to penetrate, to infect, canker, rot and ruin – constantly selecting, choosing, setting apart, scarfing in learned, science-tainted methods and carefully delineating among fringe and factions seeking to emulate the lowest elements of civilization. It seems, at times, filth feeds upon filth. The arts of printing, photography, the transmission of actual sounds and the sight of human bodies in action are cast into space and passed along for prurient perusal. To some extent the writer who uses such language contends it to be “realism”. You will hear the same argument today in favor of filth in literature. The Norwegian writer Ibsen said that he and Zola were alike in some ways. “Yes, said Ibsen, “ Zola descends into the cesspool to take a bath; I to cleanse it!” The novel “Nana“, read today, probably would not excite comment. It is mild by today's standards - or lack of them. Today's writers insist their dialog is typical of today's conversation. Emile Zola had a special ability which enabled him to select subject which were distasteful to the general level of society of his time. Zola could pick and choose ways to handle the material he selected in such a manner that it would titillate as well as educate. Some writers in our own time are adept in the use of that same technique. They, you might say “get away with it” and other writers emulate their work in a clumsy, oafish and crass manner. All of us, of course - even though we find it difficult to admit having done so – have tried to our hand at such forms of the art - “the stuff that sells” - with varied results. I have known that strange loneliness of having a story published which caused that edition of the magazine to be banned on campus at girl's. The local paper had an ombudsman-type gossip column declared it was the use of a piece of classical nude art which had got critics excited. I felt better about the whole affair after that and continued to write short stories. From that time I learned which stories should bear my real name and which ones were pen- named. None of those stories ever fell into a low level which seems to be today's accepted mode. Had I spiced them up a bit I may have become a famous writer. But - a poorer person. A.L.M. February 21, 2006 [c488wds] (
Monday, February 20, 2006
BACK THEN I have , for a long time, had a special, personal feeling about the restoration of the town of Williamsburg, Virginia to its Colonial splendor. I feel I had a family connection, a somewhat closer tie to the changes which started when I was at a curious teen ager and while my Uncle Thomas Glen McCaskey was a student at the College of William and Mary. He was very much 'taken'' by the project from the very first campus rumors saying that Rockerfeller foundation funds were going to be available. Uncle Glen's enthusiasm impressed my older brother and I would bring back the gallant Colonial lifestyle we admired so much and we both became ardent supporters of the restoration work which was to bring about so many changes for so many people. From the start new paths of potential value to specific lines of study were undertaken in addition to the actual physical restoration of more than one hundred old building in the area. One such early spin -off, I recall, was on which as of special concern for us,in particular.. The excavations being done around Burton Parish Church in Williamsburg were deemed to be the site where coded artifacts would be unearthed which prove behind all doubt that the literary works we attributed to one William Shakespeare were, in truth, all writing by one Francis Bacon . Maybe you remember that confusing time. Thus far the the supposed coded plates have not been found. My Uncle joined the Rockefeller group and stayed with the Williamsburg Corporation the rest of his life. When he was Vice-President of Development, believe that was the name, he often had a traveling companion in some of his travels - my Aunt Leah - nee Miller, a Williamsburg native whoso folks lived on South England Street until that, too, became part of the restoration. That gave my bother Al, and me even closer ties to Colonial Williamsburg. A.L.M. Febuary 20, 2006 [c340wds]
Sunday, February 19, 2006
WASH DAY
Years ago, when families were larger, when ( or, your “ Grandmother”, if you are younger) made any reference to “wash day” she was talking - not about a few hours during which the family laundry would be “done.” She meant, instead, a full dawn-to-dusk time slot - an entire day - which also had associated hold-over jobs which could last rest of the week. It was often an outdoor activity. The home laundry concept was awfully slow moving into the 20th Century so the routine stayed rather privative. I can remember our neighbors doing their Wash Days out-of-doors and it seems to me they did it rain-or-shine and in all seasons as well. They pretty much followed the rules which their Grandmother had set. Our mother, much younger, adapted the procedure to suit smaller home...not just the kitchen where it often started but - depending on the severity of the weather - it could meander throughout the entire house. Fire was featured fire and the boys next door started a hot one in the back yard over which was suspended a monster, black, iron called a “kittle”. It measured about a yard or more across the top and was the same one used to make apple butter and hog- millin' days each Fall. You had to work from whichever side the wind did not blow the smoke in your face. Water was brought from the cistern on the back porch in b buckets, and when the water was boiling a bit they whittled yellow blocks of home-made soap into the tide and stirred. The women had three piles of laundry nearby. One was the better white things; next was colored items and the third, and largest stack, was work clothes and rags to be used in unending housecleaning chores. I never knew the exact routine. The idea was work each pile through the hot, soapy water - scrubbing stains and spots with knuckles or a washboard, as needed; then, to rinse (pronounced always as “wrenched”) each item in clear, usually cooler water in another nearby tin tubs and dipping items and starch in starch and bluing solutions as needed. Colored items are carefully dipped, not boiled, rinsed gently and set apart. The rough work clothes and rags and have been soaking in the big, iron kettle and they could be scrubbed, rinsed and hung up to dry. We had a wire clothes line in our yard the family next door stayed with Mother Nature. The rags and some work cloths were hung on the wire fence at the back of the yard; tea towels on the and the top of the hedge between our two places was covered. White, frilly stuff was be taken inside and draped over a wooden spindle clothes hanger rig to dry inside the porch. The back yard had to be cleaned up ,of course. Nothing was wasted. As the day waned they scrubbed the back porch with the soapy water from the kettle; poured the tin tubs of “wrench” water into the flower beds, washed the tin tubs and put them in the shed where they were kept. At our house it was all done in a modified manner. In winter clothing could be found drying at just about any place might go. Before too long we moved into an apartment house and got our first electric washing machine which went by the name: “Easy”- a rather large, copper-tubbed machine with a wringer which served us well for many years. A.L.M. February 19, 2006 [c594wds]
Saturday, February 18, 2006
WHAT ABOUT ATHABASCA?Your initial reaction to such a question will, no doubt, be what mine was -”What is Athabasca?” If you happen to be a Canadian, you known the word to be that of a large area of Canada mainly located in Alberta and, to a smaller degree, in and under the province of Saskatchewan. It is, mainly, in the upper north-eastern corner of Alberta and it contains one third of the Earth's entire supply of oil deposits. Your next logical question might be: if that is true, how come we don't hear about the Athabasca area rather than Alaska's North Slopes again-and- again? We hear about the fact that Venezuela has “one third”of all the liquid gold and Saudi-Arabia has the other other The problem with Canadian oil is sand. Most people will agree with you of observe that Saudi Arabia seems to have sufficient amounts of sand as well. You will also find that the celebrated Orinoco oil deposits on the northern slopes of the South American continent are located in sand pits. Accord to figures set forth by the Albert Energy and Utilities Board, the that the Athabasca sands area hold the largest deposit of oil in the world, with estimates in of about 1.6 trillion barrels of oil. Why is we never hear of this fabulous supply? Why are we dependent on oil supplies from the Far East and subject to their price-fixing policies? Other questions come to mind by the score and it would seem it is time for someone to get busy doing everything possible to market these stocks. Some technical questions are involved, I understand. Although it is still a cause of some disagreement and still under discussion, there is a theory which holds that the creation of the area came about when highly Cretaceous shales were exposed to extreme pressure and the oil was absorbed into the soil. Every effort should be made to overcome problems. It could be an international effort if financial problems make it too much of a task for Canada alone. Some research work has been done and drilling by J. D.Tait, of Vancouver has reached depths of a thousand feet. More such work is urgently needed, but, initially, we must clear up whatever difficulties cause Canada and the world of oil-starved nations to keep the Athabasca secret. The first Tait wells were drilled in 1915. The initial surveys were done in 1913 and Sydney C. Ellis,of Canada's Mines branch visited ten plants it the U.S. Seeking methods of extraction. What did he learn? Certainly, we should find out more about this of such promise. The potential value goes beyond dreams because independence independence from Far Eastern oil would affect other aspects of East-West relationships vitally calling for major social adjustments on all sides. A.L.M. February 18, 2006 [c486wds]
Thursday, February 16, 2006
WAVE MAKERS A spacious, new water park is being built a the present time on the down Massanutten Mountain near the town of Penn Laird, Virginia. It promises us all the many wonders associated with water in movement, and among them will be a super-sized pool which will be bring us a regular series of ocean-like waves machine-made waves. It won't be ready until Spring, of course, the folks here in the valley will have to be content with a wave making machine which is functioning here and throughout our country making maximum use of political currents coupled with a plentiful supply of hot air. We have been experienced some wave-making of a political nature. Those persons who have oppose the Bush Administration as a normal reaction were anticipating a time when their spin on the news would be overshadowed in the news by reports from the in Winter Olympics Games from Turin, Italy. It came as a totally and unexpected shock just a day into the opening of the Olympic games get the members of liberal press were listening to their more conservative member -Fox News, precisely, were on the air interviewing the Vice-President of the United States describing a hunting accident in which he had peppered a fellow bird hunter with shotgun pellets. To make maximum use of incident critics centered on an alleged “delay” in calling the media to tell them about the happening. My personal memory of what news reporting tells me this is a sort of story we would have been expected to “dig out” and we would not depend on handouts or await someones call. Normal contacts a the sheriff's office and at the local hospital's emergency unit would tell us that a well known lawyer who had been hunting on a nearby ranch had been admitted to the hospital with gun shot wounds. Chaney withheld such an announcement, thinking it to be proper for the lady who owned the ranch on which the hunters were guests, might wish to inform the local press. Chaney then arranged to talk with Britt Hume at Fox News. Since that time we have been deluged with a fanciful array of wild stories, fabrications, fanciful theories and views beyond the usual reactions. One holds that the same big conspiracy to destroy the nation. Another wants Bush to fire him, and “the drunken hunters” have been documented. My favorite among all of this in will of God bringing shame and disgrace on our wanton leaders who we see as example – purposely killing God's birds for pleasure and enjoyment. Certainly, we ,as a nation of millions, can conduct our political affairs on a higher level than we have this week. I sit here this evening not being proud of “my” generation. It is “your” generation as well. “ “Ours.” A.L.M. February 1, 2006 [c487wds]
Wednesday, February 15, 2006
GETTING ABOUT Sooner or later each of us will reach a physical stage in which we find we can not “get around as well as I used to”. It, of course, alludes to conditions which are perfectly normal. I some rare cases, we see a person who defies all set notions about, growing old other than adding to the number of years one can claim. I have been one who has had that advantage until. Until recently I have had that advantage. It has not been unusual for people to say I did not look as old as I admitted to being. That gave me a good feel, of course,but I maintained no illusions about staying that way for anything but a short span of time. I, over a period of several months, became more more dependent on my trusty cane. It ceased being just a tripod/lever arrangement used to facilitate getting up from seated position and standing firm, and because a questing gadget used to pre-judge any pathway I intended to take. We all seem to have a bit of W.C. Fields in us, when we reach this stage of age. He did it so often when he feigned close association with John Barleycorn and needed to firm up his steps that twirling cane of his seemed to provide him with a third leg or arm and ready access to unusual places. In my cane-use period, I ,too, learned to pick up articles of clothing from shelves, hangers, or wherever I had dropped them. That's one of the first things you will learn to do...pickup just about anything by cane power alone. I quickly found how I could put my sock on using cane-power after having showered, shaved and be ready to move to the kitchen and get the coffee supply perked. Watch some TV news to see if we are still here. If not, go back to bed.
Tuesday, February 14, 2006
TRADE COSTS I am old enough to remember that when we went into debt of any kind we became more cautious concerning what we spent in that area. We set up budgets which caused us to question future expenditures. We often set levels beyond which we might not go. To exceed them was a sure invitation to severe trouble. Should we be thinking along such lines regarding our constantly growing trade deficits with other nations? Are we placing our national well--being in danger when we continue to purchase far more products from other nations? We see the steady rise in both amounts and other costs. I have deep-set feelings which tell me that it is not in keeping with what they logically, ought to be. There is every indication that we might be spending ourselves into a poor house situation from which it will be difficult to free ourselves in the future. We are talking about billions of dollars here, not chicken-feed change. Just this morning I came across a note had written to myself on 4-03-01. In that note, suggesting I write something about the dangers of excess trade debts I was worried. I had come across a chart which showed how imported footwear alone from China and other areas overseas. Our department store shoe sections – with styles for men, women and children – both dress and sportswear types are now door-to-door, mostly wall-to-wall Chinese or Indian. The “Shoe Stores” are going fast. Any one such location looks pretty much like all the others. China has moved in to our markets here in the United States aggressively and if you agree with view you are shocked, puzzled, and in loud favor of our government 'issuing protective legislation” to “put a stop to the invasion.” Others welcome the change with open arms, purses, checkbooks and credit cards. Some the causes of this entire change result from the fact that far too many American manufacturing firms decided to stay with their old, worn, obsolete and inefficient plants, procedures,and physical equipment. The German and Japanese moved into the American market quickly using the modern plants we helped them build. They entered strongly into both light and heavy areas. Latin American nations and other joined in, but the main thrust has been toward Asia. Residents found them familiar, but a visitor just returned from China reports only one of these twenty one remains to be seen in seen in the streets today:”Coke”. Get ready to see Chinese products logo on your store's shelves. They're already here on the Internet. A.L.M. February 14, 2006 [c445wds]
Monday, February 13, 2006
I'M WAITINGThere appears to be no hurry among United Nations members to start some sort of even a modest clean-up of the mess among which they have, plainly, been living for some years now. Months go by without any indication that projected changes be made to bring about some semblance of propriety in the routine management of the organization. It has fallen far short of expectations in many ways. True enough, some disregard for such petty rules set up years ago which now seem to some as being irksome, might well be modified to suit today's needs. Charges, however, which can be called “outstanding” against some UN officials are monumental in size, complex in many inter-social and, inter-social ways and serious enough in the public mind to, if untended, to bring about an end of the U.N. Concept. The most glaring fault might well be gross mismanagement of funds associated with the “Food For Oil” program in Iraq. It has all making of an old-fashioned stinker scandals of our old political scams during the days of ward heel crooks and politicians who knew not the word “truth”. We like to believe that we put a stop to such schemes by subtle use of punishment in various forms. To make this entire U.N. scene more acceptable, we need to revive some of the former ways of making politicians look bad. A widely method used o be to stop voting for them, but you quickly walk around that one by pointing out that we don't vote for U. N. No,of course not, but we do have public servants of our own. What's wrong with letting our own people know we expect them to rev up some their vacuums, get busy with some stiff brooms and huff-and-puff in the sleek presence of these self-appointed potentates of the U.N. other world. The longer we let loose leaders look lousy to the average world citizen, the tougher it is for all of us to maintain stability in concepts of mutual understanding and respect. Now that cartoonists have been tagged so unfairly, we must avoid pointing out how easy it is to show a faltering, falling, failing United Nations by simply reversing the first set of the letters “i” and “t”. A.L.M. February 13, 2006 [c392wds]
Sunday, February 12, 2006
BIG BOY A great grandson of mine sat beside me as we watched the President of our a nation deliver his “State of the Union” message recently. Neither of us expected too much because those annual reports are, usually, pretty much pre-cut and dull. That would hold for a two-year old, I'm sure but he showed interest in seeing which one of the men on the TV screen was “his President.” e really wanted to know,to, because g-grandson Dakota Fulk has a unique sense of possession, I find. He makes no distinction between that which we might call: “our”,“his,” “her” or “their” and “mine”. He put his finger tip on that figure and accepted that image as being “mine”. I has used the word “your” which ,by his system, was to be his - “mine!” henceforth into forever. Our family is, of course, aware of this odd view of ownership rights and different members have, playfully, tried to talk him out of such ideas which adults see as a type of selfishness. It may well work out that all of us will learn a thing or two from this boy and others like him, who take pride in valid ownership and want to do the best the best they can to care for that which has been placed in their hands. That boy has already learned a lesson which usually comes to older youths – when we claim ownership, we also accept new responsibilities. The concept he experienced and the actions he took will all, no doubt, fade away as just another example one of those oft-times silly things grandparents do. I find myself wondering what I might think if on some day in the future little Dakota sees a picture “our president” - points at it and says: “Mine!” A.L.M. February 12, 2006 [c315wds]
Saturday, February 11, 2006
SPECIAL DAYS What is the charm and special meaning any particular day in our lives? Each new span of hours we call “a day” comes to us a fresh and wonderful opportunity – a “rough” - unfaceted gem awaiting the magic kiss of light which will awaken its universal elements to reflect the realities of love and living; of honor and respect and other enduring aspects of the better side of human nature. It must be chipped, shaped and properly polished to suit Mankind's standard of beauty in the particular era of discovery. Older men and women seem to have a set reply when greeted with any expression concerning the arrival of another good day. They say: “At my age - any day that gets here is a good day!” Each timed they repeat it they heart as something they had “just made up. Hearers laugh as if it were. All days are special to someone. It is true that we make them what we really want them to be, I suppose, but certain days are special because we have been told they are by someone who thinks they should be. That being the case, it must be, then, hold true that all days mean many things to different people! You birthday date, for instant. So do thousands of other people! You can easily finds long lists of people born on our birthday date and decedents will, no doubt, chat lightly about the number of persons who died on the same day you will. Do we, indeed, honors a citizen as having been outstanding when we name a special day in his or her memory? I have come to doubt that it is a good thing. It serves well to give the founders a few good feelings of having done something to remember the departed one, but it is really a good, dependable means of seeing to it that the designated one is systematically forgotten, sorted away in our national annals just short of being f raged, obliterated, or run through the shredder. Do you realize that we, as a leading nation on Earth, so “honor” just one man...and one only...today? There have been many more – both men and woman of nationally and internationally-known persons so many, in fact, that you may well be, even now, making a hasty list of those you can recall. Forget about the names of individual Presidents. We now observe “President's Day” honoring all in a single national holiday whomever they were. The only national holiday honoring an individual man is our latest – that observed for Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. I have met with some insist that we honor the name of Jesus Christ as we observe the Christmas Holiday. One can observe such an invitation to argument only with concerns about the nature of legislation we have received, are getting and may have handed to us at any time by our legislative and judicial area occupants. A.L.M. February 11, 2006 [500wds]
Friday, February 10, 2006
TALLY TIME It concerns all of us. The seven major Protestant church denominations of our nation are all showing marked losses in membership. We all need to try to determine why this is happening. We need to become aware that this it not exactly new. It has been happening over a span of years but only recently has it become evident that such losses are becoming steady and it could lead to real harm for some groups if such an exodus continues - even at present rates of decline. To often, when such a crisis arises, there is a tendency for us to waste our time, efforts and funds in a frenzy of contrasting and/or comparing strange mixtures of figures, statistical summaries, and some downright falsifications to prove “who” among all church groups can be said to be stealing “what” from”whom”. Such pettiness is pathetic. This problem faces all members of the various religious divisions. One can no longer point at another and lay blame upon them. We are involved. Right away we want to know who is “losing” and who is “winning”. Much depends on overall memberships! Percentage lists can be deceptive. One protestant group shows a decline of 57.2% - a loss of over one million members during the study period 1965 to 2003. Another one - my own – lost one million-eight hundred thousand members in that same thirty-eight year span of time. Other loses run from as low as 12.3% and the remaining four are puzzling as well one lost 25% which mean that 2,816,122 former members are somewhere else Sunday mornings - or , are they? An easy solution to the problem: Check to gate at other churches reporting gains in members over the same time period. The Assembly of God churches took in 2,157,439 new members. 377.1% gain. The Southern Baptist Convention shows 5,669,030 - a 52.6% gain. Roman Catholic (US) show a gain of 45.4% ...around 21,013,592 new members. That enough figures for you? Play around with them as other church member are doing across the nation, or start searching for the real reasons behind these changes. The gains shown above ignore the normal gains of actively engaged congregations; no one seem to be aware of the existence of score of independent, non-denominational, unaffiliated churches scattered all over the country. They claim memberships of fifteen thousand. One I heard claims “over forty thousand “ and they are appearing on television more a more in advancing evangelistic forays and imitations thereof others who have tried that way before – some with marked success. We have yet to evaluate the true effect of that which we call the “Electronic Church”...people -thousands of us – who “attend” church service every Sunday in this way. The denomination which first discovers a method in which members may worship at home will upset membership statistics in a fabulous way. A.L.M. February 10, 2006 [c487wds]
Thursday, February 09, 2006
BE MY GUEST I doubt, seriously, if any of my college professors, classmates or co-workers would have looked approvingly on any of the pages of a scrapbook I maintained in those days and months of long ago we called “1934”and “1935”. They might well wondered why I chose to include in the variety of newspaper clippings which were,I assume, to represent the essence in the era. Why,they would certainly wonder, why I choose to include did I choose a boxy little, single-column item headed:“Just Folks”. It was daily feature written by the most eminent and financially blessed poet of our time. He wrote for the ultra-average persons among us. There were those who insisted they never took valuable time to read “his stuff.” (Some said: “such trash”). It was syndicated in hundreds of papers and served well, I thought at the time, as pert,a bit sassy and cutting comment on our actions, deeds and devious in the l930's. He wrote “verse” we read as “poetry” and he, with some others who had the a rare “human touch” with a words brought us up and over the literary quagmire of the l930's Depression Years. I dared anyone to dig out a selection of Guest's greatest to be re-read personally. Take, for instance, a poem he did titled “Dogs and Men” which just happens to be the first one in my old scrapbook. It is short poem in which he points out the fact that when dogs have nothing to do, it being day or night, be they thoroughbred or mongrel will stretch out and sleep that time away when they have time to kill. No customs to obey; no certain hours when things must be done. They have time to kill. The poet sees the contentment and restorative rest and wishes he could sleep like that. I find yet another secondary value in having saved those Edgar G. poems: Having been syndicated, each of the has printed in the edge the date of publication. Nowhere else in that collection of too closely clipped clippings did I date any item. The daily dated Guest verses keep me on track. Rather than concern myself about such a lapse, perhaps I had best stretch out and take a nap. A.L.M. February 9, 2006 [c395wds]
Wednesday, February 08, 2006
CATCH UP I have, for many years, heard men and women of generally satisfactory mental stability forcefully announce within the hearing range of some who always remembers such statements – that, when retirement years rolled around for them “things” were really going to change. Yes, in that oncoming day when retirement freedom takes over, all of this business rush and bother and excitement, and appointments and senseless trips to h here, there and everywhere,that constant rush of trying to keep up with life swirling around you endlessly – all such matters are going to cease to be! Retirement is going to be a a blessed time of absolute surcease from sorrow and aggravation of all kinds; those things everyone feels must be done; all that Very few of you are going to accept much of that other than common hogwash of our times. None need to have it made any clearer as to who is trussed up on that spit and being laved and readied for slow rotation over a constant flame. Few are under any illusion that retirement lives on in traditional meanings. I am in a situation most would find to be unusual – some, even impossible. I have never, in all my working days - and nights – been employed by any firm - local, national or multi-national who had any authentic employment retirement funds arrangement whatsoever. I am forced, at this point, to admit that I did, indeed receive in my mail a check from the firm's Los Angeles offices six years after I ceased to be employed by the firm as a Technical Writer. There was a two line letter informing me that the check covered earnings from a “Profit Sharing Plan”. The check was for the three dollars and some odd cents, as I remember it. The harsh reality of retirement will face current groups in a much different way than in the past perhaps. Much of the true joy of reaching retirement is to be found in the simple fact that you lived that long and became whatever was you thought you wanted to be some day. There will come a time when you will see names you have known of people you have and lived and worked with, slipping through the Obituary columns almost daily it seems. When you realize you are seeing such notices less and less retirement time is here. A.L.M. February 8, 2006 [c415wds]
Tuesday, February 07, 2006
THE BEST YOU CAN Have you ever had a feeling that you would like to do something truly worthy of recognition, praise and gratitude of all Mankind? Of course you have. We all wish to excel in some special way, so that we might accomplish some special deed which will earn for an honorable place for us in the annals recording it he sequence of event which mark man's progress. We often feel inadequate to do such a thing and we have devised a system by which we can “educate” ourselves to undertake such a demanding task. We set up certain courses of discovery, study, discussion , experiments, and contemplation - even beseeching words of prayer and of devotion are voiced if we be of a of a religious nature. We make endless preparations for an event far in our future, and ignore the potential of acting at the moment to better ourselves. We need to pay more attention to that fund of opportunity which is set up in our path for our use even as we tread the rigorous road which is to determining our distant prosperity...perhaps. Our present scheme of preparations - that which we call “education” - needs to be re-aligned to enable instructors and students to comprehend possibilities for advancement at any time...which may occur at any time. In Oran, North Africa, during World War II a group of Arabs who were faced with a need to show unified views in the presence of western troops moving into their village, showed up neatly dressed in what appeared to be new robes. The material was a course texture – possibly a mix of burlap and canvas , someone suggested, if a material ever existed. There were a dozen or so of them and only the fact that some English language printed on the back of each of them told us how their uniforms came to be. Presumably, on the local Black Market , they had found some standard G.I. Mattress Covers. They needed to cut head holes in top center; arm holes in the upper corners; slit top-to-bottom in the front, and trim the lower edge according to the height of the wearer. Worn with a few colorful sashes, belts and straps they were an amazingly sharp lookers. Those needy men seized on an opportunity to better their lot. They served well as liaison for east-west relations while we were there. After the war I dare say they drifted back, one-by-one to their black market locations. Even at their worst, our own “bad times” hold opportunity We must be alert and ready to take advantage of them as they whiz by! A.L.M. February 7, 2006 [c453wds]
Monday, February 06, 2006
SASSY ATTITUDE Even during our best of good times we are a nation of individuals who carry a chip of a sort on our shoulder and dare any scoffers to try to knock it off. It is an attitude we seem to have a which is built in at birth. I know must disturb some people who may be without in as an inherited trait. Look back, if you will, and see how the concept is a basic platform on which we build. It has been called by some: ”the Power of Positive Thinking” and that's true but somewhat limited. Deep down, most of us feel that “things are going to get better.” That pattern often falls apart - especially during an election time – when we construct all sorts of false, temporary models of what “good” is expected by someone else's ideas and plans rather than by our own, heartfelt desires. People get what they want because they work for it. You ,right now, have no idea concerning the identity of the men and women who dominate the lives of future citizens. Often, judging by our past, the best among them will likely prove to be stubborn; a bit selfish and self-centered at times, disagreeing with you in many ways. Daniel Boone, a guide in the wilderness of an expanding press of people, never admitted to being. He did, however, freely admitted to having been a bit confused for as much as three or four days at a time. We read so often, case after case, in which valuable adjuncts or list of drugs, fine foods, money and time-saving products. Numerous leaders have insisted our nation remain always one and forever free I can readily understand how so many citizens turned against Abraham Lincoln and, in my time, F.D.R. It is easy to see now why people took their actions so much to hear and deemed them to be too revolutionary and erratic. It may well prove to be that this national trait - a tendency to think we can always be right on everything as caused to too suffer woes we might have avoided had we been ,”easier to get along with” Too many other nations see it aggressiveness. Here at home we have educated several generation of young talent to seek to haven in academia even while world industry calls urgently for strong, confident individuals to take active, worthy roles in today's drama of real life. A.L.M. February 6 , 2006 [c420wds]
Sunday, February 05, 2006
NEW MUSEUM A brand new museum has just recently been opened in the Salween river area not far from the western border of China. It is unofficially being called " The Hump Pilot Museum", and very few of those it honors will ever get to see its displays. A main portion of the modern exhibition buildings showing starkly white against a dense green forest background is a large aircraft hanger which houses a B-25H which is typical of so many of the cargo planes which hauled massive amounts of supplies of all kinds from India, over The Hump, into China. If an group of veterans has been slighted by the American people it has to be those who served in the CBI region. In fact, the vast majority of American don't even know where Burma was. I say "was" because it now called " Miramar". It is that long mass of solid land, heavily populated by varied tribal groups, which stretches in long sweep to t the south between India and China; briefly touching Laos and it shares the long leg to the sea Thailand. On the west side Miramar fronts on the Bay of Bengal and touches Bangladesh. The Americans started building the Ledo Road in December of 1942. The 45th Engineer Service Regiment worked in un-surveyed territory. Peaks mounted as high as 4300 feet along a 103 mile trail and the terrain demanded that about l00,000 cubic feet of earth and rock be moved in ever mile constructed. In 1943 four units - the 848th, 849th, 858th and 1883rd - joined them and the lead bulldozer reached Shingwiyang on Dec. 27th l943 - three day ahead of schedule. Fifteen thousand men worked on that road. An unusual fact: sixty percent of the American troops were blacks. As the construction crews drew close to the end of their work which would increase our ability to bring in supplies,and equipment, General Chiang Kai-shek, the Chinese leader decreed that no black soldier would be allowed to set foot in China proper. The rule was, later, modified to allow a few blacks to go as far as he 823rd EAB built that first segment along a narrow, steep trail cut through un-Kumming for road work. His only stated reason: his Chinese troops had never seen black soldiers. The new museum has high walls showcasing documentation of various actions when the road was under construction. I doubt seriously that any of this has been - or will ever be - graphically displayed. A.L.M. February 5, 2006 [c428wds]
Saturday, February 04, 2006
SOURCES OF CRIME Each generation decides where crime comes from to mess up its plans for our living a better life. We select some recent addition to our daily schedule and mark it as being harmful to society. It is made into a scape goat, of sorts. Anything we don't completely understand becomes bad for everyone. We campaign against whatever our most evil might be and carefully let our rule-setters, even our lawmakers that “while you and I can handle it, sir, but there must be thousands of good people out there who cannot do so!” New rules. Restrictions. Even new laws which caused us to have get along without such words as “saloon”, “sot” “bar room bum “and the like for a while so we could rename everything. Do know what one of my personal crime cause friction was when I was a kid? You may have met with the same one. It was “The Dime Novel.” In truth, the true Dime Novel of history had ceased to be in the 1920's when I became a reader. By that time at the very bottom rung of every ladder of publications there was a class called “the pulps”. They were printed on a cheap, unfinished paper as were many newspapers of time rather than on slick-surfaced paper which was becoming common in new magazines of that era. They were cheap and for a dime we cold read adventure, mystery, romance, sea tales, and cowboys and Indians on a wholesale basis, especially so as we traded, bartered or sold issues among ourselves. This type of magazine is still being derided today by critics who have not the slightest idea of what they mean. True enough, in time, the books began to specialize and some went “off the table” on subject matter “into the pink” and helped doom the entire category. The Dime Novel was said to have been hastening our assured passage to Hell! What can you blame today? TV in general? Sex and Violence on TV? The movies? Or...maybe today's $36.75 plus tax and shipping fee novel! A.L.M. February 4, 2006 [c401wds]
Friday, February 03, 2006
WX – WAYS AND MEANS OF I enjoy reading about all the things professional weather people do so they can tell us about possible changes in wind direction, velocity, projected pathways of entire systems potential modifications of the world wide – even solar and space dimensions of the weather . At time, they unload a bit much on us - snow, sleet, ice, rain, avalanches, floods, searing drought all those things we think we have had in more than sufficient amounts. Several years ago novelist Sydney Shelton wrote a fine novel all weather oriented individuals should read about a time when man can “control” as well as predict and postulate potential deviations from established norms established by observation and detailed record management. Would you know how to control the weather? Would you do so to the mutual advantage of many, or to the financial advantage of an elite group.? In his novel which was titled “Are You Afraid of the Dark?”. The mystery writer creates a gigantic “Think Tank” with brothers heading up a group intended to be, by the founder, engineering genius a beneficent, worldwide society doing good for all. Younger brother takes over and develops a world wide system of weather control to be used to his advantage. In order to solidify his post as head of the Think Tank systematically begins to kill off all who oppose him. The plan he sets motion feeds on itself and a cycle of executions became necessary from his view. The two detecting widows oppose him at every turn and writer Shelton comes up with some unusual ways of catching them. The novel does not have ordinary chapter divisions. Chapters consist of short and medium episodes more or less complete each within its self , setting forth views of participants including, quite often, those of the villain himself. The average reader feels he know what each character is supposed to do. A typical example: why, you might wonder does one of the girls, while they are fleeing from a hotel room bombing which was to have killed them insists on stopping in for half an hour at a beauty shop to have her hair done up. Moments later when a killer man wrestles her to the floor, he falls flat gurgling blood a seven-inch plastic, serrated “hair pin” in his jugular vein. If you are seriously interested in planning to control the weather you will want to read this book. It's at your local library. A.L.M . February 3, 2006 [c424wds]
Thursday, February 02, 2006
WHEN I AM I find myself, quite often, quite frequently, setting aside certain in things I plan o do when get old. Just this past week I had a jolt of a sort when someone, half-jokingly, I hope, accused me of having reached that goal some time ago. I waited until they were gone before I thought about it and decided they had been ”absotively correct” - which we don't say. We try to avoid saying that we are getting old and devise all sort of ways and means whereby we hope to fool others. We dye our hair, replace teeth, don glasses to see a bit better, and change clothing according to the time of day or take other steps to maintain our youthfulness. I have decided old aged starts at the moment you first doubt if are one or the other. Really, I was shook-up a bit when I had it explained to me at I was to turn ninety this month. I've done a lot of rethinking this week after the news of my intended arrival a time and place I've already been for years without realizing it. I suppose others have had such a feeling of not growing old, and I wonder how it all came about. On sure reason is the presence of children – my brothers and sisters when we were growing up; my first wife Irma and our two boys; my second wife Vivian and our four daughters! Th was beginning and now we have grand children and great-grand a-plenty to kick it all along. “Never a dull moment!” has been used often to describe it and I think a maxim such as that one holds merit. I have been singularly and plurally blessed in far too many ways. Many other factors, of course, enter into the making of an old person who remains forever young in attitudes and who has a very live sense of being an active portion of God's total creation. I will mark my 90th birthday February 25, 2006, and I still look forward 2026 -that one-hundred year mark. I've invited friends and I would not want to disappoint them in any way. Perhaps, then, we can sit on some pillowed chairs and talk about how it might be when I am...old. A.L.M. February 2, 2006 [c402wds]
Wednesday, February 01, 2006
EVERYBODY'S GOT 'EM You probably think that you have more than your fair share of the world's problems. Everywhere you look, something always seems to be in need of some changes, repairs, or something else to take up one's spare time. That is most common. Almost a sure thing. Let me tell you what happened of to a friend ours when he bought a small home in the suburbs. It was a neat, little home, with three bedrooms, two baths, kitchen/dining area, living room/den combination, and a single-car garage tacked on the north end. His house was located on a corner lot. The front, facing the street, had no fence - only two boxwood, one on each end of a narrow, concrete-slab porch. The had been built before the others in the area had been “thrown up”by less concerned contractors. The corner house looked like a house. The other rows of places up and down the street appeared to anyone flying above the development like a litter of identical piglets with their mouths/doors - some open, others snapped shut - evenly spaced along guttered edge of the feeding trough the street appeared to become. Troubles are often built-in but try to add something if you want to experience real problems. My friend bought the place knowing that he wanted to tear down the small frame, utility building in the back yard along the side fence. It just not large enough and the location was perfect. With such an idea in mind he found a contractor who built that type of structure and talked it all over with him. Fine . Ideal site. Reasonable cost. With such a building he could let his two hobbies grow – ham radio and carpentry work on a small, gadget, do-dad scale -nothing too cumbersome . He didn't expect the kind of troubles that came his way, however. The contractor told him he would have to have a County Building Permit before he could start work. At the County Government offices, after he finally found the right person who handled such matters, he was told he would have to submit two copies of the original plans for the intended building for official approval and affirm his standing on environmental concerns of natural balance, social and esoteric matters The copies were made an returned to the county offices for study. If the request was opposed in any way a Public Hearing would be scheduled at a cost of $237.00 for use of facilities. It was noted that permit must be obtain to cover water and sewerage supplies and services of which were tied in with house. There was also a matter of an electrical serve to determine if wiring was in accordance with hobby requirements. All new site requirement were then set forth. The new structure had to be placed at least fifteen feet away from the fence along the road. That would place the it building in the middle of the yard and against the house. It might also be necessary to cut and uproot one of the few gum trees remaining in the entire area. The entire project is now said to be:”on hold.” The contractor, who has apparently run into such problems before has one suggested plan. It is very simply. “If you will just tell me to build two identical twelve foot square buildings located where the shed now stands we face none of these problems. No permit is required, and you can put it where you like. A.L.M. February 1, 2006 [c596wds\
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