Speed Kills (But Not Always)

This week marked the one year anniversary of the Deepwater Horizon Disaster (Drill, Baby, Drill! The Blowout Preventer isn't working? Drill anyway!).

Americans vowed that we have learned our lesson. We must wean ourselves from our addiction to oil. On the other hand, what use is all that Gulf seafood if we can't fuel up our SUVs to go and buy it? Also, there must be beaches not soaked in oil somewhere. Let's fly to the Cote d'Azur. There are naked people there!

So one year after the biggest oil spill in US history, we are still gulping down that $4 per gallon gas. As a result, Exxon Mobil had nearly $11 billion in quarterly profits and all those Middle East dictators have plenty of money to buy weapons and to hire mercenaries to repress their populace.

Surely, the fine folks of Louisiana who took the brunt of the Deepwater Disaster have seen the light. Or maybe not. The Louisiana Department of Transportation raised the speed limit on portions of I-49 from 70 to 75 mph. The affected Interstate is in Evangeline and St Landry Parishes not 50 miles from the Gulf Coast. The tar balls are gone and it's time to par-tay!

DOT engineers conducted a traffic study and determined that 85% of travellers on I-49 were already speeding along at 75 mph or more. Since speed limits set lower than the 85th percentile of actual traffic can cause crashes (The little old lady motoring along at 45 mph in the passing lane is quite the hazard), DOT had no choice. Exxon Mobil and the Saudi royal family have a bright future.

The Chinese characters for disaster and opportunity are nearly identical. The Deepwater Disaster and Louisiana DOT's action create an opportunity for all of us. I plan to speed along Route 22 at 80 mph every chance I get. If everyone else does the same, we will get a nice gas-guzzling speed limit. If we also invest in Exxon stock, we will have enough money to pay for the additional fuel that we burn. It's a win-win.

Tips for Time Travellers

Yesterday's newspaper reported that Vorhees High softball defeated Warren Hills High when Kaylee Teets scored the winning run on a hit by Cailey Ihling.

When their coach yells "Kaylee", do both girls respond? To avoid confusion, does Coach yell "Kaylee with a K" or "Cailey with a C"? Are there Kayleighs or Caleighs on the Vorhees squad? Must Coach expand to "Caleigh with a C and an eigh"?

Thirty years ago, every other high school girl was named Deborah with the simple variations of Debra, Deb, Debby, or Debbi. Twenty years ago, high school halls were packed with Jennifers AKA Jen, Jenny, or Jenni. Ten years ago, we had Emily truncated to the simple Em. A time-travelling high school teacher could easily determine which decade she had landed in by shouting "Deb", "Jen", or "Em" and seeing how many girls responded.

The same technique works for boys. Popular names have progressed from Mark to Eric to Matt. Sadly, we don't see multiple spellings on the male side. Still, our intrepid time traveller can determine the decade in which he lands regardless of gender.

Aussie, Aussie, Oy, Oy, Oy

My beloved Lafayette Leopards announced their men's basketball recruiting class this week. Recruits hail from Missouri, Minnesota, Colorado, and Australia.

The lads from MO, MN, and CO will probably adjust easily to life in Easton, PA. Life isn't that much different east or west of the Mississippi. The Australian might have a problem. Imagine departing the Southern Hemisphere on a balmy September morning (Spring down under) having survived the antipodal Winter and arriving here just in time for a frosty Autumn and yet another Winter. Joe Australia will truly suffer through The Year Without a Summer.

Scandanavians are susceptible to Seasonal Affective Disorder. Exposure to only a few hours of mid-winter sunlight can lead to depression and alcoholism. Will Joe Australia descend into SAD?

As a loyal Leopard booster, I plan to save our Aussie by bringing a sunlamp to home games. Supposedly, UV light is an antidote for SAD even if artificial. The sunlamp might also prove an effective deterrent to opponent's free throw accuracy. I will also bring a case of Foster's to the games. If the sunlamp doesn't work, we can drown our sorrows. If it does, we can toast victory.

Life's Crossroads

Kemba Walker led the University of Connecticut to the NCAA Men's Basketball Championship this year. The Sociology major will graduate this May after only three years on campus. On the surface, Kemba appears to be a prime example of a true student - athlete.

Kemba tarnished that image when he revealed that he just recently read an entire book for the first time. Now, sociology tomes are not exactly the books that one curls up with on the beach on a summer afteroon. Karl Marx and Friedrich Engels are not as interesting as J.K. Rowling or Stephen King. Still, it's hard to believe that Kemba never made it to the end of "Green Eggs and Ham". Spoiler Alert - Sam ends up liking the oddly-tinted foodstuffs.

In a way, Kemba's accomplishment reveals that single-mindedness so necessary to excel as an athlete. Think of how many times he must have come close to finishing a book, yet he retained his final page virgin status.

Now Kemba faces a life crossroads. Does he seek employment as a Sociologist (and the classified ads are jam-packed with sociological opportunities) or does he play professional basketball and garner a contract worth millions? It is a tough choice. Either way, he will have to read a book all the way through, be it the Employee Handbook at Sociology, Inc. or the Chicago Bulls Playbook.

My guess is that he will go with basketball. The Bulls' Playbook has lots of illustrations (play diagrams and the like) while the Employee Manual has none. Books with pictures are a lot easier to finish.

Gathering Around the Wireless

It is strange to see a TV show featuring "quaint customs of the past" and realize, "Whoa, I remember doing that myself."

The latest incarnation of "Upstairs, Downstairs" is set in 1936 London. In last night's episode, the house staff relaxed at the end of the day by "gathering around the wireless" and reading, snacking, conversing, etc. while listening to music and drama. How quaint! So this is how folks survived without cable TV, On-Demand movies, and Facebook. What century was this when people actually entertained themselves by talking to one another?

Then I remembered that we didn't get our first TV set until I was nearly seven years old. Before that, we used to gather in the kitchen after dinner and listen to the radio. I didn't care for the musical programs, but even as a kid, I could actually picture Marshall Dillon going after the bad guys on "Gunsmoke" and visualize the hospital on "Young Doctor Malone". My mother would bake something for a snack. We would play board games (I was undefeated against Mom in Chinese Checkers and Mr Wiggly which did wonders for my self-esteem until I realized she was losing on purpose.) It could not compare to the thrills of "Wii Sports" or "Grand Theft Auto", but it felt warm and secure.

Then along came the TV. When the news was on (and all three channels available had the news on at the same time), we kids would walk away. When Mickey Mouse Club was on, the adults would walk away. Eventually, we got another TV and further familial splintering ensued.

Come to think of it, there is a lot to recommend "gathering around the wireless". It is humbling to realize that I remember it.

A Gentle Reminder

Obamacare remains a controversial topic. Is it socialized medicine? What can we expect besides Death Panels and soaring deficits?

Let's look to Canada where government-sponsored healthcare has been in effect for years. Our Neighbors to the North appear to have avoided most of the pitfalls that Fox News so stridently warned against here in the US, but the Canadian Broadcasting Company uncovered a veritable "smoking gun" in the health care debate. A patient who was awake during an eye procedure overheard surgeons and nurses discussing a hockey game. He expressed concern to the CBC that this "idle chatter" could lead to a mistake. The Provincial College of Physicians and Surgeons then issued a "gentle reminder" to its members regarding professionalism in the operating room.

Those Canadians, always so polite with their "gentle reminders".

That's where Obamacare will inevitably lead - doctors and nurses talking sports when they should be concentrating on the business at hand. Those Canadian surgeons should copy what our red-blooded American scalpel jockeys discuss in the Operating Room - their golf games, tax shelters, and anonymous Cayman Islands bank accounts.

Of course, in Canada, hockey is more important to doctors than yachts, sports cars, and trophy wives. Responding to an uproar from its members, the Provincial College modified its "gentle warning". It only holds when operating on patients who have not been sedated. Dr Canuck is free to discuss the Canadiens' chances against the Bruins during open heart surgery, but not when stitching up one of the players.

That's the problem with government-sponsored healthcare. Too many rules. Too much confusion. Too many "gentle reminders".

Myths Debunked

I now feel qualified to debunk a trio of childhood myths. If one achieves adulthood at thirteen (Jewish kids get a great party and an end to those Hebrew lessons. Christian kids get their own offering envelopes. Big whoop.), eighteen (Pennsylvania kids get an unrestricted driver's license and a draft card), or twenty-one (American kids can burn that fake ID), I have been an official adult now for 50, 45, or 42 years.

Some parental admonitions ("Don't talk to strangers." "Look both ways before crossing." and "Don't wear stripes with plaids") have proven true. Others have not:

"Step on a (sidewalk) crack. Break your mothers back." - My Kindergarten class at James Monroe School tested this one. back in 1952. During recess one day, we all purposely stepped on the biggest crack we could find, then raced home to find our Moms disappointingly hale and hearty. When we reported this to Herbie Schuler, ring leader of the Kindergarten crack-steppers, he confidently stated that the Curse of the Sidewalk Crack takes a while to come into effect. Herbie, it's been 59 years and now I'm the one with the bad back. Why didn't you tell us that the Curse skips a generation?

"If you wear overshoes indoors, you'll go blind." - Back in the day, every kid wore rubber overshoes that slipped over our oh-so-fragile leather shoes in wet weather. Most of the time, you needed no reminder to take them off when you went indoors. The overshoes were either so large that you walked like Bozo the Clown or so small that you walked like a Chinese concubine with bound feet. Just once, in 4th grade, did my overshoes fit perfectly. I forgot that I had them on that day in school and naturally that was the day we had our vision test which I failed and I've been wearing glasses ever since. Coincidence? I immediately removed the overshoes which is probably the only reason why I'm not carrying a white cane and being led around by a service dog today. Several years later, I noted the preponderance of eyeglasses at a family reunion and credited my myopia to genetics instead of properly-fitted overshoes.

"Don't swim for a half-hour after eating. You will cramp up and drown." - This admonition explains why the bottom of pools with snack bars are littered with the decomposing corpses of well-fed children. The beach with its countless Boardwalk food vendors would be even worse except the crabs eat the dead kids. According to our parents, anyway. Trust me on this one, modern youth. This is a parental plot to get you to clean up your lunch mess before you go back in the water. Parents would love to say, "Don't watch TV for a half hour after eating. Your eyes will cramp up and fall out." That way you would have to help with the dishes. But no kid would fall for that one.

Sorry about spilling the beans, fellow parents, but youth must be served.

Derek's Dilemma

ESPN.com reports that Yankees shortstop Derek Jeter is spending $15,500 this month to rent a two-bedroom, three-bath apartment at New York's Trump World Tower -- the same building where he already owns a $20 million penthouse. With neighbors doing construction, the penthouse just wasn't quiet enough for a good night's sleep.

It isn't easy being Derek Jeter. Between posing for advertisements, squiring supermodels around town, and, oh yes, playing baseball, the man needs his rest. In order to get that rest, Derek has to "rough it" with a mere two bedrooms and three baths. This may seem excessive to the six member Bronx family crammed into a 1.5 room efficiency, but it's impossible to get good help nowadays and what if Derek's "A" Bedroom isn't made up in time for his pre-game nap. He's got to go with the "B" Bedroom. Also, what if Bathrooms "A" and "B" are fresh out of exfoliant? That's when you really need that Bathroom "C'.

$15,500 is a lot of money for most folks to pay for rent each month. After all, one's rent / mortgage should not exceed 30% of one's salary. Fortunately, Derek's salary is about $20 million per year. Spread over 200 games per year (including spring training and, of course, the playoffs and World series), Derek hauls in $100,000 per game, so he covers his monthly rent in about 1.5 innings. 1.5 innings takes about 30 minutes to play. Derek covers his rent in about one half hour's work.

It isn't easy being Derek Jeter. Of course, it isn't hard either.

Lessons Come Alive

Teachers strive to "make the lesson come alive" in a classroom setting.

I fondly remember working on a diorama of Washington crossing the Delaware and creating my very own spurting volcano. The very best "lesson come alive" was when my Physics class all joined hands while Mr Davis revved up the static electricity generator. Every hair on 25 heads stood at attention when we got that electrical shock and we looked like a reunion of Rod Stewart and Bride of Frankenstein impersonators.

To commemorate the 150th anniversary of the start of the Civil War, a Virginia 4th grade teacher had her class do something equally hair-raising. She ordered black and mixed race students to one side of the room. White students then took turns bidding on their classmates in a mock "slave auction". Parents complained (hard to believe) and the school principal wrote a letter to them stating that the teacher "had gone too far" (Do you think?).

Let's not limit ourselves to American History in making "lessons come alive". When the Mongols conquered a particularly obstreperous Russian village back in the thirteenth century, the Khan marched its inhabitants past a wagon wheel. All those taller than the wheel were beheaded. "OK, World History class. Line up alongside the window. Can you see over the sill? Too bad, here comes the sword."

Lessons could also come alive in science class. "Solar eclipses occur only when the moon is between the Earth and the Sun. Lunar eclipses occur only when the Earth is between the Sun and the moon. What does that tell us? Johnny? You say that the Earth revolves around the Sun and the moon revolves around the Earth? Wrong answer! The Church tell us that everything revolves around the Earth. Obviously, you are one of those smart guy heretics. Repent or be burned at the stake."

"Lessons come alive" teaches us that being black, being tall, or being an intelligent observer results in slavery, beheading, or a fiery death. Maybe we should stick to non-lively lessons.

Throw Out Those Khakis

Fashion arbiters of workplace attire are all atwitter after yesterday's Masters Golf Tournament. Throw out those khakis! It's white pants and a pastel shirt for the cubicle in 2011.

Office attire for men was stuck in a white-on-white shirt with conservative tie, navy blue or gray dress pants rut through the 60s. It took a turn toward "Look at me. I'm funky" in the polyester shirt, wide tie, bell-bottom 70s. Even the top execs rebelled against Brooks Brothers with the Lee Iacocca white collar on colored dress shirt look. It was definitely an era of Fashion Rebellion.

The Reagan 80s put a stop to that. Greed is good, but only if you wear a conservative suit. The Regis Philbin shiny monochromatic shirt and tie had a brief run in those sweet corner offices, but only lasted as long as the prime-time run of "Who Wants to be a Millionaire".

With the 90s came Casual Fridays which led to Casual Summers and finally grew into Corporate Casual all the time. The accepted look for men was khakis and a golf shirt, preferably one with a logo from a course that wouldn't allow the wearer on its hallowed grounds. "Wow, Kevin. What is Augusta National / St Andrews / Pebble Beach really like?" is a great ice-breaker at those monthly budget status meetings.

The Corporate Casual look has remained stagnant for over 20 years now. Two young Australians changed all that yesterday. Jason Day and Adam Scott fell a stroke short of winning the Masters, but their white pants revolutionized golf course and therefore cubicle attire. Adam Scott pushed the envelope by wearing a matching white golf shirt leading to kids asking, "Dad, what is the ice cream guy doing with a golf club in his hand?" Surely, corporate casual officeworkers will soon resemble hospital staff in white pants and colorful tops.

It's the next step in the constant evolution of office wear. Get with it, Dockers.

Waitin' for the Robert E. Lee

PBS showed Ken Burns' "The Civil War" this week. I learn something new every time I see it.

After the war when he was president of Washington College in Virginia, Robert E. Lee was asked if he had any regrets. One would expect him to recall some old battle or even that he chose the South over the North, but Lee replied, "I regret obtaining a military education." The narrator noted that when Lee marched with undergraduates during various collegiate ceremonies, he made a point of being out of step. All this from the greatest soldier that America ever produced, the only man to make it through West Point without ever receiving a demerit, a hero of the Mexican War, the man who rejuvenated West Point as its Superintendent, the general who nearly won the war despite being outmanned and outgunned. Maybe Lee was being tongue in cheek, the jokester college president. Or maybe he was saying that a liberal arts education, studying both sides to an argument, and being out of step with the crowd makes better citizens than single-minded devotion to a cause.

A military education,on the other hand, teaches that accomplishing "the mission" is paramount. There will be some collateral damage, but the ends justify the means.

I wonder what Robert E. Lee would think of the current Federal budgetary impasse. "The mission" is to bring expenditures in line with receipts. The "military" procedure is to severely cut the budget (especially those programs you don't like in the first place) and if the government has to shut down and our soldiers overseas don't get paid on time, so be it. General Robert E. Lee might go along with that. But College President Robert E. Lee might take a more reasoned approach, thoroughly analyze the situation and maybe come up with an "out of step" solution.

Packing Heat

In a recent Letter to the Editor, Jerry Guerriere recommends that our local colleges allow, even encourage, faculty and students to carry concealed weapons. The state of Pennsylvania allows us to "pack heat", yet Lafayette, Lehigh, and NCACC all have signs stating "No Firearms". This is a bad idea, according to Jerry. He writes, "If you were a bad guy and were going to rob a house, would you go to the one with an alarm company sign or to the house without an alarm (welcome mat)? We don't need our future leaders, doctors, engineers, etc to be sitting ducks. We should write to the schools and tell them to change their rules. The state of Pennsylvania's laws are not keeping students and faculty from arming themselves. It is the school administration that is inviting the bad guys in."

Right on, Jerry! In fact, this could be a boon to our cash-strapped institutions of higher learning. The College Book Store is a great profit center for them already. Students and faculty are a captive market for those over-priced text books, and that's not the only item that keeps the Book Store cash registers ringing. As a freshman engineering student back in 1965, I paid $35 at the Lafayette College Store for an "approved" drafting set that I found for $15 back home during Thanksgiving.

If Lafayette, Lehigh, and NCACC "approve" a particular Glock pistol, mark it up by 100%, and sell it in the College Store, they will not only keep the bad guys at bay, but they will fill their coffers. This is a true win - win. There might be a hail of gunfire as Lafayette and Lehigh students clash for those precious goal posts after the big game, but it's a small price to pay. After all, the true purpose of college is to prepare undergrads for the Real World. Since the Real World allows them to pack heat, let's prepare "our future leaders, doctors, engineers, etc". for the boardroom, operating room, or engineering office with some collegiate firearm experience.

Un - Bearable

New Jersey has contributed in both good ways and bad to the quality of life in the Lehigh Valley. The Garden State provided us with thin crust pizza and the musical stylings of Frankie Valli and Jon Bon Jovi. That's good. It also sent hordes of new residents across the Delaware River seeking lower taxes and more affordable housing. That's tolerable. Unfortunately, they brought their aggressive driving habits with them. That's bad.

Now there's another looming threat from the East. Sussex County, NJ "has more bears than anywhere in North America" according to the NJ Division of Fish and Wildlife. Expanding their range, these Garden State bruins "may be the bears that people in Easton and Bethlehem report next spring". Worse yet, Fish and Wildlife views bears "as native species with the right to be here. So, if they do not cause serious problems, they are left alone".

First, the Garden State ruined our TV viewing with Snooki, "The Situation" and the rest of the Jersey Shore bunch. Now, they assault our pristine woodlands with out-of-state bears undoubtedly featuring poofy hairstyles, out-of-control drinking, and odd accents. Enough is enough!

Let's attack this problem in true Pennsylvania fashion. That "native species with the right to be here" line really means that New Jersey has no bear hunting season. Well, we have one in the Keystone State and we are not afraid to take on these Invaders from the East. Pennsylvanians have a proud history of taking up arms against invaders. We sent Robert E. Lee packing back in 1863.

We need a year-round bear hunting season. The crack of Pennsylvania gunfire 24 / 7 / 365 will keep those New Jersey bruins on their side of the Delaware. It might also keep some of those crazy Jersey drivers from passing on the right. We Pennsylvanians have a right to drive 45 mph in the passing lane if we want!

The Evil Scarecrow Bunny

It takes a lot to freak out the family dog. Thunder, the vacuum cleaner, and the fact that his food bowl once again magically filled itself (Pay no attention to the man behind the curtain carrying the kibble) get him excited, but a total canine freak out is a rare occurence.

He experienced one yesterday during our morning walk. It began with the standard sniffing (That husky from up the street peed on this telephone pole, so I must do the same) and searching for chaseable squirrels. Then we encountered something inordinately evil. A neighbor had erected a Rabbit Scarecrow. It stood about six feet high, wore a flowery dress, had a bunny face, and was topped with an Easter Bonnet. Its arms extended parallel to the ground, crucifix-like, and had straw poking out the ends.

The dog freaked out. "OMG, this giant bunny will avenge all the evil I have visited upon his brethren! I must bolt back to my safe spot behind the couch, cower, and whimper."

I freaked out. It brought back memories of the shower scene in "Psycho". I envisioned a knife-wielding anthropomorphic rabbit bursting through the shower curtain to stab me. I pondered racing back to my safe spot cowering under the bed.

Why do I have this fear of human-sized rabbits? It goes back to my first visit to the Easter Bunny. My earlier visit to Santa Claus had gone extremely well. The Jolly Old Elf had come through with the Hopalong Cassidy gunset that I requested. I had a long list of candy requests for the EB. When I sat on his lap I peered into his face and saw that HIS HEAD WASN'T REAL! It was a fine wire mesh with eyes, etc painted on and inside his head was a person. The Easter Bunny had eaten this person and I was probably next! I screamed and bolted for the exit.

I buried the trauma of that day deep in my subconscious until it finally reappeared sixty years later at the sight of the Evil Scarecrow Bunny. Did my panic transfer to my faithful canine companion or did he re-visit his own puppyhood trauma?

We are taking a different route for our walks until Easter is past.

Poisson d'Avril

Maybe it is because today is April Fools Day.

The Today Show had a segment this morning on compensation for hedge fund managers. The top 20 guys hauled in a total of $22.5 billion last year. That is their personal compensation, not the profits that they achieved for their firms. The highest-paid guy made more than $5 billion by playing the gold market. The segment showed their 30,000 SF homes in the Hamptons, their vacation homes, exotic vehicles, etc.

Fortunately, Congress chose not to increase their taxes from 35% to 38% because we can't overburden our "job creators". These hedge fund managers must employ a small army of willing workers to keep their estates and vehicles up to snuff.

The Today Show correspondent assured us that hedge funds are a crucial part of the capitalist system though it doesn't appear that they actually produce anything other than profits for themselves.

Meanwhile some poor soldier slogs through the mud in Afghanistan or Iraq to preserve and protect the American Way. Too bad that the people laying their lives on the line don't get the benefits. I guess it's April Fools on us.