My Heart Grieves Today

I spend a lot of time pushing a lawn mower around my yard.  Usually, I would listen to music on my iPod, but a few years ago, I started listening to sermons of various preachers whom I had come to respect.  David Wilkerson, founding pastor of World Challenge Ministries and Times Square Church in New York City, was one of those preachers.  He stood firm in faith and brought thousands to the love of Christ.  This morning, I learned that Rev. Wilkerson was killed yesterday in a terrible head-on collision with a truck in Texas.  His beloved wife, Gwendolyn, survived the crash but is in critical condition.  My heart grieves for this terrible loss.  Although he is now with Jesus and partaking of the glory of God's heavenly kingdom, my prayers are with Gwendolyn, other members of David's family and the multitudes of Christians that were touched by this remarkable human being.  May he rest in peace.

Operation Caught in the Act Nabs First Perpetrator

Although the offense is not actionable--one of the lollipop reflectors was taken out of its hole and placed a few feet away--Operation Caught in the Act has succeeded as a proof of concept.  So who was playing with the reflector?  Nocturnal creatures commonly referred to as teenagers.  Meanwhile, the grass that we planted in the tire spin areas is finally starting to grow.  Just maybe Operation Caught in the Act is having the desired deterrent effect on our main suspect.

The Animal Has Been Placed in a Cage, Hopefully Forever

Well it appears that the animal who administered the beat down that I saw on Monday will be charged as an adult with attempted murder in connection with the National Zoo stabbing.  The Washington Post has the whole story here.  Apparently what I thought was the attacker punching the victim was really the attacker stabbing the victim.  Pure evil.  A complete disregard for human life.  I hope he gets everything he deserves in prison.

Rest, Relaxation and Deadliest Catch

This is a night for kicking back. Stressful day at work today. As usual, I am waiting for the cat to come in--I've only called her five times. She is consciously ignoring me, so here I sit, watching Deadliest Catch. Waiting. Wishing I could go to bed . . . now.

Update: just finished scouring the yard and calling for her. She was about 20 feet from the deck sitting in some landscaping. As soon as I got close to her she made a beeline for the deck--under the deck that is. She has 20 minutes to come to the door. After that, she's on her own.

Update 2: In for the night. Four minutes to spare.

Beyond Disturbing

For The past week, traffic along Connecticut Avenue in NW DC has been at a standstill for much of the day as families on Easter break made their way to visit the National Zoo. I expected the same to be true today, which is traditionally African-American Family Reunion Day at the Zoo. What I didn't expect to see was a mob of about 50 teenagers running between six lanes of cars in rush hour traffic. The teens were viciously beating another teen and repeatedly kicking him in the head with all their might. When the attackers finished with the beating they ran down the middle of Connecticut Avenue. They left the victim on the ground in the middle of the street directly in front of a car. The woman in the car was visibly shaken by what she had witnessed. The victim got up and began staggering back and forth in the street until someone called for him to come to the sidewalk. I could hear sirens approaching but traffic was too heavy to enable the responding officers to catch any of the attackers.

So disturbing. Such a sad commentary on the state of our society.

UPDATE: Apparently, I saw the continuation of this.

UPDATE 2: The story has gone national now.  Fortunately, it appears that the police were able to arrest a suspect.

High Fares, Shoddy Service and Now This . . .

File this beside unkempt median strips as yet another indication of social decline.  I gave up riding Metro several years ago. I simply had had enough.  My beef with Metro started almost from the first time I ever road the train after coming to the DC area in the late 90s.  I had always heard that DC's subway system was so much newer than that of most east coast cities.  I thought that riding it would be a pleasure, particularly after enduring for years the small, antiquated trolley cars that rolled up and down the T's Green Line in Boston.

Any romantic notions I had about the DC subway became somewhat tarnished on my very first trip.  Put simply, I had sticker shock.  The fare from Dupont Circle to the end of the Red Line was nearly three times the fare that I used to pay to ride a Green Line train in Boston from Government Center to the end of the line.  But still, it was far easier to pay the fare and not have to drive to downtown DC.  Parking at the station was plentiful and reasonably priced.  I knew I was saving money on gas and parking, as well as wear and tear on my car.  Besides, I used to get in a good nap in the morning on the way to work.  But after several fare hikes and increases in parking fees, it simply became too expensive.  At current rates, riding Metro for the last 10 miles of my 30 mile commute would cost approximately $281 per month.  By contrast, it costs me approximately $182 to drive the 10 additional miles and park in the garage below my building. 

My other problems with Metro?

• Reliability - Metro just isn't reliable any more.  When I first began riding it, there rarely were delays.  Today, delays and escalator/elevators outages are the norm.  The lunch room at work is always abuzz with the latest horror stories of long delays and overcrowded platforms.
• Safety - People have died in Metro accidents.  A Washington Post investigation conducted in response to the latest deadly accident in 2009 revealed significant lapses in safety protocols.
• Unhealthy Environment - The trains smell.  The stations smell.  Too many germ-laden hands touching seats and hand railings.  Hacking and coughing.  Blechhhhhhh!  Even though I always washed my hands after riding the subway, I found that I had far fewer colds after I stopped riding Metro.  Also airconditioning seems to be optional on Metro trains during the long, hot and humid summers in DC.  There's nothing quite like being thrust into someone's sweaty arm pit for 40 minutes on an unairconditioned train in mid-August.
• Tourists - They're everywhere this time of year.  Strollers on the escalators are particularly problematic.  And why do they insist on riding the subway during rush hour? 
• Threat of Terrorism - I admit it.  I am a control freak.  I would rather take my chances getting out of DC in my car than to rely on Metro to be running in the event of a terrorist attack.  And at least one Jihadist had his sights set on blowing up several Metro trains.
• Unruly, Dangerous Patrons - Pushing and shoving to get on and off trains.  Loud gangs of unruly teenagers, particularly in the afternoons and late at night.  It has become downright dangerous to ride the rails in DC. 

All in all, I'd rather drive.  The worst congestion in the nation is simply not as bad as a daily ride on the DC Metro.

Neighbors Behaving Badly

One thing I've learned after living in the exburbs for the past 13 years is that people move there so they can do whatever they want without having to be considerate of their neighbors.  There are the barking dogs at all hours of the night, teenagers who get a thrill out of bashing in mailboxes with a baseball bat, and like clockwork every fall, the leaf wars erupt.  We even have neighbors on both sides of us that treat our property like it's their own personal country club, hitting golf balls into our yard.  Isn't that what driving ranges are for?

One of the most destructive things exburbanites do to cause the ire of their neighbors, usually in retaliation for some perceived slight (or see teenagers above), is to drive across their neighbor's lawn and spin their tires to ruin the grass and create long tire trenches in the ground.  It can take an hour or more of work to repair the damage, and when you have multiple acres of land to take care of, the last thing you want to do is repair tire spins.

We discovered two long tire spins on our tree lawn earlier this spring.  We didn't know whether it was caused by a neighbor, some teenagers or one of the many school buses that drive up and down our street, as the tire tracks were on the edge of the road.  We repaired the strips and placed chicken wire and straw on top to hold the dirt and grass seed in place.  A few days later, however, we discovered that someone once again had driven over the area leaving big ruts in the ground.  We again repaired the area and this time put a lollipop reflector in front of the repair to warn people not to drive over the area--as if all the straw was not already warning enough!.  Within four days, someone drove over the area and once again ruined the work that we had done.  Undaunted, we repaired the area and placed another lollipop reflector in the middle of the repaired area.  Two days later, someone again drove over the area, this time swerving in and out between the reflectors to cause maximum damage without running over the reflectors.  We now had no doubt that the acts were intentional.

Operation Caught in the Act

We have a suspect in mind, but we won't know for sure until we catch him (or her) in the act.  That's where Operation Caught in the Act comes in.  We hid a camouflaged game camera in some trees behind our fence and positioned it to monitor the grass that we repaired.  The camera operates on a motion detector so if anyone drives over the area, the camera will take nine high-definition photos.  If, despite the camouflage, the suspect sees the camera and tampers with it, he (or she) will be recorded on another camera that monitors the first camera.  Brilliant!  

So Operation Caught in the Act is now in effect, and I can't wait to see how it turns out.  At the very least, the grass that we planted will grow and my lawnmower won't get caught in tire ruts any more.

Good Friday and Earth Day

Talk about irony.  Both Good Friday and Earth Day fall on the same day this year. Unfortunately, our culture seems to be much more concerned with loving Mother Earth than with loving Jesus.

Update:  Here's proof.

"Peep" Show Offers Glimpse into Interests, Concerns of DC-Area Residents

Viewing the winning entry and 35 finalists in the Washington Post's annual Peep Show contest, which involves readers creating dioramas that feature marshmallow peeps in various scenes, I have made the following conclusions about DC-area residents:

• They love movies and TV shows - Everything from Black Swan and Inception to The King's Speech were peepified.  On the TV side, Hoarders made it into diorama form, albeit a very crowded one. Can't say I blame them about the whole Hoarders phenomenon.  I am utterly fascinated by hoarding, but I'll save that for another time.
• They love their iPhones and iPads - Yep, even the long waiting lines at area Apple Stores were represented in peeps, as was at least one "app"--"Angry Peeps."  Again, can't say I blame them.  Either my iPhone or my iPad is with me at all times, although I don't know if I would ever wait in line to buy them.  I don't really buy anything other than groceries in person.
• They don't like being groped by the TSA, but then again, who would?
• They don't much care for either Metro or the local electric utility, Pepco.  I gave up riding Metro on a regular basis years ago because of the sheer incompetence with which the system is run.  I would rather brave traffic than ride Metro.  As for Pepco, its ability to keep people in the dark for days after the most routine of storms in the area is uncanny.
• They have A LOT of extra time on their hands.  These are not the dioramas you did in grade school.  They are complex and undoubtedly took many hours to construct.

So go ahead, take a look.  It's one peep show you can view out in the open. 

On Hand Transplants and Surgeries

The Blaze has a remarkable story posted today about a California woman who received a hand transplant.  The woman had her right hand amputated five years ago following an accident and received the transplant last month.  Doctors expect that ultimately she will have approximately 60 percent functionality in the transplanted hand.

What caught my eye about this story was the original title of the story:  "Hand Transplant Allows Woman to Clap for First Time in 5 Years."  I had hand surgery back in January and although it certainly was not as complex as a hand transplant, I found it very difficult to clap until recently.  I could type adequately as soon as the cast came off and I could write about a month following the surgery, but clapping remained extremely painful, and it was frustrating because I realized that I clap much more than I ever had considered.  It's one of those small things that you don't really think about until you can't do it.

Thankfully, I'm back to clapping and pretty much everything else.  I wish the hand transplant woman the best as she continues with her extensive physical therapy regimen.

Random Thought for the Day

It's hard to be in a bad mood with a blue drink sitting in front of you. Think about it.

MTOW

It seems to me that there is a lot of money to be made in formulating and shamelessly promoting management theories. My first taste of Management Theory of the Week came back in the mid-90s when I was at business school. Back then, focusing on "core competencies" was all the rage. That was supplanted by something else, and then something else after that. And so on. I didn't pay anything more than lip service to it at the time, and my attitude hasn't changed since. Management (and recently leadership) theories exist solely to make money for their originators through book sales and speaking engagements. They divert attention away from the productive act of doing the work to further an organization's mission and focus that attention on the unproductive act of navel gazing. So I think I will originate and promote my own radical management theory. It won't take long to write the book. In fact, the book will have only 9 pages:

Page 1: Don't
Page 2: over
Page 3: think
Page 4: this.
Page 5: Just
Page 6: get
Page 7: the
Page 8: work
Page 9: done!

I predict it will be a best seller.

Nanny Statism Takes All the Fun Out of Childhood

First they came for the sugary soft drinks and sweet treats because we're all obese.  Then certain holiday celebrations were disallowed because we have to be politically correct.  And forget about playground equipment.  Can't have slides, swings or merry-go-rounds.  No, no, no.  The delicate little hothouse flowers might injure themselves and their parents might sue.   Well now, the nanny-staters in New York have taken what semblance of fun was left on the playground and declared such games as Tag, Capture the Flag, Dodgeball, Kickball and my personal favorite, Red Rover, to be "risky" activities requiring the organizers of any program that offers two or more organized recreational activities (with one or more being on the risky list) to register as a summer camp and provide medical staff.  Huh?  Really?

These people would have been aghast at the activities offered by the overnight summer camp that I went to as a kid.  I swam.  I sailed. I water skied.  I shot archery.  I played capture the flag.  I jumped on trampolines.  I shot (gasp) a .22 rifle.  Oh, the horror!!!!

And that doesn't even include the playground games we played during recess.  In the long winters of northern New Hampshire, the snow piles got pretty large.  Nothing was more fun than scrambling to the top of one of those snow piles and declaring myself "King of the Mountain," pushing down those who would seek to "dethrone" me.

It seems to me that the nanny staters are at cross-purposes here.  Children these days are all obese, or so we're told.  We're admonished to get them outside and moving, yet the same people who are telling us this are then telling us that once outside, kids can't do anything that's actually fun--everything is either too dangerous or hurts children's self-esteem.  We need to stop listening to the nanny staters and just let kids be kids so they, too, can have fond memories of life back in the day.

UPDATE:  Thankfully, the wretched playground regulation has been withdrawn.  Read more.

Unkempt Median Strips as Evidence of Social Decline

I have a long commute.  I travel on surface roads to and from my job in DC every day.  All those hours spent sitting at traffic lights affords me plenty of time to observe my surroundings.  Everywhere from the District through the Maryland suburbs of Chevy Chase, Kensington, Silver Spring and Olney, median strips have been left to high grass, weeds, storm debris and leaves.  They are mowed only two to three times during the prime growing season, and when they are mowed, the overly long grass is blown out into the street where it becomes a hazard for drivers, particularly if it rains.  They have become an eye sore and, to me, signify a much more ominous development:  social decline  Yes, the economy is bad.  Yes, county budgets are tight.  But when a city or town loses pride in its appearance, what will follow next?  Why don't the citizens of these areas take the initiative to pick up where the county has failed them?  Why?  Sadly, the answer is apathy and a lack of a sense of community identity.  Even more outrageous, if citizens did take action to clean up the median strips, they undoubtedly would be told by county authorities to cease and desist out of concerns about liability or violating regulations about work by private citizens.

Take note the next time you drive.  What you see just may dishearten you. 

More on Everest

As I sit patiently waiting for my cat to show up at the door--chasing her around the yard did no good--I will continue my discussion of mountaineering disasters. There have been two major mountaineering disasters on Everest during the modern period of mountaineering. The first occurred in 1996 and was made famous in Jon Krakauer's book, Into Thin Air. Eight climbers died during a single summit attempt on May 11, 1996. Out of that tragedy, however, was a miraculous story of survival that has captivated me since I first read about it. A Texas pathologist, Beck Weathers became blinded by altitude on his way up the mountain. He was told by his guide to wait where he was until the guide returned from summiting the mountain with another climber. The guide--Rob Hall of New Zealand--never returned. He, along with the client, died on the mountain. Unable to see, Weathers made his way down to the area of the camp where each mountaineer launches his or her summit bid but because of a terrible storm and his inability to see, he could not find the camp. He found other climbers from his expedition but they too were disoriented. They huddled together to try to stay warm, but as the storm intensified, frostbite set in. The group lost sight of Weathers when he broke away from them and began tearing his clothes off--a sign of extreme hypothermia. Eventually, another member of the group set off to find the camp, and returned with other climbers to find the group. The climbers found Weathers but deemed him too far gone to make it to the camp. He was left for dead. But Weathers had a will to live and somehow found the strength to make it back to the camp the next morning. He collapsed in a tent and again was deemed too far gone to survive. Because of the extreme altitude, climbers can only stay at the high camp for a short period of time. There is simply not enough oxygen at that altitude to sustain life for any appreciable length of time. The surviving climbers left the camp and descended to a lower altitude, again leaving Weathers for dead. Again, however, Weathers summoned a strength borne solely out of his own will to live and made his way down the mountain despite legs that were nearly frozen solid and severe frostbite in his hands and arms.

That demonstration of the will to live triumphing over seemingly insurmountable odds is what captivates me. I have read numerous books about the 1996 disaster and, more recently, the tragedy in 2006 in which 12 climbers died, including Englishman David Sharp.  Sharp was found alive in the Death Zone (above 26,000 feet) but was in such a state as to be unable to walk.  He was left to die.  Australian Lincoln Hall was also left to die in the Death Zone but miraculously survived a night on the mountain and was rescued by a group of climbers.  What made the difference between dying on the mountain and surviving a night alone on the mountain?  I've read Lincoln Hall's book about the event, Dead Lucky, but it's still not clear to me why he held on while Sharp did not.  My only conclusion:  a stronger will to live and the grace of God to make it happen.

Is this Everest?

I chose this mountain background for my blog because it certainly looks like Mt. Everest, though I am not exactly sure because it is not the typical view of the mountain.  I have a fascination with mountaineering disasters, particularly those that have occurred on Everest.  It's not so much the disaster aspect that fascinates me but rather the survival stories that come from those disasters.   More later.

Welcome to Nodamidis

Welcome to Nodamidis, the musings and meanderings of  . . . me, Nodamidis.  What kind of a name is nodamidis, you ask?  Well, it's a descriptive name--I'm NO-DAMsel-In-DIStress.  I'll tell you exactly what's on my mind.  So stay tuned.   You just never know when the muse will descend upon me.