Further Observations of Europe

Since my last post I have been home for a week, celebrating my 30th wedding anniversary, and taking home those three bottles of Ruppertsberger wine. It was a wonderful week, and the wine was surprisingly good, in my opinion.

Also, too, a colleague and I took a two-day trip over the July 4th weekend through southern Germany, western Austria, Liechtenstein, and northern Switzerland, overnighting in the heart of downtown Zurich. Liechtenstein, the fourth smallest nation on earth, is a delightful and charming place, barely 45 square miles and 22,000 citizens, and perhaps another 14,000 additional residents. Surprisingly diverse for such a small nation, it is a parliamentary monarchy boasting a new parliament building, and a beautiful and extensive National Museum. It was there that I learned of a generally unknown bit of World War II history concerning Liechtenstein.

I knew that during the war, the Germans recruited through the SS thousands (perhaps as many as a million!) of foreign soldiers. These troops came from every European nation, and in many cases there were enough to form separate companies, battalions, brigades and even divisions. The largest of these included the Russian Liberation Army (Русская освободительная армия) or POA. Not surprisingly, the Soviets labeled POA soldiers as traitors and at the war's end, POA soldiers were repatriated in accordance with allied agreements. They were tried and sentenced to death or detention in the infamous Gulag prison camps. Several leaders of the POA were tried and hanged in Moscow on August 1, 1946.

Interestingly, Liechtenstein ignored Soviet demands for extradition of a group of POA soldiers who entered Liechtenstein asking for political asylum. Most eventually emigrated to Argentina, though a small handful stayed in the Principality.

Our trip south was exclusively on the world-famous autobahns, the model for America's Interstates. Just as famously, autobahns GENERALLY have no speed limits. The exception is in built-up areas and construction zones. Reunification has soaked up huge amounts of funds, with the rebuilding of the eastern part of Germany leaving much to be neglected in the west. But, now necessary rebuilding and repair is ongoing in the west and construction zones are rampant. So, while shifting into 6th gear at 160km/h (100 mph) in my BMW rental, and holding it steady at 200 was really cool, the speed was frequently cut to 60 and 80 km/h in these zones.

And in Germany, what we refer to as "cloverleaf" are know in Germany as "Dreieck," an exact translation being "Triangle." In both cases, of course, it doesn't matter what shape the junction may be, the name's the same!

One of the things I have attempted here is to learn German. My experience at home has caused me to believe that it is rude to live in a nation and not learn it's language. So, I have endeavored to NOT be "That Guy," and to learn the local lingo. And much like American english, German has many different regional variations. An excellent example is numbers.

For instance, the number 20 can be pronounced three differnt ways that I'm aware of, and I have used all three - zwanzig, zwanzisch, and zwanzid. But, the greatest difficulty I have had is that as soon the German I'm speaking with understands that I am a foreigner trying to learn and speak German, they almost inevitably begin speaking english - "May I help you?" I always smile and continue the conversation in english, thinking, "Yeah, you can help by speaking German so that I can learn!" I have learned to say that I am a foreigner and that my German is poor. I have also tried hard to get the accent correct, too, even being asked once if I was Polish?! I smiled and answered "Amerikaner," to the very quizzical look of the inquirer. Belgians and Swiss kindly spoke German or English to me, just like the Germans. While in Spain, though, I found the locals seemed to refuse to speak english, even though they lived next to an American navy base! I did wonder if it had anything to do with the Spanish-British disagreement over Gibralter?

One other thing about Spain, at least in the Andalusia southwest, was the incredible staccato speed of the annunciation. I work with native Spanish speakers (Puerto Rican, Mexican, and a Spaniard) and some of them had difficulty understanding Andalusian Spanish!

Speaking of language, I have mentioned that I work with a number of Britons, and we constantly joke and bicker about the language, very much in good fun. The cultures are similar, but there are differences. One I like to emphasize is that Americans believe 300 years is a long time, and the British believe 300 miles is a long trip. One of my British colleagues looked at me seriously and stated, "But it IS a long trip!" I just smiled, as another of my colleagues, an American, replied emphatically, "No, it's not!" And it was in that vein that I was AMAZED that my trip through four countries (second paragraph) took a total of less than eight hours of driving time!

So far, I have found that my belief that the Lord brought me here is justified. My bonus has been to travel to ten different countries and Gibraltar in the sixteen months that I've been here. And if I had not taken this job, I would currently be looking for new employment. Many of my colleagues where I used to work are being released and retired. So, yes, the Lord does work in strange and mysterious ways.

And, I'm grateful.

This Is Just Too Easy

The ongoing efforts by our president and congress to avoid default and to adjust/increase/avoid the debt limit issue had me wondering what could be cut in our government that could help to keep the limit low and save our tax money? I went to the government's own website (www.usa.gov) and found the "A-Z Index of U.S. Government Departments and Agencies." Below is a list of various departments, agencies, admininistrations, et al, that I feel could easily be shut down and the funds sent to much more deserving programs, or back to Social Security. So, below is the alphabetical list and some suggestions:

- Administration for Children and Families - Why do we need to administer children and families. I'm fairly certain that such things have been done for centuries without government.
- Administration for Native Americans - Why? They pulled it off before Europeans arrived, and ever since non-natives have gotten involved, it's been pretty disastrous for the natives.
- Administration on Aging - Serously, people will age without government help.
- Administration on Developmental Disabilities - Much better served by charities.
- Administrative Committee of the Federal Register - What in the world does this committee do? Seriously?
- Administrative Conference of the United States - Dump it.
- Advisory Council on Historic Preservation - There are thousands of citizen and local government groups for this.
- African Development Foundation - Isn't this what USAID is supposed to do?
- Agency for Healthcare Research and Quality - This is a part of a larger issue, but since the US government has gotten involved in health care, costs have risen EVERY year over the cost of inflation.
- Agency for Toxic Substances and Disease Registry - A medical school or association can't do this much more effectively and cheaply?
- Agricultural Marketing Service - Let farmers and ADM do this themselves.
- Agricultural Research Service - Land grant universities do this.
- Agriculture Department - Outside of food inspection, useless.
- Alcohol and Tobacco Tax and Trade Bureau - IRS duties first, let trade be handled by the traders.
- AMTRAK - I LOVE trains, but this is an organization that needs an even playing field. Stop the wholesale subsidization of airlines, trucks and buses, and let them duke it out on their own.
- Animal and Plant Health Inspection Service - Do we really need this to tell farmers and ranchers if their products are healthy? I think this is likely something else. If so, change the name and move it out of the USDA.
- Appalachian Regional Commission - 80 years on and Appalachia is still a financial problem. Epic fail. Dump it.
- Architectural and Transportation Barriers Compliance Board - Seriously? Local folks can do this better and cheaper. If not, people can sue.
- Arctic Research Commission - Give this over to Alaska.
- Arms Control and International Security - An oxymoron.
- Arthritis and Musculoskeletal Interagency Coordinating Committee - Seriously? My tax dollars pay for this?
- Barry M. Goldwater Scholarship and Excellence in Education Foundation - I'm sure Barry would feel better if this was in the hands of a private group.
- Bonneville Power Administration Botanic Garden - Huh? no way.
- Broadcasting Board of Governors (Voice of America, Radio|TV Marti and more) - The signals are jammed and our propaganda doesn't get heard. Shut it down.
- Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, Firearms, and Explosives - I have never understood how all these are related. This is a troubled agency and probably needs to be shut down. Start over.
- Bureau of Alcohol and Tobacco Tax and Trade - Shouldn't this be BATFE?
- Bureau of Economic Analysis - The Wall Street Journal, CNBC and Forbes do this daily. Redundant.
- Bureau of Indian Affairs - See Administration for Native Americans above. Outlived its usefulness.
- Bureau of Industry and Security - Why. It just sounds really sinister and can be done by industry. According to Obama Industry is evil and sinister, anyway.
- Bureau of International Labor Affairs - We can barely deal with our own Labor issues.
- Bureau of Justice Statistics - Let the Bar do this.
- Bureau of Labor Statistics - For what reason?
- Bureau of Land Management - The largest landholder in America. Sell it off to private Americans in 40-acre plots and call it homesteading.
- Bureau of Public Debt - WSJ, CNBC and Forbes, thank you.
- Bureau of Reclamation - Let states handle this.
- Bureau of Transportation Statistics - WSJ, CNBC and Forbes, again.
- Center for Nutrition Policy and Promotion - Give me a break. Can you say "Social Engineering?" Sure I knew you could.
- Centers for Medicare & Medicaid Services - These need to be phased out along with this center.
- Chemical Safety and Hazard Investigation Board - Universities can do this better, I'm sure.

There are so many more: Chief Acquisition Officers Council, Chief Human Capital Officers Council, Citizens' Stamp Advisory Committee, and at least 200 others! I'll highlight a few others that emphasize failure, the sublime, and the ridiculous:
- Department of Agriculture - Keep the inspection services, ditch the rest. They don't work.
- Department of Commerce - Let businesses handle commerce.
- Department of Education - A complete failure by any and every measure. Get rid of it.
- Department of Energy - See Education above.
- Department of Health and Human Services - See Education above.
- Department of Homeland Security - Overstepping its bounds at every turn and doing a job the airlines should do on their own.
- Department of Housing and Urban Development - See Education above.
- Department of Labor - Outlived it usefulness.
- Department of Transportation - See Education above.
- Economic, Business and Agricultural Affairs (State Department) - USDA and Commerce aren't needed. Why do we need an office in this department?
- Economic Adjustment Office - Well this one is certainly screwing up!
- Economic Development Administration - as is this one.
- English Language Acquisition Office - I think we already own this language. Just saying. Or we co-own with some other contries.
- Office of Elementary and Secondary Education (OESE) - See Education.
- Federal Accounting Standards Advisory Board - We can't account for the Feds. Go figure.
- Federal Interagency Committee for the Management of Noxious and Exotic Weeds - Seriously? SERIOUSLY?
- Financial Crisis Inquiry Commission - Political hacks all. I wonder how much THIS is costing?
- Government National Mortgage Association - Fannie Mae and Freddie Mac was all there was, right?
- Indian Arts and Crafts Board - I'm fairly sure that Native Americans have got this down pretty well. Not needed.
- Indian Health Service - Still? How many nationalized health services are required?
- Information Resource Management College - Huh?
- Institute of Peace - Not working, last I checked.
- Interagency Council on Homelessness - FAIL!
- Japan-United States Friendship Commission - I'm pretty sure we're all buds, now.
- Joint Board for the Enrollment of Actuaries - The WHAT?
- Joint Congressional Committee on Inaugural Ceremonies - Oh you've GOT to be kidding.
- Joint Fire Science Program - hey, uh, fire burns. Program over.
- Millennium Challenge Corporation - The Millenium is 10 years on. Has there been a profit?
- Multifamily Housing Office - For apartments, condos, or overcrowded illegal aliens?
- National Capital Planning Commission - I thought those plans were executed over 200 years ago?
- National Commission on Fiscal Responsibility and Reform - Hahahahahaha! no, really, seriously?
- National Indian Gaming Commission - More interference with the natives.
- Office of Government Ethics - Phenomenonal failure. Just call the police.
- Overseas Private Investment Corporation- We overtax here and companies are exiting the country. We need this, why?
- Saint Lawrence Seaway Development Corporation - The St. Lawrence has been developed a LOOONNGGGG time. Time to spin it off.
- Selective Service System - For a draft only Al Sharpton wants.
- Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Administration - We're stuffing our kids with Ritalin, et al, and anti-psychotics are being prescribed by the bucket-load. Is this agency the culprit? Hmmmm?
- Susquehanna River Basin Commission - See St. Lawrence above.
- Tennessee Valley Authority - ditto.
- Veterans Day National Committee - Oh, PUH-lease. Turn this over to veterans groups.
- White House Commission on the National Moment of Remembrance - How many hours get wasted on this Moment?

Just these examples could save us how many BILLIONS of dollars?

Observations of Europe

I've now been in Europe fourteen months and have found the cultural differences between here and home to be quite fascinating. And much like America, there are diffrences between the nations of the European Union. Perhaps the MOST universal of all cultural issues is the attitude outside of France that France is a wonderful country. Its biggest issue is that it's full of Frenchmen. I really thought it was just an American thing, but, the negative opinions of French hubris and attitudes appear to be the same throughout all non-French-speaking nations. I've heard this comment almost universally from British, Germans, Walloons (Northern Belgium), and Spaniards, along with Americans.

The music scene here is unreal. The Mannheim-Ludwigshafen area is equivalent in size to the Columbia-Lexington, South Carolina areas - medium size metropolitan area. The area was heavily bombed and devastated by allied bombing in World War II, but has been completely rebuilt, to include the restoration of many historic buildings. Very industrial, it boast a concert schedule that would be the envy of many American cities. Bon Jovi, Anthrax, Neil Diamond, Scorpions, 30 Seconds To Mars, 50 Cent, Al Jareau, Bjork, Coldplay, Eagles and on-and-on. I have also gotten turned on to the German rock band Unheilig. Their hit of last year, "Geboren um zu Leben" was huge here in Germany (See http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=snLeeGyTKHw&feature=related) for a taste. Amazing stuff.

And amazingly for such a secular nation, holidays in Germany, except for Reunification Day, are all faith-based and always rate a wine or beer festival. Alcohol here is inexpensive and excellent. I'm not a beer drinker, but everyone else I know here is and they all agree that the beer here is excellent. And nearly EVERY town of any size has its own Brauerei (brewery). Many towns in the area immediately west of here (the other side of the Rhein) have Weinguten (wineries) in the Weinstrasse (Wine Road). I stumbled on the very small town of Ruppertsberg in the Weinstrasse and found the Ruppertsberger winery where I have purchased three of their wines, all for less the five euro, or seven dollars. That is not atypical for really excellent German wine. Those bottles are being saved for a trip home!

Sidewalk parking may be something I will really never get used to. The sidewalks in Europe are for pedestrians, cyclist and parked cars, and are maked as such.

Living space here is compact. Obviously, with Europe having half-as-many-more people and half the territory, land use is extensively regulated. Nearly every home, apartment, etc., is multistory. I have even encountered three-story homes with two or three generations of a family, one to each floor! The individual 'footprint' of the buildings are amazingly (in this American's eyes) small. They are masonry affairs with block walls about sixteen inches thick and heavily insulated. Most newer builds have roofs covered in solar panels, too. Yards are generally very small, too, and HIGHLY groomed.

I'll continue this review in a future post. But, before going I must relate a lighter note. I am intrigued by the similarity of the weather here to that of Western Washington and the Puget Sound region. They are so similar that I was afraid that Darlene, my wife, wouldn't like it here. While we were in Washington, she ran an Army regulated daycare in our military quarters on-post. I would ride my bike to-and-from work (like I do now), and would go home for lunch. On this particular, cold, dreary, June day I rode home to discover the kids on the playground out our back door in heavy coats. I walked into the house and greeted Darlene, who immediately turned to me and stated in a firm, angry voice, "When we move, we're moving to a place where it's warn when it's supposed to be warm!"
I replied, "Yes, Dear!" turned around and went to Burger King for lunch. It was clear - Darlene hated the weather and western Washington.

In that same vein, I told this story to some British colleagues who told me that the weather here is so much nicer than that in Britain. My first thought was, 'Well that explains why the English were such prolific colonizers. They were looking for something -anything- better."

Jody and "Home Defense"

The army trains using a variety of methods. One of the tools that is used and is freely and frequently messed up in movies are "jody calls," the cadences that the army uses to build teamwork and a sense of unity while marching and running.

I'm unsure of where the term "jody call" came from, but it shares the title with the ubiquitous "Jody." "Jody" is the guy who shows up at your home or apartment the day after you leave on deployment or training or duty.

My wife and I are in our thirtieth year of marital partnership and bliss. Even early in our marriage and military career/partnership, we were able to joke about infidelity. Even after the birth of our children, we embraced the military life much like the wonderful .38 Special Top-40 hit "Hold on Loosely" (but don't let go), and continued to joke around. And that's what we have done for 28 years now.

In early 2004 my unit was alerted for deployment to Iraq. Deployment is tough, even on families who are used to it. Factor in the word "combat" or "war," and, well, things get a tad edgier and more nerve-wracking. In the life of my children, I have been on the road in my civilian job or on military duty on more occasions than I, and probably my family, can count. Alabama, Florida, Georgia, Iraq, Kuwait, Louisiana, Mississippi, North and South Carolina, Spain, Tennessee, and Virginia have been darkened by my professional and military shadow in the lifetime of my children.

Through it all, my wife and family have held on loosely and kept that odd military sense of humor. So it was that just weeks before my departure to train for the upcoming deployment my wife and I were joking about "Jody."

"When Jody comes by, honey, just make sure the grass is mowed and and hedges are trimmed." We both smiled.

At that very moment, our 15-year-old daughter walked in hearing our conversation and asked the big, loaded question. "Who's Jody?"

...

...

The Pregnant Pause.

I looked at my wife, and she looked at me. Our daughter stood waiting patiently for an answer. Finally, I spoke.

Slowly.

"Uh, well, you see, uh, Jody is the, uh, (more quickly now) imaginary character who shows up the day after Daddy goes on deployment..." Big smile!

Our daughter's eyes narrowed, her left hip shot out with her left fist planted firmly upon it, and straight out shot shot her right arm, hand extended, index finger up and waving back-and-forth. "NOT in THIS house!" she stated emphatically and forcefully. I just looked at my wife and smiled.

She smiled right back.

Free Market Example for Airlines?

Imagine for a moment what would happen to America's and the World's airlines if they were forced off the government dole. Seriously.

Since 9-11 America's airlines have received billions of our tax dollars in subsidies, law-suit protection from terrorism (which in and of itself is ridiculous that any airline, person, or other business or entity could have foreseen and stopped such a sneak attack), tax-supported security (TSA), et al. And before that, those same airlines were subsidized with government air traffic control systems, government-owned and operated airports, and any number of programs bought and paid for by you and I. I've always wonder why in the world I have to buy a ticket when I've been helping to pay for it since I was fifteen (I'm at least three times that old now)!

What would happen if airlines had to own the airports? What would TSA be like if they had to treat you, the customer, as if you were actually a customer, instead of a crazed, terroristic maniac? What would occur if the air traffic control system was owned and run by the airlines? What if they had to manage the air lanes on their own because they owned them?

And what would happen if they had to pay property and other taxes on the items they used, instead of paying piddling amounts to the government owners - which is eventually you and me?

What would happen?

Today, right now, as you read this, there is a transportation mode in America that fills all these criteria!

Seriously? Really?

Yes. And today, these private companies are in better financial and physical condition than they have been in seventy years! Additionally, they pay substantially higher wages, benefits and retirements than most other businesses. And, their work force is generally less educated than similarly-compensated employees in other businesses inside and outside of transportation .

These companies own their means of transportation almost exclusively, paying property taxes to local and state governments. They control these routes with their own employees, controlling traffic all over their systems. They own most of the equipment, and buy and maintain it in their own shops, with their own employees. When they need new or expanded facilities, they build it themselves, and maintain it. If a piece of property is damaged, they will have it repaired and operating within days. They even have their own police forces that are required to be fully certified federally and in the states in which they operate. And they have been highly profitable, even through the nation's current financial difficulties.

That's America's freight railroads today.

Surprised? Most people are. But, these are the reasons that men like Warren Buffett and Bill Gates have invested heavily in railroads recently. Buffett stunned many when he bought, with billions of dollars, all outstanding shares of BNSF Railway, a company that operates from Birmingham to Seattle, San Diego to Chicago, and most placed in-between.

Incidentally, Buffett HASN'T been investing in airlines.

Perhaps it is time for airlines to emulate success, and demand that the government turn over the Federal Aviation Administration's TSA, Air Traffic Control, airports and buildings, and other pertinent items to them. It is clear that these things can't get managed much worse, and I'd be willing to bet that they could do it much better.

Maybe then Warren Buffett and Bill Gates would by an airline.

Parental Pride

I'm a parent. My son Ian is a truly unique individual who makes me proud.

Ian has struggled through his young life, especially in school, and it has been a great frustration to his parnets and other family. A great deal of it has been poor parenting on my part, and errors on his. And without a doubt, the local school district can take a lot of blame.

The first real indication of problems was when he was in first grade. I was at work and got a call from the school saying Ian had been in a fight with three second graders. I asked why nothing had been done after the first fight? The answer was that there had been only one fight, and that he had hurt the other three boys (broken nose, sprained anothers arm, and had injured the other in some way I don't recall). I was amazed, to say the least.

"So, you're telling me that my son beat up three older boys at the same time?"
"Yes, Mr. Baird."

Thus began ten years of counseling, IEP conferences, talks with counselors, psychiatric evaluations, et al. I recall the elementary school principal saying, "We to find a way for Ian to redirect his anger." And frustratingly, it seemed that the counselors were constantly pushing for we parents to find the solution, despite our current and past efforts, and despite the fact that they had the Masters Degrees in Early Childhood Everything.

Now, I had never been a good fighter, often being the loser of the few fights I got into. So, I was amazed. I had told Ian years earlier that he should never, EVER, start a fight. But should anyone ever start one with him, make sure he ended it. He took it to heart. But, what I didn't find out till nearly a decade later was that Ian FINALLY told me why he fought.

The first fight with the three second graders was caused by racism. Ian and his schoolmates were at recess, when he stepped around a corner of the school building and saw a young black boy cornered by three white boys. He knew none of them except for the fact that he had seen them at school.

"Hey ya'll. Whatcha doin'?"
"We're gonna kick this nigger's ass."
"Why?" asked Ian.
"'Cuz he's a nigger," came the reply.
Ian stepped between the three and their victim and told them emphatically that the would have to get through him first. They tried. They failed and he ended up hurting all three. He was reported for fighting and told that it was bad to fight. So, by the time we parents were able to speak to him, all he did was shrug his shoulders when asked why he was fighting.

Later, in the third grade he smashed a kid's head into a desktop. It was about eight years later, at the same time he explained the first grade fight, that he told me that he was defending a young classmate from a bully.

Typically, a bully was picking on a girl. The girl did all the things she was supposed to do, going to her teacher, then the principal, parents, etc. And typically, all that was done was to tell the children that "You have to find a way to get along with each other." Of course, all that did was to empower the bully.

One day, the boy was picking on the girl and Ian told the boy to leave her alone, or Ian "would deal with" the boy his self. When the boy continued to pick on the girl, Ian dealt with him.

In both cases my son was suspended from school.

I was amazed that a boy, just six years old, had the wherewithal and the sense of justice to decide to step in front of three white boys to defend a single black child he didn't know. I'm proud that he stood up for a girl who couldn't stand up for herself.

Nevertheless, the actions of the school and myself as his father affected my son greatly. For a decade I did not understand my son's "anger," when in reality it was justifiable outrage at injustice. How could I not be proud of that?

My great regret is my inability to understand this. I'm half-a-century-plus in age, and I realize that I still don't have the insight I need to truly be the father I wanted and want to be.

But, I also know that I'm proud of my son, and that he is an amazing young man.

And I wish that I had the sense of honor, courage and justice that my son has.

My Pets.

I was born into a family with pets. My father had dogs and my mother had a bevy of pets including three flying sqirrels!

My first pet may well have been the dumbest of the lot. I can't remember this floppy-eared beagle's name, but he just could NOT be house-trained. So at the age of four I lost my first pet. I remember lying in the back of the station wagon (back when there were station wagons, car seats didn't exist, and seat belts were mostly for decoration) holding my dog and crying my eyes out, begging my mom to let him stay. Little did I know that this initial loss would be a trend for years to come.

I also had a turtle and a fish-or-two.

My next furry pet I shared with my brother, a seal-point Siamese cat whose name I can't remember, either (it's been 45 years - give an old guy a break). He lived and endured us for a few years in Des Moines, Iowa. He loved affection, a bit odd for a Siamese, and would actually crawl into bed with me every night, creep under the blankets or sheet, and curl up next to me. We lost him when we went on vacation one winter to visit family over Christmas. Left with friends, he got out of the house and was later found frozen to death under their house.

Dad located another Siamese cat that we named Petey. Petey was a bit more aloof, but was still a great cat. We sent him away when we moved into a new home in Council Bluffs, Iowa, and he decided that he would rather mark the territory with his feces, especially on Mom's shoes. Dad found him a home with a major dog breeder. That scared me, but Dad assured me everything would be fine. I didn't ever find out for sure if it was fine because soon afterward Dad went off to Vietnam and Mom insisted that we move closer to 'home.'

We soon found ourselves in Mississippi, in the same town as my Dad's father and stepmother, and just 45 minutes away from my Mom's closest sister who lived in Alabama. It was in Mississippi that we adopted a kitten that will likely be the most unique cat that I've ever called a pet.

Rosie was a slight, black-and-white, female cat that we later found had nearly died when she and her mother had been chased into a stream by a dog. Rosie nearly drowned but made it out to became the single greatest feline dog hunter I've ever known, as well as perhaps the smartest cat I've ever seen. We named her for her bright-red nose.

Small, about five pounds, she made the move with us to a large wooded lot in South Carolina. We lived way out in the woods, the daily bus ride to school took an hour-and-half one way. She would follow us every morning to the bus stop along US Highway 601 and wait until we were on the bus. Then she would go home, into the woods, or on a few occasions, stand or sit beside the road till traffic passed, and stroll across the highway. In the afternoon, she would go to the door to be let out by Mom, and would go up to the bus stop to meet us and walk us home.

We would hunt rabbits and birds, my brother and I, and wherever we went, Rosie followed along, much as a dog would. She had a hatred of dogs, though. I watched transfixed one day as I saw a lost deer-hunting dog walk up to the edge of the woods at our yard. He quickly spied Rosie lying still in the middle of the yard, sunning herself. Dogs being dogs, the poor pooch charged. Rosie didn't move. The dog very quickly closed and just when he thought his prey was his, Rosie sprang on him with all twenty claws! The dog quickly turned tail and ran as Rosie took chase, fur flying from the dog's haunches! It was amazing to watch as this 60-to-80-pound dog ran yelping through the woods as this miniscule cat took chase, hissing and growling till the dog was gone. And I saw her do this on at least two other occasions, too.

Rosie moved with us again to a brand-new home just off US Highway 1. She stayed with us many more years, but was later killed alongside the highway, apparently by a car.

After moving into our new home we got a beautiful, black Labrador Retriever pup. Before his first birthday we learned that he had a fast moving form of arthritis that was quickly destrying his hips. Dad and I took him to the vet to be put down. We buried him beside Rosie in the yard.

After that, we got a wonderful Golden Lab puppy we named Princess. One of the smartest dogs I've ever known, she was an amazingly protective animal who knew absolutely the limits of our yard. And she protected that yard and the house from anyone she didn't know. A wonderful dog, she and Cyclops, our one-eyed cat (he apparently lost it in a fight - we got him at the pound)lived at our home for years, well after I had left for college, bought my own home and gotten married.

In the new home of Darlene and I, we got a dog I named Frodo, and a beautiful, gray, female cat named Natasha. The dog we soon had to give away, but Natasha stayed. She even provided my parents and sister a new cat to replaced the recently-deceased Cyclops with one of her first litter, a black male named Brando. His identical brother I named Jet.

Natasha moved with us to Hawaii, but disappeared one day. She would occasionally show up, but eventually she never returned. We kept one of her second litter, a very affectionate, but very dim male I named Gimpel, after a short story of the same title named after the mentally-challenged hero. He also died early. Our move to Colorado saw us take along yet another cat from Hawaii. That cat was there for our daughter Samantha's birth, followed us back to South Carolina, then accompanied us to Washington. It was on our way home from Washington that he was lost in a car accident that destroyed our van and his cat carrier. I went back to the accident scene on a couple of occasions, but we never found him, dead or alive.

Upon our return home to South Carolina, we bought a home and soon took in Mudge, a very large Golden Lab-Chow mix, and Sami, a cat our daughter named after herself ("Sami-cat"). Sami cat met a quick and untimely death. She is buried in the front yard. Petrie came next, a large, long-haired, black female. She was a very happy and affectionate cat, who loved to groom herself and whoever happened to be around. I have short hair, and Petrie would like to crawl into bed and onto my pillow at night and groom me. Darlene hated it, but it didn't bother me in the least.

Mudge grew into a 100-pound dog who was an incredible hunter. He brought home over the years mocking birds, blue jays, moles, muskrats, possums, raccoons, a deer, snakes, squirrels and rabbits. He loves guns and fireworks, chasing rockets and Roman candles, and jumping all around in the midst of popping fire crackers. He kept strays out of the neighborhood for years and loved little children, being a fixture during the years of my wife's home daycare as children, beat, pulled, tugged, and jumped on him. He would just lie there with his tail just wagging.

Our other cat is Lola, a gray stray we found one day. She became my cat and can be quite aloof, though she has a hunger for affection.

Mudge is old now, and I have instructed Ian, our son, to fire off fireworks and then take Mudge out to the woods to hunt squirrels on his last day. Mudge's last thought will be a happy one as he hears the gun go off. I don't want him at the vet's, a place he hates. That, I believe, would be too cruel.

Petrie, though, is the reason for this. My daughter called tonight to say that Ian had found her under the house, dead. She was old for a cat, about 14 years. A wonderful pet, she is the first pet I ever have kept from birth to death. I'll miss her and her careful grooming of my occasionally sunburned head.

Suicide Is Not A Military Innovation

I have been amused, if not amazed, by the attitudes of people concerning suicide bombings and the like as practiced by our most current enemy. In the north of Iraq in 2004 I tried to instill in my colleagues the necessity of vigilance and care in the defense of our compound perimeter due to the possibility of an assault. Most answered with comments along the lines of, "That'd be crazy. We'd kill em all."

Well of course.

This isn't the first time that we, as Americans have encountered an enemy so filled with hatred and a desire for glory in their Heaven that they would willingly die to kill us. World War II in the Pacific, especially in the Phillipines and Okinawa, showed a Japanese ability to die for their cause through suicide. Kamikaze (suicide attacks by aircraft), Banzai (suicide charges by infantry) and harikiri (self-disimbowelment), and similar naval tactics, were standard in the Imperial Japanese military. Thousands of American, British, Australian and other allied soldiers, sailors and Marines were killed by these tactics.

The Korean War saw United Nations Forces, led by the US, fight against human wave attacks by Communist Chinese forces. These were clearly suicidal, though probably not what one would consider suicide attacks.

But, just a few years later in Vietnam, US soldiers encountered suicide assaults in conjunction with Viet Cong and later North Vietnamese attacks. These troops would throw themselves across barbed and concertina wire barriers, risking sure death, to ease the way for their comrades to charge through the defensive perimeters. Other communist soldiers would strap satchel charges to their bodies and rush into command bunkers and ammunition stores, triggering their explosives once inside. Ask any old American infantry Vietnam veteran about these tactics. They were real and they were tactically effective.

This is an old tactic used in the modern day today by Muslim terrorist suicide bombers. Why should anyone be surprised?

Grafitti Surprise

There have been a few surprises here in Germany for me. I was caught off guard at the high cost of living, for one. If their is anything I've found truly surprising is the prevalence of grafitti everywhere. And what is really surprising is the quality of the artistry!

Now we've all seen the variety of grafitti all over America. Most of it really is of poor quality, much of it being gang symbols and marks. The closest thing I've encountered to gangs here in Europe was a couple of young teenage boys on the local trolley. Dressed in the current gang attire, with baggy pants, bandanas, and hats worn sideways, they were listening to hip hop as they sat. My first thought was, "you two wouldn't last two seconds in South Central (Los Angeles)." Of course, it would occur to anyone that a 'drive-by' would be a bit tough from a trolley!

So, without the gang grafitti, the art is quite good, and apparently tolerated. Bright, colorful, cartoon-like, serious, beautiful, frightening, realistic, graphic - it's all there. And unlike in the States, though, there seems to be a sense of discipline with grafittists here that American "practitionists" lack. Trains roll by here generally unscarred by "spray bomb," though solitary buildings, walls, posts, and the like are mostly covered and 'tagged'. Some efforts are made by owners to clean and repaint vandalized areas, but as in America, the efforts are mostly useless. I saw a building that had had construction completed one day, and was completely covered by grafitti within two days!

The biggest shock was the discovery in Old Heidelberg of a grafitti store! This shop had clothing, and mostly spray paint cans of nearly every color! It was an amazing display of acceptable vandalism!

Only in Germany, I guess!

Gibraltar Expoundage

OK. I don't really think that "expoundage" is actually a word, but I did promise to say more about Gibraltar in a previous post, so now I will:

Wikipaedia states that Gibraltar "...is a peninsula of 6.843 square kilometres (2.642 sq mi)" and that it has a "densely populated city area, home to almost 30,000 Gibraltarians." Considering that The Rock, as the towering peak is known, takes up about two-thirds of the peninsula, that means that all the citizens of the town are crammed into an area of about a square mile.

Gibraltar sits at a very southern point of Spain, jutting into the Straights that divide the Meditteranean Sea from the Atlantic Ocean. Captured in 1704 from Spain by Dutch and British forces during the War of Spanish Succession, the subsequent peace treaty granted the small plot of land to Great Britain in perpetuity, which of course means forever in "realspeak."

Gibraltar is a piece of England that may be more English than the Home Country. I drove into the territory directly from the Spanish city of La Linea de la Concepcion, past the customs house entrance, and south into Gibraltar. This was not possible for fifteen years between 1970 and 1985 during the fascist Franco regime. The irony was that Spain and Britain were both NATO allies then as they are now! Incredibly, the only road connecting the place to Spain crosses the airport runway, with stop lights at each side to stop auto and pedestrian traffic when airplanes line up to land.

Spain has demanded a renunciation of the peace treaty for years and years, and the return of the territory to Spain. Two referenda on returning Gibraltar have been held and the last was defeated by 99% by the citizens of the territory! The irony is that Spain maintains six "plazas de soberanía" (places of sovereignty) on and along the Mediterranean coast of Morocco, the two largest and most famous being the cities of Ceuta and Melilla. Morocco is just as adamant that these territories belong to them, and that Spain needs to leave. My suggestion is that the British invite Morocco to any negotiations with Spain about Gibraltar and include the plazas in the talks. Seems to me that the discussions would be really intersting.

The first surprise to me in Gibraltar was that everyone drove on the right side of the street. The standard in Britain, of course, is left-side driving. It matters little, though, as many roads there are one way, and there are so few (it's only a square mile-or-so, remember). The roads are small and curvy and packed.

After driving to the south end of the peninsula and shooting a number of photos of Morocco and the abundant sea traffic, I drove to the center of town, parking at the cable car station and rode to the top of The Rock. The views of the town, the Spanish mainland and the surrounding seas were spectacular. The monkeys were cool, too.

Legend says that British garrisons years ago brought Barbary Macaques as mascots to the outpost. There is some evidence that they were there before the British conquest. Either way, they are the only outpost in Europe of any type of wild monkey.

In town, everything is tight. It is the type of place that would make a New Yorker feel comfortable, except that the roads are minimally sized, much as all roads in ancient, European towns. It was at once vibrant and claustrophobic. And fully British, with everyone talking in a wonderfully English accent. I heard not a word of Spanish!

It made a great afternoon trip from our quarters at our hotel in Rota, Spain.