Hybrids and the Future of Motorcycles*

*Johnstown, PA Tribune-Democrat
April 17, 2011
 as "Raise a cheer for big electric bikes"

Copyright © 2011 by Ralph Couey

The concept by which your car’s engine works has been around, at least as an idea, for over 800 years.  The first concept of an internal combustion engine was done by a Mesopotamian named Al-Jazari in 1206.  The Chinese, Mongols, and Arabs developed a working model in the 13^th century.  Da Vinci produced a design in 1509.  In fact, there doesn’t seem to be a single inventor, but a long roster of contributing inventors and engineers.  But even with all the improvements, it’s still the same basic principal.

But now, in the 21^st century, the internal combustion engine is living on borrowed time.  Gas and diesel fuel are proving too vulnerable to political and environmental pressures that make its supply and price unstable.  There is also a question of how long the current reserves will last in the face of ever-rising demand.  In response to these conditions, electric vehicles are attempting to move to the mainstream. But high cost, limited range and the fact that electricity still flows mostly from coal-fired power plants still, in the minds of most consumers, make them novelty items.

Hybrids have been a good compromise, combining the emission-less value of electric motors with the range of a traditional engine.  This development is encouraging, although no one has yet given me a satisfactory answer to the question of what happens to the toxic battery packs after they wear out. 

True Human Diversity

Copyright © 1997 by Ralph Couey
except for quoted and cited passages.

Mark 13:36

Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself;

Matthew 26:36-41

 

And the King shall say unto them,

"Verily I say unto you,

inasmuch as ye have done it

unto one of the least of these my brethren,

ye have done it unto me.”

The duty of Christ’s disciples throughout history has never been an easy one. The challenges have been many and daunting. Even today, we, as disciples, face tremendous challenges in our efforts to minister to others. But it is the task that we have been assigned. We live in a world that is writhing in agony and pain. And just as a surgeon finds it difficult to perform an operation without a tray of specialized instruments, so does the Lord rely on us as his instruments for the healing of tortured lives. And it is incumbent upon us that we do not back away from that challenge.

I have heard that the simplest commands are often the most difficult to follow. Having been on both the giving and receiving end of orders in the Navy, I can attest to the truth of such a statement. God has given us a wealth of wisdom and instruction in scripture clearly stated without any interpretational confusion. The Ten Commandments are a good example. They’re all plainly stated. And yet, when we analyze the ills of humankind and the attendant misery brought upon all people, we see pretty much the same laundry list of sins and errors at the root of these problems.

Speech: "A People of Freedom and Destiny"

Copyright © 2003 by Ralph Couey

This is a very special night. We have all gathered here as one to welcome home America’s truest heroes. As special as this moment is for us, I know this moment is even more precious and priceless for you who have returned from the theater of war. For tonight, the stars shine in friendly skies; the wind blows gently down familiar streets; the sun has cast a familiar shadow upon the doorstep; and tonight, we who have stood safely behind the protective wall of your courageous service hold you in a warm, affectionate, and mutual embrace. Tonight we as a family, we as a community, we as a nation say to you: Welcome Home.

Tonight we also remember the fallen. For far too many families, there will be no joyous homecoming; only the memories of the loved and the lost. There are no possible words, no magic phrases that could possibly ease the pain they feel. For the husband or wife looking at a wedding ring through a veil of tears; for the parents who stand in the doorway of a silent, empty bedroom; for the child who struggles to understand why Daddy or Mommy aren’t coming home; for the friends, the co-workers, the neighbors who now feel that aching void in their lives; for all of them, we as a nation share this grief. In time, hopefully, understanding will come. Meaning will be revealed.

Never have the words of Abraham Lincoln been more poignant:

“That from these honored dead, we take increased devotion to that cause for which they gave the last full measure of devotion. That we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain.”

The Hardest Farewell**

Samantha

Copyright © 2007, 2011 by Ralph Couey
*Chicago Tribune
March 26, 2011
as "Loss of a true friend"

*Somerset, PA  Daily American
March 26, 2011
as "Loss of a true friend"

Ten years ago, we said goodbye to Samantha. 
It was a time of great sorrow for us,
as anyone who has ever loved and lost a pet can attest. 
This week, two friends had to say goodbye to their beloved pets,
and in sharing their sorrow, the memories of that day long ago came back. 
This is for all those who have everhad to say that hardest farewell.

The morning was bright and clear, but the sun mocked me as I finished my walk. This was a day heavy with decision; celebration had left for the next county. Opening the door, I heard you struggle to your feet to greet me like you always had. All those years, you met me with shining eyes, a happy tail, and a joyful bark. Now I saw the pain in your eyes as you tried to make arthritic bones obey the commands of your heart.

I took your beautiful head in my hands and buried my face in the softness of your fur. I sensed you contentment, but all last night I had heard whimpers of pain as you tried to sleep.

I took your brush out and one last time you stood patiently while I arranged every hair. At last, I finished my work.  For a moment, you looked as you once did; powerful, graceful, and heart-breakingly beautiful. Then with a quivering sigh your legs settled to the floor and you rested your head on my leg, exhausted by the effort.

I was flooded by sweet memories. Long walks, playing ball in the park, the drives through the country, watching you destroy my leaf piles in the fall while I collapse in helpless laughter. The simple companionship of a long winter’s eve.

It was time.

Motorcycles and the Statistics of Death**

*Chicago Tribune
April 15, 2011
as "Motorcycles and statistics"

*Somerset, PA  Daily American
April 16, 2011
as "Motorcycles and statistics"

Copyright © 2011 by Ralph Couey

Since my accident two years ago, my colleagues have taken a sincere interest in my safety. This past week, out of that concern, they deposited the latest edition of the Journal of Forensic Science on my desk. One might characterize this publication as the pinup magazine for Coroners.

Three articles were bookmarked. One was entitled, “Massive Lesions Owing to Motorcyclist Impact Against Guardrail Posts.” Another article was “Traumatic Testicular Displacement in Motorcycle Drivers.”

Ouch.

The third one, however, was the most interesting. “Death by Motorcycle: Background, Behavioral, and Situational Correlates of Fatal Motorcycle Collisions.” This was an impressive statistical study done by Dr. Samuel Nunn, Professor of the School of Public and Environmental Affairs and Director of the Center for Criminal Justice Research, part of the Indiana University-Purdue University of Indianapolis.

Like many professional journal articles, this one needed to be read with a dictionary and thesaurus close at hand. And while the science of statistics is still a bit of a mystery to me, there were enough plain-language findings in the paper to get my attention.

Fear Not!

Copyright © 2011 by Ralph Couey

Do not be afraid.

The Lord will fight for you;

You need only to be still. (Exodus 14:13a,14)

I’m a worrier.  I come by it honestly because my Dad was one as well.  I worry about the usual things, family, money, taxes, debt, job security…all shared by most, I would imagine.  But I also find myself at times in deep concern about things over which I have absolutely no control or influence.  The weather, for instance; or the political situation in Mexico.   Lately, I’ve been very worried about my job, even though the decisions made on that issue are well beyond my paygrade.  There’s absolutely nothing I can do to influence that process.  Yet, I still worry. 

Luckily, I’m married to a very practical person who files her concerns into two slots:  those she can control and those she can’t.  She works on the things she can, and ignores the rest.  When she spots me carrying some burden around, she immediately morphs into her best Gandalf imitation, thundering, “Where is your faith?”

And she’s right.

General Ulysses S. Grant had a similar issue when he took command of the Army of the Potomac.  Robert E. Lee had acquired a reputation of invincibility.  Despite the southern Army of Northern Virginia being outnumbered in almost every battle, Lee’s tactical genius produced stunning victories. 

One night, after listening to his staff voice their fears, Grant roared, “I’m getting tired of hearing about all the possible things Lee could do to this Army.  From now on, we’re only going to focus on what this Army is going to do to General Lee.”

"C'mon, Spring!"

Copyright © 2011 by Ralph Couey

This is a tough time of year for a motorcyclist.  Winter has been long and unrelenting.  Even today, approaching mid-March, as I look outside, the hill a half-mile away has gone opaque, shrouded in yet one more snowstorm.  Below my window, the Little Conemaugh River runs deep and rapid, fed by the almost constant rainfall and melting snow.  I am anxiously, even impatiently waiting for the wintry mess to give way to clear skies and relatively warmer temperatures.  Out in the garage, my bike sits.  I sense Wyatt is also feeling frustrated.  I can almost hear him whisper an exasperated “C’mon, man!”

But these are feelings grown familiar.  They happen every year about this time, especially since I moved from Missouri to the Laurel Highlands of Pennsylvania almost seven years ago.  In my memory, I remember March as the start of the riding season.  Temperatures were still on the cool side, but snow and ice had become a forgotten memory.  Here in the mountains, however, climate plots against me.  Every year, the last time snow fell from the sky was as late as mid-May.  The riding season is short, but tempered by the almost complete lack of uncomfortably hot days. 

Over the winter, I bought a new tire, a new crash bar, a new luggage rack, a new stator, and had my seat sent out to be re-done.  The Kawasaki VN900 is a marvelous machine.  It is a mid-size bike that comes off looking much bigger than it actually is.  Obviously, some skilled and experienced engineers were involved in its concept and design. 

I just wish they hadn’t given the seat design to the intern.

History's Harsh Lessons*

*Pittsburgh, PA Post-Gazette
April 3, 2011
as "Lessons from the depression"

Copyright © 2011 by Ralph Couey

On March 8^th, Pennsylvania’s newly-minted Governor stood in front of the State Assembly to present his proposal for a state budget.  Like many states, Pennsylvania has spent itself almost to the brink of insolvency.  And like so many of us in this recession, it became time for cuts and reductions.  The Governor said something that, as a Pennsylvanian, I found compelling:

“A nation that once produced wealth beyond calculation

has now produced debt beyond reckoning.

The day of reckoning has come.”

In listening to the rhetoric of the past few months, an interesting dichotomy has emerged.  It seems that while everyone realizes that sacrifices must be made, we all seem to think that someone else should bear that burden.

This is the myopia of hard times.  The boil on our own back is the largest one in existence; nobody’s pain is worse than our own.  There’s always someone else who can afford to do with less.

Many of us grew up during the wildly materialistic 1980s and 1990s.  Due to that cultural conditioning, we find it hard now to separate true need from want.  Cable/satellite TV, broadband Internet, Smart Phones, and other expensive electronics are just a few of those things that not too long ago would have been considered luxury items.  Now, we have a lot of trouble even imagining life without them.  We felt that even if we weren’t rich, we could at least acquire some of those trappings, thereby building insulating barriers between the life we wanted, and the one we actually had.  This act of reaching beyond our means has left many of us in serious credit trouble, a hole it may take years to climb from.

82 years ago, the country was plunged into the depths of what became known as The Great Depression.  Wall Street collapsed, in part because people were trading with credit instead of hard currency.  Businesses closed, banks failed and almost overnight a quarter of the workforce was unemployed. 

My Lap-Band Life: Two Months In

Copyright © 2011 by Ralph Couey

This past month has been a revelation for me, in terms of understanding what my relationship to food has been over my lifetime.

First things first, however.  I feel fine.  There have been no incidents of pain or discomfort.  I’m perfectly happy with the small ration of food I consume, and I feel better than I have for years.

My weight loss has slowed, in fact I’ve been stuck at 258 for two weeks.  The Doctor’s office tells me that this is not unusual and not to get discouraged.  I have to remember how far I’ve come since January.  Before my pre-op diet, I had ballooned to 298, so I’ve lost 40 pounds in a little over two months.  Meanwhile, I’ve picked up my exercise considerably.  I walk for 30 minutes at lunch (1.8 miles) and then do some calisthenics and 50 minutes on a treadmill at 5% grade and 3.7 to 4.0 miles per hour after work.  I have my semi-annual cardiac stress test in April, so I guess you could say I’m studying for that test.  I got a little too ambitious, borrowing my son’s P90X DVD set.  This is a fitness regimen that makes Marine Corps boot camp look easy.  Anyway, three nights into it, I did some damage to my left shoulder.  At some point when I work up the courage (and the pain becomes too much to ignore) I’ll confess to the Doctor.  Hopefully, it’s something that time will heal.  I’ve cut back on the P90X stuff, doing only those things that don’t involve my left shoulder.

Revolution and the Beard*

*Johnstown, PA Tribune-Democrat
March 21, 2011
as "Life without wife soon grows into hairy experience"

Copyright © 2011 by Ralph Couey

For most of a man’s married life, he exists in a happy state of domestication.  He may at times wax nostalgic about those early years when was led around by his hormones and a nose for mischief, and there might be one or two attempts to re-enact those years.  But for the most part, men willingly accept the structures and limits of matrimony because we realize that the “other” reason we get married is that we need someone around to keep us out of trouble.

There are times, however when we might stage a minor revolution, for no other reason than impulse.  One of those revolts involves facial hair.

Two things spawned my little insurrection.  My wife was out of town on a job search expedition and I had entertained the idea going shaveless.  But the decision point was reached when I stood in the shaving aisle at the store and saw that my blades would cost over $30.  I could have just bought disposables but I have a bad combination of sensitive skin and tough whiskers.  The wrong blade can leave me looking like the scarred victim of a shattered window in the morning or a swarthy underworld thug by 3 in the afternoon.

So squeezed by economics and lacking anyone to say “no,” I decided to grow a beard.

My wife was not thrilled by this decision, but as she put it, “As long as I don’t have to look at it, I guess it’s okay.”

Growing a beard is a gradual process.  You simply can’t go from bare-faced to Santa Claus overnight.  The first few days, it looks like you were too lazy to shave.  It’s not uniform and the bristles stick out at weird angles.  After about a week, you don’t look lazy anymore.  Something’s definitely happening.  Unfortunately it’s during this phase that people at work start with the snide comments, like, “How long were you lost up in the mountains?” 

Vaya con Dios, Zoe

On April 2, 2010, our precious granddaughter, Zoe Arianny Villon, passed from this life at the tender age of 5 months.  In her brief time with us, she had been burdened with some serious health problems, the worst of which was Cri du Chat syndrome.  I performed the funeral service, simply the most difficult thing I have ever done as a minister. 

In the months since, I have come to know many who also lost children.  We have shared the pain of loss and the tears of healing.  I offer this, the funeral sermon I prepared and delivered that day, as an offering of healing peace and solace to those are similarly suffering.


During the past few days as each of us considered the tragic and untimely death of baby Zoe, our hearts have been full of questions – chief amongst them being the simplest one, “Why?” Even if we knew the answers to those questions, there still would be no adequate explanation for this loss. Our hearts are grieved beyond measure.

We are not here today to answer those questions, even if we could. Rather, we are here to mourn and to commend the spirit of Zoe into God’s loving embrace. And also to ask God to help us heal.

Those of us who tend gardens are familiar with the occasional rose that may bud but never bloom. The flower isn’t any different than the others, but for some reason we can never fathom, rather than bursting forth in beauty and color, it simply fades away.

In the garden that is humanity, this also happens. A baby comes into the world, full of life and beauty, but never unfolds into the life that was supposed to be. We mourn those times, but at the same time we know that the baby’s soul has been gathered back into the arms of Jesus, where love, joy, justice, and perfection awaits.

Today, we mourn the loss of a child. We weep, just as Jesus wept. And yet, I have seen already the work of God’s healing spirit. In one of our many conversations, Nikki said to me of Zoe’s passing, “Jesus came in the middle of the night when she was at peace and took her home.” It was the most courageous, most faithful statement I have ever heard.

Three Important Quotes

Three quotes upon which anyone could build the best kind of life.

The life that conquers is the life that moves
with a steady resolution and persistence

toward a predetermined goal.

Those who succeed are those who have thoroughly learned

the immense importance of plan in life, and the tragic brevity of time.

- W.J. Davison

So, then, to every man his chance --
to every man, regardless of his birth,

his shining golden opportunity
-- to every man his right to live, to work, to be himself,

to become whatever his manhood
and his vision can combine to make him

-- this is the promise of America.

- Thomas Wolfe

When one door of happiness closes, another opens;

but often we look so long at the closed door

that we do not see the one which has been opened for us.

- Helen Keller

The Civil War: March 1861

A new government takes shape in the south.  In Washington, a new President assumes office over a decidedly less-than-United States of America

On March 1, 1861 P. G. T. Beauregard appointed Brigadier General in the Confederate States Army and was sent immediately to Charleston, SC.  General Beauregard would eventually carry the attack on Ft. Sumter in April, starting the Civil War.

On that same day, 1861 Texas was accepted as a state by the provisional government of the Confederate States of America.  The next day, the Texas Secessionist Convention reconvened, where on March 5^th, the Convention accepted Confederate Statehood.  Also on March 1st, the U.S. Congress would reject the proposals put forth by the Washington Peace Convention.

The next day, March 2, the U. S. Congress passes a proposed 13th Amendment stating that the Congress will not abolish or interfere with slavery where it exists. The amendment would never be ratified. 

General P. G. T. Beauregard arrives at Charleston on March 3rd and assumed command of Confederate troops South Carolina

On March 4, 1861 Confederate Convention in Montgomery adopted the "Stars and Bars" as the new nation's flag. The flag was introduced to the public the next day. 

Under heavy security on March 4, 1861 Abraham Lincoln is inaugurated President of the United States, already smaller by seven seceded states.  In his inaugural address, he says…

The Bell That Tolls for Us*

*Johnstown, PA Tribune-Democrat
March 6, 2011
as "Disaster at our doorstep"

Copyright © 2011 by Ralph Couey

(Except the Dunne quotes)

“No man is an island, entire of itself;

every man is a piece of the continent, a part of the main.

If a clod be washed away by the sea, Europe is the less.

Any man's death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind,

and therefore never send to know for whom the bells tolls;

it tolls for thee.”

--John Dunne, from “Contemplation XVII”

We live in a world filled with troubles, great and small. It is a measure of this world’s difficulties that even the great tragedies, ones that use to be insulated from us by distance or borders, now reach out to each and every one of us. 

Economic and business news, what once seemed so incredibly boring, now has a primacy that captures our attention and drives our worries as much as if it was a storm and we were in a small boat far out to sea. The vagaries of politics and the complexities of policy debate we now follow with rapt attention. 

Perhaps this is the most telling influence of the information age. No longer will there be a comfortable delay between event and effect. As things happen in countries far away, we will feel the results locally with a rapidity that will take our breath away. Unfortunately, this is not a passing phenomenon, but a new template, one that will define our future as individuals, and as the human species. 

In recent weeks, a number of countries in the Middle East have been experiencing unrest that in some cases may be the onset of revolution. In the not-too-distant past, that would have been interesting news, but not something that would have caused most of us any worry. We actually might have privately cheered for people who were attempting to throw off the yoke of tyranny.  

How things have changed. 

Speech: "Today, We Remember"

Copyright © 2009 by Ralph Couey

“Today, We Remember”

Ten years ago today, the world was changed; our nation was changed; we were changed.  We were ripped from a world of the safe and familiar and plunged into another; a world of dark uncertainty; a world of shock, pain, horror…and fear.  

But out of the darkness of that tragic day, a great light emerged, illuminating this nation from border to border and sea to sea.  We, the people of the United States found our unity.  We stood together; shoulder to shoulder; arm in arm.  We spoke with one voice. 

We felt with one heart. 

And the world stood back in awe.

Today, we remember. 

We remember the shock, the sorrow, and yes, the anger we felt that morning.

But we also remember how we reached out to each other and found comfort, discovering that in the face of shared tragedy, there is no such word as “stranger.”  On 9/11, we Americans proved that we were still “family.”

Today we gather upon this field of honor. 

Red-Light Purgatory**

*Chicago Tribune
March 4, 2011
as "Purgatory and the dead red light"

*Somerset, PA Daily American
March 5, 2011
as "Purgatory and the dead red light"

Copyright © 2011 by Ralph Couey

When one reads about “Dead Red” laws, the image conjured up is of some draconian McCarthy-esque measure from the 1950’s. Actually, it has nothing to do with politics.

Every motorcyclist and bicyclist is familiar with the frustration of pulling up to and intersection and watching the lights go through 2 or 3 cycles without getting the green. This problem has been the subject of increasingly vociferous lobbying from riders.

Some intersections don’t have automatically sequenced lights. They’re triggered by sensors buried in the roadway. These sensors don’t rely on weight, but mass. As a large metal object, like a car or truck, rolls up, the steel creates a “bubble” in the ambient magnetic field. This bubble is detected by the sensors which then trigger the lights. The Navy uses this method, called "Magnetic Anomaly Detection," to locate submerged submarines. These devices have to be calibrated, but the vehicle used is usually the 10-ton truck the road crews work out of. In terms of magnetic mass, that’s a far cry from even the largest motorcycle. Consequently, the rider sits at the intersection…and sits…and sits…and sits…well, you get the idea.

Some states have laws that permit the rider to run the red light after a reasonable amount of time, provided the traffic is clear. I know that Missouri has such a law, and the Kansas House has passed and sent to the Senate a similar bill. The Georgia legislature is about to consider such a law.  Pennsylvania, however, does not.

Last fall, I came afoul of that lack in Somerset.

Bless Them All

Copyright © 2011 by Ralph Couey

Flags lined the streets, some posted on flagpoles, others held by people.  After the flag-draped casket left the church, it passed between double lines of what seemed to be most of the population of Ebensburg, Pennsylvania.  Two ranks of men from the Veterans of Foreign Wars escorted the hearse through the streets.  County officials, police officers, volunteers from the Patriot Guard, and a U.S. Congressman watched as a patriot came home for the last time.

Derek Kozorosky died in uniform at the tender age of 22, a Senior Airman in the U.S. Air Force.  No, he hadn’t lost his life in Afghanistan or Iraq, but he had made the choice to serve his country and the cause of freedom.  And in my book, that’s still a hero.

The Thaw Ride**

*Chicago Tribune
March 18, 2011
as "Start out slow this spring"

*Somerset Daily American
March 19, 2011
as "Start out slow this spring"

Copyright © 2011 by Ralph Couey

As February turns into March, warmer weather will begin to spread northward.  Eventually even in the arctic-like north and northeast, the snow will melt, the roads will clear, and motorcyclists will take to the road in glee to start another riding season.

But in some parts of the nation, winter still grimly hangs on.  In those areas, however, riders will be teased by the appearance of a day or two of relatively warm weather and sun.  On those days, it is hard to resist the temptation to take the bike out for a spin. 

But there are still dangers out there.

Roads are still covered with salt, sand, and whatever else the DOT uses when the snow falls.  For a motorcycle, a road surface like that can be similar to riding on a bed of ball bearings.  Traction and control is decidedly iffy, not helped by the water left by melting snow.  Also, there are still shaded places where patches of ice remain.

A February Gift

Copyright © 2011 by Ralph Couey

Winter is the longest season. At least it feels that way. The cold temperatures drive us indoors. The long hours of darkness saps our energy. The deep snow turns a simple trip to the grocery store into a major undertaking. Towards mid-February, we are worn down, and frustrated.
But once in awhile, nature seems to sense our dark mood and sends us a gift. The winds shift to the south, the clouds break, and the thermometer rises to its highest point in months. It’s not a surprise; after all, Jim, Tim, and Tony have been talking about it for at least a week. But after endless cold and incessant snow, cynicism dies hard.

We wake up, instantly aware that the house seems warmer. As we eat breakfast, the sky is lighter. Actually, the days have been getting longer since December 21st, but somehow it’s evaded our notice.

The first moment of hope arrives when we step outside. The air, while still cold lacks its usual bite. Maybe we even go back inside and swap out the arctic gear for something lighter.

At work, everyone’s mood seems unaccountably brighter. Smiles bloom unbidden. The brittle acrimony seems to have been shelved, at least for now. Even customers seem to bring a little sunshine in with them.

All morning long, the sunlight beckons through the windows, teasing and seducing. When lunch time comes, we grab our brown bag and head for the park. Stepping outside, we feel it immediately. The air is soft, and for the first time in months, we feel on our shoulders the healing warmth of the sun.

That Bull Moose in the White House

Copyright © 2011 by Ralph Couey

Theodore Roosevelt was born in 1858, a sickly child, suffering from asthma and other ailments.  But rather than give in to his condition, he embarked on a life of vigorous robustness.

At Harvard, he was active in rowing and boxing. Upon graduating, he was given a physical exam, revealing a serious heart condition.  The doctor recommended he find a desk job.  Instead, he entered Columbia Law School.  A year later, he dropped out to run for New York Assemblyman.  His first book, a study of the Naval war of 1812, was published soon after his graduation and became a standard text throughout the Navy.

By 1884, he was already a major player in New York Republican circles.  But disillusioned by the exigencies of politics, he “retired” to a ranch he had built in Dakota Territory.  He hunted and raised cattle, writing about his activities for eastern newspapers.  As the deputy sheriff, he once escorted a group of thieves through the wilderness, going without sleep for almost two days.  Returning to New York after losing his cattle in the harsh winter of 1886-87, he ran for mayor of New York City, coming in third.  Roosevelt was appointed to the U.S. Civil Service Commission where he successfully fought the entrenched spoils system, forcing compliance with the Civil Service laws. 

In 1895, he took on another tough task.  As New York City’s Police Commissioner, he cleaned up the NYPD, reputed to be the most corrupt in America.  He was appointed Assistant Secretary of the Navy in the McKinley administration, taking de facto control due to the inactivity of the Secretary.  He was instrumental in preparing the Navy for the Spanish-American War and also laid the groundwork for the globe-circling “Great White Fleet” of his own administration.

Natalie Munroe and the Larger Question

Copyright © 2011 by Ralph Couey

Three days ago, nobody knew Natalie Munroe.  Now to many, she’s famous – or infamous.  For those who may have been living beneath the sea, Natalie is a teacher.  At one point in her life, she, like so many of us, felt the urge to write and authored a blog. 

Now, a blog can be many things, depending on one’s interests.  For many, it’s a living bulletin board.  Others, the chaotic canvas of random thoughts.  Some people blog about their interests, be it music, books, geology, or whatever they find interesting.  A lot of people, like me, blog about life and the musings thereof.

A blog is a contradiction.  It’s a private space for private thoughts that is also exposed to the universe. While we value our privacy, we love to see that visit counter go up. 

Natalie, responding to some of the utter ridiculousness of the education bureaucracy, wrote a post about grade cards.  In it, she complained about the “canned comments” that the administration urged teachers to use in describing the characteristics of a particular student.  These comments are familiar to anyone who has survived public school, things like “participates in class,” and “needs to work towards potential,” and other statements that achieve the lofty goal of saying absolutely nothing of value.

My Lap Band Life - One Month In

Copyright © 2011 words only by Ralph Couey

A month ago today, I was wheeled into an operating room at Windber Medical Center in Pennsylvania.  About 40 minutes later, I came out, my life changed forever. 

I have always struggled with my weight, essentially since the age of 8.  This is something that seems to run in the family, since I’ve seen pictures of my ancestors from the depression, a solid working class clan, who wore bellies even in the midst of the worst economic disaster in our history. 

Over the years, I began to suffer from the inevitable physical consequences of obesity, including diabetes, bad joints, and heart problems.  I didn’t take retirement seriously because, frankly, I didn’t think I’d live that long.  Finally, after two heart incidents within 10 months, my wife and I decided it was time for some drastic alternatives.

In January 2010, after experiencing chest pain on the way to work, I was taken to the hospital where I received my third cardiac stent (the first two in 2003).  In March, my wife, a Registered Nurse with 30 years surgical experience, brought home some literature on a procedure called a lap band.  I was skeptical, but the stent thing had scared me pretty badly and I was ready to listen.  We went to a seminar for prospective patients put on by Dr. Kim Marley. 

The information provided was a revelation.  In 2002, I almost had a full gastric bypass done.  The operation was derailed when the insurance company pulled the authorization literally as we were on our way to the hospital.  But this was different.  A gastric bypass is a permanent thing, routing the intestine from the bottom of the stomach to a new pouch created at the bottom of the esophagus.  The lap band, conversely, is an adjustable and reversible  device, the size of which is controlled by injecting or withdrawing saline through a port attached to the inside of the patient’s skin.  Being far less complex, recovery time was relatively fast.

The program is structured such that a period of 6 months passes between the time you agree to the procedure and when it is actually done.  This is to allow time for testing and evaluation, dietetic, physical, as well as psychological counseling, giving the patient plenty of time to think.

I was still on the fence, but a second heart incident in October suddenly made the decision a no-brainer.

"Riders in the Storm"

Copyright © 2011 by Ralph Couey

Motorcyclists of all stripes look forward with great anticipation to the end of winter and the return of sunshine, warm weather, and clear roads.  Spring can be a glorious time to ride, but changing weather patterns can develop dangerous conditions.

Spring in the Midwest and high plains is a time when war breaks out between warm, moist air surging up from the Gulf of Mexico and cold, dry air making its stubborn retreat into Canada. The resulting battleground can generate strong to severe thunderstorms, some of which may spawn tornadoes.

There are different types of thunderstorms, and it’s important to know the difference.  There are isolated storms, the ones meteorologists like to call “garden variety” or “pop-up” that develop, rain themselves out and dissipate over a couple of hours or less.  The hazards of these storms are torrential rainfall, extremely limited visibility, strong wind gusts, and lightning. Most riders are familiar with these, a regular encounter on afternoon rides.  Probably the biggest danger is the heavy rain, which can induce hydroplaning, a wave of water that builds up at the front of your tires that can actually lift the bike off the road’s surface, sending the machine skidding across the asphalt.  Don’t think for one moment that rubber tires protect you from lightning strikes.  It has happened, last year in Kentucky for example.  Also, the heavy raid restricts visibility for drivers as well.  We know how hard it is for them to see us on a good day.  In a downpour, trying to peer through a windshield and wipers, it’s even more difficult.  Since these storms are isolated, i.e. fairly small in footprint, the best thing is simply to pull off and wait for them to pass, or change your route to go around them. 

A severe thunderstorm is characterized by the National Weather Service as one with 58-mph wind gusts and at least 3/4-inch hail.  I’ve been caught in two hailstorms in my riding career, and I wore those bruises for a long time.  But hail in these storms can range up to the size of golf balls or larger.  These are life-threatening, and no place for a motorcycle. 

Civil War Events: February 1861, the CSA becomes a reality

Copyright © 2011 by Ralph Couey

By February 1861, although no shots had yet been fired, both sides were marching inexorably towards war. The most important events revolved around the formal organization of the Confederate States of America and the approaching inauguration of Abraham Lincoln. For the first time in history, two separate sovereign nations occupied America.

On February 1, the secessionist convention in Texas voted 166 to 7 to secede, calling for a ratification election by the people of Texas. The next day, Texas adopted a Declaration of Causes, a document that specified the reasons that Texas would secede.

On February 4, representatives of 22 states gathered in Washington in a last ditch effort to halt the division. The effort failed. On that same day, the Convention of Seceded States met in Montgomery, Alabama. Four days later, the convention adopted a provisional constitution which officially formed the Confederate States of America. This new constitution gave the individual states more autonomy. On the 9th, Jefferson Davis was elected as the President of the CSA.

On February 5, responding to a demand from South Carolina that Fort Sumter be surrendered, the Buchanan administration announced that the fort would remain in Federal hands.

On February 9, Tennessee voters rejected secession by some 9,000 votes.

On February 11, President-elect Abraham Lincoln boarded a train in Springfield, Illinois on his journey to Washington for his inauguration. In the capitol city, the federal army manned the streets to maintain order as the Electoral College met and confirmed Lincoln’s election victory. On that same day, Jefferson Davis boarded another train in Vicksburg, Mississippi bound for Montgomery, Alabama, the first CSA capitol, for his inauguration.

Columnists: Reaching Out

Copyright © 2011 by Ralph Couey

As a columnist, I identify with that larger community identified by National Society of Newspaper Columnists President Ben Pollock as, “…feature and metro, humor and kitchen-table writers.” I have to admit that for me, it's a comfortable zone.

My degree is in Political Science, although I’m far more fascinated by political processes than political issues. When I first started my columnistic gigs 6 years ago, I began by writing some pretty pointed pieces. While they were "satisfyin’ writin’" in a visceral sort of way, the reactions were disturbing. It must be a fundamental law of the universe that people who agree with you will never write, while those who disagree will do nothing but. I never received a death threat, but the tone and tenor of those responses nevertheless left me reluctant to walk the streets at night.

I fully understand that there are those who thrive on controversy. They seek to provoke and rile. As one fellow said to me, “Of course I get them angry. Anger is readership.” This kind of issue baiting and audience manipulation I found disturbing, though not as disturbing as watching otherwise intelligent readers who didn't know they were being led around by their spleens.

The sad thing is, that’s what the climate has wrought. There are folks out there on both sides who are making large sums of money by getting and keeping people angry. Call me wimpy, if you must. But I figure that it is better to write of those things that unite us, rather than those which divide us.

Love: The Power and the Joy**

Copyright © 2011 by Ralph Couey

*Chicago Tribune
February 11, 2011
as "Love: the power and the joy"

*Somerset Daily American
February 12, 2011
as "Love: the power and the joy"

Of all the memories that crowd our minds, there’s not one clearer or more arresting than that moment that we saw The One; that single human out of six billion that would turn us on our emotional ears, and change our lives forever.

It might have been in the house next door, in a park, on a bus, or across a crowded room.  Maybe our ears heard an endearing laugh; that one voice out of many, a sound that went straight to our heart.  For me, it was the distant sight of a dark-haired goddess across 32 lanes of a bowling alley. 

But wherever and whenever that moment occurred, we remember how it rocked us to our very soul.  It is a memory we will take to our graves.

Love is a hard thing to figure.  It strikes, often without warning, lancing through our emotional defenses to that secret place within that we share with no one else.  We know how it feels, but to try to pin down an actual definition is a goal that has eluded the passionate efforts of the best writers, poets, and minstrels.

Love inspires tremendous outbursts of written eloquence; words of power and knee-weakening emotion.  Yet in its presence we are rendered helpless, tongue-tied, brain-frozen and left feeling supremely foolish. Our thoughts are forever altered.  We cannot concentrate; sometimes finding that our gaze has fixed on some unseen point of focus while wearing a gentle smile of sweet remembrance.

Becoming a Great Teacher*

Copyright © 2011 by Ralph Couey

*Johnstown Tribune-Democrat
February 13, 2011
as "Reaching for greatness"

Our middle daughter, Crystal,  is approaching a milestone.  In May, she’ll graduate from the University of Colorado-Denver with her teaching degree. 

She has always had a strong interest in math.  She was once an Electrical Engineering major until she hit a brick wall called “differential equations.”  It’s always bothered her that females are vastly underrepresented, not just in the professional field of mathematics, but through their participation in this subject in middle, junior, and senior high school classrooms.  Her mission is to make math cool for girls, convincing them that there’s no such thing as a “non-traditional field.”

A month or so ago, she sent out an email to a lot of people.  In it, she asked what they thought the characteristics were of a great teacher.  Note that she didn’t ask about an “average” teacher; or even a “good” teacher.  She wants to be a “great” teacher.  Mediocrity has, in many ways, become the standard, and not just in education.  Do just enough to blend in; don't stick your neck out.  For a teacher, especially, to adopt excellence as their standard is the kind of thing that changes lives in the classroom.

She got a lot of good answers back.  Several advised her to get to know her students as individuals, identifying their individual learning styles and tailoring her delivery thus.  She was advised to be humble, personable, even-tempered, and communicative; to not be afraid to show humor and have fun. 

Optimism and Lighting the Corner of the World**

*Chicago Tribune
February 25, 2011
as "Make a difference"

*Somerset, PA Daily American
February 26, 2011
as "Make a difference"

Copyright © 2011 by Ralph Couey

Bookstores a full of them; infomercials fill the airwaves hawking them. All around us we hear the shouted mantra “Improve Your Life! We become so obsessed with fixing our flaws, we forget that even we can do good things.

It seems the only things we can think about are what we’ve done wrong. People are far from perfect. We are all human, and mistakes seem to be what we do best. But focusing solely on that aspect seems to me to be a little too cynical.

We seem to swim in a sea of sadness. The news that is reported to us is nearly all bad. Newscasters and pundits talk in terms apocalyptic; every cause will result in complete destruction. All around are wars and rumors of wars. Economies are struggling to survive, even in countries that were seen as invincible. I’m not saying we shouldn’t pay attention. This is, after all, a world rife with violence, injustice, pain and misery. But it is also a place where millions of acts of kindness occur each day, and rarely make the news.

Whether we want to admit it or not, all of us do a tremendous amount of good each year. We all have friends that like us, family that loves us. There are people who have come to depend on us, because when the chips were down for them, we stepped up to help. Perhaps we’re too afraid to think about it out of the fear of being too proud. Humility is a fine thing, yes. But when a person does a good thing, that’s something that needs to be celebrated.

Tech and the Effect on the Human Experience**

Copyright © 2011 by Ralph Couey

Facts and research © 2009 by Karl Fisch and Dr. Scott McCleod

*Chicago Tribune
February 4, 2011
as "Tech and the human experience"

*Somerset, PA Daily American
February 5, 2010
as "Tech and the human experience"

That the world is accelerating is knowledge that surprises almost no one.  Yet, when one considers the facts in detail, the results are astonishing.

In 2006, two educators, Karl Fisch and Dr. Scott McCleod produced a video entitled, “Did You Know?”  The video, backed  by a driving, booming soundtrack reels off a number of factoids about the exponential increase in the power of technology and the effects on the human race.  They have since produced four updates, all available on YouTube. 

Reading these facts, I was stunned.  A long-time devotee of Alvin Toffler’s “Future Shock,” I’ve always known that humans were racing forward, but I was not prepared for how far or how fast.

Consider this:   China will soon become the world’s number one English-speaking country.

Another shocker: The 25% of India’s population with the highest I.Q.’s is larger than the entire population of the United States. 

Business is also changing rapidly.  The top ten jobs in demand in 2010 didn’t exist in 2004.  For the students training for those jobs, information is changing so rapidly that Fisch and McCleod estimate that what university students learn during their freshman year will be outmoded by the time they’re juniors. 

Kindling the Future*

Copyright © 2011 by Ralph Couey

*Johnstown Tribune-Democrat
February 6, 2010
as "Taking digital for a test-read"

In recent years, we’ve seen the beginnings of the next big tech turning point. Digital readers have passed the novelty stage and have gone fully mainstream. Amazon’s Kindle, Apple’s iPad, the Nook from Barnes & Noble, and the Sony Reader are the big players that have hit the marketplace. And the shift from analog to digital marches on.

Star Trek fans recognize the genesis of these devices. In the 1980s “Next Generation” series, the Enterprise crew carried around a small flat device called a PADD (Personal Access Display Device). This gadget not only carried documents, but had fulltime wireless access to the ship’s computer. Nowadays, you don’t have to join Starfleet to own a similar device. The nearest Wal-Mart will suffice.

I bought my wife a Kindle for Christmas, and have watched as she has begun to download and read ebooks. For once in our lives, she has taken a tech step ahead of me. While I readily see the advantage of ebook readers, I’m still bound to tradition as far as books are concerned. I love the smell of the paper, glue, and ink; the feel of the binding and the cover. And that moment when I open a new book for the first time, then settling back in the cushions for an afternoon spent in another world.

In some respects, I’m kind of old-fashioned.  However, I don’t think of myself as a curmudgeon. I do like the idea of being able to pack around a number of books in a nearly weightless (by comparison) container. Having struggled through airports with a shoulder bag packed with 10 pounds of reading material, I understand the convenience. I also know that as more and more people make the switch, the demand for paper products, and therefore trees, will decline.

Snow Day*

*Johnstown Tribune-Democrat
January 30, 2011
as "Warm memories awakened on a midwinter's day"

Copyright © 2007, 2011 by Ralph Couey

Outside the window, the Lake Effect Snow Machine was raging, piling up on the ground. The wind gusted, rattling the shutters and temporarily changing the trajectory of the snow from vertical to horizontal. I turned away from the window and put another log on the fire, trying to ignore the ache of restlessness. 

Looking into the flames, my thoughts began to wander.  I could see a blurred white line on a ribbon of sun-splashed asphalt.  Suddenly, perhaps rashly, I headed for the back door, pausing to don some warm clothes. I mumbled to my wife that I was going to the garage.  She looked at me and smiled slightly. No one knows my moods like this remarkable woman. 

The garage was utterly quiet, and in the silence I could almost hear the raspy whisper of the snowfall through the roof and walls. With a sharp click, the hum of fluorescent lights replaced the silence and bright light filled the space.  And there, standing patiently and faithfully was my motorcycle. 

Ostensibly, my purpose was to crank the engine over and charge the battery, those necessary things for an otherwise moribund piece of machinery. But on this day, when the mid-winter blues were deepened by the grim weather, I felt a deeper need. 

I opened both doors for ventilation and swung my leg over the seat, a movement made awkward by the heavy clothes and boots. I inserted and turned the key.  My thumb came forward on the starter. It took a couple of tries, but the engine finally roared to life. 

I closed my eyes, and the memories came flooding back.  Rides under a hot sun, through the cool mountains; on Kansas highways flanked by never-ending fields of wheat.  Twisting through the Colorado Rockies and the Arkansas Ozarks.   I thought of springtime rides, reveling in the return of warm sunshine; how marvelous the scent of new flowers and the rich aroma of freshly turned earth; to see the trees budding and the grass turning green.

Remembering and Learning From History*

Image from StephenGregory.blogspot.com

*Johnstown, PA Tribune-Democrat
April 10, 2011
as "War offers important history lesson"

Copyright © 2011 by Ralph Couey
Words only

150 years ago this month, the first shots were fired in what would become America’s bloodiest conflict, and the most critical point in our nation’s history.

In January, 1861, Mississippi, Florida, Alabama, Georgia, Louisiana, and Texas joined South Carolina in seceding from the union.  These states, later joined by Virginia, Arkansas, Tennessee, and North Carolina formed the Confederate States of America.  And in April, when the South bombarded Fort Sumter in Charleston Harbor, the Civil War began.

From April 1861 to April 1865 in a conflict characterized by outmoded tactics against modern weapons, some 625,000 men died on both sides.  To put that in perspective, the combined American deaths for World War I, World War II, Korea, and Vietnam total some 629,000.  Some researchers, citing the combat deaths of civilians caught in the crossfire, peg that number closer to 700,000, more than all the dead in all the rest of America’s wars.

Honor and Remembrance**

USS San Antonio (LPD-17 class)

Official U.S. Navy photograph

*Chicago Tribune
January 28, 2011
as "Honor, she will serve"

*Somerset, PA Daily American
January 29, 2011
as "Honor, she will serve"

Copyright © 2011 by Ralph Couey

The sea is seductive. It holds an indescribable power over the soul of a human.  It is a place of awesome beauty and fearsome power.  Yet, at dusk when the sun’s dying rays appear to sink into its depths, it also inspires quiet reflection and deep emotions.  As author Kate Chopin put it,

The voice of the sea speaks to the soul.

The touch of the sea is sensuous,

enfolding thebody in its soft, close embrace.

Standing on the deck of a ship, you look around you and behold a perfect world of water, unbroken from horizon to horizon.  Beneath you lies a tower of water many hundreds, or even thousands of feet deep.  At night, far from any polluting light source, the sky is crowded with stars.  As the bow cleaves the water, tiny creatures are stirred up in the wake, giving the foam a glowing phosphorescence as it trails out astern.  During the day, you are struck by the sheer size of the planet you inhabit; at night, the majestic infinity of the universe awes you.  Either way, you feel very, very small.

But under your feet is a steel deck.  The engines are turning and the Captain is on the Bridge.  In the middle of incomprehensible vastness, you find comfort in the solidity of your ship. 

A mass of haze gray steel floating on the water.  That’s what most people see in a Navy ship.  But to a sailor, it is a vision that ignites strong emotions. 

To outsiders, the love affair between ships and sailors is a mystery.  You have to understand that a ship is not an office building.  It is a workplace, to be sure.  But it is also the vessel that carries sailors across the trackless seas to places of wonder and duty.  They work there, sleep there, eat there, and if necessary, fight there.  Some die there.

Hopes and Dreams*

Diana discovers the world of the Big Sister

*Johnstown, PA Tribune-Democrat

January 23, 2011

as "The Beauty of Hope"

Copyright © 2011 by Ralph Couey

It was an eventful week.  On Monday, January 10^th, after some 9 months of thoughtful consideration and introspection, I had lap band surgery.  This procedure places an adjustable band around the upper part of the stomach, reducing its useable size to about three-quarters of a cup. 

I went home on Tuesday, and during the overnight hours, our son and daughter-in-law gave birth to a son, who they named Ian Robert. 

As disparate as these two occasions may seem, they are both linked by a strong hope for the future.

On Wednesday, my wife poured me into our vehicle and we headed for Baltimore.  Arriving at the hospital, we found our new grandson wrapped in blankets and sleeping peacefully.  Picking up that tiny bundle of soft flannel and fragile human, I once again experienced the awe and wonder, and the joy, of a new life.

It was an emotional moment.  A little over a year ago in California, I had held another new life.  Our granddaughter Zoe, however, beset with multiple medical problems, passed away only five-and-a-half months later.  Our oldest daughter and her husband were devastated, and we have all tried hard to understand the meaning and purpose behind that loss.  But on this night, we once again celebrated the miracle.

Slanguage**

*Chicago Tribune
January 21, 2011
as "Cooking with slanguage"

*Somerset, PA Daily American
January 22, 2011
as "Cooking with Slanguage"

Copyright © 2011 by Ralph Couey

My grandmother was a marvelous cook, the kind who had an instinctive, almost spiritual connection with her recipes. Her daughters almost never saw her use measuring devices. She used her hands, palms, fingers, and even the crook of her elbow to measure the ingredients and for the outcome, relied on her eyes, sense of taste, and experience. She turned out incredible meals.

There aren’t many cooks like that anymore. Because of the busy nature of our lives, most of us rely on prepackaged, or at least preassembled meals that require a minimum of prep and cooking time. On those rare occasions when I try to cook, I stick as close as possible to the stated measurements, carefully using the measuring cups and spoons to get things right. Unfortunately, it still turns out to be a catastrophe casserole.

I asked my mom once how grandma cooked. She replied, “Oh, she uses a pinch of this, a dab of that, a dash of something else.” But over the years, the exact amount of those measurements seem to have escaped quantification.

We use terms like that outside of the kitchen as well. Iota, for example. We know it’s a small amount, but exactly how small? When I used to work cattle in New Mexico, I remember the other cowboys using the term “skosh.” “Jest back that thar trailer up a skosh.”

Freedom and "The Dream"*



The Power and the Passion

(and I still haven't found the original attribution for this photo)

*Johnstown, PA Tribune-Democrat
January 16, 2010
as "Decades later, King's words still echo"

Copyright © 2011 by Ralph Couey

“I have a dream.”

Four simple words that when put together define the hope of every human.  But those words also define the life of a man; a leader; an American hero.

August 28, 1963 was a hot day in Washington, DC.  Some 200,000 people had gathered, surrounding the big reflecting pool at the foot of the Lincoln Memorial.  They had come to listen to a southern minister whose lyrical voice and powerful words had galvanized the civil rights movement.  There had been other leaders, but in his presence and passion shone a vision of what was possible; perhaps even inevitable. 

Dr. Martin Luther King led from the front.  On countless marches, he had boldly led African-Americans and supportive whites down streets in some of the most racially divided cities in America.  He had been arrested, even spent time in jail.  But southern whites were rapidly finding out that while you can imprison a man, you cannot imprison an idea.

In the torpid air of that humid summer day, he rose and began to speak.

Parenting Out On a Limb*

*Somerset, PA Daily American
January 8, 2011
as "Your actions will change the world"


Copyright © 2011 by Ralph Couey

Human children are unique, in that they are born completely helpless. But the capacity to grow and develop into a member of the dominant life form on the planet is an amazing thing.  A monkey is born with far more strength, agility, and independence, but at the end of his life the only thing he’s accomplished is to swing from trees and eat bananas. And although I’ve had days where I wished all I had to do was swing from trees and eat bananas, I know that we humans alone of all the teeming life on Earth have the intelligence, capacity and the ability to change our world.

Once, when I was very young, I was playing in some woods near my home. I found one of those “helicopter” maple seeds. On a whim, I broke open the seed cover, poked a hole in the ground with a stick, and put the seed in the hole.  Years later, I went back to the spot and was astonished to find that my seed had grown into a beautiful 15-foot-tall tree. In a moment of whimsy so long ago, I had started a process of growth and change.  That tree had defied the heat and wild storms of summer and the fierce cold of winter, all without any help from me.  In a very small way, I had changed the world.

As a father, I am familiar with the sensations of holding a new baby, that moment where we look at this tiny little human and ask, “Where will you go? What will you do?”