The Heat is On- Geothermal Energy

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This weekend, I touched base with a friend of mine who noticed my pictures of Nevada. She asked me why I left certain places out that were worth seeing, in her opinion, and so I asked what sites she referred to. Keep in mind, this girl grew up here, whereas I did not, and so she actually hasn't been to them in many years.

Nevada Senator Harry Reid proudly attaches himself to geothermal power. His blind fascination with this type of electric power at the exclusion of all else is responsible for the lack of pictures from a few of the sites I really wanted to visit in my travels. Since he's not telling you the whole truth about the projects (probably because he doesn't really know the truth), it's time you knew.

The problems with geothermal energy are legion. Geothermal energy is obtained one of two ways:

1. Cap off a natural vent where the magma beneath the crust comes close enough to the surface to heat groundwater to a boil (i.e. where a volcano might form)
2. Drill down into the earth and tap the heated aquifer beneath the surface

Either way, I do not see how either one of those is really a good idea. If you cut holes into the earth in order to tap geothermal energy, how is that better than mining for coal? If you cap off the geysers, how will that affect Pressure and Temperature balance (think what would happen if Yellowstone exploded)?

The other problem with geothermal power that puts it on par with all of the so-called dirty means of power generation is that it involves vented gas. A superheated gas, or even supercritical fluid in some cases, comes with high energy rates and unpredictable kinetics. These heated gases escape into the atmosphere along typical convection currents, and since they're heated beyond the 98F at which our respiratory exhaust leaves our body, the rate of effusion into the atmosphere is higher than our basal metabolic rate, or even that of an internal combustion engine (mine operates near 220F whereas the geysers are much hotter). Plus, these geothermal vents usually include other, less palatable gases like sulfides and sulfates (think how Yellowstone smells when you visit, phew). These are the same pollutant compounds that are allegedly bad in coal.

Finally, and perhaps most dastardly, the geothermal craze renders the landscape no longer beautiful. Take for example:
Beowawe, NV

Nightinggale, NV

Tracy-Clark, NV

NGP: a drilling initiative ("My God man. Drilling holes in his head isn't the answer..." --Leonard McCoy Star Trek IV)

Steamboat near Reno, NV

Dixie Valley, NV

Or the list of NV projects under Nevada Power in summary

Point being, these used to be places people went to see things. I will try to remember to post pictures of what I was able to screen out of these places, but you have to ignore the glaringly ugly buildings that capped what was worth seeing there and have caused other problems.

I used to work at the Tracy-Clark/USA Parkway exit on I-80, and the road ices over with fog from the exhaust from the power plant. The water near the plant is so hot that no fish live hear it. It's a hazard, not in and of itself, but because we stepped in and messed with it.

Basically, Geothermal power is not a panacea. Not that oil is, but there's a really good reason we don't still use steam engines.

The Kid Chooses

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I spent the evening watching "Big", which is one of the only Tom Hanks movies I really like. I felt oddly uplifted and inspired by the movie, its messages having affirmed in a way the walk of life I chose to live.

Among the many messages the movie portrays, we see why it's important to be like little children. Josh goes to work in a toy company, where all the adults have forgotten what it was like to be kids and as such cannot relate to them, which is their only function. They can't even have fun at the company party without Josh there. Fun being the means to happiness, Josh's penchant for clean fun helps everyone who spends time with him come to a greater degree of happiness as a result.

Aside from fun, Josh serves as a symbol for purity. He has no ulterior motives, and his innocence works like a shield and a salve on everyone who's been hurt by life's harsh realities. For those who get to know him, including especially the girl, he affirms her belief in the goodness of people, shows her that people can be decent like we want them to be, like we used to think they were when we were young.

In the end, what Josh wants most is to go back to his family. Back in his old life, he has friends about whom he cared and who accepted him and miss him. In his new world, he has a "girlfriend", but he realizes he's not ready for that. Oddly enough, the successes of his career matter very little.

Why do we have to put that away and become adults? Why can't the world be full of valiant knights who slay dragons and rescue fair damsels? Why can't it be about fun, about service, and in the end about family? The Kid chooses- let the kid in you choose the way you want the world to be. He can help actualize it if you let him.

Giving Gibbons Credit

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Much as I dislike our current Governor, I am not one to withhold credit where credit is due. In what I can only describe as a coup de gras, the Nevada State Legislature did this week what our esteemed neighbor to the west can only dream of- balance the budget. The governor called for a special legislative session to reduce the Nevada state budget by over $1 billion after he discovered accounting errors and shortfalls in funds availability, occasioned by his predecessor's poor fiscal policy and the softening economy (note, I did not call it a recession).

Governor Gibbons has not led a charmed first term in office. Plagued by allegations of scandal, in the midst of divorce proceedings, and after an embittered election in 2006 for both himself and now his estranged wife, I doubt the governor counts many of his friends still with him. I wish to take this opportunity and give him a standing ovation for his efforts, which succeeded in keeping his pledge to not raise our taxes.

Now, at present time, I fall under the category of employee that might have suffered personally if the legislature had their way. They proposed to ablate the current 4% COLA for state employees, which for me accounts to only about $100/month in take home pay, as a way to alleviate some of the budget crisis. Much as I could use that money, I feel willing to sacrifice that, since I am after all paid with TAX MONEY, which is unfairly stolen from my friends and neighbors to fund bloated programs. I am on a mission of my own to help extend the purchasing power of the agency where I work, since I'm sure even if I save money someone else will spend it. At least then you can rest assured that I after the fashion of Potipher am acting as righteous steward over the estate. The government should be willing to cut back.

In the dark light that has been cast upon the governor, I esteem him as never before in light of this program. His special session ended up CUTTING budgets for all government agencies by 3% (which is nothing- I cut my own department spending by 80% this year alone), while still leaving our COLA intact. Yay for pay raises (I also expect a promotion, which is another story ;)).

Two other items of special note: The governor secured a reduction in textbook funding (I remember having to buy my own when I was school age) by 50%.

However, under a provision passed by the Legislature, the textbook money can be restored if revenues exceed projections. The remainder of the shortfall will be made up by tapping reserve funds for various state agencies and programs.

This is, in my mind, the way to do it. If we have extra money, we do more things. While I prefer they refund the money, like Guinn did in 2005 with our DMV registration tax, I don't mind spending more money if there is more money (which there won't be). It sure beats letting them pass another tax, which I vehemently oppose. I have never voted for a tax increase, no matter how much the bleeding hearts plead for it or how logical it sounds. More on that another time too. However, the last phrase leaves me wondering, why do state agencies have reserve funds?

We already operate under bloated budgets. In April my supervisor came to me and said I had the option to personally spend $10000 by June 30th. I didn't NEED anything, but I used the money to buy things I will need next fiscal year, assuming that the prices will go up by then, figuring I might as well buy things I use anyway. It was hard to spend that much money in a month. In fact, I left $6000 unused, which another associate quickly gobbled up and squandered on lavish luxury items we don't NEED. If on top of that we had a reserve fund, how in Hoboken would I spend that money on top of it?

My boss asked me to come up with a proposal to our Division Chief to cut expenditures in the department. Some of the ideas will make me very unpopular with my coworkers, and it may truncate my career in the state (except that they can't fire me now muhahaha- I'm off probation). Some ideas will make me unpopular with our contractors who have come to expect a never ending pool of fundage on which to draw as we are a state agency. However, none of the ideas will adversely impact our ability to do our job efficiently and effectively for the public, and if we can do the same with less, we don't need as much money from the taxpayers, and we could theoretically GIVE SOME BACK.

Now, I'm not trying to buy votes by thinking you're all stupid enough to thank me for giving you back your own money. I am trying to be a responsible steward of the public trust, and that is what I recognize Governor Jim Gibbons (R-NV) as having done- "exercising the office to which he is appointed in due diligence." He may have other problems, but in this he kept his word, and I will not easily forget it.

Many of our elected officials politic- trying to be all things to all people whenever it's convenient. They say we need more government, that they need more money to meet our needs, when all it takes is someone to take a logical approach to analyzing the crisis and provide options. Most government employees don't care that much. At least the governor of Nevada is trying to meet the budget crisis without raising taxes. Kudos sir, and Godspeed.

Redeemed by Rebates

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On another blog I read, I notice that people are still asking when their “prebate” check will arrive. Granted that some money has been waylaid, and some other funds may be lost, but I have to opine the stupidity. When I file my taxes, I receive my refund by electronic transfer, and my prebate came in the same fashion. What are these people doing that precludes them from receiving the money via direct deposit? Who might not want to HAVE DD?

If you aren’t using direct deposit on your taxes, you’re afraid. For those afraid of identity theft, I hear your pain. In 2003, someone transferred almost $8000 out of my account to a bank in the Balkans, so I know there’s a risk. If you’re afraid for other reasons, I think it reflects opportunities for the government. In the aforementioned story, some money was diverted for people arrears in alimony or in taxes. Many other crimes can be caught this way.

Many people who file to get a prebate don’t deserve it, seeing as how they are breaking the law. Some people qualified for the prebate who had no income tax liability, but far more people are HIDING money from the government. If the government has been previously ignoring you, in some cases for years, because you report no income, they might take an interest in you now. I know lots of people get paid in cash, under the table, etc., and no matter how much I disagree with taxes, I pay them, even if Harry Reid thinks paying taxes is elective. If you don’t believe me, watch him say it here. We can therefore catch people who are trying to hide money who were so greedy they wanted $600-1200 more, at your expense.

The Prebate could also be used to help with illegal immigration. Where non-resident aliens file income taxes to take advantage of the rebate, they come out of the shadows. Many illegal aliens are not paid under their real social security numbers (since they can’t get them) and most don’t pay taxes at all, being paid under the table or in other illegal means. Compounding illegality with illegality…fascinating. Now, you elected officials, I adjure you to levy this information toward the protection of the nation and deport illegal aliens who identify themselves under this provision

Politicians could use this failed policy to redeem themselves in our eyes and show us that in America the law is king (DeToqueville). Or, maybe for their money/votes/fame they will allow the guilty to go free. If that’s their idea of freedom, I want no part. Thanks for the prebate anyhow.

My Judicial Review

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One of the first things I noticed when I got up this morning was that the Supreme Court finally did something right. This morning, they decided that we do have a right to what the Constitution says we have a right to- own a gun.

The problem with the ruling lies in the reactions to it. The Media bemoaned and bewailed how now people will tend to be more violent, when studies have clearly shown that more guns=less crime. Some people vowed to fight the findings, like the mayor of DC, who thinks we don't have a right to our rights. In celebration of the Court's earlier asinine rulings, the media essentially tells us that it’s okay to rape a kid, but pornography, that’s not okay. It's okay for criminals to own guns (although they don't obtain them through classical means), but if you have one in a home invasion, YOU are the criminal.

Americans need to get away from the mindset that our rights come from government. Years before the Constitution was written, another document long forgotten laid out in concise language how our Creator gives us rights, and that we establish government to PROTECT those rights. Most Americans I know, in particular those younger than I, take up an attitude as essentially submissive as a sheep and wait for rights to be thrown their way. Rather than view government as a benefactor, we need a healthy dose of circumspect, which leads us to worry that every time government meets they might be taken from us. Said Senator Paul Laxalt (R-NV), (Harry Reid's predecessor):

Every day congress is in session, you lose a little more of your liberty.

I fear how tenuous our liberties were today. By a vote of 5-4, one vote, we almost lost the Constitutional right to own a gun. These men are not elected, held office for life, and can erase in a moment years and years of work and effort by men trying to protect what we won in 1776- freedom. Clothed in the black robes of a false priesthood, this tyrannical minority of nine persons comes close to a monarchy, and operates under the same principles argued against by Thomas Paine in Common Sense. Go ahead- buy and read the book! These things are our rights, not because some men decide they are, but because they are given by God. They were our right before any of these men were born.

These judges seem remiss to admit that we live in a Federal system. Under that system, some states want things; other states don’t; if you don’t like the state rule, move. Instead, liberals move out of their enclaves into places they would never have gone without a gun, and find things not to their liking, no surprise. Instead of doing things the right way and appealing to reason and gentle persuasion, they appeal to the federal government for help implementing their own will…the federal government gladly reaches down and takes our freedom away. The other night, I was watching an episode of King of the Hill where Peggy's family speaks of how Hollywood types have moved to Montana and ruined their way of life.

The worst part of this is that it's veiwed as news. It should not be news that the Supreme Court upheld the 2nd Amendment- that's THEIR JOB. How do we reverse this tenuous tyranny of the majority? Mark Levin suggests using recess appointments, thereby showing liberals they can’t helter skelter hold a new constitutional Convention and take away rights not given us by government, but rather given by God.

Part of the Solution

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If you ask people today what their biggest concerns are in the world today, you hear some interesting answers. The answers are not interesting because of what they are; they are interesting because of what they are not. To hear Americans speak, it’s as if 9/11 or 1776 never happened. What I worry about most is what Americans are.

At the root of our situation is the fact that Americans are no longer the type of people that made this Enlightened Experiment possible in the first place. Lincoln bewailed our pride. Reagan bewailed our dependence on others for our happiness/well-being. Jefferson bewailed our morality. DeToqueville wrote about how America was possible because America and the people who lived here started on a clean slate with a commonality of purpose, dedicated to the same propositions of Divine Origin and Individual Worth, concepts completely foreign to the Old World. However, in the intervening 180 years since his work, we have tried by degrees to become more and more like that part of the globe from which we severed ourselves in 1776, a part of the world, says DeToqueville, which can never reach what we have because of what they are.

By and large, America remains a Christian nation in affirmation. In application, however, it’s a different story. My first ancestors in this nation put away work to go to church on Sunday without putting away Church to go to work on Monday. Nowadays, my neighbors dress in the garb of religion, pretending to morality, but they lack the principles that tend theretoward.

Not to say Americans are bad. I maintain that America is still by far the best, most righteous, most compassionate, and happiest land on the face of the earth. America is not, however, as righteous and happy as she has ever been. We have become a nation of actors, pretending to attitudes, behaviors, skills and practices that suffice in short term relationships without tending to the characters that make men great. Like the people of Spain in Cervantes’ novel, we laugh at the questing Don Quixotes among us who see things as they ought to be.

The good news is that Americans have not lost sight of how to make America the land she ought to be. Like the Pharisees, they go through the motions of obedience, but unlike the Pharisees, they do it, not because people force them to, but because by and large they force themselves. Americans still decide to be good. We are the most generous people on the planet, and no other Christian nation contains as many open adherents or as many people who observe regularly the acts of the offices of Christian living.

For America to resume her place as leader among men, she needs to stop looking to the past for examples on how to proceed. It has been said that insanity is doing the same thing twice and expecting different results, yet American courts, legislators, and activists point to Europe as the panacea of peace, where wars ravage and people savage, truly a poor exemplar for how to live a more excellent way. We have been conditioned to believe that it’s okay to descend to the lowest common denominator and by so doing become the recipients of actions rather than instigators.

My solution to fix American problems focuses on fixing American behaviors, attitudes, and notions. When founding the nation, our Founders wrote a national Constitution that defined principles and a proactive way of acting on those principles. Each individual needs to write his own personal constitution as a basis for making major, life-directing decisions, irrespective of conditions and emotions over which we have no control. That will empower us to take control of our own destiny and provide us strength and direction on stormy seas.

While America’s situation seems bleak, she has been far worse off. Although I didn’t live in the Depression or during the wartime rationing, I can still go buy whatever I want whenever I want wherever I care to purchase it. As such, I remain free from the reactionary reflex responses otherwise brought on by dismal stimuli today. I am free to choose my own destiny and live the way I want because yesterday I chose to live a life that binds me only to realistic expectations. I do not control twitterpations in the economy, but I control what I do when things happen, and so I remain the master of my destiny.

I am optimistic for the future. I feel that the current distress will right itself in time, so long as the government stays out of it. We got along fine in this country for 13 years, nine of which spent embroiled in war, before establishing the Federal Government. We can do it again, if we stay true to our principles and live as Americans ought to be- good and brave and true. I guarantee it.

Updated Briefs

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At the request of some readers, I have updated summaries of my beliefs under Briefs. There, now my blog is back to politics ;).

More may come later if I have free time, but I want you to pay particular attention to this:

We cannot conserve our way to greatness.

Remember my friends, for I pass this way but once.

Why Good Men Don't Run

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A few weeks ago, a friend of mine pointed out that I am old enough to have run for the 3rd NV Congressional District, but by that time the date had passed by which to declare a candidacy. Now, people who know me are excited at the prospect of maybe being able to vote FOR someone once in their lives, instead of voting AGAINST the lesser of two evils. Brief study of the current presidential debacle throws into sharp focus the propensity that precludes scores of young and qualified men from seeking political office for a myriad of reasons.

First and foremost, and the object of my critique, comes the Party influence. I have never been a fan of parties. I never attended any in college, and I do not intend to cowtow to them now. That, however, is precisely my largest problem in gaining a nomination and ultimately a seat. Politics, like so much else in society, seems to be the stuff of popularity, where people advance less dependent on what they know than on whom they know. When a person gains support of a party, he ascribes his allegiance to the party's principles, irrespective of his own personal convictions in order to stay in office. If you sway from the party line, like John Ensign (R-NV) did under Newt Gingrich's House leadership, the party itself will drive you out.

No less oblige on the matter, the types of persons who ascend to office are typically more of the same, and I am not among that cartel. Most politicians, schooled in the ways of lawyers and the artifice of law, come from the legal profession, which accurately enough prepares them to word arguments and understand statutes as presently constituted but QUALIFIES THEM FOR LITTLE ELSE. Notwithstanding, to hear our legislators speak, they claim expertise on every aspect of society, even though they largely lack credentials to speak on any of the matters they take up as a matter of discussion, claiming themselves able to run every aspect of our lives with zero experience better than men who have spent 20-30 years at the helm of such industries. John Adams wrote during his time in the Continental Congress: “I fear that in every assembly, members will obtain an influence by noise not sense. By meanness, not greatness. By ignorance, not learning. By contracted hearts, not large souls”. Blathering blather scythes, who have no greater credentials than a long history in Congress, outshout all contenders, badger them into the ground. Remember the plight of Mr. Smith Goes to Washington, how his own colleague by tirade almost beat down a good man.

The other problem with ensconced traditions of expertise comes in the form of a litmus test. If you don't have years of experience in lower levels of government or in law, you're immediately unqualified for a Senate seat, other experience notwithstanding. Last year I applied for a job with the NV highway patrol and made it through all the hoops up to and including the interview, which, although I ostensibly passed, did not recommend me as a strong candidate. The sergeant who made most of the argument in the negative made much ado about the fact that, although I hold an advanced degree in Biochemistry (an arguably difficult and arduous field of study), I had never taken a course in Criminal Justice. In his mind, the title of the degree, regardless of my character, experience and potential, meant everything, as if having a CJ degree makes one more likely to succeed and of greater utility than any other qualification. My father could not understand his prejudice, my father having been a combat veteran of the USAF who flew with pilots who held college degrees in things skew to the Air Force's mission like Forestry, Communications, and Art History. In our congress since I started voting, we have had a gynecologist (Ron Paul), a retired astronaut (John Glenn), a veterinarian (John Ensign), a hollywood actor (Fred Thompson) and others. Who says you have to be a lawyer to be a good legislator? Besides, those who are lawyers and served at lower levels of government have spent their lives interfering in our lives and never produced anything of value to us.

Lest we forget, generally and genuinely good men refuse to run for office for fear of having any skeletons, regardless of their size or age, exposed to the public. Bill Frist, Trent Lott, George Allen, and others fell under the "scandal" axe, notwithstanding greater scandals in the other party like William Jefferson, William Clinton, Christopher Dodd, Harry Reid, and others, still under investigation though not basted by the media. Everyone has done things they regret, and good men fear that their opposition will make mountains out of molehills and shoot their butterflies with rifles. So how do I choose to deal with it? I turn to Shakespeare in answer:

It is a tale, told by an idiot, full of sound and fury signifying nothing.

A friend of mine said, when I visited him a few weeks ago, that if my exertions to live by my moral code do not warrant mercy, nobody does.

One final hurdle of which to make mention is as CS Lewis calls it, the trend to make men without chests. By making a mockery of traditional patriotism and chivalry, those who are themselves evil and cowardly and selfish draw attention from the beam in their eye to the mote that may be in mine. Wrote James Warren to John Adams, the "love of country supplanted by a love of luxury"…the current “avidity for pleasure” and money…was all that mattered anymore. “Patriotism is ridiculed. Integrity and ability are of little consequence”. What matters is money and a good name, a historical legacy, that if you are not among the MyFaves of Congress, you cannot on merit win a seat in a fair fight.

The good old boy network at work in Congress dissuades men from running for office. Instead, many of them look for other ways to make a real difference, and for that I am glad. For all of you who opt instead to serve in arms, I salute you. Many good Americans envy you the opportunity you have to serve in the military. There is nothing we can do to fully repay you, and that is indeed unfortunate.

Right Things for the Right Reasons

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Having lately considered the topic of judgment, I feel inspired to address another aspect thereof. Of late, many of the people I know have told me of noble pursuits to which they devoted themselves for a period of years in lieu of other equally noble options that leave me wondering why. I suppose the true issue to which I ought pay attention is that they chose a noble path.

All of the individuals of which I can currently think chose noble paths. One enters USMC boot camp today. Another will depart in a few weeks to serve as a missionary in a foreign land. One chose to limit herself to a 500 calorie/day diet as a means to combat years of wanton weight gain. Serving God, country, and health are all noble goals. I do not think in their circumstances I would have made those choices, but I know I am not in their circumstances, so honestly I cannot say what I can do. All I can say is why I would not do that thing at this time.

On the other hand, I know people who chose to do those exact same things for the wrong reasons- mostly as a means to run away from reality or from the person/situation in which they find themselves. When the choice is between bad and good, it’s clearly obvious that one ought choose the good, but when the choice is between good, better, and best, what do we miss out on?

Scriptures tell us that a man giving a gift grudgingly is treated by God as if he retained the gift. I know that when I served as a missionary that these particular devotees bothered me the most, because I felt they “got in the way” of those of us who really cared. Ironically, they are all doing better than I am in most aspects of life, especially in those most easily quantified, and so it would seem that mine is the faulty logic. I am he who is bereft of wife and children, only just last year in a job that wasn’t dead end, and he who is least happy among his peers.

I made the choices I made in life in order to be square with God. For the most part, I made many choices a matter of prayer and fasting while I weighed out options and measured the expected outcomes. I defer on the side of obedience to the law, even when I prefer to do otherwise, and I trust in God to save me both from myself and from things that will be to my detriment. Not everything has turned out like I expected it to, and it would seem in many instances that justice has been denied me, but I trust as always that “what should be will be when the time is right” for my having done the best I can to do right things for the right reasons.

For everyone else, as I mentioned yesterday, it’s neither mine to discern nor in my power to grant them according to the purity of their motives. As CS Lewis says, you cannot long endure the practice of right without gradually becoming the way you pretend to be. So, while I begrudge the choices of others that put upon me inconveniences in the moment they chose to do something good against their will, things generally worked out for the best for everyone. Eventually, practice of righteous principles really does make perfect even if you didn’t start out that way.

Reply to Criticism

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A friend of mine and reader of this blog remarked to me that this blog seems “devoted to severe criticism of your fellow men”. To this friend, I say as Cervantes’ Don Quixote, “My eyes did not create the world. They merely see it”.

People who know me well know I am extremely critical. This extends primarily to myself in the first instance, as I regularly denigrate my value or contribution. When I left my friend in PA last week, he reported to me that he considered me a great friend and cried when I left. Although I don’t consider myself that good of a friend, I know very few people who are trying to always be on their best behavior as I am.

Choosing to become a Man of La Mancha has been one of the most pivotal and important choices of my life. However, it also seems to be my greatest bane even as I feel it to be a boon. A quest for the impossible dream is doomed to disappointment. I will find no castles, only inns, no golden helms, only shaving basins. Sometimes I wish upon myself the type of insanity necessary to only see the world as Don Quixote, even as I am berated for my insane notions to make the world a better place. Said he, “Sanity may be madness but the maddest of all is to see life as it is and not as it should be.”

I see people as they are and bewail what they ought to be. Now, perhaps that is an unfair position, but it has never been my philosophy to allow people to descend to the lowest common denominator. I know from personal experience that they can be anything they want if they want to. I ask no man to live my mantra and make chivalry his creed; I merely ask them to be the best they can, and more often than not they do not seem to even try.

That being said, I will admit I know nothing of their circumstances by and large. Perhaps the man who cuts me off in traffic has a major wound he needs care for at the hospital. Perhaps the man who wired money to the Baltic really needs it more than I to survive. Perhaps the people I meet were abused by their parents, ignored by their peers, and denigrated by their children. I do not know the weight of their trials. Although I believe God allows nothing to befall people that they cannot bear, I do not know the scope or duration of their trials and cannot therefore say I could do any better in their unique situation.

I swore an oath many years ago: “On my honor, I will do my best”. That I promise, and I will try to be less judgmental of those who, for them, do likewise.

Leave Me Breathless

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While on vacation in PA, I caught wind of the naked bike riders protesting oil dependency. One of the participants, ostensibly the spokesnude, said they were doing it to reduce greenhouse emissions since biking reduces CO2 emissions. I sat back in my chair, pondering. Then I realized this man doesn’t have a clue.

When you exercise, your basal metabolic rate rises, meaning that a person riding a bike produces more CO2 than someone who walks the same distance. If they were truly about fixing things, they’d do better research and come prepared. Never go in against a scientist when respiration is on the line!

Codicil

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One of the bad habits I have I'm working on is the use of codicil qualifiers in my speech. Much as I feel loath to admit it, I owe my last relationship a debt of gratitude for pointing it out. Of course, now it really bothers me when other people do it, to the point where I grind my teeth when I hear that word, "but".

First let me illustrate how this word works against both speaker and hearer.

We'll turn to neutral ground for the example. About a year ago when my car broke down outside Virginia City, this tow truck driver showed up obviously put out that the call was going to make him late for dinner. My car was in a place that admittedly made it difficult for him to get to me, and I really think he wanted to write me off as immoveable. So, when he arrived, he said something along these lines, "I'd like to get you out, but..." That qualifier carries all the weight of the sentence.

Using the codicil qualifier negates the phrase immediately preceding it. It means he has no intention or desire to help me. Now, there are people who use this word without it meaning that, but in far too many communiques I find this trend proves true. Notable exceptions might include things like when my mom says, "I love you Doug, but you need to be more responsible." When girls I try to date however use that phrase it usually doesn't. "You're a nice guy Doug, but..." Gah, it drives me bonkers.

In our speech, I suggest for the happiness of all that we unlearn this phraseology. It carries a connotation that sets people against one another. There are better ways to phrase things. Here's an example I worked on yesterday in my head:

Wrong:
You're a nice guy Doug, but I'm not looking for a relationship right now.

Better:
Recognizing that you have many good qualities Doug, you're not someone with whom I can see myself in a relationship.

Both may seem equally harsh. The second is honest and clear. The former is an insult in the garb of a compliment. Don't try not to hurt my feelings. Tell me what's on your mind. Like Han Solo told Luke in the Death Star, "I prefer a straight fight to all this sneaking around." Pussyfooting around the subject doesn't help anyone. For my own part, I prefer to know where I stand.

Season of Gratitude

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In the past week, I've had two occasions to be very grateful for the disposition of providence in my regard. Now, this may strike people who know me as odd, because I'm often critical and sour about certain events in my life that I believe ought to have resolved themselves with a greater degree of grace. However bleak my situation may seem to me and how I may not come into my own as I like, I realized this week that I ought be more grateful for things as yet not forced upon me. Back in 1991 when my father went to war in Iraq, I remember Secretary of Defense Richard "Dick" Cheney saying "It is easy to take your liberty for granted when it has never been taken from you". From time to time, I need these reminders of how blessed I really am.

Earlier this week, my best friend from high school notified me that his father, 54 years old, had passed away suddenly. Now, I didn't know them as well as many others, being that I grew up military and quickly ended up somewhere else, but my father is 53, and I considered the ramifications of losing my own father, now or at any other time in my life. During the war in 1991, I remember being terrified at the prospect. My current best friend lost his father when he was nine years old, and although Thom has overcome that eventuality with panash, he truly was robbed of some fundamentally useful eventualities with which providence found fit to grant me. Life would be profoundly different if I lost my father.

Last Friday I went to the Muetter Museum, located in the College of Surgeons in Philadelphia. This contains the most macabre and grotesque display of human deformity and malady I've ever seen, and I was glad I abstained from breakfast. I came away from the experience with three observations:

1. I'm glad I didn't go to medical school
2. I'm glad I've never had any of those problems
3. I'm glad we live now with "advanced" medical techniques.

Had I chosen to attend medical school, the course curriculum would have required a lengthly expenditure of time studying these types of images to properly discern. Even now as I write, my stomach turns in remembrance. Modern sanitation and medical preventative treatment largely mitigate the marginal propensity of anyone catching any of these diseases, and while the examples on display are grossly exaggerated at times, I cannot imagine suffering some things people used to. I've never been more grateful for the chance to shower regularly.

Much as I denigrate the medical profession and the ne'er-do-wells who aspired thereto when I taught them as a graduate student, I'm glad we've moved beyond the medievalisms that permeated the medical profession in days of yore. The words of Dr. McCoy from Star Trek IV reverberated in my head as I viewed the Muetter displays, and I couldn't believe the implements and practices saved lives. Even when doctors don't really have a clue what we have, our standard of care, even in the worst hospitals on the planet are better today than the best hospitals in 1700 or even 1800 AD. I am profoundly grateful for the advances in scientific medicine, diagnosis and treatment.

In conclusion, I have my health, and it's very good, and I have my family, which by comparison is also stellar. This frees me to focus my exertions on exigent matters without abrogating my ability to affect my own chances for excellence- forging my own relationships, managing my finances, and pursuing vocational/recreational goals. One hundred years ago, my ancestors spent 99% of their time vested in eking out a subsistence, in survival, and now I'm free to pursue other venues of effort. I live a life of ignoble ease. I live in America.

Quakers- More Than Oats

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One of the great privileges of my trip to Philadelphia, I took away much from the opportunity to attend a Friends Meeting, which is what the Quakers call their Sunday services. During the preceding days, many of the Quaker ideals struck me of particular interest, and I turned to my friend who lives there and remarked that of all the groups of which America is composed, I empathize with them the most.

When William Penn founded Pennsylvania as a colony, he took great pains to transpose upon it the ideals of the Quaker society to which he belonged. Aside from the obvious moral code of ethics, he made many practical improvements on society and law that make Pennsylvania today a bastion against the encroachments of civilization. Any man who walks through the streets mapped out by the planners passes from the hustle and bustle of the modern world into the tranquil shades of the past, under trees which once watched Quakers gather at the foot of their trunks.

Without a Quaker sensibility, America would be a different place. The Quakers lived a simplistic life without denying themselves of things that they wanted. A visit to Penn’s only home in the New World shows his concern for practicality and self-reliance but also a desire to make for himself and his family the life they deserved, despite being on the cusp of the wilderness. Quakers focused on things of true import- knowledge meant to elevate them and society, not simply for the sake of knowledge. They knew how to do a lot of things that seem largely lost to society yet built with surprising forethought about what might be. What Philadelphia lacks in convenience, it makes up for in charm. Penn’s Woods is truly a splendor.

From the Quakers we draw our moral strength. From their leaders we take many of our first laws. From their candor we become Friends, a land full of Freemen, Americans all, regardless of our origin or avarice. I appreciate their simplicity and morality.

Seize your opportunities.

Revisionist History

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As part of my trip to Philadelphia this weekend, I made sure to visit Independence Hall. While I enjoyed the opportunity to see the building in which so much of our fundamental history took place, one thing left a bad taste in my mouth, and it wasn’t the cheese steak. It was the tour guide.

Being myself no stranger to American history and having recently read about the events in preparation for my visit, I stood aghast at inaccuracies in her presentation. Here’s the actual timeline of events:

2 July 1776: Congress votes to adopt the revision of Jefferson’s Declaration of Independence

4 July 1776: John Hancock and Charles Thompson affix their signatures to the document

2 August 1776: Most of the rest of the signatories sign the document

What did the tour guide say?

She says they voted on July 4^th to adopt the document but that nobody signed it until August. Has she ever heard of Google? Even the Wikipedia article does a better job at getting it right, and she was an official of the National Park Service.

What really irked me about it is that I applied for a vacancy here about a year ago but was turned down, ostensibly for my lack of knowledge. I’m sure they provide the guides with something to prepare them in guiding tours. Obviously this woman never bothered to read it, and all the people in our tour group (circa 50) went away befuddled as I or believing something inaccurate. For shame. Even I could do better than that.

Note: some of the congressional delegates never did sign the declaration. I wonder if they wish they had. The following image is proprietary:

Are Pennsylvania Women Cuter?

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After my foray through the streets of Philadelphia on Friday, my friend asked me how I liked the city. I told him that there seemed to be a greater number of cute women in PA than in NV. He, wisely, laughed.

Fact of the matter is that I’ve only been to Philadelphia once in my life, and I’ve only been to Pennsylvania twice since the age of 15. The girls here, like anytime you go some place you’ve never been before, are “new and exciting”. This phenomenon accounts for why women of foreign ancestry or mixed racial heritage seem so appealing- they are exotic.

Evidence for the matter came as I stood in line at security while waiting to leave. Right in front of me stood a series of 20-30 high school girls headed for Mexico with their Spanish club. As I listened to them speak, I realized that PA has more than its share of the silly superfluous sychophancy which frustrates me with the girls in that age range from which I have to select.

Gates of Prayer

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While looking through a list of books someone recommends I read, I came across one that ostensibly deals with the concept of why bad things happen to good people. Having been through and still in a phase of life where I feel like that, I feel no pressing need to read someone else’s rendition of belief, but it made me think a little more about the Job Phase of Mortality.

For most people, when the going gets rough, they quit. To be quite honest, this morning I really really wanted to NOT run. However, having gained three pounds on my camping trip to the Tetons last week, I knew I had no choice but to countermand that trend by keeping to my standards. In the end, if I don’t get what I want, it will not be because I did not do my part.

So, when the going gets rough, what do I do? I pray a lot. Sometimes I shake my fist in the air and ask God like in Fiddler on the Roof to go bless someone else for a while. After a long train of difficulties, most people prefer a period of respite rather than simply a continuity of blessings in the form of trials. If you’re not sure where the current suffering is going, perhaps, you’ve entered the Job Phase.

After being beset by trials, Job turned to prayer. Noticeably absent, however, are answers to those prayers. Now, I do not presume to know why God may choose to shut the gates of prayer when one approaches, but I have a theory. There comes a point when you have to learn to stand on your own.

It took my father a long time to teach me the basic coming of age traditions of boyhood. In particular, I found it difficult to ride a bike, and I used training wheels far past the period of prudence, until I came to rely on them. My father rightfully knew how continuity of the status quo would make me fit scorn for my fellows and pushed to remove them, running alongside to help keep me up. At least until one day, when he, like CS Lewis writes God must, “withdraw all the supports and incentives [and] leave the creature to stand up on its own legs—to carry out from the will alone duties which have lost all relish.”

One of my favorite short films illustrates the force of will. A man takes a shortcut across the desert in unfamiliar territory. After his car breaks down, he treks across the dunes looking for anything and comes across a pump in a dilapidated ghost town. Despite his efforts, the pump doesn’t start, and he plops down frustrated. At that time, he notices a note in the cup swinging beneath the spigot and reads it. IN the note, it tells of a bottle of water hidden beneath a rock and how anyone just needs to prime the pump and it will give plenty of water. The man ignores the note, taking the water and treks back into the desert. As he collapses and drops the bottle, the camera shows a drop of water building at the faucet he left behind.

Putting down our will as subservient to the will of the father is the true test of mortality. At the time of greatest need, even the Savior found the Gates of Prayer shut to him, to make it possible for him to demonstrate that his will was swallowed up in that of the father. Of the importance of the Job Phase, CS Lewis continues:

It is during such trough periods, much more than during the peak periods, that it is growing into the sort of creature He [God] wants it to be…. Our cause is never more in danger than when a human, no longer desiring, but still intending, to do our Enemy's [God's] will, looks round upon a universe from which every trace of Him seems to have vanished, and asks why he has been forsaken, and still obeys.

When the Gates of Prayer close to you, how will you respond? Your salvation depends on your answer.
This image is proprietary.

Damage Done

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In a town far away many years ago, there lived a young boy who was destined for greatness except for one small problem. One day, the boy went to his father for help dealing with his character deficit. He told his father of how he wanted to limit and eventually eliminate his anger, and his father brought him a pail of nails and a hammer. The father told his son that, whenever he felt the urge to be angry, he should go outside and hammer a few nails into the fence until he felt in control.

As days went by, the boy made regular trips to the fence where he hammered nails in, sometimes five and sometimes as few as one. Gradually, he reduced the frequency of his sorties as well as the number of nails consumed per sortie until he no longer felt the need to go outside and hammer in nails. When he asked his father what he should do, his father said that whenever he felt in control to go out and remove a nail from the fence. More time passed, and soon the boy had removed all the nails from the fence.

Something didn’t sit well with him, and he went to his father again. He asked what could be done to fix the fence, now made unsightly by the frequency of nail holes. The father wisely replied, “There is nothing you can do. The damage is done.”

For a fence, it makes no nevermind if we hammer a few extra nails in or hammer in nails where they don’t belong. When it comes to other people, since we can’t go back to the way things were, the damage remains. However we may attempt to smooth things over, an act once perpetrated may be abrogated but never undone. However, you can never be hurt by things you don’t do.

Supported? Hardly

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Yesterday morning as I arrived at work, I noticed something peculiar. Just outside the parking lot, we drive through a school zone where policemen are known to be vigilant in their patrols. The car in the left lane entered the school zone without slowing at all, and as he passed I noticed a bumper sticker on his car that said “Back the Badge”. I huffed a scoffing hrumph as he sped away and wondered to myself how that could possibly be true while I watched him in the midst of breaking a law.

Earlier in my life, I performed a scientific experiment to gauge the degree to which people were likely to keep the law, and I’m sure each of you can testify to instances where drivers around you obeyed the speed limit because a policeman was in proximity. On the occasion of this test, I secreted myself in a bush at a stop sign that was often violated and counted the ratio at which people actually stopped at the sign. After that, I had my kid sister (then 9 years old) sit on her bike at the corner. The frequency of stoppage increased. After that, I sat at the corner in a shirt and tie with my clipboard. Stoppage broke 95%.

One Sunday in Florida years ago, my parents commented at the sparse attendance at the start of our church meeting. As people trickled in late, we learned that the police had held a sting at the stop sign a few blocks away and had cited perhaps a dozen vehicles for violating it. I have never forgotten that, and I have tried to always obey the law whenever I can and regardless of whether people around me choose to do so.

Much ado has been made in the last few years over politicians who claim to “support the troops but not the war”. Seeing as how the business of soldiers is to make war, that kind of statement constitutes a great farce of contradiction. If you don’t support what they do, how can you possibly support them?

On Trees

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My sister asked me a random question along this subject: "What would it be like to be a tree?" As I drove across Wyoming and looked at the scraggly stumps that pass for trees, I came up with a few topics that give me pause to reflect and respect trees.



Trees withstand loneliness and solitude. In some of the most inhospitable conditions, trees manage to eek out a living, growing larger year after year and betimes even reproducing. Many trees grow in places they shouldn't, like one growing in a tributary river near Jenny Lake in the Tetons that had grown in the middle of the river, wrapped around a large boulder. Sometimes they seem to defy gravity, erosion, and the weather. They stand in the middle of nowhere, while winds whip around them, still pointed largely upward due to geotrophism. Trees stand strong. Years ago, I heard this excerpt from a poem: Good timber does not grow in ease/ The stronger the gale the tougher the trees.

From that image, I move to how trees demonstrate fortitude and a stalwart nature. When the going gets tough for people, we pack up and move. Trees like all plants must face their troubles. Sometimes, when we take a stand against powerful forces of opposition, we stand alone like trees, but if we stay straight against those winds of opposition, others marvel at our steadfast resistance. Trees don't give up easily. Neither should we.

Finally, trees come with a promise of fruit, of expanse, of the good things in life that come from staying true to our nature. It is the business of all living things to multiply and replenish themselves, passing on what is good in them and providing good forage for other life forms around us who can taste of our fruits and be nourished thereby. How welcome a sight might have been an apple tree, however bedraggled it may have appeared, to the weary pioneers coming across the Oregon Trail!

If I were a tree, I'd hope to be of the type I saw on the plains of Wyoming- tried and true.

Go West Young Man

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Although I've crisscrossed the nation several times, this was the first time I followed in earnest the route taken by pioneers across the Continental Divide. Some symbols struck me on the crossing that particularly deserve commentary.

When pioneers struck out for the plains, they were allotted a very small amount of personal property to take along so as not to bind up the progress of wagons. Today we cross the distance by car in as little as a day, but it took four to five months for them to do so on foot with wagons. People were allowed as little as 17 pounds of personal property, and so at the point of departure, there were immense piles of abandoned property. In some way, I envy their being able to put their problems behind them and get rid of deadweight. There is so much pressure of encumbering possessions- that everyone needs a new car every few years, an iPod/iPhone, a flatscreen TV, and the latest and greatest gadgetry. The pioneers took what they needed, and I believe that helped them be happier.

As we drove across Wyoming, the constancy of the wind really struck me. Walking into the wind, driving against it, watching the clouds driven by it, it struck me about the potential for increased strength occasioned by walking into a stiff wind. Americans enjoy a strength of character, will and spirit comparable to none because of the scope and range of challenges that combine to hedge up our way. By and large, we simply press on like our pioneer forefathers of old, growing stronger as we push and pull our way to the "West" uphill against opposition. That opposition makes us strong.

Make Time

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Going to Wyoming this last week was good for me in so many ways. I got away from constant attentiveness to fiscal and political news and didn’t miss it one bit. Although I took my phone, nobody called, and only two emails in my inbox were really pressing and important. I noticed when I came back however a difference in my thought process as to priorities, which I wish to discuss.

Now that I’m suddenly a factor of some degree in the lives of people I know, I sense almost a reticence on their part to return that slice of their attention I previously occupied to me. Some of them admit it, having already made apology, but few looked forward to my return. It showed me how few friends I really have and made me glad of the opportunity to have spent time with family.

Since I’ve also been embroiled in conversations regarding relationships and read Dr. Laura’s book, I think about the role of prioritization from that point of view too. I read Cheaper By the Dozen as well this week, and the basic premise of that story is how the parents prioritize their careers and other activities over their families. Since I know so many people whose parents did that, whether inadvertent or blatant, it gave me reason to pause.

People make time for things that are important. I really wanted to go on a trip Fri-Sat to see a Dodger’s game in LA, not because I like the Dodgers, but because it’s on my Bucket List. Instead, I visited an uncle in the hospital who caught Staph and spent time with my sister, not that my friends or the associations that might be forged thereby weren’t important but because family comes first. Over the past month, several people in my locale came aware of the fact that I rise early to exercise and expressed an interest in accompanying me. Only one of them has ever availed themselves of my company, and that person has been sporadic. Not that I blame people; it’s hard to get up at 6AM and exercise (remember I arise at 5AM to read Scriptures before I exercise). I know that by the time I get home from work, I won’t want to do anything, so to do the things that are important (spiritual and physical health), I made decisions to make time for those things. Since time is limited, we do things that are best for us.

Herein lies the relationship codicil. I think so many problems in relationships arise because the relationships take a back seat to other things and people use the relationship as a rationale for those decisions, even if they do more harm than good. Like in Cheaper By the Dozen, the dad claims he took the job he always wanted to make a better life for his family, but he focuses on the job so much that his family suffers.

The order of operations in our day makes no sense either. In frontier times, my ancestors spent all day working with their families. They spent time when they were rested and in good spirits around those that they loved, in a spirit of community, then they went out in the evening to unwind with strangers at the barn dance, the bar, or a community roast. Nowadays, we go work all day with strangers and unwind on our families. Our coworkers benefit from our better mood earlier in the day, and we arrive home and dump on our families, knowing they will love us anyway. Our families get the short end of our short tempers and spend time with us only after we are physically, intellectually, and psychologically exhausted.

I envy in so many ways the pioneers who crossed the plains. I spent some real time as an adult walking in their footsteps this last week. They had a simpler time- not driven by the pursuit of wealth and power. Much as we may mock the 223 residents of Chugwater, WY, for their meager existence, I think I know why people love Wyoming so much. I long for the day when I can enjoy that existence they’ve known all along.

PS. I have nothing against Chugwater. Until this week, I didn’t even know it existed.

Old Gives Way to New

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Wyoming is a place that still holds fast against the encroachment of the modern world. Beyond their cityscapes, it seems the people take on a resistance in the shadow of the Great Tetons and buttressed by the wild and mighty Snake River to anything that might disturb their peace and tranquility. I think that’s why it impressed me so much. I felt at home there. The things that I feel are important are still important in Wyoming, and I didn’t feel alone despite being separated by miles of prairie or yards of rock and timber from the nearest living soul.

Despite my expressed desire to be left in peace, I do not want to live entirely alone. Grudgingly, I have returned to the dating meat market and found it much more difficult than it used to be, for many reasons. I live in a section of the Vegas valley populated largely by Legacy families, who have lived here for generations. The kids all attended the same schools, and the parents even grew up together, and I constitute one of the unwashed outsiders. Plus, I work 23 miles from my domicile, as opposed to the majority of my neighborhood peers, further isolating me in terms of associations. I face geographical and familial barriers when I go up against others my age on the hunt for companionship.

My other major hurdle is my own policy of Friendship First. First off, it gives competitors myriad opportunity of unknown duration to beat me to the punch and garner favor with the would-be targets of my affectations. Secondly, I run the risk that the girls I like will find someone to whom they are attracted whom they will seek to get to know rather than letting me grow on them. Either way, time is not on my side in a society that still encourages marriage to the “wife of youth”.

Basically, the prevailing mindset of friendship first seems lost in the heat of an emotional moment. Having been there myself, I cannot fault my peers, and I still maintain that friendship first is the best policy. Whatever happened to courting? As I’ve mentioned before, men primarily focus on “sealing the deal” and moving into a committed and exclusive relationship (even if they’re carrying on such relationships with several different women concurrently), and so a single date seems tantamount to a betrothal.

I simply cannot compete with certain categories of men. While I try to build a relationship of trust, if they manage to skip to the chase, all my efforts are wasted. Time to rethink my plan? No. Back when I went on my mission, there went about the saying that “your girlfriend won’t wait, but your wife will.” I have every confidence that I will find the person I need in time, however flawed my system may seem in the moment.

Chuckwagon Culture

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One of our family Jackson Hole/Teton traditions has been to visit the Bar-J Wrangler Chuckwagon dinner. As I sat listening to the music after the meal concluded and having read a significant portion of DeTocqueville's "Democracy in America" I realized suddenly where the strength of America truly lies. Under that awning, people from states we've never visited come together to share in the legacy of the American west, having put away any rivalries and competitions for an evening of fun, food and frolic.

In the days of the Old West, the cowboys would gather at the end of the day around the Chuckwagon. Here, they would brag of the day, of past cattle drives, play music, and enjoy a community of brotherhood born of their common employ regardless of their past. DeTocqueville talked about how America benefits from a wilderness in that it brings people together for survival, even when we are at peace. That cowboy spirit of togetherness binds Americans together, such that when you pick on one of us it's tantamount to picking a fight with every one of us.

Now, from time to time overseas, I feel embarrassed at the behavior and demeanor of my countrymen, but when we converse, we are friends for no other reason than our common citizenry. Strangers at first, we, like in all our common provocations, come together for a common cause. I've had Americans offer to buy me a meal in Europe for no other reason than the chance to converse with a "friend" abroad.

Unlike any other country, America was born for freedom. The chuckwagon culture of the west embodies that concept of freedom- on the range, unbounded, unchecked. Everyone who lived a cowboy's life chose it; they did it because they loved it. Americans believe in the things they do. I appreciate this small glimpse into yesteryear and wish I could truly understand and empathize with that way of life, not because I want to hug trees or go back to nature, but because I envy that band of brothers.

The strength of America lies not in its bristling seacoasts but around the hearth and campfire.

Americans Lack Classes

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Despite my altruistic aims at helping inculcate my sister into the society of her peers, I realized this week that my presence at social functions and such may prove more of a detriment than an asset. She and I share many similarities, but I have always felt her destined for a better society of confluence than myself, and by being affiliated with me, I cannot help but worry that she will be denied the companionship of those with whom she rightly belongs by being affiliated with a throwback of a bygone age such as myself.

Americans lack class, having dispensed largely with the concept and largess of aristocratic affiliation with which most of the civilized world remains beset. As such, we seem ignorant of our place when conversing with strangers, each of us believing himself to be the equal of his neighbor by virtue of our plenipotentiary society. However, among the American people, we divest into cliques of varied nature. I find myself by chance sadly among the lowest echelons of American society, not for lack of intellect, wealth, or good breeding, but by virtue of the things with which I choose to occupy my time.

One grouse Europe levies against America is that we lack culture. Most Americans truly do not look to philosophy or classical literature in their free time, preferring instead to buy beer and hunker down around some gladiator event or a camp fire. When I spoke last eve with a friend about my "summer reading list", he remarked that it consisted of things "85% of folks would never ever consider reading", ranging from DeTocqueville to Marcus Aurelius. My fascination for these subjects automatically makes me an outsider in my own country because most Americans prefer not to discuss that sort of thing.

People who therefore freely associate with me are most accurately described as the outcasts of American pop culture. Having nowhere else to go, we converge together and belong to that group of outcasts, not unlike the Land of Misfit Toys... The well-endowed among us, whether fiscally, aesthetically, or fashionably, eschew the outcasts and any who may be found in our company for a myriad of shallow reasons at which I shall make no attempt of explanation. This phenomenon is as old as time.

One of the themes of Pride and Prejudice is (gasp) prejudice. The gentry in whose company Mr. Darcy finds himself disprove vehemently of any and all association with the Bennett family, especially after the youngest sister elopes with Wickham. Mrs. Bennett is one of the most classless people I've ever heard, without tact and reserve in any situation, and although Mr. Bennett is himself some sort of aristocrat, fiscal restraints on his home relegate him to an undesirable peerage and denigrated role in the echelons of England. This particular theme of the novel deals with the differences between the Haves and Have-nots.

Ironically, I have much more than some of the pretentious busybodies from whom I shy and to whom I would shuffle my sister. Unlike them, I am debt free with $25000 in assets, a full-time job in my career field, and a myriad of skills that tend toward my putative self-sufficiency. I am also done with college. I have already bought and sold a home, bought and sold several cars, traveled to Europe twice, and written and published a book (details forthcoming). How many of those in my age bracket can lay claim to that curriculum vitae? I am well spoken, well read, and interested in becoming more so with age instead of this pish-posh about Xbox and Playstation.

Yet, this makes me abnormal.

I make no nevermind about fitting in. I am comfortable with myself. I worry only about judgment by association for those who may appreciate me but may not want to be counted among my entourage of dork henchmen while they still have a chance to be someone in their own right and ascend the ranks of what passes for American peerage.

It Need Not Be

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I read several books this week while crisscrossing Wyoming, and one particular part thereof particularly commands my frustration and concentration.

I read The Whistling Season on the recommendation of a friend whose opinion I really value, but ever since I read a particular line from the book it has bothered me.

You and Rose--
--have done what a man and a woman do. That's so. Nights are long here...

Doig writes this as if it's a forgone conclusion that every single man and every single woman will simply gratify the lusts of the flesh. I have spent most of my life trying to disprove that notion.

I am attracted to women. I happen to enjoy what Doig references in this passage. However, we are not all animals, and we need not be.

This particular passage has obfuscated every other notion I might have retained from the book. It has consumed my thoughts and embroiled my frustrations. I refuse to accept the premise, and I adjure you to do in kind.

Vacation

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I shall be on vacation until Wednesday, and therefore, I beg my leave of you for a time.