Waxing Pragmatic On A Thursday

My grasp of science is fairly basic, I am sure, but nonetheless I spent the day waxing pragmatic about science and those little, semi-invisible things we call atoms.  Now, I again want to assure you that I could not win the science edition of "Are You As Smart As A Fifth Grader." but here is what I was contemplating: the weight of an atom.  I know, what a weird thing for a historian to contemplate! But, think about it...an atom of carbon (a basic building block of the universe) is believed to weigh about  0.00000000000000000000019942 grams.  I do not claim to know what this number means, but it is way less than one millionth of a gram.  A standard size goose feather is a virtual monstrosity in comparison, weighing in at a whopping .00125 pounds.  In other words, it would take at least 1200 goose feathers to weigh one single pound.  Regarding atoms, I have no idea how many atoms would be needed to make one pound of "matter."  But I am thinking it would be quite a few...billion trillions!

Why was I waxing pragmatic about the weight of the atom?  Actually, I suppose the reason was that with age, I am getting more curious about so many things that I do not understand.  One thing that I am curious about, in a general sort of way, is the atom.  And the curious thing to me about the atom is that something that weighs far less than zero grams can somehow combine with other atoms to make another something that might weigh from less than one micro-gram to millions of pounds.  Whether we are looking at a glass of water or a battleship floating on the ocean, we still see two things made up of atoms...those small, nearly weightless things.  How can atoms on the one hand be wet and fun to swim in, and on the other, form a huge vessel that withstands both storms at sea and the hell of warfare.  Even the ground we walk on, our very own Earth, is made of atoms.

As I was reading a little about atoms just a day or two ago, I learned that as small as the atom is, the atom itself consists of 99.9 percent empty space.  Another curiosity, yes?  Just like with our universe, I believe.  There are many objects in the universe, yet it appears to me that the universe itself is 99.9 percent empty space.  It must be so, because of the many light years necessary to travel from earth to even the closest stars.  And I thought about something as common as a coffee table one might have in his or her living room.  This object is made up of many atoms...many universes?  All of these atoms are vibrating at super frequencies...meaning that solid objects are not solid at all.  Yet a given object feels solid, looks solid, and we humans believe the object is, literally, as solid as a rock!  Scientists tell us this is NOT the case, however.  The quantum physicist tell us that solid objects are just an illusion, that the reality in which we live is just our mind tricking us.  Who knows, maybe we humans need the illusion of solidarity to keep us "grounded." 

I did not reach any earth-shaking decisions or make any groundbreaking discoveries in my ruminations about the tiny building blocks of our universe, our planet, and of even of we humans ourselves.  Well, actually I did reach one.  The reality, my reality, is that I do not understand the mathematics of it all, the science behind it all.  I just know that as time goes on, I realize that I do not know very much at all.  And, given that all the things we see are just a collection of atoms spinning around each other, I guess it is true that nothing is really what it seems.  Thus, my Thursday...spent waxing pragmatic about important things in life, such as how much atoms weigh, and how many goose feathers are needed to make a pound of fluff.



 

The 14th Amendment Adopted Today In 1868

Today in 1868 the 14th Amendment to the United States Constitution was ratified by two-thirds of the States, after being passed in Congress in 1866.  The United States was still reeling from the death and devastation wrought by the Civil War, with emotions still high on both sides of the Mason-Dixon Line.  The South, where most of the fighting had taken place, had been divided into five regions under military occupation, and "reconstruction governments" were in place in the former Confederate states.  It was into this atmosphere of anger and grief that the 14th Amendment was born.

With the ratification of the 14th Amendment, all former slaves were granted citizenship.  This amendment also made it clear that all persons born in the United States or who were (legally) naturalized were citizens of the nation and of the state in which they resided.  But the 14th Amendment did one more very important thing.  This amendment re-iterated that all citizens were equal under the law, AND all were granted equal protection under the law.  Unfortunately, the law can be changed with the stroke of a pen; not so, the beliefs and prejudices of man.

Even after the advent of the 14th Amendment, discrimination and racism persisted, in the South, yes, but also in the North as well.  Public and private facilities in both areas of the nation adopted separate facilities for Whites and for "Coloreds."  Thirty years after the 14th Amendment was ratified, the United States Supreme Court upheld separatism in the landmark case Plessy V. Ferguson.  This (in)famous ruling was summarized with the glib slogan "separate but equal."  Of course stories told to us by older relatives, and maybe events witnessed by any of you who might be around my age, made it clear that while there were separate facilities, very rarely were the facilities "equal."  I know I can remember seeing the school in my town that was for the Black children, and it was a very poor building.  The books used at that school were old, worn out, and obsolete.  The "separate but equal" system prevailed until well after World War II, when, in 1954 (nearly a hundred years after the Civil War) another landmark case, Brown V. The Board of Education of Topeka, finally made all kinds of discrimination illegal, including "separate but equal" discrimination.

As we know, illegal discrimination continued into the turbulent decades of the 1960's and 1970's, but the 14th Amendment provided the framework for equality for all persons without the resort to another civil war.  And that change has not been peaceful, as various freedom fighters lost their lives over the years, paying for freedom with their own blood.  Many people paid for their freedom with physical injuries, some with their lives - and most unsung.  While we remember John F. Kennedy, Martin Luther King, Jr., Medgar Evers, Malcom X, and Robert Kennedy, there were so many others who also paid the ultimate price for attempting end discrimination.  Today we live in a more tolerant and less prejudiced society, but there is still room for improvement.  But full citizenship and equal rights for all, a grand idea, and hopefully to be realized one day, was guaranteed under the 14th Amendment - ratified today in 1868. 

Drought Continues, But The Weeds Are Bountiful

The drought for the Permian Basin area, including Midland, is still in full swing...Midland is three inches short of rain for the year, added to an average of three inches off for the past several years, and you have what is known as a "dry spell."  But...

In July, we have had rain on several occasions, although never in more than half-inch increments.  So we are still in the headlock of a major drought, along with much of the rest of the state.  Lakes are low all over the state, particularly in the south and west. Yet, with all of the drought, I STILL HAVE TO MOW THE YARD!!

That's right!  Even though we are in a severe water shortage, the light to medium rains scattered across July, along with the "inland hurricane" we experienced last month, have led to the greenest yard I have experienced here in some time.  My yard is, in fact, a lush, beautiful green with tall vegetation, attracting much wildlife - though not "wild animals," just several neighborhood cats, a tortoise, and a little skunk.

So my yard is beautiful and green, but...well, it reminds me of an old song played on Hee Haw (you youngsters can google Hee Haw if you want to know what that is) from time to time, which went "If it weren't for bad luck I'd have no luck at all..."  Just sing these words to the same tune: If it weren't for green weeds I'd have no yard at all...  But I do have a yard with so little grass that you can count the blades on two hands.  AND I NEED TO MOW!  The grass is at a very reasonable level, but the weeds, beautiful and green, are well over knee-high.  In fact the weeds are high enough to scare my lawn mower.

No, my friends, I have not put off mowing until the weeds finally grew tall.  In fact, I mowed only LAST WEEK.  But, with the scattered showers throughout July, the weeds apparently believe they are in Unwanted Plant Heaven, which is apparently located in my front and back yards.  In less than seven days the weeds have grown incredibly tall.  But there is one positive in all this: When I mow the tall weeds and reach down to one-inch lawn level, I always discover a bevy of lost tools and missing lawn-shoes.  Oh yeah, also mowing the jungle-thick vegetation invariably reveals many of Coleton's lost toys, and such.   Yes, mowing the yard becomes a veritable treasure hunt.

But...

I am left with one lingering question:  Why, if plants need water to thrive, do weeds thrive and triple-thrive, while the grass just gets smaller and browner?  Well, do not have time to ponder this most profound question...I have to put on my boots and get to the mowing!

Where have I been the past two weeks?  Very little blogging, to be sure.  But I have a good reason.  My little grand-nephew has been here for that length of time, thus I had very little time to devote to blogging or any of the other "intellectual pursuits" that I pursue.  But life with a seven-year-old visitor can be busy...so I offer no other excuse and do not feel badly about being too busy to blog.

Being busy is just part of having a visiting child in the home.  Another part is the drastic change in the television program line-up, especially during the morning hours.  I have relinquished the television (yes, we just have ONE television...and that is possibly ONE TOO MANY) to my nephew's whim (with guidance, of course). so I have bid a temporary goodbye to my usual shows such as Dateline, City Confidential, Disappeared, and many others of that mold.  Gone, too, are the scary, if not cheesy, sci-fi and "horror" flicks that I enjoy, but which are best not viewed by a young and impressionable child. 

Instead my daily repertoire now includes such intriguing shows as Wonder Pets, Transformer Rescue Team (or something like that), Jason and the Pirates (in Never Land with Captain Hook and Mr. Smee), and several other similar programs, the titles of which escape me at the moment.  In any case, the television is busy for a couple of hours a day with these wonderful kiddie shows.  I have to admit, the diversion from the real world afforded by these programs is actually quite welcome.  Plus, I have the added pleasure of "bugging" my little friend while he is trying to wholly concentrate on his cartoons.  You know, I sneak up and tickle him, ask him lots of questions about what we are watching, and generally "pester" him while he is in rapt concentration.

After a little while of watching the tube, I force my little charge to do other things, such as ride his bike, play outside, or even occasionally perform some little chore.  While he does not spend the entire day in front of the TV set, there have been several times in the past few days when the temperature hit the triple digits, and it was just too hot to send him outside for extended periods.  During the periods where he is indoors but has already watched his television allotment, I like to talk to him about his books and the things he has been reading about.  For instance, he acquired a nature book just the other day from a local book sales event.  From his reading, he was able to inform me that the Texas Great-Horned Lizard could  be found all over Texas, including Oklahoma, which is located in the northern part of Texas.  Somewhat surprised by this revelation, I mentioned to him that Oklahoma was in reality another state to our north.  No, he was positive...Oklahoma was a city somewhere in Texas, and "horny toads" live there just like in the rest of the state.  (Please, no one tell the Sooners they are a part of the great nation of Texas...let them stay in their blissful ignorance of this fact.  Such knowledge would only bring extra complications for them during upcoming college football season.)

My little charge loves to ride in Clancy, which is my Jeep (well, strictly speaking it is my lovely bride's Jeep, but I do most of the jeeping in it).  My own children were not that fond of Jeep rides as younger children, although nowadays they both like occasional short hops around town in it.  Coleman (nephew) told me that he wanted to ride in the Jeep one day as we were about to leave for work.  This particular day it was only 98 degrees, so the triple digit temperature threat had been dodged, although it was still somewhat warm outside.  I mentioned to Cole that it would be a long, hot ride to town, but he said he was up to it.  And he was!  He liked the noisy, windy ride very much. 
Being a smart young man for his age, he already knew that the air temperature would not feel as hot since we would be moving at a relatively fast clip.  You know, he was right.  The air felt not one degree hotter than 97 degrees!

This morning was another fun day with the nephew.  Oh, he has his moments when he wants to do other than what he is told, or takes a little longer to get things done than is actually necessary, but most of the day with him is a pleasant summer day.  I remember years ago when I was out of school for the summer and I would go to one relative or another for a few days or even two or three weeks.  There was a trade-off, though.  The days one is gone visiting relatives means that many fewer days one is at home to spend the school vacation with his friends.  Yesterday Cole realized this very thing.  So, I think some degree of home sickness is beginning to set in.  I know I missed Mom and Dad and the brothers after a few days away, and I missed the comfort of my old, familiar environment.  Visiting was fun, but it was a relief to finally get home.  I think Cole is in this stage of the trip now.

There are so many bad things going on in the world now, so many things going on in America that I do not like, and just different situations all across the board that could be better.  News stories can leave a person so stressed, just hearing all of the bad that is happening, all the fighting around the world, the various natural calamities that are befalling the world.  Yet with all of this, the Lord's blessing of children suddenly blots out all those maladies.  Children see the bright things happen, the happy things, the half-full glasses, that we as busy, worried adults sometimes overlook, what with all the hustle  and bustle of life, and all of the scary things that might befall us, according to the evening news.  I thank God for all the kids, and I am glad to have this one little man visiting for July and into August.  Thank you, and I am sorry for all you Sooners who now find yourselves new Texas citizens, according to my nephew.
 

I Don't Like Spiders And Snakes - So I Burned My House Down!

Recently I wrote about an East Texas woman and her adult son and their effort to kill a snake by pouring gas on it then lighting the gasoline-covered serpent.  The burning snake proceeded to ignite grass and bushes around the house, and soon the house itself was engulfed.  The local fire department arrived just in time to save the NEIGHBOR'S house.  I researched this story, found law enforcement and emergency service personnel who verified both the 9-1-1 calls and the fact that the homeowners had indeed set their house on fire while trying to kill a snake.  Having fact-checked the story, I then blogged about it in hopes that someone would take this most applicable lesson to heart.  It turns out, unfortunately, a man on the West Coast did not do so.

As it happened, a certain man in Seattle, Washington was doing his laundry two days ago when he saw a "large spider" hiding among the dirty clothes.  I am only speculating here, but apparently after stomping the dirty clothes, the homeowner saw the spider race across the floor and start toward the opposite wall.  Like the man and his mother in East Texas, the Seattle man was prepared for emergencies such as large spiders on the loose in his home.  He had close at hand a can of spray paint and a cigarette lighter.  Grabbing both items the man raced in pursuit of the spider, which was crawling up the wall at that instant.  The man flicked the lighter then shot the spray paint in the spider's direction - Shazam, instant flame thrower! 

Don't be so quick to give up the spider for dead.  It appears the man's first fiery blast of paint missed the spider, but...did not miss the wall.  As the burning paint struck and ignited the wall, the very agile spider raced away along the wall, but in the opposite direction.  Our hapless pyro-technician continued spraying fiery death toward the spider, which by now was running across the floor.  The next blast of paint/flame was a direct hit on the pile of clothing, which caught on fire immediately.  The spider continued across the floor and managed to elude the flame jet, at least temporarily.

At some point the homeowner noticed that the walls, floor, and laundry were on fire.  While the man's judgment concerning insecticide was certainly questionable, his reaction at his now blazing home was entirely normal.  He forgot all about the spider and began what must have been very heroic but vain efforts to extinguish the blaze.  The man was also able to multitask, as he managed to call for assistance while fighting the fire; unfortunately, the blaze was by this time well beyond bucket and garden hose stage.  Luckily, unlike our East Texas mother and son, the Seattle man lived only blocks from the nearest fire station.  Within minutes fire engines were on site and the man's house was saved, although not before at least $40,000 worth of structure damage occurred and over $20,000 in personal property was lost in the blaze.

Once again, before blogging this up, I did some fact-checking.  This story is apparently true, as it was carried in local newspapers, local and network television, and even in the USA Today.  There are appropriate quotes from various officials, including a fire investigator's confirmation of the man's story.  Ignition spots were found throughout the laundry room, indicating that the fire had several different points of origin.  The local fire chief even went on the record to caution other residents NOT to use aerosol products and cigarette lighters in tandem to kill spiders.  He pointed out that there are many aerosol-insecticides on the market that are just as effective as burning spray paint, and much safer, for killing spiders.  One fireman even speculated that the spider at the epicenter of this incident escaped the blaze entirely by running out of the laundry room while the would-be spider slayer was distracted by the burning of his house.

I had hoped my blog about the East Texas fire caused by the snake-killers would be seen by my readers, who are spread far and wide around this globe on which we live, and that no one would be "doomed to repeat the mistakes of the past."  It is possible that such was not the case, at least with the Seattle spider killer.

Malay Flight MH 17: Accident, Act of War, or Something Else?

My heart goes out to the families and friends who lost loved ones on Flight MH 17, the Malaysian Airlines jet shot down over the Ukraine yesterday.  This is a terrible shock for those Malaysians and others who were already grieving after Flight MH 370 disappeared without a trace last March.  As on Flight MH 370, passengers on MH Flight 17 reflected several nationalities, including Malaysia and Great Britain.  UNLIKE Flight 370, however, wreckage of Flight MK 17 was found immediately.  Without any doubt, the airliner was shot down by a missile; the doubt arises when we try to conclusively place the responsibility for who fired the missile, and especially, WHY the missile was fired at this particular jet.

War is raging in the Ukraine at this time, and my heart also goes out to the people who are willing to die to keep their hard-earned freedom from Russia.  And it is the backdrop of war in eastern Ukraine that causes many people to wonder exactly who shot down the Malaysian jet.  The first scenario, that the jet was shot down by one or other of the warring factions, provides the most obvious, and most convenient, reason for this disaster.  Either rebels or Ukrainian regular forces (or the RUSSIAN armed forces on behalf of the rebels) shot down the airliner for good military reasons, but in a case of mistaken identity.  Many of us older readers recall nearly three decades ago when USSR fighter jets shot down a Korean airliner that had strayed off of the Soviet-authorized flight route into restricted air-space.  That tragedy was condemned world-wide, but especially by Americans.  Unfortunately, just five years later the United States found itself the target of rabid condemnation by the world (EXCEPT the USSR) when a US Navy ship fired missiles to protect itself from an Iranian airliner that was flying low and on a course directly toward the vessel.  Ironically, it was the USSR who asked the rest of the world to "understand and not blame" the United States for the tragic act of self-defense, which could have been avoided had the Iranian crew heeded numerous radioed warnings to steer away from the Navy ship.  Given what we now know about some dedicated jihadists, it was certainly not out of the realm of possibility that the Iranian airplane had been turned into a suicide flight, with over two hundred innocent passengers aboard.

There is another scenario; however, that bears some consideration.  This second scenario is that either the Ukrainian rebels, with the aid of Russian technology/and or Russian technicians, shot down the Malaysian flight, or the Russian army itself shot down the airliner, deliberately, hoping that the blame for this act would fall on the Ukraine.  In either case, Russian officials and rebel leaders began denial of responsibility for this act while the downed plane was still smoldering.  Both parties also began immediately implying that Ukrainian government forces shot down the Malaysian jet.  To further buttress this claim, reporters on the ground stated they had seen the kind of rocket launcher needed for this operation set up near villages under Ukrainian army control.  Meanwhile, the Ukraine also denies responsibility for the incident.   It is clear that both the Russians and the Ukrainian forces possess missiles capable of downing a large airliner.  What is not so clear at the moment is whether the rebels in Ukraine have such capability.  While we do not at this moment know who shot down the airplane, it may be that two of the parties share a much stronger interest than that of the third party in the outcome of this incident.

In the question of who would have the best motive for shooting down Flight MH 17, there are two things worth noting.  First, the Ukraine had nothing to gain by destroying the Malaysian airliner, at least no OVERT gains.  I realize that there could have been some secret motive, but that is the case in almost any situation involving two foreign powers, including our own.   The Ukraine, desperately needing world opinion on its side, would certainly have no good reason whatever for committing this atrocity.  On the other hand, both Russia and the Ukrainian rebels had a great deal to gain if the blame for this disaster fell squarely on the current Ukrainian government.  If the Russians could “prove” that the Ukraine shot down this helpless jetliner, even in a case of mistaken identity, there is a great possibility that the international community would raise an outcry that something should be done about the “rogue” Ukrainian government so that our skies could be safe again.  Of course Russia would then act swiftly and decisively, and with the implicit blessing of the rest of the world.  They would quash the Ukrainian government, end the civil war, and bring the Ukrainian people back under the “protective arm” of Mother Russia. 

Regardless of who shot down Flight MH 17, and why, I hope that the responsible party will indeed come forward so that the families of those lost in this tragedy can have their questions answered, and yes, even seek compensation from those responsible, since the airliner was using an international flight lane and none of the warring factions had declared the airspace closed.  The losses will not be any easier to bear, but at least those left behind will have some framework from which they can deal with their terrible loss.  As many of us here in America know, it is very difficult for a legitimate government to step forward and say that a mistake was made and innocent people were killed; however, in this case I believe that whichever party does so will gain much respect with the rest of the world, and especially with the bereaved family members and friends, and the world will understand, if never approve of, this latest Malaysian Airlines tragedy.

 

 

 

                                                                       

 

Day Three: The Wedding

(This was posted out of order)

The day of the wedding came, July 3.  I was up by about eight or so in order to be dressed and out of the room while my lovely bride and my daughter got themselves fixed up for the wedding.  Child B's sister-in-law arrived around 9 AM to supply the hair-do magic.  Since there was nothing else for me to do, I went to the casino on the first floor of the Riviera.  My gambling story is short.  In less than half an hour I had lost over twenty dollars.  Time to take a stroll.  I left the casino and went upstairs to make sure that Child A, possibly suffering from a medical condition known as hangovori superiori, had indeed awakened and was getting dressed for the wedding.  Once I checked on Child A, I then received the all clear, I could not only come and get dressed (the ladies were ready) but I had less than fifteen minutes to do so before the limousine arrived. 

I raced back to the room and got dressed.  When I walked out of the changing room, I saw the most gorgeous girl I have seen in some time...Child B in a wedding gown (made, incidentally, by Child B's mother).  Up until now, the "wedding" had just been a sort of nebulous concept, sort of like quantum physics.  But there she was, a lady in a wedding gown, and I knew this was it...Child B was about to start a new life, her life with a great guy.  But Daddy was definitely beginning to feel like he is just a part of the back drop.  I wanted her to find a really good man and marry him, and she had, but still....well, never mind.

We all got into the Limo and headed for the Viva Las Vegas Wedding Chapel.  The drive was way too short, trust me.  Inside, we (the wedding party) received final instructions about the wedding plan, then it was time to go.  I gave Child B a penny for good luck, and a really long hug.  Okay, I know I will see her again in Midland Sunday afternoon, but it still felt so...so...final.  Tear...STOP...go back up.  It did...for the time being.  My daughter walked into the back of the chapel, extended her arm, and I took it.  I walked her down the aisle, and remember thinking how beautiful she looked, and how furshlugginerly short that aisle was.  Then we were standing there, Child B facing Groom To Be, and I heard the minister ask, "Who gives the bride away?"  My first reaction was to yell, "NO ONE!!  This is a SERIOUS MISTAKE....SHE'S JUST A BABY!!!"  But I did not do that.  I said, "I do."  I then kissed Child B on the cheek, and turned away.  My daughter was about to become Mrs. Matthews!  All I could do now was sit down and let that minister say those words.  And listen to Child B and Groom make the vows to each other.  It was over so soon...and I fought the tears.  Luckily my own lovely bride was crying, so I had something to do to keep myself from crying.  I gave her a kiss and squeezed her hand. 

After the wedding, there were all the congratulations and all the blessings given, then the limousine took us back to the Riviera.  The Bride and Groom rode with us, hugged us on the sidewalk, and they were gone.  We were gone, too.  It was time to head back to Texas.  I let my lovely bride and Child A hash out who would drive.  I climbed into the back seat of our truck and pretty much faded from the scene until we stopped in Kingman, Arizona.  By this time my sadness had turned to happiness for two young people starting out in the world as husband and wife.  So many things would change, yet so much would stay the same.  Mr. and Mrs. Matthews will reside only a few miles away from us.  We can go see them any time.  Yet they have their own world to make world, and we parents have to let them.  May God bless them along the way.

I have to say that it was the company of my lovely bride and Child A that really helped me keep it together, that really made the trip home, as well as the trip to Las Vegas.  Time with both of them...that was such a blessing. 

By the time we reached Flagstaff, it was beginning to rain.  We were able to get the tarp deployed over the luggage and secured before the semi-flood hit, then we were back on the road.  We drove all the way to Winslow, Arizona, where I did the inevitable...yes, I stopped and stood on the corner in Winslow, Arizona....but, alas, the fabled girl (my Lord!!) in the flat bed Ford did not slow down to take a look at me.  She did not even DRIVE BY THE CORNER.  In fact, she may not even have been in Winslow at all!  Child A took the treasured photograph for me anyway, and we got back on the road, after a meal at the Flying J.

We had (for once!) an uneventful drive from Winslow to Gallup, New Mexico, where we stopped for the night.  We were all exhausted...I was not able to blog at all, and that is why this blog got posted out of order (I had to blame it on something!).  We all got ready for bed, and the next thing I know, the alarm was going off.  What a short night! Time to hit the road again.