My personal boycott (for as long as it lasts)

Some things you just can’t help or at least you can plead ignorance.

Like the surprise today when I pulled off my boots. I bought a pair of Ariats last year – partly because I wanted to; partly because they were Ariats; and partly because I’ve always wanted a pair of solid black boots, none of the prissy colored crap that stands-in for the top part of so many boots these days. But this is not about boots.

I looked in the boot to double check size etc. and realized, (gasp!) that they were made in China. I’m sorry. I had no idea. I’d take them back if I could. I’m sure it is next to impossible to buy cheap stuff made in America. Only China it seems can make the really cheap stuff we need to buy at Wal Mart. But cowboy boots? Please!

Somewhere John Wayne is changing positions.

I hoped – figured – guessed that most boots were made in Texas from the leather taken from the hides of longhorn cattle raised among the prickly pear.

Does China even have any cattle?

My boycott is not to avoid things made in China. That would likely be impossible. What I intend to boycott – for as long as I can hold out – are the 2008 Olympics in Beijing. I will NOT be going.

I am still finding it odd that going back to 1980, we refused to go to Russia for the summer Olympics because they had invaded Afghanistan the winter before. We still have some sort of embargo toward/against (I am never certain which direction these things run) Cuba – except for really good expensive Cuban cigars. I just heard a report today that Bruce Willis smokes four expensive Cuban cigars every day. That adds up to more than $30,000 per year for those cigars. That ought to pay for a few of Fidel’s uniforms.

Back to the Olympics. It was easy to boycott in 1980. The Russian economy was tanking. The cold war had perhaps reached its apex. Few American companies saw their future in the soon to dissolve Soviet Union.

China on the other hand has billions (to quote Carl Sagan; God rest his cosmic soul) of current and potential consumers for American made products. So our Fortune 500s are falling all over themselves to be Olympic sponsors. We’re shipping so much of our steel to China that there isn’t enough for us. Have you priced anything made of steel lately? I don’t buy much but I do buy fence posts. 10-15 years ago I could get them for under $2 each on sale. Now they approach $4 apiece in some places.

Beijing is on a building spree to get everything spruced up for the hordes of athletes, journos and tourists who will flock there next year. I will not be one of them.

There is no connection whatsoever with the following and the former but … back in Idi Amin’s days (or Papa Docs, Pol Pot – pick your favorite dictator and human rights violator), if by chance, one of their countries could have hosted the Olympics or even any special event of any kind. Do you think we’d send our athletes? Of course not you say but I’m being silly. China is not Uganda, or Haiti or Cambodia.

But what are they? They are still one of the five countries under Communist control or government (Cuba, Laos, North Korea and Vietnam round out the list). If they didn’t have those bazillion people do you thing we’d even care? Would Coke be a proud sponsor of the Laotian Games? Doubt it. Cuba, maybe, but only because they make a lot of good baseball players and pretty good rum I hear (oh, and cigars).

So until I hear that Chinese people can do what they want to do, go to church when and where they want to, travel freely, don’t use prisoners to make exported products that sell below cost and in general start behaving like a good portion of the rest of the world, then I intend to not go to the Olympics and to make this even more serious, not watch any of them on TV.

Check back with me in summer of ’08 to see how I’m doing.

Joining the Circus

For some reason I was thinking about the circus and the phrase people use – “Run away to join the circus.” It is usually said out of frustration with a current environment or situation with (I guess) the idea that the circus is this great place and we can escape.

Where did this idea and phrase come from?

Think about it.

What do circus performers do? They spend their lives traveling around in trailers hauling a bunch of animals and equipment. Pull into towns all over the country, spend all day setting up the stuff, then change clothes and spend all-night hanging upside down from a trapeze in a leotard. Then when it’s all over, shovel out the elephant poo. Pack up and do it all over again the next day.

I don’t know about you but the idea of falling off a trapeze, getting stomped on by an elephant or mauled by a big tiger does not seem particularly appealing to me.

I’m looking for the upside here.

If all I wanted to do was escape, I’d find something …

French foreign legion? By the way. do you know anything about them? If movies are to be believed (and please don’t tell me you can’t) then the foreign legion was where mostly bad guys went to escape jail or something. This must have been before people were sent to Australia (or maybe after it filled up and the authorities figured they’d better not send any more bad guys down-under) You know the judge says “15 years to life OR you can join the Foreign Legion.” A sort of Hobson’s choice but … Most of the time these guys ended up fighting berbers or nomads or something in the Arabian desert. Hot, sandy, and big snakes slithering across the sands at night to crawl into your tent … Once again, what are people thinking?

Personally I think Alaska might be a better choice but they have grizzlies. Caribbean islands? – do the names Erin and Dean mean anything right now? I’m not sure there is anyplace safe left to go. Maybe I’ll just stay at home.

Arctic National Wildlife Refuge ANWR

I haven't been hearing much about this of late but it may be that I've been just too busy with other things and listening to music (not news) on XM. But I recall some of the debate about whether we should open up this Alaskan wilderness area to oil exploration and drilling. I tended to lean toward letting it happen since it was unlikely most americans would even get to see it and we somehow needed to reduce our dependence on foreign oil. As gas hovers once again over $2.60 per gallon I still feel strongly about the last part but am having second thoughts about what we should do in this area in the northeast of Alaska.

I've heard about the vast amounts of oil in the arctic. Two responses: I read (and I know you can't always believe what you read but you have to start somewhere) that the oil pipeline we built back in the 1970s to pump Prudhoe Bay oil to the other side of Alaska is running at 50% capacity. I don't know why. Item #2 - experts estimate that the amount of oil in ANWR is somewhere between 4 billion and 12 billion barrels. That sounds like a lot of oil to me but translated to usage - less than 2 years of U.S. oil consumption. And the difference it would make in the price of gas at the pump? 1 cent per gallon less.

So for me, I'll gladly bear the extra penny at the pump to keep this 19 million acres available for the Dall sheep, grizzlies and other assorted critters that call this place home.

Sophie Scholl- The Final Days

I've heard about this movie and story for more than a year and put the video on hold at our local library. It finally came in last week. And I finally watched it.

A couple of caveats - it is in German with subtitles and the pacing and style are NOT like the Bourne movies.

But it is a pretty good story - in fact probably a great one.

Simply put Sophie and her brother and some like-minded college-age friends, publish leaflets etc. denouncing Hitler and his govt. I should point out this is set in 1943 in Germany.

What is remarkable is that this is based on a true story. Some of our generation may recall various protest, marches, sit-ins etc. during the height of the Vietnam war. Some may have even been injured by tear gas or overly-zealous law-enforcement and let's not forget the 4 students killed at Kent St. Univ. in 1970.

But apart from that tragedy, few of the protesters were ever called upon to defend their actions against penalty of imprisonment and certainly not death.

It was astounding to see these young people so committed to their cause that they would risk death to make sure other students (I was surprised their goal was mostly to educate college students about Hitler and what was really happening.) knew the truth about the war.

One great scene - not cinematically complex at all - is a verbal tennis match between Sophie and her German interrogator. He's armed with the full force of the Gestapo and all that that means. She's armed only with her convictions and amazing composure under great pressure. This scene alone is worth the movie as she goes toe-to-toe with him, never backs down and you can see in his eyes she has planted the seeds of either doubt of his own position or a sense of respect that she gains in his mind.

If you don't know the ending, I won't spoil it for you. I found it more compelling than a book I read on this subject. The book was written in the 40s or 50s so its style too was slow and detailed. I've read several reviews and they all talk about what a great spiritual story this was and how important faith was in their lives and actions. I'll confess I didn't see this as the over-arching point of the movie. Yes Sophie prayed more than once. Her mother admonishes her to remember Jesus. And perhaps without their faith, none of them would have done what they did. But to make this out to be a Christian movie or anything like that is a disservice to their story.

You don't have to care about Germany, WWII or similar things to appreciate a good story about young people standing up for what they believe.

The Roads Not Taken

With apologies to Robert Frost for mis-using his wonderful poem in something so mundane as a blog, here are my musings on big choices not made – choosing not to do something is still making a choice – albeit sometimes in a negative sense. Waxing way too philosophical here but my focus is more on what I chose NOT to do rather than what I did.

They say we think more about the things we didn’t do rather than the things we do. Often these are a source of regret. I don’t list them in that manner although in some cases they do make me wonder.

Here are some of the big ones in chronological order:

Summer of 1962 – My parents were finalizing their divorce. My dad asked me one day who I would rather live with (tough question for a father to ask and tough for a 10 year-old to answer) so I would be prepared in case I had to go before the judge. Honestly at that time I was closer to my mother but had also just been through a pretty rough few months. I told my dad I wanted to stay with him. I never went before a judge and from that point on, I lived with my dad until I left home some 14 years later. In the 1960s it was pretty rare for a child to stay with a father but I’m glad it worked out this way. My dad did a pretty good job of taking care of and raising me. Some day I’ve got to thank him again for that.

Spring 1971 – I played pretty competitive tennis during high-school and during the spring of my senior year started to play for some college recruiters – they may have been coaches but I can’t remember for sure. One day I went to Corsicana, Texas to play at Navarro State Junior College. Corsicana is home to the famous fruitcake-making place. At any rate I was offered a scholarship to this Jr. College. I should note that I was not in the big leagues – I was pretty good but not four-year-NCAA good. After we played we took a tour of the campus and dorms etc. What I recall was that their dorms were in a small motel where the rooms were cinder block walls and it was not on-campus and pretty dingy. I held off giving my answer. A week or so later I played for another JUCO – Paris Jr. College and was hoping they’d make an offer. But my “tryout” must not have been as impressive and they didn’t call back. Meanwhile I decided to go to a four-year school so I enrolled in UTA – the Arlington campus of the Univ. of Texas. I know in my heart (and my game!) that I wasn’t pro-quality material but I always wonder what would have happened if I had accepted that first scholarship and been able to play a couple of years of really competitive tennis.

Late Spring 1975 – two pretty big choices not made

a) Even though by now I was pretty set on a career of some sort in TV or Film, college campuses are pretty full of recruiters for all sorts of things. One of which was an oil company. I can’t even remember their name but the deal was – spend a month on a rig in East Texas (still a pretty big oil patch at that time) then head off to either a place in the south of Iran (the Shah was still the main guy back then) or to a rig in the North Sea off the coast of Scotland. Who knows exactly why but they offered me a position of sorts but only to go to Iran. I only wanted to go to Scotland so I declined.

b) Around the same time I applied to the Peace Corps. Their process (then) took lots of paperwork and time but I finished it up sometime in late Spring or early summer of 1975. I didn’t hear back for a long time until I think the fall. By then I was working for a sign-maker and also as a photographer’s asst. at a small studio. Then the letter came telling me I had been accepted into the Peace Corps. Fill out the paperwork and report to such and such place where I would then go to the island of Tonga. Now go figure but I was dead-set on going to north Africa. I had met a lady who did some National Geographic work in Morocco and I wanted to go there. But those openings were taken so I was assigned to the south pacific. So in my 21 year-old wisdom, I wrote back and said I didn’t want to go to Tonga. I guess you don’t say no to the Peace Corps (Ask not …) because I never head from them again.

Spring 1977

Patti and I had been married less than a year and a friend hooked me up with an oil company in Texas about another job. (What is it about oil companies in Texas?) We took a trip to Texas to see my dad and while there were able to squeeze in an interview. It went well but somehow it just didn’t seem right. The money was OK but nothing to get rich on. Within a few years the oil “bidness” in Texas had one of those “busts” so looking back this is one I feel pretty comfortable about turning it down.

Fall 1989

After more than 11 years working at CBN, I was called in one day to be told that I was being let go in a re-structuring of management etc. – a not-so-thinly-veiled euphemism for “your fired”. But at the same time I lost my management job I was offered a consolation job going back to my old department. I would keep my same salary etc. The catch was someone in that department would be let go instead of me. I remember crying a lot about this one but we/I knew I couldn’t keep my job at the expense of someone else’s so I turned down the offer. A little while later the same position came open again (don’t recall all the details) but this time for less money. I think they went ahead and let the other person go anyway. I turned them down again. Keep in mind, I’m out of work so this doesn’t seem like the best decision going but in my gut/heart/spirit – wherever these things reside, I knew it wasn’t right. I needed to move on. The upshot of all this, one year later to the day from my termination, I was offered the position which brought us to Missouri, where we still live after more than 16 years. And we’ve able to do many things we’d never have been able to do in the city back in Virginia.

Winter 1994/5

Once again I found myself in the category called “unemployed”. I lost my position in some sort of shuffle where new people came in and the old one (me) had to go. I’m still not sure of the whole truth and nothing but the truth on this one but anyway you slice it, I lost my job. During this time of course I’m sending out resumes right and left but not much is happening.

An acquaintance calls from Chicago about a position at a TV station. I fly up on what must have been the coldest day in Chicago history – the wind was blowing off the lake big time and it was just plain frigid! We talked all morning. Had lunch at a restaurant right out of the Godfather and then talked all afternoon. I fly home.

During the same time I had interviewed for a position locally but nothing was definite yet. It needed some more approvals to be official. But once again that old gut/heart thing told me to decline the Chicago job BEFORE it was offered AND while I was waiting on a final decision on the pending job here. So I make the call and tell the nice folks in Chicago to take me out of consideration. Two weeks later I started the job that I hold today.

For the last year or so I’ve been more focused on the decisions I make with a goal to avoid regret. Trying to make conscious choices to DO things rather than not do something. A friend and I were talking today and he kept coming back to the amount of time we have left to make a difference and how it only grows smaller. I don’t want to dwell on that – I’d just like to use this small look back as some sort of reminder to make good choices.

Water, water everywhere.

In the July/August edition of Fast Company magazine, is an article about bottled water.

I don’t drink a lot of it; personally I really like our well water. It has good taste, I hope some good minerals and hopefully does NOT have too much bad stuff.

But this article opened my eyes to a few things and reminded me of some others.

Most major brands of bottled water are simply filtered or purified tap water from somewhere. I just read today that the FDA (I think the FDA) ordered Pepsi to change their label on Aquafina so it clearly stated that this was simply tap water from somewhere.

Some trivia – Poland Spring water – really comes from a spring in Maine. ANd if you really want to know more about water than you need to know, check their web site - lots of pictures etc. about the process, history etc. Poland Spring is part of the Nestle waters group.

Aquafina #1 seller in the U.S. (Pepsi) and Dasani #2 (Coke) are both filtered or purified tap water from all the cities in which they have bottling plants for Coke, Pepsi etc. which are also about 90% water.

San Pelligrino water comes from Sal Pellegrino Terme, Italy BUT it has no bubbles. Bubbles are taken from water in Tuscany and trucked to San Pelligrino. Another note about Pellegrino – it takes two liters of mineral water to wash each bottle that will then hold ONE liter of Pelligrino.

Fiji water – which I guess is popular in Hollywood (I spent several weeks there in the early 80s on a video shoot and Perrier was all the rage back then.) really does come from the island of Fiji but many of the islands citizens can’t even get clean drinking water. The plant to bottle the water in Fiji has generators since the local utility can’t provide enough power. Transporting plastic bottles TO Fiji and then shipping them back out again full, is about half the cost of each bottle of Fiji water.

Perrier comes out of the ground in France with bubbles.

Evian – another water from France but sans bubbles or a “still” water.

The City of San Francisco gets it water from Yosemite National Park and it is so clean that the FDA doesn’t even require it to be filtered.

In blind taste tests most Americans can not tell the difference between tap water, springwater or the so-called luxury waters.

Nestle is a big bottler of water and recently reduced the amount of plastic in its bottle. OK I know I said I like well water but I also drink some bottled water and we just bought some Nestle’s and the bottle is very thin and flimsy feeling. Crushes easy when you finish.

The Fast Company article says that we still throw away almost 40 billion – yep BILLION - empty bottles from water each year.

All these pieces of information may not mean much but it got me to thinking about the whole idea of bottled water. Healthy for me but expensive, uses up gas and other energy to bottle and transport and at a time when perhaps 1 billion people in the world do not have a reliable source of drinking water, gives a moment of pause and I do think about that every time I take a drink now.