I have been married 43 years (to the same woman). My marriage has been a happy one. Elaine and I have been blessed with three wonderful children and many good times. I read somewhere many years ago that there were only fifteen words that a man needed to know to have a happy marriage. No doubt there are other useful words to know as well, but the fifteen essential words are:
• I love you.
• You look great.
• I was wrong.
• May I help?
• Let’s eat out.
Okay, sixteen words if you insist on counting “Let’s” as two words.
Thursday, February 25, 2010
Monday, February 22, 2010
Headin' Home
It was late August in 1962, and I was hitch-hiking home after camping out in the Rockies for more than two months with my oldest brother Lewis. We parted company somewhere in Montana, he on his way to LA to begin his new job and I on a very indirect route back to Albany, Georgia – did I mention that Albany was my home town? Anyway, the first leg of my trip home was with an M.I.T. classmate of Lewis’s named Jake. Jake was on his way back to Boston for more schooling, so I hopped a ride with him. Once I got to Boston, I turned south toward home. I didn’t hang around, because I was in a little bit of a hurry now -- I had to be at Tulane in a couple of weeks to begin my freshman year, and I wanted to spend a few days at home before then. I made fairly decent time for hitchhiking until I got to Philadelphia.
It was my strategy while hitch-hiking to wear a coat and tie, since surely that would make me look the handsome and wholesome young man that I was and help me get rides. I had just turned 18 about two weeks before. Camping out, Lewis and I had paid little attention to newspapers, calendars, and the like. Indeed, we rarely even listened to a radio, so it was a stroke of luck that I realized when my 18th birthday rolled around and we happened to be near Denver at the time. We stopped there so I could register for the draft. As I recall, it was the law back then to register within ten days of your 18th birthday. I think we may have eaten at a restaurant while in Denver.
But I digress. I was stuck in Philadelphia. I had known for nearly forever that Philadelphia meant the City of Brotherly Love, but after about eight hours waiting in vain for a ride, I was beginning seriously to question this common knowledge. After all, didn’t I have my coat and tie on? Wasn’t I clean, or at least as clean as you can be after camping out for two months? Didn’t I have my sign clearly stating what my target destination was? Why wasn’t it obvious to these people that I was just a young guy who needed a ride and that I posed no threat to anybody? (Did it occur to me that the locals weren’t who I should have been out of sorts with? Of course, but that didn’t stop me from being mad at the whole place.)
During my seemingly interminable stay in Philadelphia, I had moved from place to place to try to find a better spot to catch a ride. For the past couple of hours I had been standing at a major intersection near which a tall office building was located. After awhile I became aware that a man had come out of the building and was walking in my direction. As he got closer, I realized that he was indeed approaching me, apparently with the intention of opening up a conversation. He was, I would estimate, about 50 years old, and I was surprised that his first words were not exactly a greeting. Instead, he abruptly asked, “Why are you headed to Albany?”
Well, I was taken aback, and I was also somewhat annoyed. I mean to say, he might at least have said hello and made some small talk about how hard it was to hitch a ride those days or something. But he didn’t look unkind, and I saw no harm in telling the truth. I do that now and again, especially when it serves me no useful purpose to do otherwise. I replied, “I live there. I’ve been away for two months, and I want to see my mom and little brothers and sisters before going off to college next month.”
My answer visibly surprised him. He wasn’t inclined to believe me, and he asked me some more questions, among them being, “Haven’t you been reading the papers?” Well, of course, you know the answer to that. When I told him no, he asked me if I knew who Martin Luther King was. No, I didn’t have a clue. I mean, I knew very well who Martin Luther was, but Martin Luther King, Jr.? Finally, he said something like, “Well, he’s a Negro activist, and right now he’s with a lot of other Negros who are marching in Albany for integration and equal civil rights.” I think that in the end, it was my Georgia accent as much as anything else that convinced him that I wasn’t lying.
I knew the word activist from my reading, but I’m pretty sure that was the first time I ever heard anyone actually say the word activist out loud. Anyway, I finally – and instantaneously – became aware of what the problem was. I might not know who Martin Luther King Jr. was, but I sure as heck knew what the Supreme Court’s 1954 Brown vs. Board of Education decision was all about. Apparently its impact had finally reached my hometown.
The not unkindly man went on to explain that the sentiments of the local populace were for the most part inclined to favor the Negros’ position, and they (the locals, not the Negros) were not generally inclined to help someone suspected to be on his way to make trouble. And, he went on to say, that might be the way folks around there were thinking about me. “Wait here,” he said. “I’ll be back shortly.” Well, what else was I going to do? So I waited.
Twenty minutes later he returned with a sign listing Washington, D.C. as my destination. He advised me to put my Albany sign away until I got farther south. “Once you’re in your own territory, you can put your Albany sign back up.” Amazingly, it worked. For whatever reason, it worked, and I had a ride into Virginia before he made it back to his building. Bless him! Good ole city of brotherly love! From there on, it was smooth sailing until I reached Atlanta.
A trucker dropped me off at a restaurant there, and I walked in and announced, quite loudly, to the patrons: “My name is Philip Whitman, and I live in Albany, Georgia. I need a ride home. If anybody here is going there, I sure would appreciate a ride.” Reticence was never a strong suit of mine. After a minute or two, this fellow near the back of the restaurant called out, “What’s the name of the Albany High School football coach?” Well, now, I’m finally on my home territory I thought, as I replied, “Bernie Reid.” And without so much as a second’s pause, he said, “Well come on, let’s go. I can take you down the road a piece.”
He took me all the way to Zebulon, Georgia, which was only about three hours north of Albany on old Highway 19. Back then I-75 didn’t exist, and Highway 19 was the main road between Albany and Atlanta. That night I slept in the hayloft of an old barn on a farm in Zebulon, and the next morning I caught a ride before 8:00 o’clock. The guy took me all the way to my driveway. Boy, was I glad to get home!
It was my strategy while hitch-hiking to wear a coat and tie, since surely that would make me look the handsome and wholesome young man that I was and help me get rides. I had just turned 18 about two weeks before. Camping out, Lewis and I had paid little attention to newspapers, calendars, and the like. Indeed, we rarely even listened to a radio, so it was a stroke of luck that I realized when my 18th birthday rolled around and we happened to be near Denver at the time. We stopped there so I could register for the draft. As I recall, it was the law back then to register within ten days of your 18th birthday. I think we may have eaten at a restaurant while in Denver.
But I digress. I was stuck in Philadelphia. I had known for nearly forever that Philadelphia meant the City of Brotherly Love, but after about eight hours waiting in vain for a ride, I was beginning seriously to question this common knowledge. After all, didn’t I have my coat and tie on? Wasn’t I clean, or at least as clean as you can be after camping out for two months? Didn’t I have my sign clearly stating what my target destination was? Why wasn’t it obvious to these people that I was just a young guy who needed a ride and that I posed no threat to anybody? (Did it occur to me that the locals weren’t who I should have been out of sorts with? Of course, but that didn’t stop me from being mad at the whole place.)
During my seemingly interminable stay in Philadelphia, I had moved from place to place to try to find a better spot to catch a ride. For the past couple of hours I had been standing at a major intersection near which a tall office building was located. After awhile I became aware that a man had come out of the building and was walking in my direction. As he got closer, I realized that he was indeed approaching me, apparently with the intention of opening up a conversation. He was, I would estimate, about 50 years old, and I was surprised that his first words were not exactly a greeting. Instead, he abruptly asked, “Why are you headed to Albany?”
Well, I was taken aback, and I was also somewhat annoyed. I mean to say, he might at least have said hello and made some small talk about how hard it was to hitch a ride those days or something. But he didn’t look unkind, and I saw no harm in telling the truth. I do that now and again, especially when it serves me no useful purpose to do otherwise. I replied, “I live there. I’ve been away for two months, and I want to see my mom and little brothers and sisters before going off to college next month.”
My answer visibly surprised him. He wasn’t inclined to believe me, and he asked me some more questions, among them being, “Haven’t you been reading the papers?” Well, of course, you know the answer to that. When I told him no, he asked me if I knew who Martin Luther King was. No, I didn’t have a clue. I mean, I knew very well who Martin Luther was, but Martin Luther King, Jr.? Finally, he said something like, “Well, he’s a Negro activist, and right now he’s with a lot of other Negros who are marching in Albany for integration and equal civil rights.” I think that in the end, it was my Georgia accent as much as anything else that convinced him that I wasn’t lying.
I knew the word activist from my reading, but I’m pretty sure that was the first time I ever heard anyone actually say the word activist out loud. Anyway, I finally – and instantaneously – became aware of what the problem was. I might not know who Martin Luther King Jr. was, but I sure as heck knew what the Supreme Court’s 1954 Brown vs. Board of Education decision was all about. Apparently its impact had finally reached my hometown.
The not unkindly man went on to explain that the sentiments of the local populace were for the most part inclined to favor the Negros’ position, and they (the locals, not the Negros) were not generally inclined to help someone suspected to be on his way to make trouble. And, he went on to say, that might be the way folks around there were thinking about me. “Wait here,” he said. “I’ll be back shortly.” Well, what else was I going to do? So I waited.
Twenty minutes later he returned with a sign listing Washington, D.C. as my destination. He advised me to put my Albany sign away until I got farther south. “Once you’re in your own territory, you can put your Albany sign back up.” Amazingly, it worked. For whatever reason, it worked, and I had a ride into Virginia before he made it back to his building. Bless him! Good ole city of brotherly love! From there on, it was smooth sailing until I reached Atlanta.
A trucker dropped me off at a restaurant there, and I walked in and announced, quite loudly, to the patrons: “My name is Philip Whitman, and I live in Albany, Georgia. I need a ride home. If anybody here is going there, I sure would appreciate a ride.” Reticence was never a strong suit of mine. After a minute or two, this fellow near the back of the restaurant called out, “What’s the name of the Albany High School football coach?” Well, now, I’m finally on my home territory I thought, as I replied, “Bernie Reid.” And without so much as a second’s pause, he said, “Well come on, let’s go. I can take you down the road a piece.”
He took me all the way to Zebulon, Georgia, which was only about three hours north of Albany on old Highway 19. Back then I-75 didn’t exist, and Highway 19 was the main road between Albany and Atlanta. That night I slept in the hayloft of an old barn on a farm in Zebulon, and the next morning I caught a ride before 8:00 o’clock. The guy took me all the way to my driveway. Boy, was I glad to get home!
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
Energy and Global Warming
I favor reducing our dependence on oil, especially foreign oil -- not because of global warming, but rather for national security. I think wind energy and solar energy, etc., are just fine if people want to invest in them, but I don't hold much hope for any meaningful contribution from these energy sources for several years, possibly decades, and I don't think we ought to be subsidizing their development and use with taxpayer money.
I think we should be doing more drilling for oil and gas, not less. We should be drilling more in Alaska and more off all three coasts, not just, or mainly, off the Gulf coast. We should be producing gasoline and gas from coal and shale, both of which we have in abundance, and we know how to do that. In fact, we have known how for a long time. To wit, a coal liquefaction plant was built in South Africa in the 1950’s, and in America coal gas was used extensively in the late 19th and early 20th centuries for lighting, cooking and heating. I think we should be building coal gasification plants and coal liquefaction plants. I think we should be tapping the huge shale gas formations in the U.S. However, I think we would be fooling ourselves if we thought doing all these things would be enough to solve all our energy problems.
I wish Americans would embrace the nuclear option. It seems to me far and away to be the most proven and economical energy technology, and we have plenty of uranium for nuclear fuel. Nuclear power generation doesn’t make carbon dioxide, in case that's what people are worried about. Americans like to make fun of the French, perhaps rightly so in some instances, but one thing I'll give them credit for, and that is that they have the energy thing down. They generate something like 70 to 80% of their power from nuclear plants, and they have had nary an accident. My understanding is that dramatic improvements have been made in safe design and safe operations since the Three Mile Island incident. With respect to disposal of the waste, why not bury it in lead containers within salt domes?
I think making ethanol fuel from corn is about the dumbest idea to come down the pike in several generations. (In sharp contradistinction, I think making ethanol for whiskey from corn has always been a great idea, but that is beside the point.)
As for global warming, I think it may be happening. However, I don’t think we have enough information to gauge how significant mankind’s contribution is, relative to that caused by the earth’s natural heating and cooling cycles. Moreover, I am doubtful as to how much we could do to stop it anyway, if it’s happening. After all, no other country would be required to adhere to any carbon cap-and trade law that America might enact, and it is my understanding that within a few years China alone is expected to be generating more carbon dioxide than the rest of the world combined. Finally, I think that if global warming is real, its effect will be gradual, giving people time to adapt, migrate to other climes, etc. Also, I think it would have some positive effects as well as some negative ones – for example, if some coastal lands were lost due to rising sea levels, then other coastal lands would naturally take their place, and land areas farther north would become more arable and habitable as a result of getting warmer.
I think we should be doing more drilling for oil and gas, not less. We should be drilling more in Alaska and more off all three coasts, not just, or mainly, off the Gulf coast. We should be producing gasoline and gas from coal and shale, both of which we have in abundance, and we know how to do that. In fact, we have known how for a long time. To wit, a coal liquefaction plant was built in South Africa in the 1950’s, and in America coal gas was used extensively in the late 19th and early 20th centuries for lighting, cooking and heating. I think we should be building coal gasification plants and coal liquefaction plants. I think we should be tapping the huge shale gas formations in the U.S. However, I think we would be fooling ourselves if we thought doing all these things would be enough to solve all our energy problems.
I wish Americans would embrace the nuclear option. It seems to me far and away to be the most proven and economical energy technology, and we have plenty of uranium for nuclear fuel. Nuclear power generation doesn’t make carbon dioxide, in case that's what people are worried about. Americans like to make fun of the French, perhaps rightly so in some instances, but one thing I'll give them credit for, and that is that they have the energy thing down. They generate something like 70 to 80% of their power from nuclear plants, and they have had nary an accident. My understanding is that dramatic improvements have been made in safe design and safe operations since the Three Mile Island incident. With respect to disposal of the waste, why not bury it in lead containers within salt domes?
I think making ethanol fuel from corn is about the dumbest idea to come down the pike in several generations. (In sharp contradistinction, I think making ethanol for whiskey from corn has always been a great idea, but that is beside the point.)
As for global warming, I think it may be happening. However, I don’t think we have enough information to gauge how significant mankind’s contribution is, relative to that caused by the earth’s natural heating and cooling cycles. Moreover, I am doubtful as to how much we could do to stop it anyway, if it’s happening. After all, no other country would be required to adhere to any carbon cap-and trade law that America might enact, and it is my understanding that within a few years China alone is expected to be generating more carbon dioxide than the rest of the world combined. Finally, I think that if global warming is real, its effect will be gradual, giving people time to adapt, migrate to other climes, etc. Also, I think it would have some positive effects as well as some negative ones – for example, if some coastal lands were lost due to rising sea levels, then other coastal lands would naturally take their place, and land areas farther north would become more arable and habitable as a result of getting warmer.
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