Showing posts with label It Could Be Worse. Show all posts
Showing posts with label It Could Be Worse. Show all posts

Thursday, February 21, 2013

Things to Worry About


Last week's literal bolt-from-the-blue, when an unexpected meteor exploded over the Chelyabinsk region of Siberia and caused massive damage and many injuries, has ratcheted up the level of public angst about the danger of asteroids, meteors, and other cosmic junk crashing to earth.


This is, indeed, worrisome, and a danger with which we must contend. But is it the worst thing we have to worry about?

This interesting chart, which appeared in The Economist on Valentine's Day, graphically illustrates the odds of dying in the United States from various causes. If it doesn't blow up enough to read clearly when you click on the image (and it probably won't), you can see the original here:


What lessons do we derive from this chart? Here are a few ...

1. The danger of being killed by an asteroid impact is approximately 1 in 75,000,000. Rough, but not very likely.

2. The danger of being killed by lightning is about 1 in 10,500,000. A bit riskier than asteroids, but still relatively unlikely*.

3. The risk of death from "Post Surgery Complications" is 1 in 117,500.

4. "Assault by Firearm" (includes firearms of all sorts) is ranked as 1 in 25,000.

and ...

5. The greatest risk of death in the United States comes from Heart Disease, at approximately 1 in 470.

So ...

As you read stupid Facebook posts or other items that tell you how much less likely you are to be killed by gunfire than by (insert cause here), now you have a chart to which you can refer for a reality check. Or you could just consult the bizarre TV show 1000 Ways to Die. Whatever.

Now, go out and buy that shotgun Vice President Biden says is your best bet for home defense**. And protect yourself at both ends of the threat spectrum by installing a reinforced roof on your house for asteroid protection, and eating better to take care of your heart.

Have a good day. Be careful out there ... the world is full of asteroid clowns, ha, ha.

See you back here for Cartoon Saturday.

Bilbo

* Oddly enough, my wife was named for a member of her mother's family who was killed when she was struck by lightning.

** For what it's worth, I agree with him. Assault rifles are cooler-looking, but nothing beats a good old 12-gauge for intimidation appeal.

Thursday, August 18, 2011

Something Else to Worry About

In a world where Congress is more concerned with partisan purity than with doing its job, the economy is in the toilet, flash mobs loot stores, people give a rat's rear end that Kim Kardashian is getting married, and clothing manufacturers are offering to pay "celebrities" to not wear their clothes, it's nice to know that there are still a few ordinary, natural things to worry about.

Like terrible diseases.

I was link-hopping from a friend's Facebook page the other day when I discovered this interesting graphic on the good.is website - Outbreak: the Deadliest Pandemics in History. If you think the brain-dead ass clowns of the far right and far left are a plague, consider plagues that were demonstrably worse: the champion appears to be smallpox - now supposedly eradicated - which has killed more than 300 million people throughout recorded history. Measles comes in second with a mere 200 million victims, and the Spanish Flu pandemic of 1918-1919 is in third with an estimated 50-100 million deaths. And, of course, there was the infamous Black Death that killed off much of the population of Europe in the 14th century.

Almost makes you appreciate low-grade nuisances like election seasons and ass clowns who insist on loud cell phone conversations in public, doesn't it?

Anyhow, there are lots of interesting infographics at the good.is website ... I'm not sure how accurate they all are, but they provide good food for thought, if nothing else.

That's all for today. Yesterday, my daughter and I met for lunch at Oyamel, and today Agnes and I are planning to enjoy lunch at Chef Geoff's downtown in observance of DC Restaurant Week - one of those things that help take the edge off the disadvantages of living in Disneyland-on-the-Potomac. Around here, we take our jollies where we can find them.

Have a good day. Wash your hands and get your flu shots. And have a good lunch. More thoughts tomorrow.

Bilbo

Wednesday, March 23, 2011

Doing Things the Old-Fashioned Way

The ongoing horror of the earthquake, tsunami, and nuclear crisis in Japan remains front and center in the news, and it's both terrifying and fascinating to watch. I've often wondered how I would be able to cope with the sort of disaster that many Japanese are now facing even as I fervently hope never to have to find out.

One of the fascinating subplots of the Japanese disaster is one that most of us wouldn't even think about: how does a completely networked, wired, electronically-centered society get along when the electricity goes out? There was a good article on this topic by Andrew Higgins in yesterday's Washington Post - In Ishinomaki, News Comes Old-Fashioned Way: Via Paper. Mr Higgins writes,

"Unable to operate its 20th-century printing press — never mind its computers, Web site or 3G mobile phones — the town’s only newspaper, the Ishinomaki Hibi Shimbun, wrote its articles by hand with black felt-tip pens on big sheets of white paper. But unlike modern media, the method worked."

Consider, Dear Readers, the shock of suddenly having none of your 21st-century infrastructure you take for granted: with no electricity flowing reliably through the wires, you suddenly own lots of sleek, high-tech devices that are useful only as paperweights. No cell phone, no BlackBerry, no iPad, iPod, iPhone, or X-Box. No streaming video. No radio, television, or e-mail. No texts, tweets, or posts.

Could you cope?

This is more than just an academic question. Earthquakes and violent storms can happen almost anywhere, although perhaps not with the same compound ferocity of the Japanese disaster, and so it's not a bad thing to think about what you'd do if the lights go out. Somehow, I don't think I'd be able to keep up this blog if I had to post by carrier pigeon, or by individual handwritten letter to each of you.

Just a little something to add to the list of things you have to worry about as we march together into an uncertain future.

Have a good day. Hope for the best, but plan for the worst. More thoughts tomorrow.

Bilbo

Wednesday, August 12, 2009

Adventures in Travel, Part 6: Flying the Unfriendly Skies

We finally got home last night around 10:15 after a long and eventful day. All I can say is that I'm glad to be here.

Well, that's not quite true. I actually have a lot more to say about it. Go get a cup of coffee before you start to read...this may take a while.

We got up yesterday morning at 4:30 AM to get cleaned up, pack our final things, and check out of the hotel in time to get to the train station for our 5:58 AM train to the Frankfurt airport via Offenburg. Despite the terrible hour (considering we were supposed to be on vacation), the train ride was wonderful...the 5:58 (a regional train) was right on time, we got good seats, and munched the sandwiches Agnes built at the Holiday Inn's breakfast buffet while the spectacular scenery of the Black Forest rolled by outside. Unfortunately, I'd dismantled my camera and packed it away, so you can't share the marvelous vistas of deep, wooded canyons and picturesque villages tucked into the folds of deep green, rolling hills. We arrived in Offenburg right on time, had plenty of time for our transfer, and settled into our reserved seats on the high-speed Inter-City Express (ICE) train to Frankfurt. Train travel in Germany is definitely the way to go.

Our adventures began when we arrived at the Frankfurt airport station. I scrounged a baggage cart and we went to the Lufthansa check-in area conveniently located right outside the station to accommodate those arriving by train. The line was short and we soon found ourselves talking with a nice young lady who weighed our bags (within limits, thanks to some judicious packing) and apologetically handed us our boarding passes ... without seats assigned. She explained that the flight was oversold by 40 seats (!) and that she couldn't assign us seats...we'd have to get that done at the gate.

Happily, we were about three hours early, so we went directly to the gate and waited for the first agents to show up. We'd been told that they'd man the gate starting about 1.5 hours before boarding, but as it turned out, the gate agents didn't arrive until about a half-hour before boarding was supposed to start...by which time a howling mob of people waving torches and pitchforks and holding boarding passes without seat assignments was seething in the gate area. Agnes, who is better at belligerent arguing than I am, was right at the head of the line and soon managed to get us seats, although not together (we got aisle seats in the back of the plane, one behind the other). Business class was full, so we couldn't upgrade, but at least we had seats.

Well...

The adventure continued as boarding finally began. It was the usual process of boarding families with children, the elderly and handicapped, First-Class and Business Class Demigods, and those holding the bewildering array of frequent flyer designations ("now boarding our Xenon, Manganese, and Molybdinum Customers") first, followed by the steerage class passengers boarding by rows from the rear of the aircraft.

Well, that was the plan.

As it turned out, all the announcements were made in German, followed by translations in English, and most of the English-speaking travelers shut it all out when they heard the German. As a result, there was a huge scrum at the gates as everyone tried to board at once, and the hapless Lufthansa personnel gave up on any attempt to try to control the mess. We were able to get through the mob quickly enough to get on board and find space for our carryons, but the tremendous crush of people trying to get onto a fully-booked 747 far overloaded the crew's ability to establish order, and getting everyone seated took so long that we missed our takeoff slot and had to wait about 20 minutes at the gate while the pilot waited for a new time slot.

We finally got a new takeoff time, and the jet growled majestically away from the gate for the long taxi trip (via Poland, France, and the Low Countries) to the runway. We made the turn onto the runway, the pilot gunned the engines, and we began to roar faster and faster down the tarmac. We had almost reached takeoff speed when...

There was a loud bang...the airplane slowed...speeded up again...then lurched in all directions as the pilot appeared to stand on the brakes. We all looked at each other with some concern as the airplane slowed to a stop, then slowly began to taxi down the rest of the runway and turn off onto an adjoining taxiway. At this point, the pilot announced that he'd had to abort the takeoff at the last moment because he'd hit a bird which had caused enough damage to one engine that he couldn't take off safely, and was now headed for a place where the airport fire brigade could hose down the brakes and tires until it was safe to taxi the rest of the way back to the terminal.

We sat on the taxiway for about a half-hour, surrounded by fire trucks and ambulances (unnecessary, thank goodness) and large numbers of technicians in orange vests pointing at the damaged engine, making notes on their PDAs, and shaking their heads gravely. Eventually, a tug arrived to tow us to a remote parking place, where we all had to disembark with all of our carryons, board large buses, and return to a bare-bones gate area at the terminal to wait for a new aircraft.

We ended up waiting there, unable to leave the immediate gate area, for about an hour and a half, while Lufthansa scrambled to turn around another, identical, 747 that had just arrived from somewhere else. This gate area contained one small snack bar manned by a single lady who was utterly unprepared for the sudden onslaught of a full jumbo jet's worth of hungry, worried, angry passengers. She quickly sold out of everything, and Lufthansa managed to bring in a pallet of water and soft drinks, which also quickly disappeared. Finally, the announcement came that the aircraft was ready and we could board the buses to go back out and start the entire kabuki dance again.

Well...

We replayed the mass scrum that I described earlier, and finally got to the buses which took us out to the new aircraft...

...and where we sat on the buses for another 20 minutes, because the aircraft wasn't really ready yet. We watched teams of cleaning personnel running back and forth with bags of trash, and zipping up and down the stairs with vacuum cleaners, buckets, etc. Then we waited a little longer while a small fleet of cars brought out the more important passengers, who couldn't be expected to have to board along with the unwashed masses. Eventually, the doors opened and Agnes and I raced to the rear boarding stairs to reclaim our seats and carryon storage spaces.

This time, the boarding went a little faster, and within about 45 minutes we were back on the runway, where we managed to get airborne without hitting any birds or other aircraft.

Once in the air, the flight was no more uncomfortable and boring than any other transatlantic flight, and there was no further excitement until we were approaching Washington...and the pilot announced that he couldn't land because of some scheduling problem.

AARRGGHH!!

So we flew majestically around the DC-Maryland-Virginia area for another hour, until the proper permissions were received, and we finally landed about four hours late. The entire aircraft erupted in spontaneous applause as we touched down.

We managed to negotiate passport control without any issues, except that Agnes (as a green-card holding permanent resident) had to be photographed and have her fingerprints recorded...something we've not experienced before. Luckily, she didn't turn up on any secret lists of doom, and we soon were cleared to head for baggage claim. Our suitcases eventually arrived (although not, of course, together), and we sped through customs (all that time spent practicing looking innocent does help).

The final delay occurred when we had to stop by the Lufthansa lost-luggage office to report that I'd forgotten my jacket on board the aircraft. It had already been found by the cleaning crew, but with everything going on, they weren't able to get it back to me then...the nice, but very harassed lady offered to FedEx it back to me, which was fine, since the temperature was in the mid-80's anyhow.

We found a taxi, and eventually arrived home...tired, cranky, but safe and sound.

All things considered, it could have turned out a lot worse. We could have hit that bird after the first aircraft had left the ground, and ended up as a big, smoking hole near the airport.

But we're here, we're safe, I have plenty to blog about, and we're looking forward to taking a new vacation to recover from this vacation...

Tomorrow, a few last pictures and random comments about the trip, and then we'll be back to the normal level of curmudgeonly commentary on the world...which has obliged in my absence by offering up plenty of utterly weird stuff on which to comment.

Have a good day. More thoughts tomorrow.

Bilbo

Monday, June 29, 2009

Good Careers with Bad Reputations

With the economy as bad as it is, people aren't being very choosy about the kinds of jobs they're willing to take on. The jokes about English majors learning to ask "do you want fries with that?" aren't as funny as they used to be, and I knew it was getting really difficult when I took a cab the other day, and the driver spoke English.

Yep, it's tough.

It's so tough that you can now find articles like this one from Yahoo News: Good Careers with Bad Reputations. For those of you looking for a career change (or even a career, period), here's the list:

Mortgage Broker. The term "broker" doesn't actually refer to your financial condition after you take the advice of an individual who tries to get you to buy more property than you can afford. But if you don't mind making people house-poor, there are plenty of openings here.

Executive Recruiter. Think about it ... with so many CEOs and CFOs in jail, someone's got to find the next generation of white-collar crooks.

Publicist. If you excelled at baby-sitting hyperactive and undisciplined two-year-olds, this is the job for you! The world is full of self-important celebrities who need someone to convince the world they're as great as they think they are.

Insurance Sales Agent. Can you play the guilt card on people, and blame property losses on "acts of God" with a straight face? Can you read and write Old Church Slavonic, the official language of the insurance industry? Here's your new career!

And the ever popular,

Tax Collector. If you can reconcile plummeting home values with steady or rising property tax bills, and if you can outrun howling mobs waving pitchforks and torches, governments at all levels always need new tax collectors. Who needs to be popular, anyhow?

Don't like any of these? You could always watch Dirty Jobs on The Discovery Channel, and take your chances.

Or you could just repeat after me: "Would you like fries with that?"

Have a good day. More thoughts tomorrow.

Bilbo

Friday, January 09, 2009

Dream Jobs?

The way the economy is nowadays, the latest status symbol is a job. If you have one, you’re lucky. If you enjoy it, you're doubly lucky.

The Wall Street Journal recently looked at 200 different jobs, and this past Tuesday published it’s list of the best and worst jobs in the U.S. The results were interesting. The top five (best) jobs were:

1. Mathematician;
2. Actuary;
3. Statistician;
4. Biologist; and,
5. Software Engineer.

As jobs go, these aren’t bad. You get to work indoors out of the weather, in offices or laboratories, and none involves grueling physical labor. All require serious mental acuity, and the top three involve the manipulation of numbers (where’s Numeric Life when we need her?).

Not all jobs are quite that good, though. The bottom five (worst) jobs in the survey were:

196. EMT (Emergency Medical Technician);
197. Seaman;
198. Taxi Driver;
199. Dairy Farmer; and,
200. Lumberjack.

In contrast to the “best” jobs, these primarily involve stressful work done outdoors in all sorts of weather, and all involve actual physical danger (though you might argue that dairy farmers have it a bit better than the others).

It could be worse, though. According to The Worst Case Scenario Almanac: History, the worst jobs in medieval England were:

* Leech Collector (walk along riverbeds and collect leeches on your bare legs for later sale to doctors);

* Fuller (treat wool fabric with urine to thicken it);

* Purple Maker (smash mollusks in a vat, add water and ash, and supervise the fermentation, which is said to smell...well...pretty bad); and,

* Arming Squire (keep your knight’s armor clean by polishing it with sand, vinegar, and urine; run into the middle of the battle to replace your knight’s broken armor or weapons).

Moving ahead a few hundred years, here were some of the worst jobs of the 1800’s:

* Chimney Sweep’s Assistant (spend your days jammed in filthy, soot-filled chimneys);

* Mill Scavenger (clean cotton lint and scraps from beneath operating textile machines);

* Pure Collector (gather dog and cat feces from the streets for use by tanners (see "tanner," below));

* Stoker (shovel coal into the roaring fireboxes of steam engines on ships and locomotives); and,

* Tanner (treat animal hides with urine and animal excrement as part of the leather-making process).

Flipping burgers or making all the changes your boss wants to the report you wrote doesn’t seem so bad now, does it?

Have a good day. Cartoon Saturday is coming tomorrow.

Bilbo