Hello From Germany!

This post comes to you from the lobby of the Holiday Inn in partly-sunny Singen am Hohentwiel, Germany. We arrived safe and sound a few days ago and are visiting Agnes's parents (you may remember that her father celebrated his 90th birthday on the 1st). I'll be regaling you with all the stories (and there are many) later, but for now I thought I'd send a few pictures to whet your appetites...

We found this nice place for a retirement home - Hohenzollern Castle. Unfortunately, the current owners don't want to sell...

Agnes's cousin Anna took us to visit the castle while we were visiting her in Reutlingen, so I had the chance to spend the day in the company of two beautiful ladies...

On reaching Singen, we all went out to dinner to celebrate Papa's 90th birthday. Here are he and Mama, with Agnes's niece Lea. She was sitting directly across from our Leya, and there were some confusing moments with names...


Singen is a very beautiful city, even though it's mainly industrial. It's name of Singen am Hohentwiel comes from the name of the ruined castle on a large volcanic plug that overlooks the city. This is what the Hohentwiel looks like from Mama and Papa's balcony...

And this is what it looks like from elsewhere in the city...

Singen also has a beautiful city garden and park with a large population of ducks that sit around waiting for bored two-year-olds to feed them...


Here are two other views of the city park...hard to believe this lies in the middle of an industrial city...

Well, that has to be all for now. It's almost 10:00 PM here, which means it is about 4:00 PM in Washington. I'm over the jet lag, but keeping up with Leya is pretty exhausting, too.

For those of you wondering (Mike) where your postcards are, they were mailed from the post office here in Singen earlier today. I'll probably be home before you get them, but it's the thought that counts, right?

Have a good day. More thoughts when I can stay awake long enough to write a decent post.

Bilbo

Off on Vacation

In less than 12 hours, Agnes and I will be leaving for Germany to visit her family and help celebrate her father's 90th birthday. The suitcases are packed, the camera batteries charged, the passports double-checked, and we're just about ready to go.

I plan to keep posting this blog and my Facebook page while we're in Germany, but we probably won't have any guaranteed connectivity for a week or so. Bear with me and don't give up...we'll be back.

With pictures!

Stay well...see you in a week or so.

Bilbo

Who's Afraid of the Big, Bad Government?

Since this will probably be my last post for a week or so, I thought it ought to focus on an important and timely topic. Like the national health care debate, and what it says about our love-hate relationship with government.

I'm sorry, did I say debate? What I meant to say was meaningless shouted accusation and innuendo fueled by questionable statistics and political buffoonery.

Few problems are more important, and few are less likely to be satisfactorily resolved any time soon. As with many other thorny issues, there is an element of truth and sincerity on the part of every side to the argument...but the elements of truth are so deeply buried under hurled accusations and countercharges that the average person can't begin to understand what the options are, much less evaluate which one is the best.

One of the most amazing aspects of this debate is what it says about our views of and relationship to our government. As soon as any mention is made of a health-care option that involves any degree of government involvement, the airwaves and print media are filled with ads that thunder about how the world will end and we will all die horrible, lingering deaths if that inept government sinks its twisted claws into our medical care. Announcers, their voices dripping with scorn, warn us of the unspeakable danger of unelected government bureaucrats making decisions on our health care.

Hello... hello... can we take a moment and cash a reality check here?

You may not have noticed it, but unelected bureaucrats are already calling the shots on what sort of care you receive. The only difference is that they don't work for the government (which we elect), they work for insurance companies and the health management industry (which we don't).

The American tradition of mistrust of government is rooted deep in our national psyche. It began with rebellion against the arbitrary authority of a distant king, and continues to this day. We don't trust government writ large, and still less the fallible individuals who compose the leadership of that government. I'm no different in my scorn for individual lawmakers than anyone else.

But is the government really as bad as we think?

Take a minute and read this article by Julian Zelizer, a professor of history and public affairs at Princeton University's Woodrow Wilson School. In it, Professor Zelizer looks at the history of the Medicare program as an example of how the government can create a successful and beneficial program. Whether you agree with his analysis or not, it's useful to read something that takes a bit less hysterical approach than most of the drivel you read or hear nowadays.

In a perfect world, when we needed medical treatment we would walk down our tree-lined streets to the clapboard home of the local doctor behind its whitewashed picket fence. We'd go in and a kindly, avuncular Marcus Welby would carefully examine us, prescribe necessary medicines that would be filled for free by the local pharmacist, and never mention payment for his services. But the world ain't perfect. Marcus Welby owes his medical school hundreds of thousands of dollars for his education...and wants to make a decent living, and the drugs he prescribes are developed by companies that spend billions of dollars on research and development, testing, and lawsuits...and want to make a profit.

One way or another, decisions on our health care are going to be made not just by kindly doctors, but by people hunched over ledgers and computer screens in hidden offices. We just need to decide whether those people - those bureaucrats - work for the government over which we have some measure of control, or for an insurance company focused on profits, which we don't.

Let's stop shouting and start thinking and discussing.

Have a good day. More thoughts later.

Bilbo

Handwriting, RIP

This past February, I wrote a post titled "The Write Stuff," in which I blogged about Kitty Burns Flournoy's fascinating book, Script and Scribble: The Rise and Fall of Handwriting. Handwriting, or cursive as it's sometimes called, is a dying art, having been replaced by keyboarding skills taught to people who communicate exclusively by telephone, e-mail, text-messaging, SMS, Twitter, and other electronic media. Why teach beautiful handwriting when nobody writes any more? In my February post, I wrote that "...good handwriting, like good speaking, is an important component of how we are perceived by others. Time was that elegant handwriting was a sign of a good education and general social grace. Nowadays we print or type, and typewritten letters offer no sense of the personal effort that went into the creation of the epistle. For business writing, typing may be all right...for personal correspondence, there's nothing like ink on paper in one's own hand." Just another useless and nostalgic rant from your favorite professional curmudgeon.

The latest issue of Time Magazine has an article by Claire Suddath titled "Mourning the Death of Handwriting" which brings back this topic. Ms Suddath traces the beginning of the long, slow decline of handwriting to the educational theories of the 1920's, which held that "...because children learned to read by looking at books printed in manuscript rather than cursive, they should learn to write the same way." Today, cursive writing is introduced in the third grade and then pretty much dropped as a topic of instruction. Children learn to print, then they learn basic handwriting, and then they learn ... to type. What remains is a hodgepodge of printing and a scrawl that vaguely looks like cursive. It's sad.

Over the past year or so, I've exchanged real, handwritten letters - real ink on real paper, with envelopes and stamps - with some of my blogging friends. Amanda, John, Fiona, and Andrea have all sent letters or cards (Amanda being the reigning champion with two long letters, two cards, and a postcard). Mike sent a letter that simply contained a newspaper clipping, which sort of counts. And the common comment each of them has made at least once is a variation on "my handwriting is really bad."

Handwriting styles have changed more or less continuously over the years, from the very ornate Victorian styles to the clean and elegant Palmer script I learned from the nuns at St Teresa's School in Pittsburgh all those years ago. Of course, those who have received my letters know that my handwriting is nothing to write home about either, ha-ha...my letters tend to have neat and tidy handwriting at the outset, and then degenerate into something like a seismograph recording of the latest Chinese earthquake by the end of the second page. It's too bad.

I do a lot of e-mailing just like everybody else, although I draw the line at text-messaging and "twittering." But I really do love writing genuine letters. The problem isn't that my handwriting is so bad, but that I just don't have the time to write the sort of long and chatty letters I would enjoy receiving. Most of my friends only get the basic, semi-personal Christmas letter.

There are all sorts of organizations dedicated to saving this or that endangered creature, but nobody seems to be worried about saving handwriting as a skill. I can't be the only person who cares about this...where are the rest of you?

Why not take a few minutes and write ol' Bilbo a letter? I promise to respond (and some of you know that I really do). Let's save the Post Office, the stores that sell stationery and fine writing instruments, and the teachers who impart cursive skills to our children.

Let's do the write thing, right now. We could spend our time on worse things.

And most of us do.

Have a good day. More thoughts tomorrow.

Bilbo

Getting Ready to Travel

After all the months of waiting and planning, it's hard to believe that our trip to Germany starts on Tuesday. We haven't been back to Germany for about three years, and so the level of excitement and anticipation is high. Even the thought of having to do the airport security kabuki dance, followed by eight hours spent jammed into Spanish Inquisition-quality airline seats seems almost bearable.

But there are lots of things you have to consider when taking a long trip, and even more when that trip is to an overseas destination...

- Passports up to date, and any visas needed? (Yes, and no)

- Is the airline still in business? (So far)

- Practiced looking innocent at passport control? (Yes)

- Arrange to stop the mail and newspaper deliveries? (Yes to both)

- Will key electrical devices work on the voltage available at the destination? (Yes, and I have plug adapters so that our American-style two-blade grounded plugs will fit European two-pin outlets. Useful information here)

- Will our cell phones work in Europe? (Still need to find this out, but not having a digital leash for two weeks isn't necessarily a bad thing)

- Laptops charged and loaded with the desired family history files, games, movies, etc? (Yes)

- Puzzle books and reading material for the airplane and train? (Yes)

- Camera charged and ready, equipped with large-capacity memory card and card reader for the laptop? (Yes)

- Travelers' checks bought, enough Euros for the initial expenses on arrival obtained, and credit cards ready to go? (Yes to all)

- Desired clothing and shoes cleaned, folded, and ready to pack? (You don't know Agnes very well, do you? It's not the absolute last minute yet)

- Can Bilbo lift the suitcases onto overhead train racks without incurring his third hernia? (Stay tuned)

- Ensured we're still on speaking terms with Agnes's cousin we planned to stay with for a few days? (Yes)

- Made sure the rest of the family knows how to reach us in an emergency? (Yes)

Okay, I guess we're ready.

Now, some of you have asked about whether I'll be posting the blog and my Facebook page while we're gone. I plan to try to update more or less regularly, but I'm not sure we'll have Internet connectivity until we reach our hotel in Singen. Worst case - you might have to wait until we get back on August 12th...but you'll manage. Mike and Amanda, Andrea, and John and Fiona will keep you entertained. And I'll come back with pictures! And stories! And observations and cranky gripes and other stuff!

And the beauty of Internet travelogues is, of course, that you can just surf someplace else when you get bored.

Okay, the countdown has started. Visit here tomorrow and Monday for the final pre-departure flails.

Have a good day. More thoughts tomorrow.

Bilbo

Cartoon Saturday

An 8-year old Liberian girl who was gang-raped by a group of Liberian boys ranging in age from 9 to 14 has been placed in the custody of child protective services in Phoenix after her parents said she had "shamed and embarrassed" them; a Saudi Arabian man has been arrested after bragging about his sex life on television; public mailboxes are disappearing across America as people increasingly communicate by telephone and e-mail; the international body which governs competitive swimming has outlawed the use of high-tech swimsuits which give some swimmers a competitive advantage; and die-hard conservatives continue to insist - in a campaign fueled by ignorance and innuendo - that President Obama is actually a Kenyan citizen and thus ineligible to be president.

If ever you needed Cartoon Saturday, it's now.

This week features cartoons on two topics: death and lawyers. No, not death to lawyers, although some would say this is not a bad idea, either.

You may have wondered about the early experiences that shape future lawyers ...

Or about how experience as Boy Scouts affects lawyers when they grow up ...

Contrary to what evidence would indicate and many of us believe, serious discussions about ethical behavior often take place within big law firms ...

Death is another pretty serious topic which nevertheless often finds its way into cartoons. There are the just plain silly ones ...

There are those that bring death up to date ...

And, finally, there are those that remind us of the old adage about the inevitability of ... well ... you know ...

Here's one more bonus cartoon for today. I saw this one not long ago and thought it was appropriate as Agnes and I approach the magic contractual two-year point at which we can upgrade our cell phones. We all know that you can't just buy a phone any more - you buy a hand-held device to play games, take pictures, send e-mail, surf the web, and run hundreds of other apps. Some of those apps can be pretty specialized ...

Have a good day. More thoughts tomorrow.

Bilbo

DUMBCON 1

Those of you who have served in the military may recall that the American armed services use a set of numbered "conditions" to briefly express desired states of readiness, and particular actions to be taken without further orders. The best-known is the Defense Condition, or DEFCON, which has five levels - DEFCON 5 is normal, day-to-day operations, with everyone singing kumbaya and Kim Jong-Il acting no more stupid than usual, whereas DEFCON 1, the highest level, represents the need to enjoy that last roll in the hay with your beloved because the nukes are on the way. That's a bit of an oversimplification, but you get the idea.

There are other types of conditions as well, all expressed on the same numbered scale as the DEFCON (with 5 being lowest and 1 highest). There's the Force Protection Condition (FPCON - a measure of the threat to your installations and forces), the Information Condition (INFOCON - which expresses the assessed threat to networks and information systems), the Readiness Condition (REDCON - a measure of the overall readiness of military forces), and the CONCON (a wild French dance, ha, ha).

These are all well and good, but they don't do much good for most of us on a day-to-day basis. We need a way to express the prevailing conditions we encounter every day.

I propose the establishment of an official national Stupidity Condition - the DUMBCON. Here's are some examples of how it works:

DUMBCON 5 - ordinary, day-to-day level of stupidity. Congress is in session, Nancy Pelosi is still using expensive Air Force aircraft to commute back and forth to California, gas is pushing $3.00 per gallon, and people actually pay attention to morons like Ayman al-Zawahiri. Lindsey Lohan is arrested again for something or other. People continue to listen to rap music.

DUMBCON 4 - things are more stupid than usual. Washington, DC Metrorail trains crash because nobody wants to pay to keep the system in good repair. Congress insists on spending money on military equipment the services don't want, but which are built in the districts of key lawmakers. Mahmoud Ahmedinejad of Iran makes a speech on any topic. Osama bin Laden issues another video or audio tape that gets 24/7 air time on al-Jazeera television.

DUMBCON 3 - things are getting pretty stupid. President Sarkozy of France says high-speed internet access is a basic human right. People continue to deny the Holocaust. Kim Jong-il petulantly launches a few more missiles because he's not getting what he wants. Hamas and the Israelis continue to play a fatal version of "After You, Alphonse," blaming each other for their latest outrages. Sonia Sotomayor gets a free pass after claiming that a "wise Latina" would make better judicial decisions than a white man.

DUMBCON 2 - start shaking your head - it's getting really stupid out there. People keep listening to clueless blowhards like Rush Limbaugh, Ann Coulter, and Nancy Pelosi. A crazy person uses pistols and high-powered rifles to kill large numbers of people, and the NRA says that the guns are irrelevant, that the killer would still have killed the people if he didn't have guns - he'd just have smothered them with pillows or something. A chunk of ice the size of Manhattan breaks off the Arctic ice cap, and critics of global warming blame...something else.

DUMBCON 1 - stupidity beyond your wildest dreams. Go back to bed and hide under the pillows. Michael Jackson dies and receives news coverage 24 hours a day for two weeks. Former Mayor Marion Barry of DC gets away with another outrageous act and blames criticism of his behavior on racism. Businesses increase prices because of "increased costs," but your employer wants you to accept wage cuts and IOUs. Congress spends billions on silly earmarks, but can't manage to craft a plan that will ensure health care for all Americans.

You get the idea. Write to your elected reprehensives and demand that we get something more useful for day-to-day planning than a color-coded terrorism threat level - demand the DUMBCON.

Have a good day. We're at DUMBCON 1. More thoughts tomorrow.

Bilbo

The World's Worst Tourists

As we get ready for our trip to Germany to celebrate the 90th birthday of Agnes's father, I've been observing the hordes of tourists that descend upon Washington, DC, at this time every year. I'm looking for pointers on how not to be a tourist. Some of the reasons tourists are hated in DC include:

Jaywalking ...

Insistence on standing on the left side of the Metro escalators, blocking those of us who are in a hurry to catch a train; and,

Reaching the top or bottom of an escalator and immediately stopping to get their bearings, so that the still-moving escalators roll you right into them.

Are Americans the same when we travel outside the country? Do we do stupid touristy things? Is the "Ugly American" still a valid stereotype?

Maybe not. At least, maybe not completely.

According to this article from the French news agency AFP which reported the results of a study of the global hotel industry, the French are the world's worst tourists. They are described as rude, penny-pinching, and terrible at foreign languages. At the other end of the spectrum, Japanese are characterized as clean and tidy, polite, quiet and uncomplaining; along with the Japanese, Canadians are reported to be the least likely to complain loudly when things don't go right or meet their expectations. Sharing the bottom rung of the yucky tourist ladder with the French are Greeks and Spaniards. The French did score some positive points, however, for elegance (a category in which they placed third), discretion, and cleanliness.

British tourists took second place for their overall behavior, politeness, quietness and (oddly enough) elegance, taking a surprise second place in dress sense only to the Italians.

We so-called Ugly Americans were rated as more likely than the French to try to speak the local language (the French don't really recognize the existence of a language other than French, anyhow), and we tend to be the most generous tippers. On the other hand, Americans are said to be the least tidy, the loudest, the worst complainers, and the most badly dressed.

Looks like I have my work cut out for me. So far, here's how I think I stack up:

Speak the local language - yes.

Quiet and polite - well, generally yes, although I'm less likely to suffer fools gladly than I used to be.

Tip generously - yes, with appropriate guidance from Agnes.

Don't dress like a garish American tourist - Agnes makes sure of that.

Don't stick my gum on walls or kiss inanimate objects (read more here) - check.

Looks like I'm ready. We leave on Tuesday...I'll let you know how it comes out.

Have a good day. More thoughts tomorrow.

Bilbo

Tokyo Crime Wave

If you live anywhere in the world outside the United States and listen to our news broadcasts, you'd think that the country was awash in guns, people are being murdered everywhere, and no one can leave his heavily-guarded house for fear of becoming the victim of random street crime. This isn't actually the case. Yes, we are awash in guns (gun worship being the American national religion), but America is like everyplace else - as long as one is careful and avoids known dangerous areas, crime is not that much of a problem. Of course, I live in Washington, DC, where we are used to the elegant forms of criminal activity practiced more-or-less legally by Congress, so my opinion may be a bit skewed.

In the context of discussing criminal activity, this interesting article appeared in yesterday's Washington Post: "In Tokyo, a High-Pitched Whine Repels Teens, Attracts TV Crews."

Japan is a very law-abiding nation in which, according to the article, "Shootings are exceedingly rare. Most people don't lock their bikes. Lost wallets are returned." This is very bad for television news crews, which - in Japan as in the United States - thrive on the lurid reporting of terrifying crimes (as the news adage goes, "if it bleeds, it leads"). If you're a Japanese news reporter, what do you do to earn your daily bread in a country where everyone - even the criminals - is polite?

According to the article filed by Blaine Hardin of the Washington Post Foreign Service, "By Tokyo standards, Kitashikahama Park in Adachi Ward is a crime-infested hellhole. Thirteen acts of vandalism have been committed there in the past year. Toilet seats and windows have been broken. Spent firecrackers have been found. Some residents living near the park have lost sleep. The perpetrators, still on the loose, are believed to be neighborhood teenagers, probably in junior high school."

And what was the plan to clean up this crime-infested hellhole? Simple. Put up a sound system that broadcasts a noise that irritates teenage ears, but is inaudible to adults, and which will thus encourage the teens to take their terrifying crime spree elsewhere.

As I read the article, I wondered what type of sound would irritate teenage ears that enjoy rap and heavy metal music, but it seems to work ... except that now the formerly crime-infested hellhole is now crowded every night with TV news crews looking for the would-be criminals to see if they were really chased away by the noise.

Yes, Mr Hardin's article goes on quote Haruyuki Masuda, head of park management in Adachi Ward: "We see them (TV news crews) on the surveillance videos, and there are too many of them to count ... They hide behind trees and bushes. They are waiting for kids to come. I think they have scared off the kids."

So, there's a potential new counter to street crime in DC: station TV news crews everywhere to scare off the criminals. It just might work. And even if it doesn't, they'll probably catch some Congressman in a criminal act involving payoffs or illicit sex, which is almost as good. With 535 Senators and Reprehensives to choose from, it could keep our news crews busy for a long time.

We could do worse.

Have a good day. More thoughts tomorrow.

Bilbo

Adventures in Travel...Not

As Agnes and I enter the final week before our trip to Germany (translation: two weeks of beer, good sausage, visiting the family, and no work), we've been thinking about some of the things we ought to see in our travels...not just on this trip, but on others coming up. We have the things on my 101 Things to Do list that are travel-related (by the way, I've added "Visit London" to the list), we're planning a trip to Colorado in September and, of course, the 40th high school reunion is coming up in October (speaking of visiting old ruins, ha, ha). So many places to visit, so little time.

Fortunately, there are plenty of sources of advice about what to see, and what not to see.

Yes, folks, augmenting the books like 1001 Places to See Before You Die comes this list of the world's "germiest" tourist attractions. It includes:

* The Blarney Stone (Ireland) and Oscar Wilde's Tomb (Paris) - whose idea was it for hundreds of thousands of people to decide there were things that they all had to kiss? Yuck...



* St Mark's Square (Venice, Italy) - very picturesque, with those beautiful buildings...and those tens of thousands of pigeons. When everything is colored white, and it's not because of paint, I think I'll pass. Special note: if you visit Fisherman's Wharf in San Francisco, you can see acres of white cars in the parking lots. Same thing...


* The Market Theater Gum Wall (Seattle, Washington) - who on earth thought that a wall of used chewing gum "several inches thick, spanning an area 15 feet high and 50 feet wide" was a good idea? I think I'll pass...


* Grauman's Chinese Theater (Hollywood, California) - think all those movie-star handprints in the concrete, the ones that everyone walks over, birds poop on, and every other tourist in the world has stuck their own hands into. Ugh.

There are more, but you get the idea.

Maybe I should just stay home, where at least I know whose germs I'm getting.

Have a good day. Kiss your significant other, not some stone. And keep your gum to yourself.

More thoughts tomorrow.

Bilbo