I’ve got to tell you a secret...
When I left on June 17 for my great adventure in the Northwest Territories, I was convinced that it would probably be my last road trip.
I had a doctor appointment set for a few days after I returned, and I was certain that the doctor was going to find some incurable fatal disease that was hiding in my body.
Partly for that reason, I really went all out to see and do everything I could on the long journey. Of course, there were some constraints, like money, time and physical ability.
The reason I took that long and strenuous hike up the bluffs above the Columbia River to see those wonderful waterfalls, was that I figured it would probably be a good way to go if I wasn’t up to it.
Now, isn’t that poetic?
The trip up Mount Evans to over 14,000 feet altitude was another trek that I probably shouldn’t have taken. I know that I was really dizzy and out of breath when I walked around in that upper parking lot at the summit.
I took it easy and made several stops on the way back down the mountain to take my pictures, so it wasn’t as bad as I pictured it up there in the clouds.
Actually, I had experienced some internal aches and pains of undetermined nature prior to taking the trip, and that only made me more certain that there was something serious going on inside.
I was determined to do this one last thing, my “bucket list’ as it were, before I checked out.
When I realized, about halfway up the bluffs in Oregon, that my back and shoulders were no longer aching, I began to wonder if I was imagining the seriousness of the symptoms. There were other indications that my problems were not as bad as I had at first thought.
I completed my trip (alive, by golly) and kept my appointment with my doctor. I was completely honest and thorough with him about my symptoms.
The doctor, in turn, was unimpressed with most of what I told him, and suggested a few over-the-counter remedies to relieve the aches and pains. Things like vitamins, calcium and such were “prescribed” and I was sent on my way with no expensive tests, drugs or (God forbid) procedures.
So, here I am, four months past my “final sprint” to the finish line of life, with another two driving trips to Buffalo and Winston-Salem, and feeling pretty darned good for an old man of 70.
Heck, I already have plans to do another solo venture next summer, though it won’t be a far or as long as my “Don’t Fence Me In” sojourn. I don’t plan to climb any mountains in Michigan or Wisconsin, but I might climb some lighthouses, on the inside, of course.
There is a sad ending to my tale, however. My brother, Don, has been battling lung cancer for the past year. I received a phone call last Monday that he died peacefully in his sleep Sunday night.
Perhaps my premonition was not about me, but rather about my brother. It was fortunate that I was able to visit him twice in the past few months to say goodbye, but I will miss him terribly.
Saturday, October 17, 2009
Saturday, October 10, 2009
Superman in Metropolis
I believe you’ve all seen my photo journal of my recent trip through the Northwest. However, there were other photos and stories that I left for future columns. This is one of those columns.
On my way up to my starting point for my trip, I passed several places that I had seen before, and so I didn’t bother to stop and take pictures. There was one town that I had passed many times without getting off the interstate and going to see the main attraction there.
On my way home, I again passed the little town in southern Illinois named Metropolis. Now, any town with that name brings an image to most of us of the fictional character, Superman, who lived and worked in the equally fictitious city of Metropolis.
Who among us can forget how we watched and worshipped Superman in our youth? I will admit that I even tried to emulate the Man of Steel in my youth by becoming “Ken Kenmore” (the town I grew up in) and saving numerous damsels in distress in my imagination. I know, I was weird!
There is a water tower next to I-24 outside of Metropolis, IL, that promotes the Superman mystique by showing a huge painting of the hero and letting travelers know that his likeness is preserved in the form of a statue in the town square.
I took the bait and left I-24 for the center of Metropolis to see Superman. I wasn’t the only one to do so, either. There were several visitors in the square to see him.
Okay, I won’t keep you in suspense... Here is the Superman statue in his classic pose, with the inscription on the base, “Truth, Justice, The American Way.”
You can see the size of this statue by measuring it against the woman in the background. Also, notice the floodlights that illuminate Superman at night like a national shrine.
Across the street there is also some glitzy tourist stuff in and on what probably used to be a drug store, complete with a sidewalk photo stand with the bodies of Superman and Superwoman and appropriate notches where you can rest your chin to have your head superimposed on the torso for a photo op. In the center left of the picture you can see, painted on the brick wall, the famous phone booth, Clark Kent and Lois Lane.
If you’re ever in the vicinity of Paducah, Kentucky—the closest city of any size near Metropolis—take a half-hour to stop by and visit with Superman. It’s about as kitschy as you can get.
On my way up to my starting point for my trip, I passed several places that I had seen before, and so I didn’t bother to stop and take pictures. There was one town that I had passed many times without getting off the interstate and going to see the main attraction there.
On my way home, I again passed the little town in southern Illinois named Metropolis. Now, any town with that name brings an image to most of us of the fictional character, Superman, who lived and worked in the equally fictitious city of Metropolis.
Who among us can forget how we watched and worshipped Superman in our youth? I will admit that I even tried to emulate the Man of Steel in my youth by becoming “Ken Kenmore” (the town I grew up in) and saving numerous damsels in distress in my imagination. I know, I was weird!
There is a water tower next to I-24 outside of Metropolis, IL, that promotes the Superman mystique by showing a huge painting of the hero and letting travelers know that his likeness is preserved in the form of a statue in the town square.
I took the bait and left I-24 for the center of Metropolis to see Superman. I wasn’t the only one to do so, either. There were several visitors in the square to see him.
Okay, I won’t keep you in suspense... Here is the Superman statue in his classic pose, with the inscription on the base, “Truth, Justice, The American Way.”
You can see the size of this statue by measuring it against the woman in the background. Also, notice the floodlights that illuminate Superman at night like a national shrine.
Across the street there is also some glitzy tourist stuff in and on what probably used to be a drug store, complete with a sidewalk photo stand with the bodies of Superman and Superwoman and appropriate notches where you can rest your chin to have your head superimposed on the torso for a photo op. In the center left of the picture you can see, painted on the brick wall, the famous phone booth, Clark Kent and Lois Lane.
If you’re ever in the vicinity of Paducah, Kentucky—the closest city of any size near Metropolis—take a half-hour to stop by and visit with Superman. It’s about as kitschy as you can get.
Friday, October 2, 2009
You Cannot Unmake The Soup
The idea that we can go back to a world where nuclear fission and/or nuclear fusion do not exist is not just ridiculous; it is sublime! It is no more possible to unlearn the secrets of nuclear reactions than it is to mix ingredients together to prepare soup and then change your mind and separate all of the ingredients back into their component parts.
In short, you can’t unmake the soup, and you certainly cannot unlearn the science that we used to create and develop nuclear reactions.
Much like the well-used statement, “If you ban guns, the only people who will have guns are the criminals,” we can now correctly state, “If you ban nuclear weapons, the only people who will have nuclear weapons are the rogues who ignore the rules.” Unfortunately, there are a lot of criminals and rogues out there in the world.
You might consider our current bad guys, Osama Bin Laden, Hugo Chavez, Kim Il Jong, Mahmoud Ahmadinejad, Raul Castro, and a number of others, incapable of any threat to us in the nuclear arena. They don’t have the delivery systems, or so it seems, to place a nuke on our soil.
That may or may not be true, based on recent development and testing of intermediate-range missiles in both North Korea and Iran, but it isn’t really necessary to have intercontinental missiles in order to attack us. There are a number of scenarios that posit a nuclear attack without any sophisticated delivery at all.
We are at risk regardless of any diplomatic agreements to destroy and quit making nuclear weapons. If the technology is there—and it cannot be unlearned—then there will always be evil people who will use it to further their ends. They are not necessarily associated with any government, and are unanswerable for breaking any “treaty” with the rest of the world.
If President Obama gets his wish and is able to negotiate with the other nuclear powers to completely ban nuclear weapons—an impossibility from the get-go—I will give us about ten years maximum until we will have that dreaded nuclear war that we have deterred for over sixty years. It might signal the end of civilization as we know it.
Thank you, Mr. President. You are a true idealist, and I wanted to stop short of saying that idealists are fools, but then... I cannot unmake the soup either. So there, I’ve gone and made it official. I consider you a fool as well. And I truly hate to have to think that about our president, the most powerful man in the world. The seat of power is no place for a fool to sit.
In short, you can’t unmake the soup, and you certainly cannot unlearn the science that we used to create and develop nuclear reactions.
Much like the well-used statement, “If you ban guns, the only people who will have guns are the criminals,” we can now correctly state, “If you ban nuclear weapons, the only people who will have nuclear weapons are the rogues who ignore the rules.” Unfortunately, there are a lot of criminals and rogues out there in the world.
You might consider our current bad guys, Osama Bin Laden, Hugo Chavez, Kim Il Jong, Mahmoud Ahmadinejad, Raul Castro, and a number of others, incapable of any threat to us in the nuclear arena. They don’t have the delivery systems, or so it seems, to place a nuke on our soil.
That may or may not be true, based on recent development and testing of intermediate-range missiles in both North Korea and Iran, but it isn’t really necessary to have intercontinental missiles in order to attack us. There are a number of scenarios that posit a nuclear attack without any sophisticated delivery at all.
We are at risk regardless of any diplomatic agreements to destroy and quit making nuclear weapons. If the technology is there—and it cannot be unlearned—then there will always be evil people who will use it to further their ends. They are not necessarily associated with any government, and are unanswerable for breaking any “treaty” with the rest of the world.
If President Obama gets his wish and is able to negotiate with the other nuclear powers to completely ban nuclear weapons—an impossibility from the get-go—I will give us about ten years maximum until we will have that dreaded nuclear war that we have deterred for over sixty years. It might signal the end of civilization as we know it.
Thank you, Mr. President. You are a true idealist, and I wanted to stop short of saying that idealists are fools, but then... I cannot unmake the soup either. So there, I’ve gone and made it official. I consider you a fool as well. And I truly hate to have to think that about our president, the most powerful man in the world. The seat of power is no place for a fool to sit.
Saturday, September 26, 2009
Radio Blooper
This has been a very busy week for me. I sing in a barbershop chorus here in Augusta. We have a big show coming up this Saturday, and I have been doing a lot of the publicity for it.
If you opened the link I sent out Friday morning, you already know the story of the woman whose private telephone number was inadvertently printed on about 3,000 flyers for our upcoming show as the box office number for the theater where we are to perform. If not, here it is again: http://chronicle.augusta.com/stories/2009/09/25/met_549499.shtml That’s me on the left, the old guy with the gray hair, but at least I have some hair, unlike the other guys in the photo.
In addition to that publicity, I was called on to be the spokesman for the chorus on a local radio show. We had another quartet singing on that show, and the host asked me to introduce them prior to their performance of the songs. I started off okay, but when I got to the second fellow, Vern Lunsford, I drew a mental block and pronounced his name, Vern Lundquist.
That caused a lot of laughter in the studio, and also made my situation worse. I knew I had given the name wrong, (Verne Lundquist is a television sportscaster who broadcasts SEC college football games) but I couldn’t then think of our Vern’s last name. It was one of those moments of embarrassment that sometimes happen.
After Vern introduced himself, I was able to continue, and the next name (thank God) was George Brown. I needed an easy name at that point, and I got through the rest of the introduction without incident.
Someone taped the interview and the two songs for Southern Blend, the quartet that sang them, so I was able to listen to the whole thing later in the day. It all came out pretty darned good.
One thing that happened, probably because of nerves, was that I got a tickle in my throat just prior to going on air, so my voice came out sounding a little raspy. I was, in fact, one of those “gravel-voice” announcers I wrote about in last week’s column. That’ll teach me not to be critical of others.
If you opened the link I sent out Friday morning, you already know the story of the woman whose private telephone number was inadvertently printed on about 3,000 flyers for our upcoming show as the box office number for the theater where we are to perform. If not, here it is again: http://chronicle.augusta.com/stories/2009/09/25/met_549499.shtml That’s me on the left, the old guy with the gray hair, but at least I have some hair, unlike the other guys in the photo.
In addition to that publicity, I was called on to be the spokesman for the chorus on a local radio show. We had another quartet singing on that show, and the host asked me to introduce them prior to their performance of the songs. I started off okay, but when I got to the second fellow, Vern Lunsford, I drew a mental block and pronounced his name, Vern Lundquist.
That caused a lot of laughter in the studio, and also made my situation worse. I knew I had given the name wrong, (Verne Lundquist is a television sportscaster who broadcasts SEC college football games) but I couldn’t then think of our Vern’s last name. It was one of those moments of embarrassment that sometimes happen.
After Vern introduced himself, I was able to continue, and the next name (thank God) was George Brown. I needed an easy name at that point, and I got through the rest of the introduction without incident.
Someone taped the interview and the two songs for Southern Blend, the quartet that sang them, so I was able to listen to the whole thing later in the day. It all came out pretty darned good.
One thing that happened, probably because of nerves, was that I got a tickle in my throat just prior to going on air, so my voice came out sounding a little raspy. I was, in fact, one of those “gravel-voice” announcers I wrote about in last week’s column. That’ll teach me not to be critical of others.
Saturday, September 19, 2009
Speech-challenged speakers
I drove up to Winston-Salem last week to visit family. On the way home, I was listening to a local radio station in Greensboro, and there was a weatherman on the morning show. He gave the forecast, and it made me terribly uncomfortable.
Why? He had a rattle in his voice so pronounced that it sounded like maybe he was gargling and forgot to spit. His voice was annoying, and to make it worse, he repeated himself three times. You know how a comic singer does that underwater gargle while singing the lyrics? It was kind of like that, but it was only about once every three words.
I kept hoping he would at least clear his throat, even if he did it on air. That rattle was a real turn off.
We had a local weatherman (I guess we’re supposed to refer to them as meteorologists) who recently retired, and he also had an annoying voice. It was what I would call a gravel voice. Again, I was always wishing he would clear his throat. Apparently, he has a permanent raspy voice. Whew, it was a relief when he retired!
On a recent trip up through West Virginia, my wife and I listened to a local guy who did refer to himself as a meteorologist, except he couldn’t pronounce the word correctly. It came out as “meteorlologist,” or maybe it was “meteolrologist.” It was so funny that we laughed every time he said the word.
It occurs to me that we probably don’t even pay attention to the forecast when the person reading it has a speech impediment. The focus changes from the speech to the speaker when that is the case.
Is there some equal opportunity law that requires weather forecasters with less-than-perfect speech have to be given priority? There certainly seem to be a lot of them out there.
Come to think of it, has any weatherman ever been promoted to, or even substituted for one of the news anchors? I cannot recall a single instance when that has happened, but then, I can’t remember a sportscaster ever doing it either.
Maybe there is a difference in the type of person who does those broadcasting jobs, and they don’t want to fill the other guy’s (or gal’s) shoes. They are perfectly happy pointing at green walls or reading the sports scores. At least those speech-challenged weather and sports geeks don’t opine for us in addition to reading their scripts.
One other word—actually a letter—that seems to get mispronounced frequently is “W” in station call letters. The letter “w” sometimes gets a weird middle syllable, so that the letter comes out sounding like “doubwolyou.”
Do you notice these things too, or is it just me?
Why? He had a rattle in his voice so pronounced that it sounded like maybe he was gargling and forgot to spit. His voice was annoying, and to make it worse, he repeated himself three times. You know how a comic singer does that underwater gargle while singing the lyrics? It was kind of like that, but it was only about once every three words.
I kept hoping he would at least clear his throat, even if he did it on air. That rattle was a real turn off.
We had a local weatherman (I guess we’re supposed to refer to them as meteorologists) who recently retired, and he also had an annoying voice. It was what I would call a gravel voice. Again, I was always wishing he would clear his throat. Apparently, he has a permanent raspy voice. Whew, it was a relief when he retired!
On a recent trip up through West Virginia, my wife and I listened to a local guy who did refer to himself as a meteorologist, except he couldn’t pronounce the word correctly. It came out as “meteorlologist,” or maybe it was “meteolrologist.” It was so funny that we laughed every time he said the word.
It occurs to me that we probably don’t even pay attention to the forecast when the person reading it has a speech impediment. The focus changes from the speech to the speaker when that is the case.
Is there some equal opportunity law that requires weather forecasters with less-than-perfect speech have to be given priority? There certainly seem to be a lot of them out there.
Come to think of it, has any weatherman ever been promoted to, or even substituted for one of the news anchors? I cannot recall a single instance when that has happened, but then, I can’t remember a sportscaster ever doing it either.
Maybe there is a difference in the type of person who does those broadcasting jobs, and they don’t want to fill the other guy’s (or gal’s) shoes. They are perfectly happy pointing at green walls or reading the sports scores. At least those speech-challenged weather and sports geeks don’t opine for us in addition to reading their scripts.
One other word—actually a letter—that seems to get mispronounced frequently is “W” in station call letters. The letter “w” sometimes gets a weird middle syllable, so that the letter comes out sounding like “doubwolyou.”
Do you notice these things too, or is it just me?
Saturday, September 12, 2009
Posting Comments
Last week, I put out a call for all of you to respond ‘yes’ or ‘no’ as to whether you read my weekly columns. The response was, well, all positive. However, since there were no negative responses, and yet there were more recipients than responses, I don’t know what to make of that.
The responses I did get were enlightening, because many didn’t just follow my simple instructions to put ‘Yes’ or “No’ in the Subject Line, but also sent some feedback as to why they don’t place comments in the blog.
Those who did respond were overwhelming in their reluctance to set up a Google account in order to post comments in the blog. They felt it was a privacy issue.
I have toyed with the idea of writing a column devoted to the newest Internet phenomenon, “tweeting.”
There are apparently a lot of people who find it entertaining to post their personal information for all to see, either on Twitter, or Facebook, or My Space. I am not one of them, and it is precisely because it is a privacy issue with me.
I suppose that most of you are also of the same mind as I am about the aforementioned, shall we call them ‘sharing sites’? That must be why you also don’t have a Google account.
In order to set up my blog page for the weekly column, I had to open a Google account, and I have never been bothered by anyone because of it. I do maintain a profile on the blog site, but it is very ‘low profile’ and doesn’t expose any of my personal information that I prefer not to share.
Let’s face it, everything we share with others has to do with our own ego. That is the main reason I write the column every week. I don’t consider myself to be an ‘intellectual’ or an ‘expert’ on the subjects I write about.
It is interesting to place my opinions out there for debate and discussion. But I know that I’m not always right, and I welcome criticism as well as praise. I get both almost every week; it feeds my ego either way.
The problem is, if you don’t post on the blog, I am the only one who sees how you react to my columns. A lot of your comments are good. They add to the topic, and should be available to everyone who reads the column.
I’m considering the idea of posting comments from you—anonymously, of course—for others to see. That means you might want to go back a day or so later and read the comments as updates to the column.
Regarding those other online tools, Twitter, Facebook, etc., I guess it’s different strokes for different folks, but I don’t consider them a worthwhile exercise, and they definitely compromise you in some fashion.
Oh, and my poll... In the first 24 hours, I received 22 responses, all ‘Yes’, and that makes me feel great. See, it is all about ego!
The responses I did get were enlightening, because many didn’t just follow my simple instructions to put ‘Yes’ or “No’ in the Subject Line, but also sent some feedback as to why they don’t place comments in the blog.
Those who did respond were overwhelming in their reluctance to set up a Google account in order to post comments in the blog. They felt it was a privacy issue.
I have toyed with the idea of writing a column devoted to the newest Internet phenomenon, “tweeting.”
There are apparently a lot of people who find it entertaining to post their personal information for all to see, either on Twitter, or Facebook, or My Space. I am not one of them, and it is precisely because it is a privacy issue with me.
I suppose that most of you are also of the same mind as I am about the aforementioned, shall we call them ‘sharing sites’? That must be why you also don’t have a Google account.
In order to set up my blog page for the weekly column, I had to open a Google account, and I have never been bothered by anyone because of it. I do maintain a profile on the blog site, but it is very ‘low profile’ and doesn’t expose any of my personal information that I prefer not to share.
Let’s face it, everything we share with others has to do with our own ego. That is the main reason I write the column every week. I don’t consider myself to be an ‘intellectual’ or an ‘expert’ on the subjects I write about.
It is interesting to place my opinions out there for debate and discussion. But I know that I’m not always right, and I welcome criticism as well as praise. I get both almost every week; it feeds my ego either way.
The problem is, if you don’t post on the blog, I am the only one who sees how you react to my columns. A lot of your comments are good. They add to the topic, and should be available to everyone who reads the column.
I’m considering the idea of posting comments from you—anonymously, of course—for others to see. That means you might want to go back a day or so later and read the comments as updates to the column.
Regarding those other online tools, Twitter, Facebook, etc., I guess it’s different strokes for different folks, but I don’t consider them a worthwhile exercise, and they definitely compromise you in some fashion.
Oh, and my poll... In the first 24 hours, I received 22 responses, all ‘Yes’, and that makes me feel great. See, it is all about ego!
Saturday, September 5, 2009
The Wildfire Tragedy
The wildfires burning north of Los Angeles are truly a disaster. There have already been fatalities, with more possible, and the property loss is huge.
This isn’t even the height of the wildfire season, since the Santa Ana winds are not yet a factor. They are still to come in October, so this huge fire is being fueled without the usual winds that spread it.
The Southern California area has been under severe drought conditions for three years or more, so the underbrush is completely dry and just waiting for the spark to ignite it.
The question is, how could we prevent, or at least lessen the threat of wildfires in and around Los Angeles? After all, these fires are a perennial event, and they displace or harm thousands of people and their homes. It isn’t as though we couldn’t prepare and execute a plan of prevention.
On my recent trip through the American Northwest, I witnessed something that I never thought I would see. In the Black Hills forest of South Dakota, which I drove through extensively, I saw huge amounts of wood and other flammable debris stacked in conical piles. The ground around these tinder piles was clear and green with new grown grasses.
I’m not describing a small area that some local group of volunteers cleared, either. This was something I saw at every place I stopped, and all along the Iron Mountain road, which is about 25 miles in length. It appears that the entire area of Custer State Park was cleared, too.
It occurred to me that there must be a tremendous effort in the Black Hills to clear that flammable underbrush. It must have taken several hundred, even several thousand, people to do such a magnificent job. It reminded me of the pictures I recall of the Civilian Conservation Corps, the CCC, back in the Depression Era from 1933 to 1942.
With all of the current unemployment we are experiencing, and all of the stimulus money that is being thrown around, why wouldn’t it make perfect sense to ‘hire’ some of those people at a reasonable salary to clear forests in other parts of the country, and especially in those areas like Southern California?
Maybe it is too late for a lot of that forest, but there certainly must be a lot of trees out there that still could be saved by removing the undergrowth that fuels those huge and tragic wildfires.
In case you cannot believe that all that debris can be adequately cleared, here is one of the pictures I took in the Black Hills. Look closely and you’ll see that there are many piles back in the forest itself in addition to the four you see in the foreground.
I don’t know what the future plan for these conical piles is, but they could be removed pretty quickly in the event of a forest fire there. Since the picture was taken in the early summer, the tinder piles might have already been removed to a controlled burn area. It did look like a work in progress.
I am sending this column to my representative and both senators for their consideration. Maybe I’m a dreamer, but I don’t see much in the way of results from the stimulus infusion so far.
How about you? Will you copy and forward the column to your senators and House representative in Washington?
This isn’t even the height of the wildfire season, since the Santa Ana winds are not yet a factor. They are still to come in October, so this huge fire is being fueled without the usual winds that spread it.
The Southern California area has been under severe drought conditions for three years or more, so the underbrush is completely dry and just waiting for the spark to ignite it.
The question is, how could we prevent, or at least lessen the threat of wildfires in and around Los Angeles? After all, these fires are a perennial event, and they displace or harm thousands of people and their homes. It isn’t as though we couldn’t prepare and execute a plan of prevention.
On my recent trip through the American Northwest, I witnessed something that I never thought I would see. In the Black Hills forest of South Dakota, which I drove through extensively, I saw huge amounts of wood and other flammable debris stacked in conical piles. The ground around these tinder piles was clear and green with new grown grasses.
I’m not describing a small area that some local group of volunteers cleared, either. This was something I saw at every place I stopped, and all along the Iron Mountain road, which is about 25 miles in length. It appears that the entire area of Custer State Park was cleared, too.
It occurred to me that there must be a tremendous effort in the Black Hills to clear that flammable underbrush. It must have taken several hundred, even several thousand, people to do such a magnificent job. It reminded me of the pictures I recall of the Civilian Conservation Corps, the CCC, back in the Depression Era from 1933 to 1942.
With all of the current unemployment we are experiencing, and all of the stimulus money that is being thrown around, why wouldn’t it make perfect sense to ‘hire’ some of those people at a reasonable salary to clear forests in other parts of the country, and especially in those areas like Southern California?
Maybe it is too late for a lot of that forest, but there certainly must be a lot of trees out there that still could be saved by removing the undergrowth that fuels those huge and tragic wildfires.
In case you cannot believe that all that debris can be adequately cleared, here is one of the pictures I took in the Black Hills. Look closely and you’ll see that there are many piles back in the forest itself in addition to the four you see in the foreground.
I don’t know what the future plan for these conical piles is, but they could be removed pretty quickly in the event of a forest fire there. Since the picture was taken in the early summer, the tinder piles might have already been removed to a controlled burn area. It did look like a work in progress.
I am sending this column to my representative and both senators for their consideration. Maybe I’m a dreamer, but I don’t see much in the way of results from the stimulus infusion so far.
How about you? Will you copy and forward the column to your senators and House representative in Washington?
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