Auto Emissions

Who could have ever predicted the demise, or nearly so, of Chrysler and General Motors? An easier prediction, in light of those failures, is a complete, or nearly so, revamping of the US auto manufacturing industry. What an opportunity to introduce some new technology. Auto emissions are a hot topic today (no pun intended) what with global warming, but I think we should also address another emission that, so far, has escaped scrutiny: noise.

Horns have been standard equipment on cars since the days of Henry Ford and there was a time when they served an useful purpose. But that time has gone. The “time” I mention had no drivers with cell phones or ipods nor cars with deluxe sound systems. Yesterday’s driver would give the horn a honk when pulling up to the curb so as to alert any would-be passenger. Today’s hi-tech automotive operators wouldn’t be caught dead without a way to call or text ahead and announce their impending arrival.

In today’s world, we need the horn for the express purpose of alerting others to our impending arrival into their bumper or side panel or (god forbid) windshield. We push the appropriate portion of our steering wheel, the appropriate klaxon blares into space, but the signal is rarely received because most drivers are rocking out to the latest tunes on their 8 speaker, maxi-bass, entertainment system better suited for the Hollywood Bowl. The only folks receiving the alert are pedestrians and the poor bastards with no sound system, air conditioning, or other buffer keeping the outside world at bay. While members of these two groups may well benefit from the blaring of the horn, they are both endangered species and will soon die out, regardless, so why further delay an inevitable extinction?

OK, we won’t cull out those folks, but how about this: we limit the scope of the good old car horn. If the car is stopped, you can get but one little beep out of the thing to politely alert the driver in front of you that the light has turned green or something similar. If the car is moving, a slight increase is warranted in both volume and duration so we can all beep-beep when we leave the latest family reunion or similar scene of good fellowship and frivolity. Anything louder is dependent solely upon the amount of braking action being applied. As brake pressure increases so does the volume of our not-so-distant early warning system. And, when the brakes are released, the screech of the horn disappears right along with the screech of the tires. All of a sudden, we’ve quieted our city streets and made a leisurely stroll more enjoyable. Of course, pissed off drivers must now find a new button to push in order to release their inner tension.

But let’s not stop there: while we’re at it, let’s put a sensor on the exterior of our “cars of the future” that monitors the level of music coming from the interior of the vehicle. This little wonder will modulate the volume (and, most importantly, bass) of our aforementioned sound systems when their emanations start to echo beyond the confines of the passenger compartment. We can now pull up to another car at an intersection confident in the knowledge that we will not be assaulted by random woofers and tweeters.

Small problems, you might think, as you mull over my proposition in the quiet of your home, or bath, or bathroom. But re-mull the next time you’re out in the real world surrounded by a million of your closest friends. Wouldn’t it be a nicer place without the never-ending blare? I think so.

Bigger...but Better?

Last Tuesday evening found me in New York City. Being a life-long Yankees fan, I thought it a great opportunity to take in a game and see the new, improved Yankee Stadium. I’ll return to touch this base, but let’s first look at the larger picture.

There seems to be an unwritten rule that dictates recurring events are not desirable without yearly increases in size, spectacularity, or participation. It doesn’t matter whether we’re talking about the local county fair or the Super Bowl: if this year’s ain’t bigger than last year’s, it ain’t better. ABC News reported last week that Brockton, MA cancelled it’s annual Memorial Day Parade for lack of funds. The next day they followed up with a story that reported the town had a change of heart (in response to an overwhelming cry of dismay) and would, indeed, proceed with the parade, albeit in a scaled-down version. The”scaling down” apparently revolved around the decision to forego a paid, big-time marching band and allow the local high school band to enjoy top billing.

Why would any town in America eschew local participants in favor of out of town, paid performers? Bigger and better, that’s why. Small town celebrations, regardless of the holiday or reason, are attractive because they care not about bigger and better. They concentrate on community and consistency. The crowds grow bigger over time due to that very fact. Specific acts may come and go, but the overall theme survives and that is a good thing.

How about Christmas? Now here is a great holiday, regardless of your religious affiliation. Gifts, food, drink, flashing lights: it’s got something for everyone. When I was a kid we’d wait not for Thanksgiving, but for the day after Thanksgiving because that’s when the Christmas season began. Literally overnight, the stores would pull out their Christmas displays and the buying spree would begin on the fourth Friday of November. The street decorations would go up earlier, of course, but nothing was turned on until the appropriate evening following the appropriate day. This was a hectic and happy period. Hectic because we had roughly five weeks to get all of our shopping and cooking done and happy because we knew that, by the end of that five weeks, we’d be more than ready to start our New Year’s diets and such while putting away the Christmas decorations for another eleven months.

Not any more, folks. The day after this year’s Christmas represents the first day of shopping for next year’s Christmas! Is it any wonder that we’re way beyond burned out by the time December 25th rolls around? Most of us are saying, “Jesus Christ, can I rest now?” with no pun intended. We’re beat, broke, and bent on avoiding the same maelstrom next year, but the powers that be conspire to defeat us before we’re out of the starting gate. Marketers start up their after-holiday sales pitches at one minute past midnight on December 26th and it’s all downhill from there.

Presidential politics is falling into the same trap by expanding the primary process to a point where it could well take four years to conduct a campaign that once involved only several months. In the 2008 election, two states (Florida and Michigan) were so bent on being the first on their block with a primary that they violated party guidelines, timing-wise, and created a hullabaloo over the status of their delegates. Without the appropriate respite between the slinging of barbs, accusations, and mud is there any wonder why voters shun the polls when election day finally rolls around?

No, “bigger and better” or “new and improved” are nothing more than marketing schemes aimed at roping in more money while delivering less. To buy into this ever-increasing philosophy invites eventual disappointment and the longing for simpler times. The one exception may involve the “enhancement” of specific parts of the male and female anatomy and I’d say that discussion is better left for another venue.

So let’s return for a moment to Yankee Stadium: it is a glorious place with state of the art electronics, more comfortable seating, and almost unlimited choices of sustenance and libation. My seat in the second deck (just outside first base) was $95. A burger, fries, and a beer was $25. New and improved doesn’t come cheap, you know. They kept the dimensions of the old stadium and tried to duplicate the theme, succeeding to a large degree. It is a smaller, but more comfortable stadium and includes, of course, luxury boxes absent from it’s predecessor. But is it better? That is a relative term to be decided upon by the individual. It is different and that is not necessarily a bad thing. Those of us that have lived long enough to see the comings and goings of hallowed locations are the only ones who notice the change. Younger eyes and minds will have to wait their turn to bid adieu to old standards while welcoming the new, bigger, and (hopefully) better.

A-mazed

The federal government has long suffered from the reputation of being too big, too slow, and too ineffective. Far be it for me to argue many of those points. I wonder, though, if the reputation is attached more to the particular entity instead of the trait it shares with many other organizations we deal with: bureaucracy.

We’ve all seen the rat in the maze as it desperately seeks out the cheese awaiting after a successful maneuvering through the labyrinth. And I’d say we’ve all felt the same way in trying to find the right person to answer our questions or concerns. Almost impossible, isn’t it? And it matters not whether we deal with a government agency or a corporate counterpart ensconced in layers of departments, divisions, and districts. The question arises whether these hierarchic obstacles are intentional or unintended consequences, but, regardless, they do not serve the customer near as well as they serve their own purposes. A few cases in point:

Homeless people in New York City will soon be faced with the requirement to pay rent at shelters where the stay was, historically, free. The city says it is merely following the orders of the state. The state says it is merely following the orders of the courts. And there you have the perfect bureaucratic storm: three different entities, leaving each to point to the other two. (You see, what with only two arms, we can point you, the customer/complainant in two different directions simultaneously. Three becomes cumbersome.)

Extended airline ground delays have created a call for a Passengers’ Bill of Rights. Once again, there are three parties involved: airports, airlines, and the air traffic control system. The airports blame the controllers and the airlines. The controllers blame the airports and airlines. And, you guessed it, the airlines blame the controllers and the airports. See what I mean? Anyone seeking answers soon becomes dismayed and disoriented in this never-ending blame game and surrenders long before satisfaction is achieved.

Looking for those that authorized torture in Gitmo and elsewhere? Good luck, because the same dead-ends and constant twists and turns that we see in the maze will wear us down long before any definitive conclusion is reached. Anyone involved will earnestly point in another direction and, in this case, there is no lack of suspects so the public will grow weary long before any indictments are handed down.

Here’s one with a slightly different slant: the recent investigation into the Colgan Air crash in Buffalo, NY has brought about a cry for a change in the work rules and pay provided to regional air carrier pilots. The cry comes from the public and the National Transportation Safety Board (NTSB) and is directed at the FAA who writes such regulations. The NTSB, unfortunately, has no power to alter existing or introduce new regulations. That is the FAA’s job. The FAA has another job: to promote the air travel industry. So now, when such changes are considered, the airline industry lines up outside the FAA’s door and cries that they will go broke under such onerous demands. And the FAA is screwed (along with everybody else) because they cannot address safety while ensuring a profitable air carrier industry. So, generally, they do nothing.

Granted, my examples all fall somewhere within a governmental system, but think of your dealings with those whom you do regular business. “Oh, that’s not my department” or, “The person you need to talk to is out right now” or, “It’s out of my hands”. You name it, we’ve heard it. The bureaucracy successfully wards off the questioners, investigators, and prosecutors while protecting the precious status quo that is it’s life blood.

“So what’s the use?” you ask. A good question, perhaps, and I am hard pressed to provide a meaningful solution. To do nothing, though...to shrug and walk away serves only to embolden those that would favor obfuscation over simplicity. Keep looking for that responsible nabob who is wreaking havoc in your life. In so doing you’ll send a message that someone is paying attention.

One last thought: we are hearing alot about “transparency” as an answer to our confusion. This is supposed to provide everyone a closer look at the goings-on within any bureaucracy. While that may be true, it does nothing to address the circuitous routes and endless u-turns found in the aforementioned rat maze. So what we now have is a maze whose walls are clear rather than opaque: we can see the cheese, but we are no closer to our nibble than before. Feel any better?

She's Gone...

The time had come: she had to move on to someone who would put her through her paces. She had been loyal to me for 12 years. If anyone was guilty of abuse, it was me. But she took it in stride and never struck back. Regardless, our time was over and this chapter was closing.

My wife? Are you crazy? “She” is a 1997 Christen Eagle II: a two-seat aerobatic biplane.

We bought her new and I have enjoyed her for the past dozen years. I’m not here today to boor you with the details of my decision. Rather, I am here to illustrate how the closing of chapters in our lives is a natural occurrence and should not be avoided or delayed unnecessarily.

We see it everyday in various forms. Probably the most common is the aging athlete who refuses to retire. I’ll not mention names, but you know who I’m talking about. Look at other facets of our society and you’ll find similar cases of hanging on to a job or possession long after the time has come to move on. Regardless, many of us keep on keepin’ in the name of competitiveness and what-not. I’d say the truth lies somewhere closer to the inability (or unwillingness) to accept the facts of aging, growing, and changing priorities. “Sell my Harley? Are you nuts? They’ll think I’ve lost my edge and turned into a wimp. No, I don’t ride it anymore, but what does that have to do with it?” Or, “I’d quit, but they need me.”

The closing of chapters is not easy nor does it occur without soul searching and angst. The mind usually leads the way to the inevitable conclusion and awaits the arrival of the heart. But these exercises result in getting to know ourselves better and maybe becoming more comfortable with ourselves at the same time. No one expects you to be the same person you were at 21...why should you?

I’ve had many chapters in my life and some I’ve left behind: an Air Force stint of 20 years (well worth the effort, but rarely missed), 27 years of football officiating (I miss the field, but not the preparation), and now the sale of an airplane I have cherished and will eternally miss. These passages do nothing to diminish me, but simply represent a point of diminishing returns. That which is left behind is better served in other hands.

We all like to think that our contributions to any group effort will be missed when we leave. Think back to the times when co-workers have departed. Did you experience separation anxiety? I doubt it. No, the corporate machinery continued to grind on. Someone once told me that retirement is like pulling your hand out of a bucket of water: once your hand is out, there is no proof that it was ever there. Maybe that’s how it should be. Be assured, however, that such an experience awaits us all and it is up to each of us as to how we handle it. Do we resist and tarnish the entire exercise or smile warmly as we bid adieu? Passages are bittersweet, to be sure, but pave the way for other chapters in our lives.

It is a near certainty that, as you close a chapter, you will be asked, “What now?” Human nature being what it is, we seem to always need a goal, don’t we? For the time being, however, no new airplane is on my immediate horizon. My plate is currently full with other pursuits, but the time will come when I find a new “girl” who will turn my head with her lines and attributes. And a new chapter will begin. Such is the story of our lives.

Who's Next?

“Take two aspirin, go to bed, and call me in the morning.” Isn’t that the age-old advice given to folks by their friendly M.D.? Well, it once was, anyway. There’s a problem with its applicability in today’s world, though: a significant segment of our society has no doctor to call (due to no healthcare) nor a bed to crawl into (due to homelessness). There are many causes for these problems and we’ll explore a few, with your indulgence, in the following paragraphs.

Healthcare issues are generally addressed through one’s employer. It should come as no surprise that the current economic malaise has created a whole new group of unemployed worker bees as the unemployment rate flirts with 10%. It’s a safe bet that a good number of those folks had some sort of medical coverage, but are now without. Cobra and the like? Pretty expensive solutions, considering you’re out of work. And what about your pre-existing condition(s)? They’ll no longer be covered in any new plan you may find yourself affiliated with.

So now you’re out of work with no healthcare. The economy continues to swoon and, should you be fortunate enough to “own” your home, you find yourself upside-down, financially. Foreclosure is a definite possibility. And you renters are not much better off because your cash flow is substantially curtailed, too, and the prospect of homelessness becomes all too real.

OK, so now you’re out of work with no place to call home and no way to handle health issues that may now spring up due to less-than-desirable living conditions. A job (even if one can be found) becomes more difficult to land because many positions require an address on the application and you no longer can provide one. You have little or no money to prepare for an interview (clean clothes, well rested, showered and shaven) and find yourself in this ever tightening spiral that offers little or no hope of relief.

Now what? And therein lies the true challenge. We are now engaged in yet another debate on national healthcare. Should we find a way to provide such a benefit, companies of all kinds suddenly find it cheaper to bring on additional employees as benefit costs go down. Jobs create income that leads to the acquisition of suitable living quarters and pretty soon that spiral is unwinding a bit and the light at the end of the tunnel no longer resembles an oncoming train.

Simple, huh? Nope, no way, not on your life. Because now we become a socialist country with big government and that, my friends, must be avoided at all costs. Or so some would have you believe. Do I favor socialism or big government? No, nor do I believe the terms are interchangeable. And a bigger role of government in looking after the well being of its citizenry is warranted because, quite frankly, nothing else has worked. Will there be graft and waste and fraud? Of course. Name one organization or program that doesn’t suffer similarly at the hands of scalawags and connivers trying to get something for nothing. That is no reason to refrain from reaching out to the overriding majority who, but for the grace of something-or-other, go us. And will it be expensive? A relative term, because we’re all paying now in the form of higher insurance premiums (should we be fortunate enough to have coverage), higher consumer costs to cover those higher premiums for coverage supplied by employers, and the subsidization of “emergency room healthcare” provided to those who have no other choice than to wait until they are in dire straits and then proceed to the nearest ER. I’d like to think that, at the end of the day, we’d be spending a bit less, but have no doubt that we’d be getting a bigger bang for our buck.

Right about now, someone will rise with indignation and shout, “Let ‘em go out and take care of themselves like I’ve done all my life.” Let me tell you something, my friend: you are not so good or so smart or so omnipotent that you have succeeded on your own. You have had help and opportunity from countless sources and to disown their contribution is the height of elitism and snobbery regardless of what rung of the economic ladder you may occupy. No one...NO ONE...has made it on their own and to turn a blind eye on those that, for one reason or other, require some assistance from others enjoying a greater degree of success is a shameful act. We are the greatest country in the world and no man, woman, nor child should face a day without the availability of shelter and medical attention. That is not Republican, nor Democratic, nor socialist, nor liberal, nor conservative. It is humanitarian and we should all rush to crowd into that tent.

Charge It

Much hand-wringing is going on lately over the way credit card companies are currently abusing their clients with increased rates and service charges. I find this interesting, if not amusing, and offer the following thoughts on the subject:

The contract signed between the card issuer and the card holder is just that: a contract. And all contracts include various numbers, limitations, and fine print. That’s all well and good until we get to the “rates and fees are subject to change at any time” phrase which pretty much screws the card holder with no downside for the issuer. Tell me something: would you buy anything from anybody at any time that included this phrase? I sincerely doubt it. Buy a car on time (like most of us do) and then get a letter from the dealer saying their bottom line is suffering so your outstanding balance will be increased? Not on your life, but we’ve done that with the credit card companies and that has led us to our present predicament.

But the card issuers are swimming in red ink as more and more of their customers default on charges that can no longer be paid as jobs are lost and homes are foreclosed upon. So what can they do? They can call in their marker from the applications everyone signed and raise their rates and fees unilaterally. Maybe if they had been a little more conscientious in doling out their cards, they wouldn’t be in this mess, but with that caveat of unrestricted increases, where’s the risk?

The existing contract we all sign is crap, has been crap, and will continue to be crap until the above-mentioned phraseology is eliminated. The new, improved application would simply state the rate for purchases and a list of associated fees. And should the issuers want to change those rates, they can do so, but the new rate does not apply to old charges. Additionally, minimum payments and late fees remain unchanged because the charges were incurred under those understandings. This is called a Grandfather clause, of sorts, and has become all too rare in the marketplace.

When I became an officer in the Air Force, I was told that I had a substantial sum of money available to me through the GI Bill. I could use it for flight training, among other things, and there was no time limit for me to take advantage of this program. The GI Bill was a recruitment tool at the very least and provided a means to a furthering of education for members of the armed forces. At some point further down the road (circa early 1980’s), the rules were changed and now we had to use up our allotted funds before a certain point in time. Everybody fell under this new mandate: old farts to young pups barely out of boot camp. And it wasn’t right or fair. Absent a Grandfather clause, I lost a good bit of what was earlier promised to me.

So now the government is expecting credit card companies to act in a manner the government has been unwilling to adopt. Nothing new in the “do as I say, not as I do” expectation, but it still strikes me as the quintessential irony. While I applaud the long overdue recognition of a wildly unbalanced contractual item, I wonder if there is something you and I can do on our own to stymie those that offer plastic as a panacea.

How about tearing up your credit card? No, not a cold-turkey kind of thing, but a “taking-your-business elsewhere” statement that deprives a bad business partner of your future business. This is called supply and demand and, should our demand for a fairer agreement (that includes a Grandfather clause) become loud enough, one can bet that there will be a credit card company offering such a vehicle. In the meantime, keep in mind that we all signed this deal and should expect to abide by it. Let’s just vow to avoid making the same mistake in the future, OK?

Read All About It...or not

Breaking with institutions of the past is not an easy task, but I’ve recently bid a semi-farewell to a veritable icon in my life: my daily newspaper. A semi-farewell because I couldn’t go cold turkey and am still receiving my Friday through Sunday papers. More on that later...

For the past nine years, the Sacramento Bee has provided my daily dose of current events as it represented the nearest major community. The Bee has been in print since 1857 and is the flagship paper of the McClatchey Company. Several years ago McClatchey bought Knight-Ridder which was the second largest chain of newspaper companies. In the ensuing three years, or so, McClatchey has divested more than a few of the Knight-Ridder publications while seeing it’s stock price plummet. The economy has gone south, too, resulting in lower advertising revenues for the Bee and they have reacted by slashing staff and the size of their product. It goes without saying that their subscription rates have remained constant.

I don’t mean to pick on the Bee; many papers around the country are experiencing similar obstacles and dealing with them in similar fashion. I’m reminded of the Air Force Officers’ Club quandary of the 80’s: It seemed the O clubs were, by and large, losing money to off-base competitors. Their solution to this problem revolved around the reduction of services combined with an increase in menu prices and dues. You needn’t have an MBA to figure out this plan only accelerated the exodus of once-loyal patrons. Today, most Air Force bases have all-ranks clubs in lieu of the past NCO and Officer club mainstays.

I fear the newspaper industry is responding to their financial crisis in the same way which will, accordingly, only serve to accelerate the move to other, more timely, sources of information. Are there other choices to escape this dilemma? I’d think so, but they’re not so quick and easy as firings and smaller editions. National news could well be covered by centralized news bureaus and papers could cover local news utilizing a smaller staff concerned with this smaller scope of coverage. Yesterday’s stock prices could disappear altogether since more up-to-date data is available for investors. And the obituaries need to pass on along with those within that section. I find it hard to believe that anyone hears of a recent passing from the obit pages, what with speedier forms of communication commonplace.

It is vitally important to keep the local newspaper available and pertinent. But to simply remove content will not win the day. Bold, outside-the-box thinking will be needed to ensure a vigilant eye is kept on those that would otherwise be inclined to abuse their power. Local reporting has historically kept the proverbial finger on the pulse of goings-on that escape the radar of national news organizations and it is ever so important to maintain that level of attention. So why did I cancel my paper?

Well, it occurred to me that the time required to digest the morning paper was less than the time required to eat my breakfast. Many of the articles were re-hashes of stories I had already learned of through other avenues. And local, Sacramento stories had minimal impact on me due to my remote location. The bang for my buck was noticeably smaller and I got to the point where the minuses outnumbered the plusses. Additionally, I only enjoy about three comic strips anymore and I can find them online. But the New York Times Crosswords of Friday - Sunday are my favorites and I’m not ready to abandon them. Hence, my decision to keep the weekend paper in my regimen. Time will tell as to which direction I’ll go from here: either a return to the daily paper or a complete cancellation. I wish to remain a connected, informed, thinking citizen and should the paper’s absence cause me to feel ostrich-like, I’ll re-up in a heartbeat.

I can tell you one thing, though: the lack of the morning paper has changed the morning routine. My wife and I have historically shared a silent nosh while reviewing the daily stories. Now we take our food of choice outside to our deck, enjoy a chat, and admire Mother Nature. Time better spent? Perhaps so. I’ll let you know when I know.