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.

Vicarious Joy

Returning from Almirante to Changuinola on the bus yesterday, I saw a young girl and her mother up ahead, waiting for the bus. They were at a remote location – one of those places where people wait who are from tiny remote villages or isolated houses. The girl was jumping up and down, grinning ear to ear  and pointing at the bus, while simultaneously dragging her Mom toward it. She was clearly was excited about this trip. As she boarded the bus, she proudly announced “Buenos Tardes”. And when most of the bus answered her greeting, she giggled and lifted her shoulders in satisfaction. I watched her the rest of the way into town, gazing out the window and turning to inspect the other passengers. I found myself smiling a huge smile and imagining that this is a trip she rarely gets to make and was relishing every minute of it.

It was at that moment that I realized how much pleasure I get from vicarious joy. Watching other people appreciate and enjoy this world gives me joy, as well. At one level, the joy was not mine. I can’t be sure what the girl actually felt. But I can still enjoy it, thanks to that marvel of humanity known as imagination. And thanks to that gift, the joy I feel is my own and is quite real.

I am profoundly grateful for that gift and all the other pleasures I derive from being alive on this planet.

Trying to make sense of the “gun” issue

(Spoiler Alert : This is likely to alienate some of my liberal friends and puzzle my conservative, pro-gun friends. Also, feel free to substitute “firearm” for “gun”.)

After every school shooting, there arises a massive outpouring of outrage and anger. I get it – the senseless slaughter of innocent children is right up there with gassing the Jews on the Horrific scale. After the useless “thoughts and prayers”, come the predictable battle cries of “Gun Control” and their inevitable echo “Second Amendment”. And nothing gets done.

First, some perspective, please. Tragic and horrible as these shooting are, they represent just a few dozen of the 34,000+ gun deaths in the US each year – the tip of the tip of the gun violence iceberg. While we are mourning school deaths, 58 Americans a day are killing themselves with a gun and another 30 are killing someone else. Every day. And we barely bat an eye over these folks.

Moreover, I maintain that all these deaths represent a mental health issue, not a gun issue. Which is not to say that guns don’t exacerbate and facilitate the problem. The sheer number of guns in the US – more than any other country by far – means that access to one is relatively easy. There is a direct correlation between number of guns and gun deaths in any state. But, correlation does not equal causality. Vast numbers of guns don’t actually cause gun deaths, but they most certainly facilitate them. Sadly, our extraordinary armory of guns is a part of the problem that can’t be mitigated. The genie is out of the bottle and the cow has left the barn.

This begs the gun control issue. Yes, we could institute strict control of gun sales, including registration, better background checks, licensing, training, insurance – you name it. Even ban sales of assault type guns. This would likely only make a small difference, albeit a positive one. Short of confiscation, the simple fact is that there are too many guns out there and we can’t make them disappear or realistically limit access to them. We can only make them harder to buy.

Which brings us back to mental health – the real issue, to my mind. And I have no idea how to solve that one. How do we, as a society, stop 21,000 of our friends and family from fatally shooting themselves each year? Not to mention the other 23,000/yr who end their lives without a gun. Suicide hotlines are out there, but clearly let too many fall through the cracks. And even the ultimate penalty doesn’t prevent 11,000 gun murders a year – or the other 5,000 non-gun homicides.

Perhaps a national campaign, like the “Keep America Beautiful” program that turned my generation of American litter-bugs into litter police, is in order. Or something like the “Friends don’t let friends drive drunk” slogan that demonstrably lowered drunk driving rates. How about “Friends don’t let depressed friends keep a gun in their house”, coupled with fellow gun owner interventions?

I have no definitive answer. I only wish that instead of the senseless finger-pointing, we could come together as a society and solve this problem in a rational, thoughtful and respectful way.

I’m open to ideas……..

Three Cubes in a Tin

I met an elderly ex-Brit on the beach yesterday, complete with waxed, white mustache. We had lunch (a lovely fish in curry sauce) and somehow the conversation turned to psychedelics. In the late sixties, he was an auditor for Barclay's Bank in San Fransisco. One day, as he put it "A lovely young nymph, wearing a tie-dyed blouse and little else" pressed three orange sugar cubes into his hand and whispered "When you're ready". At no time in the intervening 50 years did he feel ready, so the cubes have remained in a small tin these long years.

He asked my advice, having learned that I had experience in the matter. I gave him Terrence McKenna's line: "I'm not saying everybody has to have a psychedelic experience. But say you lived in Iowa your whole life. Don't you think it would be nice to see the ocean at least one time?". To which he replied, "But we're already here at the ocean.". Which made me think he didn't quite get the point, so I just added how I didn't feel qualified to comment on the potency of 50 year old acid. We finished our lunch and parted.

On the boat ride home, it struck me that his tale was an allegory for all the folks who want to step outside their comfort zones but fear the consequences. Like the woman who gets a passport dreaming of international travel that never happens. The very fact that he held on to those cubes all these years, thinking “maybe someday”, spoke volumes.

Most folks live in their comfort zones. It’s safe and familiar there – nothing out of the ordinary or surprising is likely to happen there. The people are well known; the same routines bring a sense of order. You obey all the rules, stick with the foods you like and don’t talk to strangers. You are the embodiment of “risk-averse”. A great adventure means a guided tour or cruise to see the well known sites that everyone else sees.

Some folks have no wish or desire to leave the comfort zone. They are quite content with the normal, the familiar and their established patterns of living. They always color within the lines and stay planted right in the center of the zone, feeling no desire for anything more, except more of the same. And I respect that. It’s probably the right place for them.

At the other end of the spectrum are the adventurers and explorers, who shudder at the prospect of staying safe at home. We welcome the new sights and sounds and foods and people and experiences with open arms. We’ll start a conversation with anyone who comes our way, and say “yes” whenever possible. Instead of dipping toes in the water, we jump in the deep end. I often wonder if it is a genetic thing – maybe we lack some gene for fear or inhibition. Maybe it’s an addiction. I do know that once you start to leave the comfort zone, it’s hard to return. I would add that there is risk. Some excursions will end in failure – Lord knows some of mine have.

Then there are others, like the gentleman I met and the lady with the passport, who gaze outward from the comfort zone with longing – wanting dearly to step outside, but constrained by fear, inhibition, peer pressure or inertia. Or all of the above. To this group, I offer the advice of Nike - “Just Do It”. The rewards and satisfactions can be enormous. Maybe try some small steps outside the comfort zone, dipping toes in the water. The deep end is not for everyone. But, please don’t live a life of regretting the things you didn’t do. Don’t think you are too small or too weak. This IS the show. It’s not a dress rehearsal.

That was the advice I gave to my British friend. Chances are, those 3 cubes are still resting quietly inside the tin. But maybe, just maybe, you saw a large white object shooting across the Southern sky last night, signaling an awakened and revised consciousness. Maybe the tin is empty.

The Miracle of Communication

The human is an extraordinary creature, of that there can be no doubt. We can tame a wilderness and erect giant skyscrapers; cross vast oceans and even travel through the air and into space. Or ability to adapt to any harsh environment is rivaled only by the cockroach, infesting every corner of the Earth.

Perhaps our most fundamental ability, and the one which contributed to all the above feats, is our ability to communicate. The fact that we can make certain noises with our throats and mouths, which are heard and understood by others of our species; or that we can make symbols which are similarly understood, is something of a unique and miraculous gift.

While some other species do exhibit crude forms of what might be called communication, none have taken it to the heights that we humans have. Indeed, our ability is not limited to calls of warning or mating, but allows communication of our desires and dreams. From ancient times, story-tellers have conjured entire scenes in the minds of their audiences.

Our communication does have its limits. Improper word choice or differences in perception can result in a “failure to communicate” that reaches far beyond the movie line. The other huge impediment to effective communication is its limitation to only those who share our language set. Even within a “common language”, regional dialects and usage can muddy the waters. In a world so tightly connected by the internet, it seems ironic that we can’t agree on a common language.

Translators and other multi-lingual folks can help bridge the language gaps, and to them we owe a large debt of thanks. The advancing technology of electronic translators, coupled with AI may help, but will likely never grasp the subtilties of precise communication.

The Chamber Pot

In Piriati yesterday, I saw a woman carry a bucket out to her latrine and dump the contents inside. Not wanting to embarrass her, I asked my friend Jonathon if this was common practice. I was surprised to learn that it is VERY common practice – I’ve just never noticed it before. He says NOBODY goes to the latrine after dark. EVER. He seemed amazed that I didn’t know this after living in the 3^rd world for 6 years. Truth is – I’ve never had to use a latrine the whole time outside the US. I’ve always lived in a house with flush toilets – In San Luis, Lima and here in Torti. And none of the Volunteers who used a latrine ever mentioned it.

My powers of perception duly chastised , being a Water & Sanitation guy, I decided to investigate the chamber pot and here’s what I found:

As a prelude to the toilet, the chamber pot has a long and noble history. We know that they have been used since 600 BC by the Greeks. They remain in common use in many parts of rural China and the Philippines (and other 3^rd World countries) today and are frequently given as wedding presents to assure the couple’s good luck. The device has gone by many names in English, to wit – jordan,  jerry,  guzunder, potty, or thunder pot. It was also known as a chamber utensil or bedroom ware. In Spanish, the simple “cubo” (bucket suffices.

Whatever the name, the concept and purpose is simple. It provides a convenient, indoor receptacle for human bodily waste, which can then be removed to a more suitable disposal site. In a wealthier home, it would be removed on demand by a “chamber maid”, who discretely covered it with a cloth or its own lid and carried it away. In the upscale parts of cities, the pots were stacked in the alley, awaiting the morning arrival of the Chamber wagon or Sweet wagon (possibly the origin of the modern “Honey Wagon”). In less opulent parts of town, the pots were simply emptied into the street gutter, where they joined horse manure and other waste. In rural settings they were carried to the cesspool or deposited in the outhouse.

The Chamber Pot came in all sorts. For the wealthy, they were elaborate porcelain affairs with matching tops, often set below an ornate chair with a large hole in the seat. For the less fortunate, they were a simple ceramic bowl, often with a convenient handle. The poor often used whatever cooking or mixing pot was available from the kitchen. Thus the expression “He doesn’t have a proper pot to piss in”.

There were even songs about the infamous pot, such as this British ditty:

“Well, I took the crayfish home, and I thought he'd like a swim
So I filled up the chamber pot, and I threw the bugger in
In the middle of the night, I thought I'd have a fit
When my old lady got up to a-have a shit”
Husband, husband, she cried out to me
The devil's in the chamber pot, and he's got hold of me

Children, children, bring the looking glass
Come and see the crayfish that bit your mother's arse
Children, children, did you hear the grunt
Come and see the crayfish that bit your mother's cunt
It's the ending of my story; I don't have any more
I've an apple in my pocket, and you can have the core

Although, now that I think of it, I did use a cup or bottle on occasion to avoid the long hike to the basement bathroom in Witherspoon Hall late at night.

Teaching

I’ve always been good at learning. But teaching is another matter entirely. It has come to me slowly. Very slowly. And not easily or naturally. My latest teaching effort has been training the Bano users in how to use and maintain the composting toilets. When I started in the teaching game, I probably would have tried to have one mass meeting of all the users, show them a slick PowerPoint and call it a day. That might work, if my class was made up of US college students. But, it just wouldn’t cut the mustard in the 3^rd world.

To begin with, these folks are not professional students, like in the US. They do not like to go to “class” and sit and listen. And getting all of them in the same place at the same time ?? Well, good luck with that. And not everyone here can read. Most of the children can. But, the older folks never went to government schools in Spanish. Most can speak it, but few can read or write it.

So, I’ve made my approach more personal, graphic and engaging. I go house to house, family by family. I hand out an illustrated set of instructions, we inspect the Bano unit together, to make sure everything is right and then I demonstrate, using all the materials they will use, in real time, just how to use it. I also try to explain the reasons for each step without getting too technical. Then, I have them show me exactly how they will use the Bano, step by step – a very small bit of “muscle memory”, but important that they touch and feel all the parts. I speak slowly and clearly, since Spanish is a second language for most of these folks. And for me.

This process is  S L O W ,( especially when I chat with the folks or share a banana or mango), but seems to work well. I’ve had folks tell me that they were afraid to start using their toilets, but now feel very comfortable. The other interesting note is the issue of tissue (toilet paper). Folks who have been to visit houses with indoor flush toilets have seen a bucket or basket, in which one places the used TP. Sounds pretty gross, I know, but there was a reason – many older toilets in central and south America used a 2” drain line, with hard 90 degree corners instead of sweeps. A wad of TP, like I’ve seen some women (you know who you are) use can clog the pipe in seconds. I say “was a reason” since most of those lines have been replaced with 3” or 4” with sweeping corners, instead of hard 90s. The point is that the Ipeti folks thought that since they now had a sit-down toilet, they should collect the used TP in a bucket. They seem quite relieved when I explain that the TP is actually good for the compost system, so no need for the smelly bucket.

Stuff in Space

There are an extraordinary number of man-made objects spinning around the Earth. Some raw numbers: 1144 active satellites (over half for the US) and another 2600+ inoperative ones. In addition, there are an estimated 21,000 pieces of large (> 4”) and another 500,000 or so bits between ¼’ and 4”.

All this stuff makes navigation through our near space quite a challenge. Every new launch must find its way through this mine field with data supplied by the United States Space Surveillance Agency. Indeed, the Space Station frequently changes its orbit to avoid collisions.

For a wonderful graphic interactive image of the satellites currently in orbit in real time – you can zoom in and out and change the plane of view – see:

http://stuffin.space/

Sports Fans

Maybe it’s genetic – I can’t recall any family members expressing any interest in professional sports. But, my aversion to pro sports and especially to its rabid devotees became conscious and full-blown during my three years of law school in Washington, DC. During football season, the mood of the entire city seemed solely dependant upon the performance of the Redskins. A win brought smiles and cheery Hellos – a loss meant a nasty, snarling populace.

Either way, the talk was all about how well or poorly “we” had played, or how “my” players had performed. Mind you, none of these folks were players, coaches or owners of the Redskins. This level of empathy and vicarious participation simply baffles me. And when it raises itself to physical violence against the respectively rabid fans of the opposing teams, it seems time for some serious reflection on insanity of it all.

And then there is the financial side of the fan equation. In the US, we spend about $400 billion a year on pro sports tickets, advertising, paraphernalia and concessions. That’s a lot of money to watch a small group of (admittedly superb) athletes play games.

Now, I’ve got nothing against playing sport games. It’s wonderful for the mind and body. Everyone who is physically able should play and everyone can play at some sport or another – for their entire life, if possible. Supporting and cheering those at the high school level is likely a good thing. Especially since the use of “my” and “our” is more appropriate when it’s your kids or friends on the team.

How about being “fan”atical about appreciating this amazing planet and supporting and cheering for its inhabitants ? Or becoming a fan of kindness, generosity and caring ? That’s something I can CHEER about.

Social Security Rant

OK, my fellow 65+ friends, gather round and let’s look at Social Security for a minute or two.

This venerable program, designed to keep seniors from poverty, has been working quite well for many years, thanks, in part, to several tweaks along the way. But, it has been headed for a disastrous collision with a large hard wall for some time now. As of 2015, the system still took in more than it paid out, by about $23B. But, as more Baby Boomers move onto the rolls, payments will start to exceed revenue. This year of 2016 will likely see the first of an escalating Social Security deficit. The demographic and economic forecasts estimate that the reserve (now about $2.7 Trillion) will be exhausted in 2034, at which time benefits will have to be reduced by about 25% across the board.

Unless Congress starts to apply the brakes before the collision happens. And the sooner, the better.

There are many ways to avoid a crunch, but the simplest is to raise the cap (now $118.5K) on Social Security withholding. To simply lift the cap and withhold on all earned income would generate about $100B additional revenue. This would instantly MORE than erase any deficit and would allow for about a 50-60% increase in benefits. Other options are to lift the cap to $200K or keep the cap where it is and apply the withholding tax on income over $250K (Bernie Sanders plan). Either one yields an extra $50B revenue, which doesn’t stop the deficit, but slows the depletion enough to get us past the “Boomer Hump” and make Social Security solvent in perpetuity and even allow a modest 10-15% benefit increase.

Of course, the wealthy are opposed to any of this and the GOP (and surprisingly Obama) have put forth ways to “close the gap” by cutting benefits instead. None of these plans would generate enough income to avoid the crunch, just postpone it a few years. And they would put an onerous burden on the millions of seniors who rely on that monthly benefit.

So, please contact your representatives in Congress and let them know that this is a problem that needs to be fixed. And fixed soon. You might even suggest, from the list above, how you’d like this done. In case they haven’t done their homework.

One more thing : Just ignore all those ridiculous internet memes about how the Fund has been “stolen”. The Fund is invested in Priority Treasury Bills, now paying about 3.4% interest. Perhaps the safest investment on the planet.

In addition to lifting or modifying the SS withholding cap, which is clearly the simplest and most effective way to solve the looming SS “gap”, other plans have been proposed to make the SS system more financially sound and avoid a benefits crisis in 2034.

One plan calls for a means test to receive benefits. The concept seems fair enough – SS was meant to keep elders from poverty, not provide pin-money to millionaires. So, those retirees with large incomes would be denied SS benefits. The most common numbers that I have seen proposed would start cutting benefits if income is over $100K/yr and eliminates SS benefits totally if income exceeded $200K. These proposals usually also include a test for assets, beginning at $1.5M and eliminating benefits if the retiree owns more than $3M in assets. These figures roughly correspond to the amounts needed to purchase an income annuity of the respective amounts. Estimates are that this would save SS about $7B per year – a drop in the bucket compared to the $50B to $100B of modifying the withholding cap.

There are two other problems with this plan. One is that enforcement and administration of the means test would likely wipe out any savings, if the costs were anything like the cost of disability administration. Although clever estate lawyers and accountants would love the extra business created.

The other is that the wealthy would likely cry foul, not realizing that SS is an insurance plan, not an investment.

The other plan, put forth by the GOP and their banker backers, is to give the SS recipient the option of converting their expected benefits into a lump sum payment. Sort of like the JG Wentworth or PeachTree offers. Aside from the fact that this would in NO WAY save SS any money, it defeats the whole purpose of the SS program – to ensure that seniors are not destitute, with no income source. Once the beneficiary has taken their lump sum, the Wall Street vultures would descend, putting that sum at risk in the market. You can just imagine the drooling that goes on when looking at $2.7 TRILLION in assets that they could make money off of !!  Moreover, that lump sum would not be all that large. The average lump sum would be around $160K and the maximum would be about $400K. Sounds tempting, but the results could be individually devastating. And the Banksters would LOVE it !!

No, better to just lift the cap, which would also allow for a 50% to 60% increase in benefits, or go with Bernie Sanders’ more modest plan, which would avoid a 2034 benefits crisis and maybe a 5-10% raise in benefits.

The time to do this is NOW !! Urge your representatives in Congress to either pass Bernie’s bill or lift the cap completely. Or maybe wait until after the election.

For more detailed and really tiring language on the subject, click the link below.

https://www.ssa.gov/policy/docs/ssb/v70n3/v70n3p111.html

Soap, Detergents and Other Surfactants

I’m dishing up some dirt here on soaps and detergents, more properly called surfactants – more specifically on our (American) over-use of these products.

Let’s start with laundry detergent. According to one source, we use on average about 40% more than we need to. This is in part due to the American sentiment that “more is always better”, which extends to our pesticides, fertilizers and so many other products.

Here’s a shocker to most folks : Soap and detergent do not clean anything. It is the water that does the actual cleaning. Yep, good old H2O is the best dirt cleaner on the planet. The problem is that the water molecule has a surface tension, which normally makes it hard for the molecule to combine with grime and wash it away. That is where surfactants come on. As the name implies, they break the surface tension of water and allow it to more readily sweep the dirt away. That’s the science in a nutshell. But, as usual, I digress.

Another recent development in detergent overuse is the advent of more concentrated laundry products. These certainly make sense, as there is little point in shipping the extra water hither and yon. But, many consumers fail to make the quantitative shift and end up overdosing their laundry. In theory, you would want to use just enough surfactant (detergent) to break the tension of every water molecule in the load. Unless you are a skilled chemist, that is near impossible, given the addition of other factors, like water hardness. So, the manufacturers give you instructions which err on the high side, which also boosts their sales. Even then, many subscribers to the “more is better” school will add even more. At some point, the detergent itself become difficult to remove from the wash. This leads to dingy looking laundry, scum buildup inside the machine and lots more wasted detergent flowing out the drain hose.

So, read the dosing instructions. Trust the manufacturers’ extensive testing. Don’t over-use. If anything, you might slightly UNDER-use, unless your clothes are really badly soiled.

The same sort of overuse is common when it comes to water temperature. The common wisdom is that hot water is best. Simply not true, unless you use water with a temperature near boiling (200F), which will be slightly more effective at germ killing, but do nothing for cleaning power when using modern detergents.

The same logic applies to hair shampoo. If you use enough to create that advertising ideal of a thick lather, you used too much. It is all that EXCESS surfactant that has no water to surfact and instead turns to useless foam. Good for selling shampoo, but a waste of money and a burden on the waste water treatment folks.

This raises yet another digression about shampoo. The product itself is VERY cheap to produce. The basic ingredients sell for around $50 for a 55 gallon drum. In fact, the packaging likely costs more than the product. Read the labels and you’ll find that all shampoos share the same base – mostly water, with good old Sodium Lauryl Sulfate or Sodium Laureth Sulfate, and a splash of a co-surfactant, usually cocamidopropyl betaine . Your special brand may add some exotic ingredients and magic potions, but at its core, it’s all the same to some degree.

So, how do the manufacturers get us to pay $50 a bottle for a $2 product? ADVERTISING. Some of the cleverest advertising has surrounded shampoos for a long time. I was witness to one of the best shampoo scams of all time : Many youngsters may not know or remember this, but back in the day (before 1970), most men washed their hair with bar soap. Oh, a few maybe borrowed their mother’s or girlfriend’s shampoo, but that was considered a feminine product, not for manly men. Enter some marketing geniuses at Pantene. They figured out that if they made a shampoo “for men” that they could boost sales and create a whole new market. Which is just what they did – took their regular shampoo, changed the fragrance to a more “manly scent” and sold the living daylights out of it. When I was on the Esquire 10 Best Dressed list, Pantene offered us samples of the original stuff and asked our opinion. After using the shampoo, which left no soapy residue, we all agreed that we would certainly buy the stuff, even at the greatly increased price over bar soap. And that “squeaky clean” sound that advertisers touted? Yeah, that’s the sound hair makes when it’s been stripped of all its natural oils.

And don’t even get me started on “body shampoos”. Unless you are a steelworker or car mechanic, your body, covered in clothes, just doesn’t get dirty enough to justify an attack with soap. All it does is remove your natural oils and require the use of yet more consumer moisturizing products. A nice water rinse and toweling should get you quite clean. If you want further punishment, use an anti-bacterial soap and kill off all the good bacteria on your skin, allowing the smelly bad guys to take over and the need for even MORE consumer “smell good” products. I’ll leave it at that.

Perhaps the most ridiculous overuse of soapy surfactants is shaving cream. It is mostly useless. The claim that it “softens” the beard (or other unwanted hair), is pure Balderdash. Water softens the beard. A 3 minute soak in the shower is usually enough for the water to penetrate the hair, all by itself. All shaving crème does is accelerate that process by (as we all know by now) breaking the water surface tension. Even if shaving crème, which is just another soap, is used, a thin coating is all that is required. A 1” thick coating, as seen in most commercials, sells more product but does nothing except get in the shavers’ way. For those who don’t shower before shaving, just washing the face with soap and water and leaving the water to set a spell will yield superlative results. Duped again by those insidiously clever admen.

So, save yourself some money and put less waste in the environment by using soaps, detergents and other surfactants SPARINGLY. “More is better” applies to ice cream, but not to soap.

The Agitation Amendment : While surfactants break water tension chemically, there is a more brutal and physical way to do it – agitation. If you hit the water molecule hard enough, just like a water balloon, it will open up and flush the dirt and grime away. You’ve seen this reaction when you make mayonnaise or shake vinegar and oil into an emulsion. This is part of the reason to use less detergent in High Efficiency washers. Primitive cultures know this and “beat” clothes to wash without detergent. Probably not recommended for your Victoria’s Secret collection, however.