This is it. The final weekend of the baseball season. The Yankees clinched a few days ago, and are playing for home field advantage through out the playoffs. It still feels a little strange to even think about homefield advantage in the playoffs. I am going to date myself by saying that I remember when there was ONLY the world series. Well, those years are going, and now we have the designated hitter in the American League . . .
This is going to be an interesting final weekend of baseball, especially for the National League. The Mets clinched the east a couple of weeks ago and just lost one of their pitchers, Pedro for the playoffs. The NL central division is up for grabs with Cardinals, the Astros, and the Reds in the hunt. Though the Reds have to get lucky, IMHO to win. The NL west will be represented by the Padres or the Dodgers. And the Philies are still in the hunt for a wildcard berth.
I remember my first post season. 1963. I was recovering from that broken hip that I wrote about in my earlier entry on the solar eclipse. When you spend most of the summer in bed at the age of nine, what do you do? I watched baseball. Dodgers v. Yankees. I remember watching Sandy Kofax pitch and he was my hero. The Dodgers won in 4. I was too young and new to the game to fully appreciate Sandy Koufax. He had a 1.88 era. 1.88. Even in the National League, without the designated hitter, it is an almost unheard of era.
In the meantime, it is time for me to go back to the game.
CAL FIRE (CDF) S2T Tanker 71 working Sawtooth Complex Fire (2006)
Sawtooth Complex Fire (Sept. 2006), San Bernardino County CA. Photo Credit: U.S. Forest Service
Friday, September 29, 2006
Monday, September 25, 2006
Delaware River Redux
Ok, one last post on the subject of the June 2006 Delaware River Floods. I was talking to a friend a few days ago who was years and years of experience in hydrology and water utilities management, the subject turned to floods so I brought up the Delaware River floods. In case you are wondering, hydrology, according to Websters, is a science dealing with the properties, distribution, and circulation of water on and below the earth's surface and in the atmosphere.
For awhile know I have been wondering if, instead of the State coming along and offering to "buy out" certain residential properties in flood prone areas, why couldn't the Government offer direct subsidies to help offset at least some of the costs of rehabbing the property to better with stand flooding. For example, putting a house on piers, raising outlets so that they are a three feet higher, suspending the furnace from the ceiling, and taking appliances including hot water heaters out of the basement or first floor, to name a few.
Well, I'm glad I talked to my friend, because he told me something which seemed very simple. That is, that it is not always possible to rehabs so a house will withstand flooding with minimal problems. I was reminded of all the times that people ask me about my "summer cabin" or camp in Vermont. It was not built to be lived in from mid-October to early-May. People are always asking me, why don't you have the house "winterized"? I reply that it is literally impossible to add insulation and otherwise seal off the house to keep it warm. First it is built on short piers, there is no basement, and no place for insulation. It just can't be done. I would be better off tearing the house down and building a new house.
So, I am back to square one. I have thiis idea in my head that I have to acknowledge may not work. I continue to think about all those people living along the Delaware who love the River and want to keep living there. Some are going to have the money, from various sources, to do the type of rehabbing that I am talking about. Just as important, they have a house that can be rehabbed. What happens to the people who can not afford to rehabb their house so that it can withstand floods. What happens to the people who own a house that can not be rehabbed?
No answers, I'm afraid. Just questions.
For awhile know I have been wondering if, instead of the State coming along and offering to "buy out" certain residential properties in flood prone areas, why couldn't the Government offer direct subsidies to help offset at least some of the costs of rehabbing the property to better with stand flooding. For example, putting a house on piers, raising outlets so that they are a three feet higher, suspending the furnace from the ceiling, and taking appliances including hot water heaters out of the basement or first floor, to name a few.
Well, I'm glad I talked to my friend, because he told me something which seemed very simple. That is, that it is not always possible to rehabs so a house will withstand flooding with minimal problems. I was reminded of all the times that people ask me about my "summer cabin" or camp in Vermont. It was not built to be lived in from mid-October to early-May. People are always asking me, why don't you have the house "winterized"? I reply that it is literally impossible to add insulation and otherwise seal off the house to keep it warm. First it is built on short piers, there is no basement, and no place for insulation. It just can't be done. I would be better off tearing the house down and building a new house.
So, I am back to square one. I have thiis idea in my head that I have to acknowledge may not work. I continue to think about all those people living along the Delaware who love the River and want to keep living there. Some are going to have the money, from various sources, to do the type of rehabbing that I am talking about. Just as important, they have a house that can be rehabbed. What happens to the people who can not afford to rehabb their house so that it can withstand floods. What happens to the people who own a house that can not be rehabbed?
No answers, I'm afraid. Just questions.
Saturday, September 23, 2006
Once in a lifetime phenonema
For those of you who read my latest entry (The Summer Triangle, yes I know it is fall), I did spend a little time gazing at the stars last night. The forecast for this weekend calls for rain, so gazing heavenward may have to wait for clearer skies. Speaking of astronomy, I had the privilege of seeing two once–in–a–lifetime events while I was still in grade school.
The first was a total solar eclipse of the sun. To set the stage for this story, the eclipse happened sometime in the summer of 1963 in Massachusetts. I remember the year because I spent several weeks in the hospital, first with a bone infection in my left hip, and later with a broken hip. As a brief sidebar, I was very lucky. I was spared surgery and my hip healed completely.
Anyway, I was in four-bed ward in pediatrics in the town hospital. Much to my delight, the nurses and the rest of the hospital staff took pity on me, making sure I had one of two or three TVs in the hospital, and a remote control. At some point between the baseball games, cartoons, and Dobie Gillis reruns, I heard about the upcoming solar eclipse. I was really excited because I had a bed by the window where I could see the sun at the time the eclipse was to happen.
When I heard that I could damage my eyes if I were to look at the eclipse with out eye protection, I was disappointed. Someone on the hospital staff came up with the idea that I could look at the eclipse through some exposed x–ray film. At the appointed time, someone gave me the x–ray film and I watched the eclipse. I seem to remember that there were one or two nurses watching the eclipse with me. There was something about the eclipse on the TV, so I had commentary while the eclipse was going on. It was very, very cool. I saw the moon gradually “moving” across the sun before blocking out the sun completely. Just as I had heard on TV, the sky grew dark. Then just as quickly, the moon seemed to move away and the sky grew lighter.
I would not recommend that anyone try to use exposed x–ray film to look at an eclipse. I heard somewhere that this is not a good idea. But, even with all the attention lavished on my by the hospital staff that summer of 1963, it was not fun to be in a hospital. The eclipse was one of the high points.
The second was a display of the northern light in August, either in 1965 or 1966. I know the month because I was on vacation with my family, camping on the coast of Maine. During those years, we would take our vacation in the month of August. The campground was on an island on the coast. We had a campsite that fronted on the rocky shore. About once a week, there was a large bonfire on what we called “the rocks.” The campground was fairly small, so many of the campers were sitting around the bonfire when we began to notice some greenish lights in the sky. If my parents were not at the bonfire, they came down to watch. My Dad told me that I was seeing the northern lights and that they rarely occurred this far south for they were a much more common occurrence in the artic.
I don’t quite know how long we sat there looking at these wonderful ribbons of light dancing in the sky. We were all mesmerized. Any one who has seen a northern lights display knows what I mean. All too soon, the ribbons of light began to fade, finally disappearing all together.
I have “seen” a couple of partial solar eclipses since 1963, or at least the shadows on a safe surface. I have not seen a total solar eclipse and doubt that I will have another opportunity in my lifetime unless I travel to some far off location. A few years, there may have been a display of the northern lights visible in New Jersey. At least the media reported that a display had occurred. I remember hearing the media report and kicking myself for not paying attention to the sky the night before. I was “too busy”, at the time to notice the strange lights in the urban sky. My loss.
Will I be too busy the next time?
The first was a total solar eclipse of the sun. To set the stage for this story, the eclipse happened sometime in the summer of 1963 in Massachusetts. I remember the year because I spent several weeks in the hospital, first with a bone infection in my left hip, and later with a broken hip. As a brief sidebar, I was very lucky. I was spared surgery and my hip healed completely.
Anyway, I was in four-bed ward in pediatrics in the town hospital. Much to my delight, the nurses and the rest of the hospital staff took pity on me, making sure I had one of two or three TVs in the hospital, and a remote control. At some point between the baseball games, cartoons, and Dobie Gillis reruns, I heard about the upcoming solar eclipse. I was really excited because I had a bed by the window where I could see the sun at the time the eclipse was to happen.
When I heard that I could damage my eyes if I were to look at the eclipse with out eye protection, I was disappointed. Someone on the hospital staff came up with the idea that I could look at the eclipse through some exposed x–ray film. At the appointed time, someone gave me the x–ray film and I watched the eclipse. I seem to remember that there were one or two nurses watching the eclipse with me. There was something about the eclipse on the TV, so I had commentary while the eclipse was going on. It was very, very cool. I saw the moon gradually “moving” across the sun before blocking out the sun completely. Just as I had heard on TV, the sky grew dark. Then just as quickly, the moon seemed to move away and the sky grew lighter.
I would not recommend that anyone try to use exposed x–ray film to look at an eclipse. I heard somewhere that this is not a good idea. But, even with all the attention lavished on my by the hospital staff that summer of 1963, it was not fun to be in a hospital. The eclipse was one of the high points.
The second was a display of the northern light in August, either in 1965 or 1966. I know the month because I was on vacation with my family, camping on the coast of Maine. During those years, we would take our vacation in the month of August. The campground was on an island on the coast. We had a campsite that fronted on the rocky shore. About once a week, there was a large bonfire on what we called “the rocks.” The campground was fairly small, so many of the campers were sitting around the bonfire when we began to notice some greenish lights in the sky. If my parents were not at the bonfire, they came down to watch. My Dad told me that I was seeing the northern lights and that they rarely occurred this far south for they were a much more common occurrence in the artic.
I don’t quite know how long we sat there looking at these wonderful ribbons of light dancing in the sky. We were all mesmerized. Any one who has seen a northern lights display knows what I mean. All too soon, the ribbons of light began to fade, finally disappearing all together.
I have “seen” a couple of partial solar eclipses since 1963, or at least the shadows on a safe surface. I have not seen a total solar eclipse and doubt that I will have another opportunity in my lifetime unless I travel to some far off location. A few years, there may have been a display of the northern lights visible in New Jersey. At least the media reported that a display had occurred. I remember hearing the media report and kicking myself for not paying attention to the sky the night before. I was “too busy”, at the time to notice the strange lights in the urban sky. My loss.
Will I be too busy the next time?
Friday, September 22, 2006
The Summer Triangle (yes, I know it is fall)
I have a confession to make. I am starting to take my semi–light free night skies for granted. We have been living on the edge of the NYC metro area for over five years, having moved here from a urban town in New Jersey about 45 miles east. A few years ago, I got very interested in learning how to identify the different constellations in the night sky. During our summer visits to the northeast kingdom of Vermont, I had the perfect laboratory because of the light pollution free skies.
I remember the summer when the summer constellations seemed to jump out at me. The stars in the sky became a sanctuary, a sign of hope and comfort in troubled times. Among my favorites are three constellations, Cygnus (aka the Swan and also referred to as the northern cross), Aquila (aka the Eagle), and Lyra (aka the Harp). These three constellations are in the night sky during the summer into the fall. In the northern latitudes in the US, Cygnas is almost overhead in the sky at about 9 PM.
Each constellation has a bright star that is often viewable in urban areas on clear moonless nights: Denab in Cygnus, Altair in Aquila, and Vega in Lyra. These three stars form a triangle that while not a constellation is given the acronym, the summer triangle.
When we first moved out here, we spent many summer evenings sitting outside, listening to the ballgame on the radio, and looking at the night sky. Now the area where I live has less light pollution than the urban area where we used to live, but more than rural Vermont. Still, I can see many more stars than we could in our urban town. Instead of only seeing the summer triangle on clear moonless nights, I could see all major stars of Cygnus, Aquila, and Lyra. Now, I take it for granted, and I don’t revel in the stars and the sky the way I used to.
As I grew more accustomed to my life here, I spent less and less time outside. I have recently begun to feel like I have lost something by not stopping to spend a few moments gazing at the heavens. I am poorer for this. So I write this in this public space to make a commitment to myself. I am going to endeavor to spend a little more time outside on evenings to look at the sky. This is one of my ways of achieving serenity and inner peace.
Image courtesy of sky this week info
I remember the summer when the summer constellations seemed to jump out at me. The stars in the sky became a sanctuary, a sign of hope and comfort in troubled times. Among my favorites are three constellations, Cygnus (aka the Swan and also referred to as the northern cross), Aquila (aka the Eagle), and Lyra (aka the Harp). These three constellations are in the night sky during the summer into the fall. In the northern latitudes in the US, Cygnas is almost overhead in the sky at about 9 PM.
Each constellation has a bright star that is often viewable in urban areas on clear moonless nights: Denab in Cygnus, Altair in Aquila, and Vega in Lyra. These three stars form a triangle that while not a constellation is given the acronym, the summer triangle.
When we first moved out here, we spent many summer evenings sitting outside, listening to the ballgame on the radio, and looking at the night sky. Now the area where I live has less light pollution than the urban area where we used to live, but more than rural Vermont. Still, I can see many more stars than we could in our urban town. Instead of only seeing the summer triangle on clear moonless nights, I could see all major stars of Cygnus, Aquila, and Lyra. Now, I take it for granted, and I don’t revel in the stars and the sky the way I used to.
As I grew more accustomed to my life here, I spent less and less time outside. I have recently begun to feel like I have lost something by not stopping to spend a few moments gazing at the heavens. I am poorer for this. So I write this in this public space to make a commitment to myself. I am going to endeavor to spend a little more time outside on evenings to look at the sky. This is one of my ways of achieving serenity and inner peace.
Image courtesy of sky this week info
Wednesday, September 13, 2006
Castleman River Bridge
After Knoxville, we spent a couple of days in Kentucky visiting friends. On our drive back home, we spent the night in Grantsville MD, west of Cumberland and near the old Cumberland Road. After dinner, we happened upon a small park and found the Castleman's River Bridge. Built in 1813, this very fine stone arch bridge has been restored and is a pedestrian bridge. The bridge fascinated me, so I got my camera and took a couple of pictures.
Tuesday, September 12, 2006
Looking through a different pair of eyes
A recent trip to Knoxville and a factory I encountered there gave me pause to consider two professors from graduate school, and how they forever changed the way I looked at towns, cities, as well as rural areas. From Donald Krueckeberg, with whom I studied the history of planning, I learned about the evolution of urban planning. But perhaps more important, was the intangible thing I learned, to look at a city, for example, with an eye towards what the physical form of the city tells me about its history. By physical form, I am talking about anything that was built by man as well as where it is located, on the Tennessee River in Knoxville’s case.
Bob Beauregard, who had a background in architecture in addition to his degrees in planning, taught me to appreciate architecture with a little bit of history thrown in. The class in question was actually a one-time seminar he taught. One of the more memorable classes were two -- we met for three hours a week – where he showed us slides he had taken around Philadelphia and environs. He showed us the slides and talked about architecture. I never looked at buildings the same way again.
What do these men have to do with a factory in Knoxville? I'll tell you. Shortly after we arrived in Knoxville, we arrived we went for a walk through a section of the city that the magazine in our hotel room referred to as “old town.” A working set of freight rail tracks formed a sort of boundary on the edge of this residential/shopping/restaurant district. As we approached the rail tracks, I saw this working factory, the White Lily Flour Company. A working factory in the middle of Knoxville. I was blown away, because I wasn’t expecting it.
Sometime later, a quick search of the web revealed that the White Lily Flour Co. has been in business since at least 1883, making "light" flour. I believe that we had bisuits made with White Lily flour while we were in Knoxville. A delight, and they did indeed seem "lighter.
The entire factory complex made a distinct impression on me. I’m not sure why. I’ve seen many factories over the years. Perhaps it was because we had just driven 700 miles. Perhaps it was because about one-half to three-quarters of mile away was our hotel just across the street from several office buildings. Perhaps it was because in other smaller to mid-sized cities factories both larger and smaller then the White Lily Flour Co. factory have been demolished to make way for new development. In any case, I am glad that I had my digital camera with a charged battery, so I could take some pictures. And I thought about both Profs Beauregard and Krueckeberg who taught me to look at cities with a different set of eyes.
I would have seen the factory even if I had never encountered Profs. Krueckeberg and Beauregard. But the lessons I learned, including looking at buildings and surrounding infrastructure with a different pair eyes stay with me to this day. I saw this factory and I thought of both of these wonderful men. I was excited because I saw something special with a different set of eyes.
Bob Beauregard, who had a background in architecture in addition to his degrees in planning, taught me to appreciate architecture with a little bit of history thrown in. The class in question was actually a one-time seminar he taught. One of the more memorable classes were two -- we met for three hours a week – where he showed us slides he had taken around Philadelphia and environs. He showed us the slides and talked about architecture. I never looked at buildings the same way again.
What do these men have to do with a factory in Knoxville? I'll tell you. Shortly after we arrived in Knoxville, we arrived we went for a walk through a section of the city that the magazine in our hotel room referred to as “old town.” A working set of freight rail tracks formed a sort of boundary on the edge of this residential/shopping/restaurant district. As we approached the rail tracks, I saw this working factory, the White Lily Flour Company. A working factory in the middle of Knoxville. I was blown away, because I wasn’t expecting it.
Sometime later, a quick search of the web revealed that the White Lily Flour Co. has been in business since at least 1883, making "light" flour. I believe that we had bisuits made with White Lily flour while we were in Knoxville. A delight, and they did indeed seem "lighter.
The entire factory complex made a distinct impression on me. I’m not sure why. I’ve seen many factories over the years. Perhaps it was because we had just driven 700 miles. Perhaps it was because about one-half to three-quarters of mile away was our hotel just across the street from several office buildings. Perhaps it was because in other smaller to mid-sized cities factories both larger and smaller then the White Lily Flour Co. factory have been demolished to make way for new development. In any case, I am glad that I had my digital camera with a charged battery, so I could take some pictures. And I thought about both Profs Beauregard and Krueckeberg who taught me to look at cities with a different set of eyes.
I would have seen the factory even if I had never encountered Profs. Krueckeberg and Beauregard. But the lessons I learned, including looking at buildings and surrounding infrastructure with a different pair eyes stay with me to this day. I saw this factory and I thought of both of these wonderful men. I was excited because I saw something special with a different set of eyes.
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