Warning Signs

We've entered a dangerous and traumatic time for the nation. Crazy people with guns run around shooting people, while other crazy people with guns think they should stand guard on the rest of us. Donald Trump, of all people, is leading in the polls as the favored GOP candidate for president. Hackers can seize control of your car. You can't say anything about anyone without being accused of being some sort of -ist. There's a crazy place where the United States of America used to be, and we need to be more careful every day about everything we say and everything we do ...

A long time back, I think I shared some of these useful warning signs with you. It's time to break them out again as we navigate our way through the legions of tinfoil hat wearers and those who are absurdly touchy about everything you say and do. Use as needed ...

No need to thank me. On top of everything else, it's an election year, and everyone is pissed off and armed to the teeth ... you need all the help you can get.

Have a good day. More thoughts tomorrow.

Bilbo

Of Mighty Explosions and Not-So-Mighty Editing

My co-worker Brenda pointed out this amazing, blog-worthy article yesterday: Something Has Exploded in a Spectacular Fashion on Uranus. However, not being able to think of a way to capitalize on it without being borderline obscene, I have decided instead to celebrate a few more great moments in editing:

If I took a pass on the explosions on Uranus, I'm surely not commenting on this one ...

Well, at least we have politicians somewhere taking a stand on something important ...

I wonder if this discussion is taking place in the same town ...

We have found two more places to strike off our list of vacation destinations ...

And ...

Ouch ...

We didn't have post-prom parties like this when I went to high school. Darn it ...

Things are getting tough in El Paso ...

I always knew the Senate was dysfunctional, but even I had no idea things were this bad ...

Some days, it just doesn't pay to get up ...

So, how was Halloween last night? We bought our usual boxcar-load of candy, and had the smallest number of trick-or-treaters in years ... of course, had we bought a smaller amount, they'd have trucked kids in from as far west as Utah and we'd have had our house egged. You can't win. My favorite was a little girl of about two in a Curious George costume who carefully transfered piece after piece of candy from our bowl to her little plastic pumpkin ... much to her mother's embarrassment. I think she's going to be a politician when she grows up.

Have a good day. Don't eat all that leftover candy at once, bwa-ha-HAAAAA!!! More thoughts tomorrow.

Bilbo

Of Trolls and Pseudonyms

There was an interesting story on NPR last night that I thought was worth bringing to your attention - "Who Are You, Really? Activists Fight for Pseudonyms."

As all of you know, almost no one with a blog (like, for instance, Bilbo) posts using their real name - they take a screen name, alias, pseudonym (from the Greek pseud- (false) + onyma (name)), or - with a nod to eViL pOp TaRt, nom de plume (French for "pen name"). People do this for many reasons: to maintain their privacy, to protect themselves from attack for taking unpopular positions on issues, or simply to be able to act stupid without having to admit who they are.

The last reason is probably the most common, or so it seems. Read the comments posted after any political story on CNN or any online newspaper site ... a small minority are thoughtful, measured, grammatical, and have good spelling and punctuation, but most are loud, rude, vulgar, racist, or downright stupid; it's no wonder that the commenters wish to hide their intellectual and social shortcomings behind a screen name.

But more and more, websites are requiring people to be able to prove their identity in order to post comments. Some newspaper sites require a commenter to provide a name and address (although these are not posted online without the commenter's permission), and many blogs or other sites require one to have a Facebook or other social networking account in order to post. Is this right?

Jimmy Orr, Managing Editor of the Los Angeles Times, was quoted in the NPR story as noting that some of his paper's comments sections still operate under what he called the "Wild West" system, where all one needs to post a comment is an email address; and he goes on to note that those sections tend to have more trolls — commenters who bait each other with racism or personal attacks. The sections of the paper which require Facebook logins, on the other hand, are comparatively civil. Orr believes that the reason for this is that "trolls don't like their friends to know they are trolls ... If you are who you [say you] are, you're less likely to leave a comment that makes you look bad."

Do we have an inherent right to anonymity when expressing our opinions? Should people be allowed to unleash their inner troll and act like an uneducated ass clown if they wish?

Simply by going online, we give up a little bit of our privacy and anonymity. But if we're going to express an opinion, we should be willing to own up to it. Many of you know me under my real name, and I don't mind sharing it with my readers once I've established that they aren't ... well ... trolls.

My mother always used to tell us, "If you don't have anything nice to say about someone, don't say anything at all." And with that in mind, I have to say that John Boehner has a nice haircut.

But that's as far as I'm willing to go, whether I write as Bilbo or as ... somebody else.

Have a good day. Be willing to own up to your opinions.

More thoughts tomorrow.

Bilbo

What a Burglar Doesn't Want You to Know ... and Other Stuff

Today is the birthday of Robert Zimmerman, probably better known to you as Bob Dylan. He's 70 today, and can't sing any better than he could at 30. Lucky for him his lyrics are good.

On this day in 1626, Peter Minuit bought the island of Manhattan from the Lenape Indians. He paid them in trade goods like cloth, kettles, axe heads, and drilling awls (not trinkets and baubles, as the legend would have you believe) worth about 60 silver Dutch guilders.

Depending on how you calculate the value of those guilders in today's money, Mr Minuit paid approximately $1000 for the property ... an amount that might amount to a down payment on a square foot of Manhattan real estate today, and which represents - at today's prices - about a 17 billion percent return on his investment. Take that, Donald Trump.

My daughter sent me an interesting article yesterday titled Things Your Burglar Won't Tell You. Good stuff, much of it pure common sense, but all valuable and all obtained from convicted burglars. Here you go:

1. Of course I look familiar. I was here just last week cleaning your carpets, painting your shutters, or delivering your new refrigerator.

2. Hey, thanks for letting me use the bathroom when I was working in your yard last week. While I was in there, I unlatched the back window to make my return a little easier.

3. Love those flowers. That tells me you have taste, and taste means there are nice things inside. Those yard toys your kids leave out always make me wonder what type of gaming system they have.

4. Yes, I really do look for newspapers piled up on the driveway. And I might leave a pizza flyer in your front door to see how long it takes you to remove it.

5. If it snows while you're out of town, get a neighbor to create car and foot tracks into the house. Virgin drifts in the driveway are a dead giveaway.

6. If decorative glass is part of your front entrance, don't let your alarm company install the control pad where I can see if it's set. That makes it too easy.

7. A good security company alarms the window over the sink, and the windows on the second floor, which often access the master bedroom - and your jewelry. It's not a bad idea to put motion detectors up there too.

8. It's raining, you're fumbling with your umbrella, and you forget to lock your door - understandable. But understand this: I don't take a day off because of bad weather.

9. I always knock first. If you answer, I'll ask for directions somewhere or offer to clean your gutters. Don't take me up on it.

10. Do you really think I won't look in your sock drawer? I always check dresser drawers, the bedside table, and the medicine cabinet.

11. Here's a helpful hint: I almost never go into kids' rooms.

12. You're right: I won't have enough time to break into that safe where you keep your valuables. But if it's not bolted down, I'll take it with me.

13. A loud TV or radio can be a better deterrent than the best alarm system. If you're reluctant to leave your TV on while you're out of town, you can buy a $35 device that works on a timer and simulates the flickering glow of a real television.

14. Sometimes, I carry a clipboard. Sometimes, I dress like a lawn guy and carry a rake. I do my best to never, ever look like a crook.

15. The two things I hate most: loud dogs and nosy neighbors.

16. I'll break a window to get in, even if it makes a little noise. If your neighbor hears one loud sound, he'll stop what he's doing and wait to hear it again. If he doesn't hear it again, he'll just go back to what he was doing. It's human nature.

17. I'm not complaining, but why would you pay all that money for a fancy alarm system and leave your house without setting it?

18. I love looking in your windows. I'm looking for signs that you're home, and for flat screen TVs or gaming systems I'd like. I'll drive or walk through your neighborhood at night, before you close the blinds, just to pick my targets.

19. Avoid announcing your vacation on your Facebook page. It's easier than you think to look up your address.

20. To you, leaving that window open just a crack during the day is a way to let in a little fresh air. To me, it's an invitation.

21. If you don't answer when I knock, I try the door. Occasionally, I hit the jackpot and walk right in.

And one last hint - if you don't like guns, keep a can of wasp spray handy, instead of pepper spray - it can deliver a seriously painful and blinding blast at an attacker from up to 30 feet away.

Just a public service from yours truly who, as ever, has your best interests at heart.

Have a good day. More thoughts tomorrow.

Bilbo

"A Collection of Hysterically Irrational Ideological Extremists."

My feelings on the subject of organized religion are no surprise to those of you who have been my faithful readers over the life of this blog. For those of you who are new to my cobwebby little corner of cyberspace, those feelings might be summarized thusly: adherence to a named, organized religion has nothing to do with leading a good ("godly," if you will) life.

Religion can be a comfort in times of difficulty, provide a moral compass for those desperately in need of one, and offer a framework within which to make sense of a frightening world. It can also lead to righteous intolerance, bigotry, violent jihad, suicide bombing, the Spanish Inquisition, pogroms, and witch-burnings. It produces garden spots like Pakistan, where those who oppose the draconian blasphemy law can be murdered with impunity while the killers are celebrated as heroes, and Saudi Arabia, where it's a crime to worship God in other than the approved way.

On a less violent, but more immediately concerning level, here at home - where the Constitution guarantees us freedom of (and from) religion - we can see the unholy marriage between the extreme religious right and the Republican party.

In an interesting article titled "The GOP's Iowa Problem," author Steve Kornacki looks at the rise of hard-core Christian fundamentalist candidates in the Republican party. His final, cautionary words are particularly apt: "It's hard to imagine any of them [extreme religious candidates] winning the GOP nomination next year, but one of them could very well win Iowa, and emerge as a major player on the national stage throughout '12 -- a non-stop headache for a GOP that desperately wants swing voters to see the party as something more than a collection of hysterically irrational ideological extremists."

"A collection of hysterically irrational ideological extremists."

That's just about the best description of noisily irresponsible Republican wingnuts I've heard in a long time. Whether driven by religious hard-liners, tax haters, or wealthy business-worshipers, the Far Right has cast aside the principled conservatism thinking people could support with its brand of half-baked I'm-okay-you're-not-worth-listening-to political-economic-religious beliefs.

One can only hope that people willing to keep an open mind - rather than an empty one - will realize what's going on and vote in large numbers next year.

In the meantime, worship at the church, synagogue, mosque, temple, ring of stones in a forest, or bonfire of your choice, as is your right. Just don't feel like you have a right to force me to do it, too. If I wanted to live in Pakistan, I'd move there.

Have a good day. More thoughts tomorrow.

Bilbo

Great Moments in Editing, Part 2

Yesterday in this space we discussed the ongoing non-issue of whether or not words have consequences. Today, we look at a few examples of how words can drive behavior ... like hysterical laughter and head-shaking. Yes, it's Great Moments in Editing, Part 2! You can find Part 1 here.

And they say schools don't teach our children proper language...

Never used. Obviously...

Well, some things take time...

I always wondered what was really in those chicken nuggets...

Yes. Yes, it is ...

One small step for a man, one giant leap for ... never mind ...

I've always wondered why professional clairvoyants never win lotteries ...

Thanks, but no thanks ...

Have a good day. Watch your words.

More thoughts tomorrow.

Bilbo

A Fringe Christmas

Now that the nights are cold and long, Agnes and I watch more television than we usually do. Well, yes, we do other things, too, but watching TV is all I'll discuss here. We have a few favorite shows, and one of mine is Fringe - the weird science fiction drama about parallel universes and bizarre happenings and Observers and ... well ... all sorts of stuff out there on the fringes of reality. I keep waiting for them to do an episode about Congress, but I suppose there's only so much unreality that a show can address and still be believable.

But anyhow, I thought it might be interesting to tune in an episode of Fringe and see how the leading characters - Peter Bishop and Olivia Dunham - might look at the holiday season ...

A Fringe Christmas

Or

Who Knows If You've Been Bad or Good...?

Peter: We’re too late. It’s already been here.

Olivia: Peter, I hope you know what you’re doing…

Peter: Look, Olivia, just like the other homes: a Douglas fir, truncated, mounted, transformed into some sort of shrine; halls decked with boughs of holly; stockings hung by the chimney, with care.

Olivia: You really think someone’s been here?

Peter: Someone. Or something.

Olivia: Peter, over here - it’s a ... a fruitcake!

Peter: Don’t touch it! Those things can be lethal!

Olivia: It’s OK. There’s a note attached: “Gonna find out who’s naughty and nice.”

Peter: It’s judging them, Olivia. It’s making a list.

Olivia: Who? What are you talking about?

Peter: Ancient mythology tells of an obese humanoid entity who could travel at great speed in a craft powered by antlered servants. Once each year, near the winter solstice, this creature is said to descend from the heavens to reward its followers and punish disbelievers with jagged chunks of anthracite.

Olivia: But that’s legend, Peter—a story told by parents to frighten children. Surely you don’t believe it?

Peter: Something was here tonight, Olivia. Check out the bite marks on this gingerbread man. Whatever tore through this plate of cookies was massive … and in a hurry.

Olivia: It left crumbs everywhere. And look, Peter, this milk glass has been completely drained.

Peter: It gorged itself, Olivia. It fed without remorse.

Olivia: But why would they leave it milk and cookies?

Peter: Appeasement. Tonight is The Eve, and nothing can stop its wilding.

Olivia: But if this thing does exist, how did it get in? The doors and windows were locked. There’s no sign of forced entry.

Peter: Unless I miss my guess, it came through the fireplace.

Olivia: Wait a minute, Peter. If you're saying some huge creature landed on the roof and came down the chimney, you’re crazy. The flue is barely six inches wide! Nothing could get through there.

Peter: But what if it could alter its shape…move in all directions?

Olivia: You mean, like a bowl full of jelly?

Peter: Exactly, Olivia! I’ve never told anyone this, but when I was a child, my home was visited. I saw the creature. It had long white strips of fur surrounding its ruddy, misshapen head. Its bloated torso was red and white. I’ll never forget the horror. I turned away, and when I looked back it had somehow taken on the facial features of my father!

Olivia: That's impossible!

Peter: I know what I saw, Olivia. And that night, it read my mind. It brought me a Mr Potato Head, Olivia. It knew I wanted a Mr Potato Head!

Olivia: I’m sorry, Peter, but you’re asking me to disregard the laws of physics. You want me to believe in some supernatural being who soars across the skies and brings gifts to good little girls and boys? Listen to what you’re saying. Do you understand the repercussions? If this gets out, they’ll close the Fringe Division!

Peter: Olivia, listen to me! It knows when you are sleeping. It knows when you’re awake.

Olivia: But we have no proof!

Peter: Last year, on this exact date, SETI radiotelescopes detected bogies in the airspace over twenty-seven states. The White House ordered a Condition Red.

Olivia: But that was a meteor shower!

Peter: Yes ... officially. But then two days ago, eight prized Scandinavian reindeer vanished from the National Zoo in Washington, DC. Nobody - not even the zookeeper - was told about it. The government doesn’t want people to know about Project Kringle. They fear that if this thing is proved to exist, then the public would stop spending half its annual income in a holiday shopping frenzy. Retail markets will collapse. Olivia, they can not let the world believe this creature lives. They’ll do whatever it takes to ensure another silent night!

Olivia: Peter, I…

Peter: Shhhhhhh! Do you hear what I hear?

Olivia: On the roof. It sounds like … like a clatter!

Peter: The truth is up there, Olivia! Let’s see what’s the matter...

What will they find? And what will you, Dear Readers, find when you come down the stairs on Christmas morning...?

It isn't just the NSA that knows if you've been bad or good, and the TSA that keeps lists of those who are naughty and nice, and the CIA that sends drones after those who have been really bad.

Don't ask ...

Don't tell ...

And watch the skies this Christmas ...

Have a good day. Someone is watching.

More thoughts tomorrow.

Bilbo

Great Moments in Editing

You may not realize it, but I put a great deal of effort into putting together quality blog posts for your enlightenment and entertainment. I carefully craft what I want to say, edit carefully, proof-read each post a gazillion times before I hit the "Publish Post" button ...

... and, all too often, later find embarrassing typos that I have to go back and fix.

But that's the beauty of the Internet - I can go back and fix those mistakes with a relative minimum of difficulty. In print media, you're not quite so lucky. Here are a few examples of editing that didn't quite make the grade:

Perhaps we have found a new test for potential Congressional candidates ...

Stop the presses!

Well, yes ...

Friends don't let friends ... never mind ...

Is this a counting problem, or a recognition problem? ...

And finally, this one isn't really a typo, but I just couldn't resist it ...

And now it's now time to go back to work after a long and enjoyable holiday weekend. I'm not complaining, though ... at least I have a job to go back to. One more thing to be thankful for.

Have a good day. Edit well. More thoughts tomorrow.

Bilbo

Security Haiku ... and Bumper Stickers ... and Evolution

The popular Japanese poetry form called haiku creates short, elegant poems free of every extraneous word. It's very simple: each haiku is three lines long - the first line has five syllables, the second seven, and the third five again. It's deceptively simple, but creates beautiful and haunting poems.

It also lends itself very well to humor.

One of my friends sent me a link to a collection of security-related haiku at the Greater Greater Washington website. Here are three of the best ...

Welcome to DC

You need two forms of ID

Please remove your shoes

This is who I am

I am bored but in control

Let me scan your bags

and...

Yesterday yellow

Today went up to orange

Wake me when it's green

Speaking of all things security (are you enjoying those pat-downs at the airport?), here are a few bumper stickers to raise your security consciousness, courtesy of my friend Bob ... and the Transportation Security Administration, of course ...

Can't see London/Can't see France/Unless we see your underpants.

Grope Discounts Available!

If we did our job any better, we'd have to buy you dinner first.

Don't worry, my hands are still warm from the last guy.

It's not a grope, it's a freedom pat.

and...

We rub you the wrong way, so you can be on your way.

In other news, today is the anniversary of the date in 1859 on which Charles Darwin published his classic work titled On the Origin of Species by Means of Natural Selection.

Darwin's theory (which was not new) argued that organisms gradually evolve through a process he called natural selection. In natural selection, organisms with genetic variations that suit their environment tend to have more descendants than organisms of the same species that lack the variation, thus influencing the overall genetic makeup of the species. Darwin had formulated his theory of natural selection by 1844, but he was reluctant to reveal his ideas to the public because they so obviously contradicted the biblical account of creation. Indeed, even today - in the face of overwhelming evidence - many people insist on believing in "creationism."

Charles Darwin died in 1882, but his theory of evolution by natural selection remains central to our understanding of the development of life.

Except for the development of hardshell Republicans and Democrats. Nobody can explain them. Or explain anything to them.

Have a good day. Be secure. Evolve. More thoughts tomorrow.

Bilbo

Of Big Bangs and Little Particles

Yesterday one of my co-workers passed me a link to this amazing article from the BBC: Large Hadron Collider (LHC) Generates a 'Mini-Big Bang.'

The LHC is an enormous scientific complex that forms a circular tunnel 27 kilometers (16.7 miles) long beneath the border between Switzerland and France. On November 7th, scientists used the vast machine to accelerate lead ions to almost unimaginable speeds before smashing them together to create a miniature 'Big Bang,' duplicating the conditions thought to exist in the first milliseconds after the real 'Big Bang' and resulting in temperatures more than a million times hotter than the center of the Sun.

Two questions come to mind regarding this amazing scientific feat:

1. Why on earth would we want to do this in the first place?; and,

2. If the experiment created a temperature a million times hotter than the center of the sun, why didn't it melt the whole complex?

Hmmm...?

According to the BBC article, the experiment allowed scientists to observe the conditions that existed - literally - at the beginning of time. It should permit them to study the "Higgs Boson," quarks, gluons, and other odd particles that make up the universe at its very smallest level of existence. I find this fascinating. I actually thought that a boson was the guy who blows the silly whistle when the admiral comes on board the ship, but I guess I was wrong.

Many people object to the existence of the LHC because of their fear that it could create a true 'big bang,' a vast and uncontrollable explosion that could, theoretically, destroy the earth. This fear has apparently not come to pass. Nevertheless, there are other dangers that could result from the LHC's experiments ...

I am greatly concerned that future experiments with the LHC could release enormous quantities of morons - highly-charged political particles with a high rate of spin, no atomic (or intellectual, for that matter) weight, and - unlike quarks - no charm. We've already got enough of those that have been generated by the Republican and Democratic parties, the Tea Party, and similar critical masses that form under conditions of intellectual vacuum.

Be afraid. Be very afraid.

Have a good day. Beware of morons.

More thoughts tomorrow.

Bilbo

Remembering to Forget

Depending on how long you've been with me on this blogging journey, you may remember a post I wrote back on December 17th of 2006 on the subject of forgetting...or, more accurately, not forgetting. That post was based on an interesting observation by Lance Morrow in his book Evil: An Investigation - in discussing the mutual, visceral hatreds of all sides in the wreckage of what was once Yugoslavia, he asked a simple, but profound question: what happens if no one ever forgets?

He was addressing the issue of lingering hatreds ... the endless nursing of deadly grudges and animosities that prevents people from making peace and moving on to a better future. Israelis and Palestinians in the Levant, Serbs, Croats and Muslims in the former Yugoslavia, Armenians and Turks, blacks and whites, North Koreans and everyone else - what happens when we never forget past ills, real or imagined?

Yesterday I found a new take on this idea in this article by Viktor Mayer-Schonberger - "Remembering the Importance of Forgetting."

In this article, Mr Mayer-Schonberger discusses what he calls "the permanancy of the past in the present," the fact that nothing digitally saved ever really goes away. Every e-mail you ever wrote, every document you ever saved, every digital photo you ever took tends to last forever, because storage is so cheap and easy that the default option today is save rather than delete.

I know it's true. When I bought my first computer in 1988, it had the biggest hard drive you could get at the time: a staggering 20 MB. I remember saying to Agnes, "Wow...20 megabytes...we'll never fill it up!" Today, of course, it's not unusual to have a single photo or document that's 20 MB or larger. When the 250 gigabtyte hard drive on my Mac failed a few months ago, I replaced it with a 1 terabyte drive...and the local stores are selling 1.5 and 2 terabyte drives.

It's now easier just to save everything than to go to the trouble of figuring out what to delete. At the office, we get periodic stern messages from our IT managers warning us to archive or delete files because our shared storage drives are nearing capacity. For a project I'm now working on, I have at least seven different versions of the document stored...and there will no doubt be several others by the time all the coordination comments are adjudicated. Oh, and there are also many versions of the comment adjudication documents that I also have to save to show how we accommodated everyone's concerns.

It's worse at home. In the days of film cameras, we filled up a 12- or 24- or 36-shot roll of film, had it developed, threw away the bad pictures, and saved the best ones in photo albums and scrapbooks. Today's digital cameras allow us to take hundreds of pictures and only print the ones we decide we like...but there's no need to delete the others, because storage is cheap and easy. The picture file on my Mac is 17.83 gigabytes in size...and doesn't include all the pictures I've archived on CDs and DVDs, or the ones I haven't yet transferred over from my laptop to the new 1 terabyte drive on the Mac.

When Agnes and I vacationed in Alaska, I took over 1200 pictures in seven days. When we went to Mexico, I took thousands more. I have no idea how many pictures of the five grandchildren I have.

The default option is save ... up to the point where you no longer have any idea what you have, and what's really important. As Mr Mayer-Schonberg writes,

"...it is worth remembering that there is a lot of value in forgetting. Forgetting permits us to transcend details and generalize, to see the forest and not just the trees."

What if nobody ever forgets? What if we continually are able to dredge up information we'd forgotten was out there, that may no longer be valid but can be reinterpreted and taken out of context to create from the past a false image of the present? Mr Mayer-Schonberg writes that,

"...we are increasingly confronted with outdated information taken out of context, from anachronistic news stories to emotional e-mails and compromising pictures that we had long ago forgotten. For example, more and more employers are researching job applicants through Google and social-networking Web sites. There are already many cases of people being denied jobs or promotions because of what is unearthed. But these are reflections of a person’s past; they rarely provide accurate information about the present."

Can we put the digital toothpaste back in the tube (or, more accurately, squeeze more of it out)? Can we learn the need to delete the unnecessary as well as the need to save that which is truly important? Can we even tell the difference any more? What digital time bombs are waiting in our blogs and our Facebook pages, waiting to blow up in our faces?

It's worth thinking about.

We all know the old adage about digital documents: save early, save often. Perhaps now we need its companion adage: delete regularly, delete ruthlessly.

Because what if nobody ever forgets?

Have a good day. Delete something. More thoughts tomorrow.

Bilbo

Doing Things for the Right Reasons

Our local Metro transit system has taken its lumps this year, with several serious accidents (including the terrible train crash earlier this summer in which nine people were killed), pedestrians being run over by buses, a bus operator fired for kidnapping a passenger, suicides who jumped in front of oncoming trains, and the generally spotty service to which we've all become accustomed.

According to this article in yesterday's Washington Post, Metrobus drivers are taking action to improve safety: they are going to operate strictly "by the book," following every safety regulation to a tee. The article quotes a letter written by the head of the local transit workers union to union members in which she says, "Now is the time for us to protect ourselves and our jobs. . . . Don't give Metro any reason to write us up, suspend us, or fire us anymore!!!!"

I'm puzzled by this. Does it mean that adhering to proper procedures to protect bus drivers' jobs is more important than adhering to proper procedures because it keeps everyone safe?

The article goes on to state that, "Operators said they plan to observe posted speed limits" and that "Operators will be following posted speed limits in all jurisdictions."

Again, I find myself puzzled. I could have sworn that speed limits were ... well ... intended to limit speeds to safe levels on streets. Does this mean that bus operators have been encouraged to drive at unsafe speeds? Might this possibly have something to do with this year's dismal safety record?

It gets worse. Reading on in the article, we find that strict adherence to rules means that "...buses won't leave garages if there are safety-related defects, such as horns, turn signals or windshield wipers that don't work;" and that, "In anticipation of the union campaign, mechanics were working overtime early Tuesday to fix broken horns on buses at the Northern garage..."

So, is this what it takes to get Metro and the transit workers' union to take safety seriously? Mechanics are working overtime (at overtime pay rates, no doubt) to fix safety problems because the union has decided to work to the rules? Would we still be riding unsafe buses if the union hadn't been concerned about "giv(ing) Metro any reason to write us up, suspend us, or fire us anymore"? When would these safety problems have been repaired during normal work hours?

In fairness to Metro, I realize that the terrible traffic conditions in this area make it difficult to adhere to published schedules, and I'm sure that the temptation to drive too fast in order to make up schedule timing is always there. But is driving at unsafe speeds a standard policy that is only now being reconsidered?

I'm glad Metro is doing something to improve its safety record. But I'm greatly offended by the apparent cause of the union's sudden focus on safety - protection of jobs - as reflected in its letter to its members. Yes, it's tough to lose ones job, particularly in this economy. But if you're losing your job because you drive unsafely, I have no sympathy. And if you are a Metro system manager who is directing drivers and train operators to operate unsafe vehicles in an unsafe manner, perhaps you need to lose your job, too.

Prices go up, service goes down, and the people dealing with the riding public don't seem to give a rat's rear end about customer service. It would be nice if there were a safe and reliable alternative to Metro, but the only alternatives for many of us are:

1. Drive yourself to work every day, contributing to the traffic gridlock; or,

2. Move to a new residence across the street from where you work.

Neither of which is practical for most of us.

So, Metro bus and train operators: I expect you to operate safe vehicles in a safe manner. Metro system managers: I expect you to place the safety of your operators and riders first.

Is this too much to ask?

Have a good day. More thoughts tomorrow.

Bilbo

The Hidden Price of Progress

One of the things I look back on with nostalgia is having my purchases rung up by a cashier on an old-fashioned cash register. You know, the ones that weighed 1700 pounds and had a marble writing surface, fancy brass decorations, and little numbered signs that popped up in the window when the keys were pushed, and which made a loud and satisfying ka-ching! when the sale was verified by pulling a lever or pushing the "Sale" button. One like this, perhaps...

That was back when you got a bit of a show for your money, as opposed to just a bunch of beeps and squeaks as bored cashiers draw your purchase across a laser window, and rows of lighted, inflated numbers march across a cold, blue screen. There's no adventure and entertainment value in checking out any more.

Or is there?

My beloved Agnes is a wonderful lady, but is suspicious by nature. Her going-in assumption when dealing with stores and salespeople of all sorts is that they are going to try to cheat her somehow, and she must be ever-vigilant to prevent this. One example is our typical trip to the Costco warehouse store, where we typically buy a large cartload of items. Each individual item may be low-priced, but in the aggregate, the cart will usually total out to something approaching the GNP of a typical third-world country. Agnes is usually convinced that an error has been made by the cashier, and will carefully review the receipt line-by-line, trying to translate the truncated description of each item (what's a LG BX HND GRNDS?) before muttering to herself that it's usually correct.

Except when it isn't.

Yesterday, we visited a local store. I had run out of my favorite vanilla syrup, and Agnes picked up a small bag of chocolate and a bag of chips. The cashier dragged each item across the laser window, the system beeped accusingly, and a total sale of $14.27 magically appeared in glowing yellow numbers on the screen. While I paid the bill, Agnes disappeared back into the store, reappearing a few minutes later to tell me that the chocolate - which had rung up at $4.49 - was posted on the shelf at $3.99. She wanted to confront the cashier and demand the extra 50 cents back, but I was tired of shopping and in a hurry to move on, and so we did.

Agnes believes (and I tend to agree) that stores nowadays probably make a modest killing on the difference between the price marked on the store shelves and the price carried in the computer that the laser scanner matches with the product. After all, you almost never see a price tag actually stuck on an item any more, particularly in a big supermarket...you see the price on the shelf tag, but the item itself usually only has a bar code...

If you have a cart full of things that the cashier is whipping across the scanner at the speed of light, and if you don't remember the shelf-indicated price of each item, you may be overcharged without realizing it.

Agnes has accumulated a store of anecdotal evidence to support her contention that stores are gouging us on this difference. She notes 5-6 recent incidents at various stores in which she has caught items scanning at prices in excess of their labeled cost...usually by a small amount (25-50 cents) which she interprets as the threshold below which the stores probably figure a customer won't think it's worth the time and trouble to come back and complain.

Being one who will generally give the benefit of the doubt, I tend to interpret this phenomenon a little less Machiavellianly (new word alert, Scholastic Scribe!) than Agnes does. I imagine that it's fairly easy to have things slip through the cracks between programming the sales computer and coordinating those prices with the labels on the shelves. Nevertheless, the economy being what it is, I wouldn't put it past some unscrupulous merchants to use this as an underhanded scheme to rip off unwary customers.

Things used to be a lot easier, for the customer, anyhow. When the cashier had to punch several keys to raise flags in a cash register window ($2.49 = $2.00 + $0.40 + $0.09), then push a separate button or crank a lever to "ring up" each sale (we still say that, even though cash registers no longer give that loud and satisfying ka-ching! as the sale is registered), we had time to see what we were being charged, and to compare the price stuck or written on the item with the amount shown on the register.

So, what do you think? Are these innocent errors, or are stores using technology and psychology to rip us off for small amounts they think we'll ignore?

Inquiring minds want to know.

And this inquiring mind wants to go and enjoy the last day of the three-day weekend (for Federal employees and contractors, anyhow) before heading back to the old grindstone. There are leaves to be raked, summer items to be stored, fall and winter items to be brought from storage, and many more honey-do's to be tackled.

Or, if I'm lucky, avoided.

Have a good day. More thoughts tomorrow.

Bilbo