Stranger Conversations

Friends have commented from time to time about how much information I glean from a single conversation with a total stranger. On reflection, I guess that is true. So, I offer some direction in that regard, prefaced with comment.

Living in a foreign environment often requires asking for local information. I suppose that is the impetus of my penchant for talking with strangers. Beyond that, I find stranger conversation an excellent way to learn things and quench my insatiable curiosity. What my HS geometry teacher called “That driving thirst for knowledge.” As a lad, I was naturally shy and kept company only with a few close friends and family. My time in the very open environment at Esalen and advancing years, have given me the confidence, desire and license to engage total strangers. That license is particularly valid in foreign countries, where I’m the only Gringo in sight, and thus enjoy a certain novelty and latitude. Now, the “talking points”:

1.      Choose the venue – Some places offer better conversation opportunities than others. My favorite place is on a bus, particularly a long bus ride, more common overseas than in the US. I also appreciate the small restaurant custom of seating strangers at a shared table. I wish there was more of that in the US. Sitting down on a park or plaza bench next to a stranger has also yielded good results for me.

2.      Be bold – Fear of rejection or inadequacy is a huge impediment to reaching out to strangers. Emily Post used to consider it “poor etiquette” to engage in conversation before being formally introduced.  In the US, kids are even indoctrinated with the ridiculous “Stranger Danger”, which may inhibit their ability to reach out for life. It certainly represents a step outside the normal Comfort Zone. Some level of boldness and risk are needed to make contact. But the rewards and satisfaction from the human connection can be enormous for both parties.

3.      Be respectful – The balance between bold and respectful is a tricky one. Some folks are just not interested or are otherwise engaged. Respect their desire for privacy and learn to read the body language that says “Thanks, but no thanks”. I find that overseas, most folks are actually flattered that a Gringo wants to talk with them in their own language. The ability to read body language is helpful.

4.      Relax - Put folks at ease with a casual and relaxed manner. If I am preoccupied in thought or otherwise distracted – that’s not the time to strike up a conversation. A smile goes a long way towards putting folks at ease. Though a forced smile is perhaps worse than none at all.

5.      Ask questions – The best way to learn is to simply ASK. It’s not an interrogation, so questions should come from a place of genuine curiosity. Almost any statement has questions hidden inside it. Everyone has a story to tell. The joy is in finding it and letting them tell it.

6.      Find commonalities – Establishing a common interest can make a quick bond of trust. But, it can also be a trap – ensuring the conversation won’t leave the bounds of the common interest.

7.      Eye contact – I always feel more connected when there is eye contact. I find this to be difficult in Latin countries where generations of servitude have created a custom of looking down around “the boss man”. Some subtle body language can elicit an eye response and help erase years of inferiority, with the eye contact message of respect, that “you are my equal”.

8.      Allow “the long pause” – I try (and often fail) not to respond immediately, but allow a “long pause”. This seems to invite and give “permission” for the other person to continue or elaborate. The pause says “Please, tell me more.”

9.      Lose your agenda – Let the conversation go wherever it wants, rather than where you want it to go.

10.   Really LISTEN – Maybe the hardest thing of all. We all tend to start formulating a response well before the other has finished speaking. I am certainly guilty as charged. But, I’ve found that if I focus on the other’s mouth, it helps keep me from jumping the gun.

As Jimmy Buffet says “It works for me. It might work for you.”  I’m no expert - I simply enjoy the human contact and learning new things. The above is just my own codified list of what works for me. It may not work for you. If it does, I’m glad. You are helping promote human connection, understanding and friendship. And maybe you learn some interesting things and make new friends along the way.

In this increasingly fearful, suspicious and isolating world, we can all combat the separations, prejudices and divisions by simply reaching out to others. A thoughtful conversation is great, but even a simple greeting, genuine compliment, friendly wave and/or smile will do.

America’s Game

Baseball has always been my favorite sport. Even though professional football has far surpassed baseball in attendance and viewers in recent years, baseball will never lose it’s title of “America’s Game. At least not in my world.

As a game, baseball has a ridiculous set of arbitrary rules, coupled with a complexity and intricacy that would make any double speaking diplomat or attorney proud. The Official Baseball Rules devotes no less than 7 pages to the infield fly rule alone. As a sport, it is horrible exercise. While some defensive positions require constant Herculean efforts, others spend the majority of time standing or shuffling their feet. On offense, players only get a handful of opportunities to bat, an activity which requires unnatural bodily actions. Watching the slow moving game requires the patience of Job, with long pauses between pitches, batters and innings. Not to mention a “7th Inning Stretch”.

Yet, I found that all of the above atrocities made the game a wonderful vehicle for coaching young players and teaching concepts of both individual confidence and excellence, and teamwork and sportsmanship.

Growing up in rural CT, I played Little League, starting at age 7, though kids today start much earlier with T-Ball and such. Mom and Dad had to drive me over 30 minutes to get to practices and even further for games. I wasn’t very good; mostly consigned to right or center field, where I had few opportunities for mistakes. My batting average was….. not good. But, I loved being out there with the other boys, chanting “batter, batter, batter. Hey batter” in unison and cheering each other on. The smell of the grass and the rubbed leather of my glove were like sweet perfume. The sound of the wooden bat smacking the leather ball was music to my ears. (Metal bats – not so much). Thus began my love affair with the game.

Off the field, there was the constant talk of the last game or of what was happening in the major leagues. All spoken of strictly within the brotherhood of “baseball guys”. Of particular conversational merit was the ongoing debate over baseball heroes. Mine was Mickey Mantle. Even his name was a thrill to say. When I was 10, we all followed his quest for the home run record with utmost intensity. There was a certain faction of our crowd devoted to the great Ted Williams, which resulted in at least one schoolyard melee. I grew up half way between Boston and NY, so my friends were equally split as “fans”. I was never a “fan” of either team, but admired those who played the game well. Back then, the World Series was our total focus during the first days of October, as we huddled around whoever had a transistor radio.

I gave up playing baseball when we moved to Florida, in exchange for a blossoming interest in girls, and remained apart from the game for many years. When my two boys were growing up, I got back into the game as a coach. I started coaching from the start with “T-Ball”, so named because the batter hits from a “tee” which holds the ball at shoulder level right in front of him (or her). The game is a good natured and often hysterical introduction to the national sport. While no official score is kept, I guarantee that every kid can tell you how many runs were scored. Everybody bats and plays at each position – wonderfully democratic.

After that, the game only got increasingly serious and less fun. I continued to coach, despite hearing flak from non-coaching parents who wanted their child to play more or at a different position. In fairness, I was perhaps overly democratic about the game, insisting that everyone get a chance to play, even if it meant a lower score for the team. My coaching "claim to fame" came from building a home-made pitching device, in an effort to save my fading rotator cuff. While not the best game from a physical/exercise view, I found the slow pace and frequent lulls in action a wonderful vehicle for teaching baseball and, by extension, life.

My son Dawson was an amazing player, seriously the best I ever coached. He had natural talent at bat, and at his shortstop position would move toward the ball even before it was hit, making the impossible catch look easy. Perhaps more importantly, his sportsmanship was legendary. He cheered his teammates when they did well and consoled them when they made errors. As Dorinda and I grew apart, the soft green fields of dreams, the smell of leather gloves and baseball itself, provided a warm solace and refuge. Eventually, the pressures from parents and the focus on winning at any cost, coupled with a bad rotator cuff from pitching practices, caused me to exit the game once again.

Every so often, the love affair was rekindled by the many excellent baseball themed movies. Field of Dreams tops my list, followed by Bull Durham, The Natural and the perennial tear-jerker – The Sandlot. And who can forget the hilarious scene in Ridiculous Six where Doubleday explains his new game?

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=whVYz1Z3n6Y

Or the lump-in-throat They Will Come speech from Field of Dreams?
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=z6U1p0hehtg

My cousin George created quite an entertaining baseball stir when he wrote a spoof article about a new pitcher who could throw at an un-hittable 125mph. Outraged readers apparently failed to note the issue’s April 1^st date and cancelled subscriptions in droves. His subsequent novel “The Curious Case of Sidd Finch” only added fuel to the fire.

Though I still hold America’s Game dear to my heart, I don’t follow professional baseball at all. I simply don’t fathom the fan mentality. (But, that’s an issue for another day). Though, I do enjoy watching from time to time, just to marvel at how well pro players play the game.

Still, the smell of leather, any leather, or the scent of freshly cut grass or the glimpse of a baseball diamond fills me with joyful memories.

Trial & Error, Bravery and Discovery

We may sometimes forget or overlook the enormous bravery, experimentation and courage required to make basic discoveries by our ancestors, which have yielded the extraordinarily rich life we enjoy today.

Nightshade berries look delicious, but they are toxic

Take food, for example. Some food discoveries were probably pretty easy – simply pick that red apple fruit or yellow banana from the tree and eat it. Or watch a nursing cow or goat and figure if the calf likes it, it might be good for me, too. But, not all fruits were so easy – how many folks got sick or died trying toxic berries? And how much time was involved in passing that critical information, mostly verbally, down through the generations? Moreover, as humans migrated to new environments, the whole food experiment began anew.

Our consumption of animal flesh, especially organs, is often credited with advancing human nutrition above our vegetarian ancestral species. Perhaps seeing other predators enjoy animal flesh inspired this discovery. Beyond our skills of communication and cooperation required to catch wild game and birds, we somehow hit upon the idea that cooking the meat yielded much higher food value, flavor and ease in chewing and digestion. Again, that knowledge was spread between tribes and generations. No small feat and accomplishment.

Other food discoveries are harder to fathom. How did we figure out that grinding and cooking a grain released more nutrition? And who figured out how to grind or crush it in the first place? There is the age-old commentary on the bravery of the first person to eat an oyster. Though that is easily explained by hunger and its ability to get us to try ANYTHING – leather, tree bark or moss. When did some genius, after sucking the small fruit of a coffee tree and crunching down on the bitter, tasteless bean inside, think “Gee, if roasted this thing, ground it up and passed hot water over it, I bet I’d have a great breakfast drink”?

Kidney beans are toxic until cooked

And then there are the foods that require special knowledge to eat. The cashew nut, for example, is surrounded by a toxic sap, which I once learned the hard way. How many folks got sick from that nut before someone (accidentally?) got the nut near a fire and found that, when dried and roasted, it was delicious and safe? The same is true for asparagus, the young shoots of which are only edible for a few days, before the plant turns into a woody shrub with toxic berries. Lychee is toxic until mature. Cassava and kidney beans are both highly toxic to humans until cooked. Imagine how that discovery went down – “Yeah, I know this food killed Aunt Mary and Uncle Joe. But, I think I’ll try cooking it and see if it kills me.”

Observation, trial & error and plain old luck over the centuries have yielded a wealth of good food which we enjoy today. Yet, we have gone far beyond those discoveries and carried seed with us to new lands. The inventions of refrigeration and transportation have made it possible to enjoy foods, not just in their local seasons, but year-round from all over the globe.

While our early powers of observation and experimentation likely focused on the food we needed to survive, other innovations, just as remarkable and unlikely, used those same attributes. Take metals, for example.

Lord Sipan was covered in ornate gold

On a Peace Corps visit to the fabulous Sipan museum in Lambayeque, Peru, the ornate and beautiful gold jewelry and carvings were dazzling, to be sure. But, I was struck by one small exhibit that showed the process of mining and extracting the gold base for all those extraordinary creations. Let’s give the artists their due, but not forget that someone had to give them the metal to start with. As I stood before the mining exhibit, my mind tried to imagine how it all began.

Maybe some gold-rich rock was placed into a roaring cook or signal fire. The next morning some alert and observant person notices some yellow material has oozed out of the rock and solidified.

Gold ore

He shows it to his curious friends and someone notices that you can bend the stuff. Someone else pounds it with a rock to reveal the brilliant and captivating gold color. Suddenly folks want more of the stuff and remember where that rock came from. Some excavation, rock pounding and hot fire later – the tribe has “discovered” gold. And the artists took it from there.

The proverbial "diamond in the rough"

The same for diamonds, which look like junk rock in their natural state. But, someone smashed one and enjoyed the sparkle and ultimately decided they might look good when worn on a woman’s finger.

Such is the marvel of the extraordinary evolution of human experimentation and innovation. No other species on the planet does it like we do. While we continue to experiment, it is usually done behind safety goggles and safety protocols.

Take a look around you and contemplate the process of their discovery. We owe all those early experimenters a huge debt of gratitude and appreciation for their bold curiosity, daring and willingness to risk and try the unknown.

The Great Bottled Water Scam

As a water and sanitation specialist working in rural areas of developing countries, I have seen first-hand how important good clean drinking water is to public health. Untreated water from wells, rivers or run-off causes enormous intestinal and even developmental problems. But, in the US, we enjoy almost universal access to safe, clean, dependable drinking water right from the tap.

Yet Coca-Cola, Nestles and other sellers of bottled water have somehow convinced us that we need to buy their very expensive and environmentally un-friendly bottled water. The industry is enormous - $100 Billion a year, with outrageous profits. A gallon of tap water usually costs about 1 cent, while bottled bulk water goes for $1/gal and up to $25/gal in small bottles.

Study after study has shown that tap water, which seems to have taken on a negative connotation, is every bit as safe as bottled water. Indeed, concerns over chemical leaching from the plastic bottle may be a concern. Blind taste tests indicate that most folks can’t tell the difference. Yet 73 percent of Americans say they have “significant concerns” about the quality of their tap water. The US water supply is the envy of every developing country, yet we shun our own brilliant water supply. How did we come to this?

To be sure, there are some problems with our water supply. Folks who use private wells are not subject to EPA safety standards and some municipalities (most notably Flint, MI) do have quality issues. There is added concern that the Trump administration gutting of the EPA may result in lower water monitoring and safety. But, the vast majority of water systems adhere to very strict and high standards for water quality. An army of municipal water workers deserve our thanks for the outstanding safe and dependable water they provide.

All water systems provide Consumer Confidence Reports. You can ask your local utility for a copy or check this EPA to see if your water utility CCR is posted online.
https://ofmpub.epa.gov/apex/safewater/f?p=136:102::::::

Moreover, these insidious purveyors of bottled water have made it their mission to buy or control water sources all over the world, seeking to control access to water and profit by doing so. 50 BILLION plastic water bottles will be used this year and only 20 percent of those will be recycled.

So, unless you live in the Third World, Flint or have a private well, next time you’re thirsty, please consider some tap water, instead of lining the pockets of Nestles, polluting the environment, and falling for the bottled water scam.

Mr Rogers – An American Hero

In a time when children’s TV was dominated by clowns and cowboys, Fred Rogers was just himself – a good man, who spoke directly and plainly to children (and adults), with a message of self-worth, fairness, tolerance and good citizenship. In a world punctuated by violence, fear and hate, his message is perhaps even more relevant today. His gentle persona had an impact on me as a child, and for the rest of my life. He was a man who embodied the best of what we can be. He was a great American hero. And certainly one of mine.

A new documentary “Won’t You Be My Neighbor”, was recently released to honor what would have been his 90^th birthday. The trailer is at : https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HV_kxc9PxrQ

A couple of his quotes ring particularly true to me:

“If you could only sense how important you are to the lives of those you meet; how important you can be to the people you may never even dream of. There is something of yourself that you leave at every meeting with another person.”

( I would add that I gain something from every person I meet)

“At the center of the Universe is a loving heart that continues to beat and that wants the best for every person. Anything that we can do to help foster the intellect and spirit and emotional growth of our fellow human beings, that is our job. Those of us who have this particular vision must continue against all odds. Life is for service.”

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FhwktRDG_aQ&feature=youtu.be

A Crisis of Medication

I was recently shocked to learn that fully ¼ of the freshmen entering Princeton this year are either on an anxiety / depression medication, or require ongoing therapy. I was assured that this is not atypical. And that is just the iceberg tip. Over 70 percent of Americans take some form of medication daily - 2 in 7 of those for depression or sleep aid. The numbers are even higher for those over 50. Of those on meds, over 80 percent take at least two prescription drugs and over 50 percent take four or more (most of the interactions between these multiple drugs are not tested). And we haven’t even started to count the rampant Rx pain medication market. Moreover, many low income folks struggle with whether to buy a prescription or put food on the table. Sounds like an over-medicated society to me.

It would be easy to blame greedy Big Pharma for their endless promotion of their drugs. In that regard, I would note that advertising drugs to consumers is legal ONLY in the US and New Zealand, thanks to powerful drug lobbys in both countries. The games they play with regulators and Congress contribute to the affordability issue.

Or we might blame doctors, who are quick to pull out the Rx pad for a chemical mask of symptoms, rather than take the time to address the root cause. Certainly the extra money that some physicians receive from Big Pharma does nothing to deter the Rx trigger finger.

In truth, we patient / consumers are a very real part of the problem. The attitude that taking a BP or cholesterol medication is just easier than getting more exercise and eating a healthier diet is pervasive. Why do the work, when we can just take a pill and then eat chips in front of the TV is the American way - everyone else does it.

The same lazy convenience factor accounts for over-use of anti-biotics, as well. Just throw a broad spectrum killer at the problem rather than let the immune system do its job. This not only creates resistant bugs, but dampens the immune system and damages the body’s micro-biome.

The irony of all this medication is that most consumers expect that the drug will be effective. What they fail to grasp is that a drug need only “perform statistically better than the placebo” to win FDA approval. Drug companies only have to provide 2 studies and may have many studies which show the drug to be ineffective, but don’t need to reveal that. In some cases, drugs have been approved which are less than 50 percent effective, yet statistically better than the placebo.

The bottom line is this : If we want to reduce our enormous ingestion of prescription chemicals, we must take responsibility for our own health.

“Ask your doctor if more walks in nature and a better diet are right for you.”

The Wings of Man

In 1927, the fledgling Eastern Airlines began operation as a US Mail carrier. The enterprise would soon expand into the passenger business under the direction of the famous WW I ace Eddie Rickenbacker and later astronaut Frank Borman. First known as “The Great Silver Fleet”, “The Wings of Man” became the famous tag for the airline that “earned its wings every day”.

Between 1969 and 1991, when they stopped flying, I logged almost 700,000 air miles on Eastern Airlines. This was back in the days when flying was easy and kind to travelers, who like me, were unusually loyal to a single carrier. The only reason I would even consider using another airline was if Eastern simply did not serve the area. They earned that loyalty with all manner of ploys, promotions and just plain great service.

In college, there were 50% student discounts. In addition, Eastern had student reps on many campuses (a job I wanted but never got). The catch was that it was stand-by travel, though I never missed a flight, while flying at 25%. The old Newark terminal had sprawling long arms extending from a central hub which required extended walks, often avoided by the I Club shuttle. Eastern had set the hook in me that was shaken only by the demise of my beloved airline.

The Ionosphere Clubs were as varied as the cities they served. Some, like Houston, were simple and plain. But in major airports like JFK (Idlewilde), O’Hare, Altanta, etc., they were palaces filled with elite travelers and perks. My favorites were Miami (Eastern’s HQ) and San Juan. Both had commanding views, attendants who all looked like models and every traveling amenity. The major hub in the old Atlanta terminal had some small conference rooms, with big, reclining leather chairs and couches that made perfect spots for naps.

After law school, my work required visits to agricultural research stations and colleges all over the country, several times a year. At just that time, Eastern offered a 21 day unlimited mileage pass, which was just the “ticket” for me. Those were three week marathons of rental cars, hotels, meetings and flight, all away from home, since any city could only be visited once on the pass. This often led to odd itineraries, like flying from SFO to LAX via DFW. The upside was that weekends were open to explore all parts of this extraordinary country. All the while, Eastern Airlines made my travel as comfortable as possible.

And dear Eastern didn’t stop there. They had a “Weekender” program, which allowed weekend trips on 24 hr notice for just a few dollars. And of course, the Frequent Flyer program, which carried me and my family all over the country. There was even a perk at Disney World, which allowed VIP treatment at Eastern’s “If You Had Wings” ride (now Buzz Lightyear) and elsewhere in the park. For many years pilots and co-pilots mingled in the I Clubs, often resulting in an invitation to the flight deck during a flight – unheard of these days. During long layovers, I often visited the control tower and/or approach control, even taking my young sons on occasion.

Those were surely the Golden Years of airline travel, when passengers were courted and treated well, in exchange for loyalty. When I felt a part of a friendly, caring service, rather than a filled seat on some accountant’s spread sheet. When we traveled without fear. And when you could show up at the airport 10 minutes before departure and still make your flight.