In Grateful Memory

Staff Sgt. Ahmed Kousay Altaie (U.S. Army), Ann Arbor, Michigan.  Captured in Bagdad, Iraq, October 2006, and later killed. This month, his were the last remains recovered of those missing from Operation Iraqi Freedom/Operation New Dawn mission.

Afghanistan Again

Oh, puhleeze. Let’s give Karzai six replacement Qurans and get the hell out of there.

A "Flyover Bureaucrat" Lands

It may be hard to believe, but some of the earliest politicians in the U.S. were known to be even more devious than those whose cunning we marvel at today. 

The lack of communications technology made that possible.  A candidate could deliver a speech in one town, take a horse and buggy trip to the next place, and give another speech contradicting his previous words. Without news media, he was unlikely to be caught.  News traveled so slowly that often elections were over before blocs of voters learned they had been duped.

That form of political dishonesty stopped around the end of the nineteenth century, or so we thought.  Telegraph, then telephone, networks made communication swift and reached eventually into every corner of the country.  Large news organizations, such as the Associated Press, linked media.  What a national candidate said in California could be filed by a newspaper reporter and broadcast by a radio station in Massachusetts within minutes.

Today’s politicians may fudge their statements and artfully dodge questions, but they know an outrageous statement made anywhere along the campaign trail will be exposed. They must be more careful than their predecessors about what they say. Or, so we thought.

The Geezer learned of recent campaign rhetoric in Idaho by the Republican candidates that certainly would concern many Americans.  One part of it might have been good for a laugh, something major media like to use to break up dismal news cycles. I’m pretty well tuned into various news sources, yet I heard of the Idaho statements only through a Facebook message from a former fellow employee of the U.S. Forest Service.

The Forest Service manages 20 million acres of National Forest land in Idaho.  Several million of those acres are Congressionally designated Wilderness, priceless wildlands where motorized vehicles are banned and resource extraction largely is prohibited.

Recently, according to the Idaho Statesman, Republican presidential candidates Rick Santorum and Ron Paul proposed selling or transferring the federal lands to private interests or to the state. Mitt Romney got a little more specific. He advocated transferring management of the national forests to states to increase the revenues the lands generate.

There are only a few ways to increase revenues from National Forests.  One is to build roads into what now are roadless Wilderness areas, allow timber cutting there, and encourage mining and grazing, now limited to uses that were grandfathered when the lands were withdrawn from commodity production years ago.  Another is to abandon or seriously relax grazing permit systems and timber harvesting controls on all the lands. These regulations keep yields from the lands sustainable.

Wouldn’t you think millions of Americans would want to know that candidates for president advocated drastic changes in the protection and management of large chunks of our public lands?  Where were our media?  Perhaps they have been so decimated by economic problems that they have no space for such news.  You can bet the Statesman put the story on the wire.

Santorum provided the fodder for comedians.  Speaking to some 3,000 people in Boise, he said: “The federal government doesn’t care about it (Idaho), they don’t care about this land.  They don’t live here, they don’t care about it; we don’t care about it in Washington.  It’s just fly-over country for most of the bureaucrats in Washington, DC.”

Shortly thereafter, Tom Tidwell, Chief of the Forest Service, landed in Boise to discuss cooperative planning in Idaho after a flight from his office in Washington, DC. Santorum gave his speech at a rally held at Capital High School in Boise.  Tidwell is a graduate of Capital High School.

Tidwell began his Forest Service career as a fire management specialist for the Boise National Forest.  Later, he served as Regional Forester, the top administrator, for the service's Northern Region, which includes northern Idaho.  We could hardly expect him to know or care much about Idaho, could we?

As Michigan Goes . . .

Actually, all that usually can be said about how Michigan goes politically is that’s how Michigan went.  The state has a long history of flopping back and forth between selecting Democrats and Republicans in major elections.

Now Mitt Romney, a major flip flopper according to his opponents, has come back to town.  The Republican primary is happening Feb. 28.  Television ads and political commentaries are cluttering up the landscape.

The mud slinging and misrepresentations are not unexpected, but there is one big surprise.  Romney’s father served as a Michigan governor and also head of now-defunct American Motors.  Mitt Romney was born and raised in Michigan.  Mitt Romney could lose the primary election in Michigan.

Far right-wing darling Rick Santorum rose to the top of the polls recently, gaining a virtual tie with Romney. Six months ago no one would have predicted that.  Santorum won support in Michigan, as elsewhere, because of his strong appeal to the tea partiers who are playing major roles in Republican candidate selection.

Western Michigan is full of social conservatives.  Even in eastern areas of the state where most voters normally are progressives, many consider themselves fiscal conservatives, and they are worried about the national debt.  In addition to claiming “favorite son” status, Romney loudly proclaims himself to be a lifelong conservative who would apply business principles to correcting the federal balance sheet.  So why isn’t he running far ahead in his “home” state?

For one thing, Romney’s attempts to portray himself as a local boy who in his words, “always loved Michigan,” are pretty lame.  He did spend his early years at the family home in a suburb of Detroit, where he attended an exclusive prep school.  But after that he hasn’t been seen often in these parts during the past 40 years.

Romney went off to college at Brigham Young University, as many good Mormon boys and girls do.  Bachelor’s degree in hand, he enrolled at Harvard for degrees in law and business.  He founded a financial company in Boston in 1984, entered politics in 1994 by losing a senatorial contest in Massachusetts, and later served as governor of the Bay State. He never has lived in Michigan as an adult.

Santorum and friends are attacking Romney’s conservative credentials at every opportunity.  A major charge is that the “Romneycare” health care plan adopted in Massachusetts while Romney was governor was the model for “Obamacare” enacted at the federal level. 

Romney ran into a problem even when he consistently and steadfastly maintained a conservative position.  He said months ago, and recently repeated to Michigan media, that he opposed federal bailouts of General Motors and Chrysler sponsored by both the Bush and Obama administrations.  It is generally acknowledged that the bailout loans saved both auto manufacturers. 

General Motors recently announced from its world headquarters in Detroit a record breaking profit for 2011.  Chrysler sales have improved mightily.  Both companies are once again hiring in Michigan, and GM is planning plant expansions here and in nearby states. Big chunks of the bailout funds have been repaid.

Continuing to say that the proper course of action was to let GM and Chrysler fail while the federal government stood by doing nothing might draw applause in a tea party caucus, but it doesn’t play well in Detroit. Most Michiganders are ardent supporters of the American auto industry, even those who are anti-union and thus could fall into either the Romney or Santorum camps.

Like Romney, Santorum says he does not believe in government help for corporations, except for tax breaks. However, on any other issue you can name, he leans farther right than Romney, or at least he has convinced many tea partiers that he does. 

Another factor probably will help Santorum.  The Republican-controlled legislature and GOP governor changed primary election rules after they got a firm grip on political power in Michigan.  Until this go-around, voters received a unified ballot and could make choices across party lines at will.  This year, voters in the primaries can use only a Republican or Democratic ballot. It could be that the change won’t have as much effect on cross-over voting as the Republicans apparently hoped for.

There’s much talk on the political grapevine, and some out in the open, about the intention of many dedicated Democrats to ask for a Republican ballot and vote for Santorum.  They believe Obama will have a much easier time in November running against the radical ex-senator than the more moderate Romney.

There could be a little bonus here for Romney. Should he lose the Michigan primary it may not be a mortal blow. He could blame a defeat on those tricky Democrats as he once again exits the state.

We’ll soon see what happens.  As Michigan goes, so might the nation.  But don’t count on it. 

A Real(ty) Misteak

Go to www.realtor.com and navigate to the web page listing 200 Golfview Drive, Plainwell, MI 49080.  The main feature at the site is an excellent aerial view of our driveway, complete with turnaround.

It’s an attractive summer scene, but there are a couple of problems. We don’t live at 200 Golfview.  And our driveway is not for sale.

The driveway down the street at 200 Golfview was for sale until just recently for a hefty sum, but the price included a four-bedroom house.  We are relieved that the present status line on the web page picturing our driveway says, “Not for Sale.” 

Come to think of it, if some driveway fancier shows up offering $60,000 or so, we’ll think seriously about making a deal.  Despite focusing from above the wrong property, the photographer produced a pretty picture.  It may entice buyers. If someone else owned our drive, we no longer would have to do all the snow relocation work that occupies a lot of time around here every winter.

Goodbye, My Friend

“Enjoy it while you can, because the Gazette, at least in the form you are holding, is doomed.  The end may be a few years off, but it is inevitable.”

I wrote those lines, the opening words in an opinion piece published by the Kalamazoo Gazette, in the summer of 2009.  Reading a daily newspaper has been part of my life for more than 60 years. Monday, my newspaper delivery tube was empty.  Gazette management had taken the first big step toward the demise of the newspaper.  It no longer will be delivered to homes seven days a week, as it has been for decades.

Like a tough, old bird diagnosed with terminal cancer, the Gazette is not dying without a struggle.  A top exec of the corporation, which also owns seven other papers in Michigan, has issued numerous glowing statements assuring subscribers that the “new order” of things is vastly superior to the familiar system that put a copy of the newspaper into my hands every day.

We now can have only Tuesday, Thursday, and Sunday editions delivered to our homes—at a higher cost than we were paying to receive seven days of deliveries.  To compensate for the cost increase, we can view the Monday, Wednesday, Friday, and Saturday editions on the Internet.  Those “papers,” however, do not include special advertising sections.  You can buy daily papers that include the special sections at selected sales outlets. Why anyone would want to do that is mysterious.

Content changes have been made to lure subscribers into being happy about this bewildering new arrangement.  The comics section has been increased. Whoopee!  All editions have expanded in this area by about a third.  I’m a selective comics fan—I love some and ignore others.  All the new ones fall into my “ignore” category.  No longer to be found are those favorites of fully mature adults—Rex Morgan, MD and Mary Worth.  What is a Geezer to do? Fortunately, Prince Valiant has been retained in the Sunday edition, but this provides little solace.

The comics changes were made by management after they apparently ignored a fairly recent survey of readers.  The majority wanted to keep panels such as Rex and Mary.  The majority didn’t want those crappy extra panels now foisted upon us.  Is the new stuff cheaper?

Subscribers now get several pages of business news from the Wall Street Journal (I like). They also get more local sports news (I’m not interested).  They get a very strange opinion page (who cares?).  They can get, on the Internet, an improved “Mlive” that is supposed to cover regional news much better (Well, it’s a tad better, but still inadequate).

I’m a fan of Internet news.  As one, I’ve thoroughly checked out the web editions of the Gazette.  Readers can navigate around in them fairly easily, but they are harder to read than the familiar paper versions, and doing the crossword is well neigh impossible.  I also get a new “instant news” bulletin in my e-mailbox.  I’m trying to be charitable, but is seems to be closer to worthless than worthwhile.

All this strays from the bottom line.  Following a nationwide trend, the Gazette is disestablishing itself through a reversal of how it, and many daily papers, evolved.  The Gazette was established in 1834 as a weekly paper.  Weekly papers in growing markets most often took a first step upward by publishing two days a week (usually Tuesday and Thursday).  Later they went to Monday through Saturday editions.  Finally, they added Sunday to become full-service newspapers.

The only change in the backward spirals appears to be a retreat to a Sunday edition, with no weekday products.  Thus, major “paper papers” once again are becoming weeklies in many places.  The once-proud daily Christian Science Monitor devolved into a weekly months ago. Eventually, it and others traveling in the same direction will join the Gazette in extinction.

Who cares?  Well, all of us should.  The national and international news we get on television and the internet largely is generated by newspaper reporters.  Locally, except for a very few radio and television reports, all the news initially is reported by newspaper people. 

Democratic governments depend on the free-flow of information, and responsible analysis of what it means.  Dictatorships thrive by strangling the press. To me, the demise of “paper papers” is a serious matter.  My 2009 article summed it up this way:

“When newspapers are gone, who will cover the local school board meeting?  Who will cut through secrecy and give us the facts when a city council action smells funny?  Who will expose incompetence or extravagance in government? Who will write thoughtful analyses of the meaning of events?  Who will document the little things—the births, deaths, anniversaries, and business happenings—that collectively become the history of our Nation?

We don’t know, and that is frightening.”

Look Out, Here Comes Tony!

The death of legendary Penn State football coach Joe Paterno produced a sports trivia story that brought back a memory of another gridiron hero and his relationship with Paterno.

The news story, in the Green Bay Press-Gazette, described a small chapter in Packers history new to me.  It seems Paterno almost was hired as the Packers head coach in 1970.  A dozen years earlier, I met one of the men who tried hard to make it happen.

A gentle man . . . most of the time.

Tony Canadeo was an outstanding halfback for the Packers, 1941-52, with a year off for military service. He was the first Packers runner to gain 1,000 yards in a season (1949), and is one of only five Green Bay players to have their jersey number retired.  Canadeo was voted into the pro football hall of fame in 1974. After his playing days ended, he was a popular TV announcer.  He also served on the Packers’ executive committee, which makes the big decisions for the team.

In 1958, because of my first professional job as editor of the weekly paper in De Pere, Wisconsin, I got an invitation to attend a banquet at St. Norbert College.  The college is in De Pere, which is only five miles from Green Bay. Although I didn’t have time to attend all the St. Norbert football games, I ran stories and photos provided by their public relations director.  That year, the Green Knights were undefeated, and my contact said the banquet was a special reward for the players, coaches, and media supporters.  The Press-Gazette sports editor also was invited in appreciation of the paper’s coverage of the team.  Tony Canadeo was to be the banquet speaker.

The PR man said I should come an hour early to a cocktail party hosted by the college president for Canadeo, the Press-Gazette man, and me.  Wow!  Every sports fan in the state knew who Tony Canadeo was, and as a 21-year-old novice small-time newsman I was awed at the prospect of conversing with the great man, a college president, and the leading sports journalist in the area.  It turned out to be an even more intimate gathering.  The Press-Gazette editor bowed out because of a last-minute emergency.

You never know what to expect from a sports star.  A good share of them can be pompous asses.  Others, including some of the most skilled athletes, are regular guys and gals. Tony Canadeo turned out to be one of the latter.  He quickly made me feel comfortable at the little party.  There didn’t seem to be a bit of super-ego in the man.  Far from the tough guy I half-expected, Canadeo was soft-spoken and polite. Ever since that meeting I’ve described him as a good-natured gentleman in discussions of the personalities of sports super stars.

In 1970, according to a story made public only after his death in 2003, Canadeo proved he could drop the calm demeanor and work up a rage with the best of them.

The Packers’ executive committee had fired the coach after a poor season.  When George Allen, their first choice as a replacement, declined the job, the committee interviewed several others and narrowed the choices to successful University of Missouri coach Dan Devine and Paterno, who was building an outstanding record at Penn State.

Paterno had turned down the coaching job with the Pittsburgh Steelers the previous year, but the Packers offered a combination coach-general manager situation.  Paterno apparently liked the idea of that kind of control.  Two reputable people later said Paterno would have taken the Packers job if it was offered, and one public statement he made indicated he was very interested.

The recent Press-Gazette story says Canadeo and another member of the executive committee strongly favored Paterno because the Penn State coach reminded them of Vince Lombardi, the iconic Packers coach.  Paterno and Lombardi both grew up in Brooklyn and were Catholics of Italian descent.  They knew each other dating to the 1940s when they were rival high school coaches.  In the 1960s, Lombardi often consulted Paterno about the abilities of college players.

Despite the Lombardi connection, Canadeo and his associate did not prevail.  The committee voted 5-2 to hire Devine.

When Canadeo heard the news, he became livid, the story goes.  As he left home for the next day’s executive committee meeting, he was so distraught he smashed through the garage door when he backed his car out into the driveway.  A daughter had used the car earlier and left the door up when she came home.  As Canadeo stormed out of the house, he didn’t notice and he hit the garage door opener button, closing the door just before he drove through it.

Devine compiled a dismal record at Green Bay.  Paterno became the top winning coach in college football history.  Perhaps the Packers’ executive board members should have listened to their old halfback who could destroy garage doors with a single mighty burst.

The Poor Die Young

The political posturing and debating engulfing the land is touching on just about everything but the continuing slaughter of young Americans and our allies in Afghanistan. 

I make note of Afghanistan war deaths because this blog honors those from my home state of Michigan who give their lives.  A lot more are not being honored.  Lives are being sacrificed at the rate or more than one per day. Why is there no national outrage about this horrible waste?  At best, our politicians, except for maverick Republican candidate Ron Paul who stands no chance of being elected, are content to let the pointless conflict continue for two more years.

Throughout our recent military adventures in Iraq and Afghanistan, a few small voices have pointed out that the affluent and best educated  among us are sending the poor and least educated off to die. Several of those voices, which didn’t get much of a hearing, suggested we should restore the draft that was ended after the conclusion of the Vietnam War. The reasoning is that, in a democracy, important sacrifices should be shared by all.

One counter argument, insensitive as it may be, is members of our all-volunteer forces knew what they were getting into when they signed up.  They agreed to put their lives on the line; therefore we have little reason to be overly concerned when they are killed. I have heard such awful statements made by otherwise seemingly caring and thoughtful people.

I also have heard claims that our forces constitute a cross-section of the American public because reserves and National Guard units have been called to active duty frequently during the wars in the Middle East.  The call-ups are a fact.  That they resulted in a cross-section of society being involved in the conflicts is not.  Several analyses of the death counts support the idea of an unfair assignment of risk.

Nine years ago, when the Iraq War was young, a newspaper consultant in Texas studied backgrounds of more than 300 U.S. soldiers who died in the conflict.  The dead were 39 percent more likely that our total population to live in counties with less than 100,000 people.  They were 16 percent more likely to have lived in a county with below-average levels of college graduates and 16 percent more likely to live in counties with below-average incomes.

The dead soldiers who came from large cities were disproportionately Hispanic or African-American.  Very few came from prosperous urban areas—high-tech centers such as San Jose, Seattle, Austin, or Dallas.  Those who died largely grew up in cities with declining older manufacturing economies or in rural regions, places with low levels of technology and innovation and high levels of unemployment.

The consultant who conducted the study concluded: “This may be America’s war, but it is being fought by only a part of America.”

A much larger study (of 3,100 deaths) in 2007 conducted for the Associated Press showed that almost half the American war fatalities in Iraq and Afghanistan were young people from small towns and rural areas where employment opportunities were limited.  The half came from towns with populations under 25,000 and 20 percent of them had a hometown where less than 5,000 people lived.

The study report said, “Many of the hometowns of the war dead aren’t just small in population, they’re poor.” Nearly three-quarters of those killed in Iraq came from towns where the per capita income was below the national average.”

With Iraq behind us and warfare in Afghanistan allegedly winding down, would current statistics show the same results?  Probably. Here are the hometowns of the ten service members killed in Afghanistan last week:

Crystal Lake, Illinois; Centerville, Iowa; Colonia, New Jersey; Palatka, Florida; Ferndale, Washington; Willis, Texas; Glendale, Arizona; Norwood, Massachusetts; Wilder, Idaho; Pahrump, Nevada. 

The Geezer believes if the draft had been in effect we never would have launched the second Iraq invasion and would have ended our participation in Afghanistan hostilities years ago.  Without a draft, it has been too easy for our highly educated, affluent politicians to send less educated, poor young men and women into combat. And the rest of us failed miserably to force common sense upon our leaders because those sent forth to risk death really weren’t “our kids.”

The draft was ended in the aftermath of an extremely unpopular war.  That action has produced several, probably unintended, negative consequences. Was ending the draft a colossal mistake?

 

Oh, Brother!

Reading the latest Sigma Nu national magazine, I learned that Eli Manning and I are fraternity brothers.  That should have taken some of the sting out of what he did to my beloved Green Bay Packers on Sunday.

But it didn't. 

Go, Niners!

Kicking a Statistic Around

Politicians of various stripes and their backers delight in kicking each other around.  They’ve become so accomplished at mud slinging and twisting facts one would think they spend some time practicing.  Perhaps they do.

For the last several years, our pols appear to have been warming up for the big 2012 campaigns by kicking a statistic around.  A great many have been putting the boots to the National Unemployment Rate. 

A while back, Democrats claimed unemployment was much higher than the indicator showed, and thus painted an unrealistic picture of the horrible economic conditions created by George W. Bush.  A bit later, the blame game diminished in effectiveness as a tactic, but Democrats kept blasting away with the same theme to support the idea that we need more stimulus money and government job creation to pull out of our economic funk.

Republicans now are singing the same song—the monthly unemployment statistical reports are grossly understated—but for a different reason. The contention is that President Obama is falsely claiming economic achievements based on the unemployment indicator dropping slowly over the past few months. They are saying exactly what the Democrats have been claiming—discouraged job seekers are leaving the labor force in large numbers, and thus skewing the indicator. 

Usually, the Geezer would pass all this off as typical political posturing unworthy of serious attention.  However, a recent editorial in The Washington Times raised my ire. The headline read: “Obama Cooks the Unemployment Books.”

The last line in the opinion piece says a calculation posted on a web site, “ . . . exposes what the government statistics are intended to do: Get Barack re-elected.”

From start to finish, the editorial was an unwarranted insult to civil servants who work to provide useful statistics to policy makers and the American people, especially those employed by the Census Bureau and the Bureau of Labor Statistics.  Of course, it also insulted Obama, but there is nothing particularly noteworthy about the Times doing that.

I worked with civil service statisticians for many years.  It is hard to envision any group of people more dedicated to getting things right.  They are especially diligent about trying to develop controls to minimize or eliminate bias from any source. 

Even if President Obama was unethical enough to try to influence the work of the Census and Labor Statistics people, he certainly is not dumb enough to try.  Any high-level politician attempting to “cook the books” in this arena would touch off a storm of protest he or she could not survive. 

The National Unemployment Rate, a product of the Current Population Survey, is derived from statistics collected by the Census Bureau for the Bureau of Labor Statistics.  It is based on a sophisticated, carefully designed sampling of households throughout the U.S.  It does not count every unemployed or employed person.  Thus, it is inappropriate to claim the rate is either right or wrong.  The questions should be: “Does the rate reasonably portray the situation in the nation? Is it comparable to rates for previous months and previous years, and thus useful in showing trends?

No indicator based on sampling is perfect.  Government employees have been calculating unemployment rates since the 1890s.  From time-to-time they have sought to improve the accuracy of the rates by changing sampling methods or adjusting underlying assumptions when there is a consensus that newer assumptions are more valid. Thus, looking at rates for different time periods easily can result in “apples and oranges” comparisons.

For example, it would be folly to try to make a precise comparison between the current 8.5 percent unemployment rate and the 21.7 percent rate in 1934.  For one thing, before 1948 the data included people aged 14 and up; since then only those 16 and older are included.  However, the historical data have some value as long as the survey framework is generally the same. Any reasonable person would conclude that employment conditions were pretty awful in 1934. Exactly how awful compared to today’s conditions we cannot tell.

Reasonable people also could see that conditions were very good in 1952 when the rate was 3 percent.  Certainly those of us who lived back then know times were much better than they are now.  Again, however, the two rates are not strictly comparable.  The Bureau of Labor Statistics made a major reform in the calculation system in 1994.  There have been minor adjustments since, but no big change. Matching our present 8.5 rate with the 4.6 percent calculated for 2006 before the Great Recession started thus is very close to an “apples to apples” comparison.

The Times editorial writer casts aside the work of civil service statisticians and analysts over many years and cites statistics from an obscure web site claiming the “true” unemployment rate currently is 11.4 percent.  Oh?  There is no such thing as a statistically derived “true” unemployment rate for the United States.    

Saying any numerical value is better than the one the government provides is irrelevant when considering the important reasons an indicator was developed in the first place.   We should be interested in a rate that gives a decent portrayal of the unemployment situation and is the best available indicator of trends.  The Census Bureau and the Bureau of Labor Statistics give us useful numbers. The Washington Times does not.

The Geezer has deep sympathy for anyone struggling to find satisfactory employment and strongly supports efforts by both business and government to create new jobs. An 8.5 unemployment rate is not good any way you look at it. But directly or indirectly bashing those who work diligently to bring us the best rate data they can assemble does no one a service.

They Pack 'Em In

Perhaps still basking in the glory of last years' Super Bowl title, the Green Bay Packers seem to be moving slightly upscale.  While preparing for Sunday’s playoff game, management announced that volunteers who show up with their shovels to clear the snow away from seating areas will be paid $10 per hour rather than the customary $8.

Not Plush

Lambeau Field is a very nice stadium, but in some cases tradition continues to trump luxury.  The team spent several hundred million dollars on improvements in 1998.  Knowing that, one of my golfing buddies, a Raiders fan, was amazed to learn that most of the Packers faithful are assigned bleacher-type plank seats.  Only relatively small areas of the stadium are equipped with comfortable individual seats with arm rests and backs, such as those found throughout most big-time sports venues.

My friend observed that it might get pretty crowded at Lambeau when the weather dictated wearing heavy coats over multi-layers of clothing.  “What happens if they all sit down at once?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” I said. “They never have.”

When I attended the first game at Lambeau Field in 1957, the uncomfortable seats didn't matter to me.  I went solo.  Because of the unused ticket for the seat next to me, I had plenty of room.

For the second game I attended, I had a date with a pretty little Dutch gal.  That was nothing unusual.  At the time, the biggest section in the Green Bay phone book started with V.  The bench seating was just great for snuggling up in the cold weather.  It didn't help, though.  She ditched me a week or so later for a local baseball star.

You can be sure of one thing on Sunday.  Every seat in Lambeau Field, in a luxury box or on a plank, will be filled.  They always are.

No, it's not me. Just a typical geezer warming up for the playoffs.

A Fearless Forecast

The Geezer is getting a bit tired of reading and hearing about election politics, and the silly season has barely worked up a head of steam.  It seems everybody with a keyboard, mouth, or touch pad has issued some sort of forecast.  So, here is mine:

I think Mitt Romney’s solid win (39.4 percent in a large field) in yesterday’s New Hampshire primary ensured he will be the Republican nominee for president.

Ron Paul finished second in New Hampshire with 22.8 percent.  No one else came close. I think Paul’s supporters, a strange mix of libertarians, young Republicans, and independents who learn rightward, eventually will decide to push Paul’s views by convincing him to set up a new third party, or run as a Libertarian.

I think Paul’s third party candidacy will siphon off enough votes to do Romney in this November in a close election, just as Ralph Nader’s candidacy did Al Gore in not long ago. Thus, Barack Obama will win reelection in 2012.  

I think the Democrats will gain a majority in the Senate, but they will not take enough seats for a House majority. We will be in for another four years of frustrating stalemate in Washington.  

Stop by at the end of November, and we will review this set of opinions to see if the Geezer’s views have become reality.

In Grateful Memory

Tech. Sgt. Matthew Schwartz (U.S. Air Force), 34, Traverse City, Michigan. Killed by a roadside bomb in Helmand Province, Afghanistan, January 5, 2012.

Another Merry Birthday

This topic is revisited annually.  Why?  Well, it happens every year, and as long as it keeps happening all is well with the Geezer.

New Years Day is my birthday. “Ah,” say many of those who first learn of this, “your parents were lucky.”

Those who make this type of observation usually envision front-page news stories and tons of presents showered by various businesses seeking some free advertising on the mother and father of the first child born every year.  Even medical folks get into the act.  Parents of the first child born at one of the major area hospitals this year got extra diapers and gift cards good at a local restaurant and movie theater from the hospital staff.

Note the hairline resemblance

It didn’t work that way for my parents.  I didn’t appear until about 7 p.m. on Jan. 1. A half-dozen babies were born earlier on New Years Day that year in my hometown.  The prizes and gifts were long gone when I arrived. 

Sympathizers then sometimes remark that at least my coming gave old Dad another income tax exemption. That didn’t work, either. At the time, toward the end of the Great Depression, Dad didn’t earn enough to have any income tax liability.

The timing of my birth was not only financially disappointing; it ended a family tradition that might have provided the Klade clan some measure of fame.  My father, Fred J. Klade, was born on Christmas Day, 1891, in Wausau, WI.  His father, Fred C. Klade, was born on Christmas Day, 1855, in Germany. We don’t know the birth date of my great-grandfather or previous male ancestors.  Had I appeared as “scheduled,” it would definitely have been three Christmas boys in a row, with a slim possibility of four or more.  My mother said I was too stubborn to conform to the family pattern.

In tough times, a holiday season birthday can be a distinct disadvantage.  A good number of my father’s Christmas presents were labeled “Merry Christmas and Happy Birthday.” The gift givers cut their costs in half, but Dad’s gift-receiving pleasure suffered equally, although he never complained.  In better economic times, there apparently is no problem.  I have yet to receive a single gift or card in honor of both Christmas and my birthday.

The lasting advantage of my “1/1” birth date is that friends find it very easy to remember, and good things happen because they do. This year was no exception. Once again, my birthday celebration started with congratulations via e-mail from Jake Jirschele, a high school pal I haven’t seen for some 50 years.  After many years of mystery as to how Jake knew my birth date, he admitted remembering it from a conversation in a bar in 1955! (see the Jan. 6, 2011 post, “The Consistent Mystery Every New Years Day,” in the archives).

Shortly after reading Jake’s annual message, the Geezer was treated to a telephone call that began with a “Happy Birthday to you” song accompanied by some giggles and chuckles.  The song leader was Jim Shea, another chum from long ago who I haven’t seen for many years.  He recalled visiting our house on Christmases past to partake of some “shaum tort,” a special dessert whipped up (literally) by my Mom in honor of Dad’s birthday.  Jim remembered both of the notable Klade birthdays, and quite a few other events from years gone by.  His call was among the many things that made my 2012 birthday something special.

I also finally cashed in with a special first-day gift from a business.  Denny’s restaurants e-mailed a coupon good for a free birthday breakfast. Nothing pleases me more than an occasional escape from healthy fare in favor or a good old American breakfast featuring lots of fried, high-calorie stuff.  Denny’s does that sort of meal well. 

Soon after beautiful wife Sandy and I settled into a booth at Denny’s a gray haired couple somewhat older than me (and that’s pretty old!) sat down in an adjacent booth.  The man exchanged a hearty “Happy New Year” greeting with the waitress.  The two chatted pleasantly throughout their meal.  I noticed the waitress bringing a plate of pancakes to their table.

As I was checking out, the elderly couple stood close to me waiting their turn. They were all smiles and exchanged pleasantries with everybody in the area.  Sandy waited nearby while I made a restroom stop after I settled our bill.  The couple had gone when I returned.  “I heard what their bill was,” Sandy said when we were in our car.  “They paid $4.24 for two breakfasts. The cashier confirmed the statement with the man. I heard the old gent say he had two pancakes, and the lady had one. They had nothing else but water.”

We’re guessing of course, but we both got the impression that the elderly couple was starting their new year treating each other to a restaurant meal they could barely afford.  They did it with dignity and good cheer.  Just seeing them made our morning more pleasant. They reminded us that material wealth is not necessary to create a celebration

May 2012 will be a happy year for you, full of the little pleasures that really matter.

Recent Results

Green Bay Packers junior varsity 45, Detroit Lions 41. (Aw shucks, I just couldn't resist)

An Artistic Character

‘Tis a small world, indeed.  After reading an Internet article by Frank Paynter, I decided to play a long shot.  Paynter had contributed several articles plus occasional comments to “Time Goes By,” a blog I follow regularly that is mostly of interest to mature adults. I knew he lived somewhere in Wisconsin, but that’s all I knew about him.

Via e-mail, I asked Frank if there was any chance he was related to Richard Paynter, a close friend of ours in the early 1970s.  The reply: “Yup. He's my uncle.”

That brought back a flood of memories.  Richard Paynter and I made small talk during work breaks at the Forest Products Lab in Madison, WI, over a four-year period. He was an artist and I was an editor at the U.S. Forest Service research facility on the edge of the University of Wisconsin campus. I transferred to the Boise National Forest in a career move, worked in the West for most of the next 22 years, and retired in Utah.  As far as I knew, Richard  stayed in Madison.  We exchanged season’s greetings for years, but eventually the cards stopped coming.

Richard Paynter ranks high on the list of true characters my wife and I encountered over the years. Even his appearance was unique. He was born with only a small part of one forearm.  He had several little miniature “fingers” near the elbow joint, which many people might have tried to cover with a shirt sleeve.  He not only did not do that, he used the little digits.  To light his cigarettes, he would cradle an open matchbook between them and his upper arm and tear off and strike a match with his normal fingers.  Suggestions that a lighter might be easier to use were ignored.

When we were moving to Madison and needed a place to temporarily store some household goods, Richard offered space in his garage.  One of our items was a small antique safe.  One strong person could pick it up, but it wasn’t easy. While unloading our stuff, I took a break to prepare myself for the task of moving the little iron monster.  Richard lifted it off the trailer with his one complete arm and asked, “Where should I put this?”

Richard was a multi-talented artist. He produced four-color illustrations for the Laboratory’s annual report, the design for a beautiful carved wood door for a new conference room, and hundreds of illustrations for publications, some modernistic representations and some realistic depictions of research equipment and lab employees at work. He also designed many exhibits, both static and portable.

Some of Richard’s best personal art creations had nothing to do with the designs he developed so skillfully at his workplace.  He produced fanciful penciled portrait-like works with a few touches of color in key places. I have never seen that style used by another artist.

An annual highlight on the Madison art scene was an outdoor exhibition in the broad area surrounding the state Capitol.  Richard showed his works there for the first two years I knew him.  He once said his total sales were in the $2,000 to $3,000 range each year.  That was very nice extra-curricular money.  We were at the same pay level at the Forest Products Lab, which was about $10,000 per year. The next year, Richard refused to participate in the Capitol show.

After some prodding, he revealed that two exhibit visitors the previous year had made disparaging comments about several of his works.  He said something like, “I’m not going to waste my time catering to idiots who don’t know a damn thing about real art.” 

Richard’s distain for his few critics was more than balanced by his affinity for any new acquaintance he thought might be a good person to get to know better.  Whenever he met anyone he liked, he parted with directions and an invitation: “Come on over to our place Friday night.  We’re having a party.”

He did not keep track of the invitations.  There was a party at Paynter’s every Friday night, so that always worked out.  But what would happen if all the regulars and everybody Richard invited during the week showed up?  Well, I attended one Friday night gathering where the guests stood elbow-to-elbow throughout the living room, kitchen, and a closed-in porch, the only large rooms on the first floor of the Paynter home.

If a first-time guest had the audacity to ask if there were refreshments, Richard pointed across the park area adjacent to his backyard. The most conspicuous structure in that direction was a liquor store.  I’m not sure if Richard ventured to the store for any of his own refreshments, or if he just extracted a share from what the guests brought. At any rate, he always refreshed himself rather thoroughly. That produced a Friday night tradition.  At almost every party I attended, Richard passed out around midnight.  Several able-bodied guests carried him upstairs to bed and the party went right on without the host.

Two works of art by Richard Paynter occupy places of honor in the living room section of our home.  One shows a little girl modeled after one of his daughters gazing through a screened panel.  We didn’t have a lot of cash to buy art in the 1970s, but beautiful wife Sandy loved that work so much she scraped up $125 to pay Richard for it. Sandy earned the money working as a nanny for neighborhood kids. When I tried to suggest a price reduction, Richard’s stony countenance told me that was not going to happen.  It was clear that he did not haggle over prices for his art.

Our other piece is a larger work Richard said was “Susy,” a young woman about to sample an egg.  I knew the real-life Susy quite well, and I think she was the perfect choice as a model for that work.

"Susy" graces our living room

“Susy” was one of a dozen or so Paynter works displayed at a one-man show at Ripon College.  Most of them had been sold by the time we saw her at the Paynter home after the show.  Sandy loved the work.  Richard told me the price was $900.  I was shocked. We couldn’t come close to affording that, so despite knowing it wouldn’t do any good I pleaded for relief.  None came.  He said all the Ripon works were priced at $900, and that was that.  We went home empty handed.

Shortly before we left Madison, Richard appeared at our house.  He said he had come to deliver a going away present.  He went out to his car, came back carrying “Susy,” and presented the framed work to Sandy.

The Niftiest Gift

The Geezer hopes you’ve been successful this holiday season if you’ve chosen to participate in the annual quest for the elusive “perfect gift”—something desirable, unexpected, and lasting.  Thanks to some special people, I get to enjoy such a gift year after year.

Our "Holiday Express"

To my complete surprise, for my seventh Christmas my parents, who could ill-afford it,  gave me an American Flyer model train complete with a few building replicas and a faux tunnel.  The little train provided many hours of joy. 

As with most toys, the train set fell into disuse as I grew up and became interested in other pursuits.  It was packed away in the attic of the family home.  Before my mother died, she made sure I got the train. It stayed with us in storage for nearly 25 years.  We gave the train to son Lee, but he had no place to use or store it.

Three years ago, to get ready for our move to Michigan we shipped everything we could to Lee (he now had a large house), including the train set and other items we were storing for him.  We couldn’t get into our new house until after Christmas, so we stayed at Lee’s home and planned holiday celebrations with him and his fiancée Karen. 

The first thing that came to mind when I got up Christmas morning was that famous line, “What to my wondering eyes did appear.”  The little train was running on its old track around the base of Lee’s tree!  Lee had taken the train set to a local expert for rejuvenation, bought a new transformer, and set the track up for the first run in 64 years. Karen and beautiful wife Sandy did a great job of keeping the project a secret until the Christmas unveiling.

Now, seeing the “Holiday Express” chug around the track once again is my special gift every Christmas.  Here’s wishing you equal enjoyment this holiday season. And may you receive many special gifts throughout the New Year.

 

Mitten Mutterings

The Geezer’s native and adopted states survived a bit of a tiff this week when they decided to shake and make up.  It is unknown whether hands were protected by mittens during the shake.

Mitten or chopper?

The brouhaha began when Wisconsin’s travel bureau ran ads depicting the state as a mitten to promote winter vacations. The Michigan Economic Development Corporation promptly skewered its Wisconsin counterpart with some semi-harsh comments about “trying to steal our identity.” Lower Michigan long has been known as “The Mitten” for its resemblance on maps to that item of apparel.

 

There has been no known violence, but charges and counter charges flew between Badgers and Michiganders.  Wisconsin was accused of stealing this year’s Rose Bowl bid after its university football team pulled off a nail-biting win over Michigan State. Wisconsinites with what they thought were long memories said many years ago Michigan stole the whole Upper Peninsula from its natural position as part of Wisconsin. The prize was control of valuable timber supplies and mineral deposits.

The Geezer has thoroughly analyzed the data and arrived at several conclusions:

Travel Wisconsin’s mitten analogy was absurd.  Any kid who grew up in the frigid northern areas of either state knows the mitten image concocted by the Badger promoters far more resembles a “chopper.”  Choppers were made from deerskin and were worn over mittens.  They were ideal for making snowballs without getting the inner cloth hand-covering wet, thus avoiding reprimands from moms who disliked mitten-drying duties.

Wisconsin footballers indeed may have “stolen” a trip to Pasadena for the roses, but it only evened things up.  Michigan State stole the first game between the teams with an improbable desperation pass in the final seconds.  Even Steven, I say.

Michigan hardly can be accused of stealing the Upper Peninsula.  It became a state first, and thus in true American tradition was entitled to grab any land it could get its mitts on (pun intended).  The peninsula was an economic prize, but social integration has been a problem. The Geezer believes most Yuppers are closet Packers fans to this day.

All is well now.  The rival travel agencies joined forces to urge residents of both states to stop the squabbling and donate mittens to warm the hands of kids who need them.  No mention was made of choppers, although they probably would be accepted. Reports from involved charities say the joint campaign is a big success.

However, trying to show the Upper Peninsula as a little mitten in the campaign’s publicity does not work well.  That part of the logo looks more like a sick fish with a large dorsal fin.  Are we headed for a new controversy involving ice fishing?

Get the Real Deal

Some folks continue to assume that real Christmas trees are removed from forested areas, thus doing damage to the natural environment.  That simply is not true today. It probably seldom was true in recent history.

Back when I worked on the staff of the Boise National Forest, our District Rangers  issued a few permits for local residents to cut one tree about this time of year.  The charge usually was a dollar.  With the permit came instructions about where to harvest the tree so the forest would be improved in the long run.  Our Idaho City Ranger District was the only one to have a big program.

Near Idaho City several large burned areas had been reforested with ponderosa pines native to the sites.  Tree plantings can have a high percentage of failure in that part of the country if seedlings are mishandled or low rainfall prevails during the first few growing seasons when the little trees struggle to get established.  To counteract climate problems, foresters directed seedlings be planted quite close together, assuming there was a pretty good chance nature would thin the stands. 

Growing conditions at the Idaho City sites apparently were well above average.  As the trees got to be three to eight feet tall, they severely crowded each other and growth was slowed. So for a number of years the Idaho City foresters tagged trees for removal and invited the public out to select and cut a family Christmas tree.  Remaining trees grew more vigorously, the families had a ball, and taxpayer dollars were conserved because there was no need to hire crews to thin the stands.

The Idaho City program ended the year after I left for another job. Idaho City had a population of only 80, and thus most people had to travel some distance, usually from Boise, to get to the cutting sites. Despite that, the public response to the annual invitation for a family Christmas tree outing had been so good there simply was no further need to thin the plantations.  That was several decades ago, and I’ve not heard of any large-scale Christmas tree cutting in a National Forest or other forested area since then.

Lee and Karen with their selection at Peterson's nursery

Today, trees come from some 15,000 farms spread through all 50 states.  Michigan, where we cut our tree every year, ranks third among tree-growing states behind Oregon and North Carolina.  We are told the growers plant three trees for every one removed. Our experience supports that.  When we cut our tree at Peterson’s Riverview Nursery each year, we must be careful not to step on the new little seedlings as we move our prize to a loading area. 

Peterson’s is no rinky-dink operation.  Trailers pulled by tractors deliver customers to large cutting areas and return them and their trees to a processing site near the office.  Crews there put your tree in a shaking machine to remove foreign matter. They drill holes in the base to help you with mounting and also facilitate moisture movement into the tree after you have it in a stand at home. Workers will trim branches to your specifications. Then another machine ties the branches to form a neat bundle, and the men carry your tree to your vehicle.

It sounds like a big operation, and in some respects it is (this year Peterson’s shipped more than 6,000 wreaths in what is just one part of the business).  However, like most tree nurseries, this is no huge corporation run by overpaid executives who never dirty their hands with production work. Jerry and Anne Peterson started the business 18 years ago.  They and son Josh, now a co-owner, work in the fields and production and sales areas year round. The firm has six to 25 employees, depending on the season.

Every time we’ve gone to buy a tree we had an opportunity to chit-chat a bit with Jerry, Anne, and Josh.  They are local people.  Their nursery is only a few miles from our home in the same county.  It is nice to know payroll dollars and profits are returned to our area.

American tree farmers like the Petersons collectively sell 30 million Christmas trees annually.  The total has declined by about 3 million in the past 10 years.  The chief reason is the growing popularity of artificial Christmas trees.  No doubt some people have good reasons to buy the plastic trees, but enhancing the environment is not one of them.  Following are several reasons why buying a natural tree is a good deal.  Thanks to the Nature Conservancy for some of them:

1. Tree farming protects precious open space, keeping fairly large areas of land free from urban development.

2. More than 80 percent of artificial trees sold in the U.S. are manufactured in China.  They are made from vinyl plastics based on petroleum that require large amounts of carbon-producing energy in their manufacture. Vinyl plastics are among the most difficult to recycle.  When they can be, the reprocessing again requires large amounts of energy. Ships transporting the plastic trees across the Pacific burn big quantities of diesel fuel, emitting more air pollutants.

3. Natural trees, especially young, vigorous ones, purify the air we breathe by taking in carbon dioxide and giving off oxygen.  

4. After use, natural trees are easily recycled as mulch using simple chipping equipment, and the mulch improves soils as it breaks down.  About 4,000 communities in the U.S. have Christmas tree recycling programs.

5. Natural trees add a pleasant aroma to your home during the holidays.  Plastic trees, of course, cannot do this.

6. Selecting your tree at a lot, or cutting one at a nursery if you prefer, is a lot more fun than picking up a boxed plastic model at Walmart.  Son Lee and his fiancée Karen radiate pleasure with their find at Peterson’s nursery in the photo with this post.  So can you when you find and bring home the real thing.