Archive for the ‘MY WRITING’ Category

FOR WHOM THE BELL TOLLS…21st CENTURY VERSION.

October 23, 2014

 

“…any man’s death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind.  And therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee”  (John Donne)

“Pneumonia is the friend of the elderly.”

“That’s what Meredith says happened to her mother. Though she received $40,000 worth of care in her last two months of life, not one of her 25 doctors sat down with Dorothy Glas and her family and discussed how she wanted to die.”

If Islamic terrorists shot down a plane with 400 people on board, we would have the country’s airspace shut down, fighter jets guarding our airspace, and the economy would suffer a huge blow.  Since June, that many women have died at the hands of a man they knew.  Not much outrage.  Since early August, that many children have died because of firearms. No outrage.

As I write, Ebola, with a death toll of 1 in the US, has caused pilots not to show up to fly, schools to close, and people to buy biohazard suits.  This is the “home of the brave”? The facts: at the time of writing, the 3-week quarantine for people who treated the index case in the emergency room has quietly ended. No other cases have occurred.  Ebola has dominated the news, with a large number of articles, posts, political cartoons, demands to “do something,” stop all travel with West Africa, which is a large area, most of which is not infected with Ebola.  It is worth looking at a map of Africa some time.  The continent is 50% larger than North America.  Two thousand languages are spoken.  Worrying about “West Africa” is like worrying in Portland, Maine for a problem in Atlanta.

I am not getting to my point soon enough.  Twenty thousand people a year commit suicide in the US using firearms.  I am not talking about murders, which are about eleven thousand.  But hey, to misquote Stalin, a single death is a tragedy and a million are a statistic. We tolerate similar carnage on our highways.  A young couple and their 7-month old died on US 20 the other day near Santiam Pass following a collision with a larger vehicle. It wasn’t Ebola, so there was no outcry.  But they are still dead.  There is no way we can prevent all these deaths, but we ought to do better.  Seventy-three thousand people go to emergency departments with gunshot wounds (GSWs) every year.  The current congressional representative from Tucson, Ron Barber, whom I know, walks with a limp, for he was shot at the “Tucson Massacre” in 2011, where his predecessor, Gabby Giffords, whom I also know, was severely injured by a GSW through the parietal lobe.  Her remarkable recovery, sadly incomplete, is inspiring.  A crazy man with a gun did that.

Ron has to campaign supporting the Second Amendment, even though he was a casualty of the fact that the Second Amendment apparently has no limits in the US, at least if one wishes to get elected.

Fact: the number of homicides per 100,000 people has fallen 50% since 1993.  This, however, has not been the case with suicides. Many of us think gun violence has increased.  It hasn’t.  It is still too high.  One is too high.  Suicide is the 10th leading cause of death, and firearm use in suicides accounts for more than sixty per cent of all firearm deaths.  Firearm deaths are a public health issue far exceeding Ebola, four times that of ALS, and fifty times that of Cystic Fibrosis.

Why would the NRA, therefore, through its influence in the Senate, try to block a Surgeon General’s nomination, who believes that firearm violence is a major public health issue?  Isn’t it? If a death from Ebola is major, what about twenty thousand a year from firearm suicides?  Is that not a public health issue?  Sure, a determined person who wants to die will find a way, but many suicides can be prevented.  We know this. The availability of firearms makes suicide a lot easier.  What about homicides, especially the women who die from being murdered by their husbands or boyfriends?  Why do we panic over Ebola but are so silent when it comes to men killing women and people killing themselves with firearms?

Come to think of it, on 60 Minutes, a doctor expressed outrage at Oregon’s Death with Dignity Act (DWDA), because he called it assisted suicide.  We call it “hastening” here.  Hey, they use their words, and I will use mine.  The DWDA was voted in twice by Oregon voters, despite political action by the Catholic Church (they should have lost tax-exempt status), upheld by the Supreme Court, and accounted for exactly 112 deaths in Oregon last year. The major reasons people choose hastening is not because of pain, which is still poorly treated, and the Dartmouth physician should be addressing that, but because all are terminal and have had enough. Here are their major reasons:

Losing autonomy  (93%)

Less able to engage in activities making life enjoyable  (89%)

Loss of dignity  (73%)

All 112 were going to die in a few months.  They wanted to choose when and how.  They were not depressed, as was alleged; 2 last year required psychiatric evaluation, and as a neurologist, who diagnosed depression long before the diagnosis was “mainstream,” I have some idea of what I am talking about.  No, these people had enough.  When one stood in front of the mirror one morning, after having lost 40% of his body weight, likened himself to an Auschwitz survivor, he had seen enough.  He knew what was coming, and he wanted to be in control.

Public health issues?  There are many.  Firearms are one, and the NRA is wrong to recommend against a Surgeon General nominee who understands that.  We can easily fix Ebola, and DWDA is what most people want to have an option. If you don’t believe me, volunteer at a nursing home some time, where demented people get their pneumonia treated, so they can go back to the same existence.

Finally, every adult, and let me repeat, every adult, needs a living will.  Young people can be brain damaged from accidents and they can get cancer, too.  Be very clear on what your end of life desires are.  You do have choices.  You can make choices I may not.  That is your right.

I don’t want my pneumonia treated, should I become demented.  It will be my friend.

TWO SIDES TO A STORY: FACTS AND UNSUBSTANTIATED OPINIONS

October 14, 2014

I didn’t start it, but I did finish it.

My wife and I took an early morning shuttle to the Minneapolis airport after our annual weeklong trip into the Boundary Waters.  Coming out of the woods after a trip requires readjusting to a lot of people and noise.  We had been been in a world where nature ruled.  It is not inherently dangerous in the woods, if one can read the weather, understand animal behavior, and constantly observe the surroundings.  There isn’t any right or wrong out there, only consequences.  We’d do well to heed that aphorism in nature today.

The other passenger was a woman from California’s central valley, who began a conversation with the shuttle driver about the drought.  The conversation soon devolved to the smelt, a fish that had been protected for years, but whose protection now cost sending water to farms.

After hearing “tree huggers”, I then heard her say “people have priority over fish.”  The fish had been protected by people, so I wasn’t following her reasoning.  The fish doesn’t have a choice but to live in water; people have the choice to control their numbers and use water properly, especially in dry areas, like the central valley.  Nature doesn’t tell us to control population or water use, but there are consequences if we don’t. The lady then referred to herself as “an environmentalist.”

I was beginning to seethe but held my tongue, as we would soon disembark.  My wife, however, who usually stays quiet, commented, “Some of us back here feel differently.”  Her words ignited me.

“Perhaps if California had a better system to allocate water and acted a lot earlier, this wouldn’t be a problem,” I began.  “Perhaps we shouldn’t try to grow certain crops in places where the rainfall is capricious.  If Fresno used the same water per capita as Phoenix, 3/4 million acre feet would be saved annually. Half the houses in Sacramento don’t have water meters.”  I had a dozen more things I wanted to say, including rainwater harvesting, fixing leaks, not brushing teeth with the faucet running, and 90-second showers, but we were at the airport.

“There are two sides to every story, I guess,” the woman replied.

“Yes,” I shot back.  “Facts and unsubstantiated opinions.”

That ended the discussion.

I don’t bring up controversial topics in places like airport shuttles.  But if they are mentioned, I may add my two cents’ worth.  What annoys me about the “two sides to every story” argument is many assume both sides are telling the truth.  They aren’t.  We have become a society where everybody’s say is equal to everybody else’s, and if Fox News wants to lie, it can, without consequences.  In 2014, we still allow equal time to those who believe the Earth is 10,000 years old, or that the highest carbon dioxide levels in humanity’s history have no consequences.  A large percentage of Americans feel there is no climate crisis, because enough doubt is interjected by the other side, especially by those who are good looking, sound sincere, misuse statistics, or just yell and bully— all are effective—to make their case.  We shouldn’t be debating evolution or the climate in 2014; animals are already evolving—or going extinct—because of us.  We should be trying to develop workable solutions to major problems.

I am disturbed by those with influence—I will use Sen. John McCain, for example—who violate their duty to use such influence wisely.  Mr. McCain has said many things I have disagreed with during the two decades I was his constituent.  His coming to my new state, Oregon, to campaign against a sitting Senator, once considered unethical by the Senate, bothered me.

What McCain said would have been laughable if so many people didn’t believe it.  He said that challenger Dr. Monica Wehby would be the “go-to” person to fix the VA System, since she had experience with the VA.

Mr. McCain voiced unsubstantiated opinions.  Here are facts:  Dr. Wehby is a pediatric neurosurgeon who had some of her training at the VA, like every other doctor, including me.  How many pediatric patients are at the VA?  None, unless we are conscripting kids for our several wars.  I too, trained at the VA, both as a medical student and as a neurology resident.  I saw patients. I did not know anything about running the system, and in my unsubstantiated opinion neither did Dr. Wehby. Fact: nobody with whom I trained had that experience. Fact:  Dr. Wehby has had two restraining orders placed on her by men.  That doesn’t disqualify her from the Senate, but at at time when we are polarized, her presence isn’t likely to help. That’s an opinion from one who studied psychiatry (a fact), along with an opinion that two restraining orders suggests an individual has serious anger issues. It is possible to be a good neurosurgeon yet a poor senator.  Opinion.

Fact:  Dr. Wehby is a physician running for the Senate.  Her medical training actually makes her less likely than the average physician to deal with health care finance, because she is highly specialized and less exposed to insurance issues than the average FP.  Fact.

I remember the last well-known physician-senator, Dr. Bill Frist, who also campaigned against Sen. Tom Daschle in South Dakota.  Frist had the absolute gall to say that Terri Schiavo was clearly conscious, on the basis of a video, because she laughed, when the late Ms. Schiavo was in a persistent vegetative state, a fact, where automatic smiling may occur, like in babies.  Fact: The American Academy of Neurology filed an amicus curiae brief with the Florida court, and Ms. Schiavo’s brain at autopsy weighed 600 gm, the least in an adult I ever saw as a neurologist.  Fact: I saw many brains at autopsy and cut brains to teach anatomy to the nursing staff at the hospital where I practiced.  Fact: Congress was called back for an emergency session in March 2005 to block Mr. Schiavo’s wishes to stop support.  Fact: some physician-legislators who were not neurologists weighed in with opinions without ever examining Ms. Schiavo.  Fact: I was a fellow of the AAN who had dealt with many vegetative cases in my career and supported the ethicists in the AAN who did examine Ms. Schiavo.

Yes, there are two sides to every story, but they are usually not equal.  We aren’t tossing a coin here, with a 50% probability of heads; we are dealing with the smelt, fresh water allocation, the climate, who runs the country, war, Ebola, overpopulation, the Earth’s age, and resource degradation.  We should be using science, models, and probabilities.  The probability that the Earth is older than 10,000 tropical years is 1. The confidence we have that manmade climate change is occurring is over 95%. Fact. California cannot continue to use water the way it once did.  Fact.  Unsubstantiated opinion:  America needs decisions made less by charisma and screaming and more by science and careful deliberation.

Fact: Soon.

SECEDE DOES NOT EQUAL SUCCESS

October 7, 2014

A significant number of people in America would like their state to peacefully secede from the Union.  Not surprisingly, the percentage is high in the western US and rural areas, home of rugged individualists, who want to be left alone, at least until something happens they don’t like, when they say, “somebody ought to pass a law against that.” My fellow doctors were like that, too.  They wanted to be left alone, until somebody muscled in on their turf, then wanted “administration” to do something about it.  Don’t get me wrong.  All of us are hypocrites at times.  I am.  But I admit it.

I am open to new ideas but seldom like those that were tried and failed, unless circumstances have changed.  A non-peaceful split resulted in the bloodiest war in American history.

I certainly can empathize with secession:  when I lived in Tucson, I was subject to laws passed in Phoenix, where progressive voices were drowned out by the Maricopa County crazies.  Many of us said, “Free Baja Arizona”  as a joke.  Our governor vetoed the bad laws, until she got tapped to head Homeland Security, part of the decimation of good Democrats whom Mr. Obama picked for cabinet positions.  Not counting him and Mr. Biden, at least four good senators and two Democratic governors in red states were lost, hurting the Senate, Kansas, and Arizona, which has never recovered.

But back to secession.  As a joke, in 1982, Key West declared itself the Conch Republic, declared war on the US, surrendered, and wanted aid.  The then mayor, if I remember correctly, actually got death threats.

I use Europe and the former Soviet Union to state my case against breaking a union.  Europe is a patchwork of small countries; the strongest, Germany, is one that unified.  Yugoslavia, once a powerhouse in southern Europe, run by the cagey Tito, is now seven smaller states.  The UN still has troops in Kosovo, keeping an uneasy peace for the past two decades.  Like Mt. St. Helens, the Balkans will erupt again.

Is Moldova really better off not being a part of Romania?  Perhaps. Is it a player on the world stage?  No.  Closer to home, Quebec tried to secede from Canada, fortunately not succeeding, which would have been disastrous to both.  Scotland almost left a three century old union.

The problem the secessionists don’t seem to understand is that there is a lot of work necessary to form another country, even another state.  Two northern counties in California want to become the state of Jefferson.  Their combined population is 50,000, about one-fourteenth the number needed to get a seat in Congress.  Anybody think of that?

Let’s look more closely at the “devil is in the details,” some of which apply to those who want to have a new state:

  • Constitution and governance:  Who writes it, and how is it ratified?  Who gets to vote and why?
  • Currency and how it will be backed: Gold bullion?  Who weighs, who certifies?  Cheating does occur; gold plating is easy to do.  Don’t laugh; Arizona has passed bills twice (fortunately vetoed) allowing for gold and silver to be used as legal tender, despite the hassle (ironically, big government) of having certified scales so that one can buy beer or bullets using Grandma’s earrings.
  • Ah, yes.  Taxes.  What is taxed and how much, who decides, who collects, what are they used for, and who enforces?
  • Defense: You may now follow the part of your beloved Second Amendment that you have ignored, because you will require a militia. By the way, the flag you love so dearly will no longer be yours.  The star will go, too.
  • Trade agreements with America: You may be subject to tariffs.
  • Safety nets, for a significant percentage of older Americans require Social Security as their primary source of income.  Have you thought about that?  Do you boot them out or let them “self deport”?
  • Healthcare delivery and payment.  Do doctors get paid with earrings or chickens? If I were still practicing, I wouldn’t take JSD (Jefferson State Dollars).
  • Payment for public land, which currently belongs to the American people, including folks like me, and I am not willing to sell it at any price.  I have rights, too, or are they now abrogated?
  • Dealing with natural disasters, like fire and severe storms, many of which affect states or areas more likely to favor secession.  Remember, FEMA isn’t coming any more.  Let’s discuss FEMA:  Maybe some think that passin’ the hat at church on Sunday will collect enough singles to pay for rebuilding a town. Good luck.  That is why we have FEMA, at least Mr. Obama’s FEMA 3.0, the one that works.  FEMA 2.0, under Bush, led to “Heck of a job, Brownie.”  Some of the 67 Republicans (no Democrats) who voted against federal aid for Hurricane Sandy rebuilding were themselves from states that received federal aid from natural disasters.  Katrina required 10 days to get an aid package passed; it was two months for Sandy.  Lot of hypocrisy out there.
  • Finally, JUSTICE.  Who arbitrates when two rugged individualists clash about land, roads, weight of gold or silver, taxes, responsibilities?  Who will ensure there is no cheating in the marketplace?  Who arbitrates when somebody is a nuisance, pollutes the land, shoots another, or even carries a firearm into a place where somebody like me doesn’t approve?  Who is right?  Who decides what the supreme law of the land will be?

The small town of Weed, California, in the heart of the state of Jefferson (a large sign stating the name is on the roof of a barn further north on I-5), lost 200 homes in a few hours from the Boles Fire.  Yes, passing the hat got $180K four days later.   They got assistance from Sacramento and the Red Cross. This won’t happen in the New Divided America.  These folks may charge tolls on roads that run through their land, and they may put checkpoints around them.  We in the rest of America will do the same.  Oh, the remaining US will be hurt, I don’t doubt that.  But not as hard as the next Weed, Joplin, New Orleans, or the Central Valley, when the next Cat 4, EF5, or Haines Index 6 + a cigarette tossed out a car window occurs.

Finally, I return to the basic tenet of the United States of America.  Secession to me has a simple one word synonym:  TREASON.  When I peaceably protested the Vietnam War 45 years ago, I was called a traitor for exercising my First Amendment rights.  Bumper stickers said, “Support the President”, then Mr. Nixon, under whom “a secret plan to end the war” caused 28,000 additional Americans to die. Other bumper stickers said, “America, Love it or Leave.”

We’ve come full circle, folks.  Support the President, and if you don’t like America, then you may freely leave.  But you don’t get to freely take your piece of America with you.  Nope.  You may try Moldova, Albania, or Turkmenistan, since European countries are socialistic, and 2000 languages are spoken on the African continent, along with Ebola and malaria.  You certainly don’t want anything to do with Spanish.  Maybe the Aussies or the Kiwis will take you. Or not.

Much as I don’t like you or want to be around you, I’d rather you stay, and a unified country.

LOOK HOW WE TURNED OUT

October 3, 2014

The other day, I saw this picture followed by a lot of negative comments about American education, including, “We didn’t do this and we turned out good (sic).” (it should be well, an adverb modifying “turned out”, and exactly how well did you turn out?)

What do you think?

IMG_2971

I looked at the picture and commented this is how I do mental subtraction.  A different example:  What is 427-78?  Can you do that mentally by “borrowing”? Perhaps, but with difficulty.   Here is how the above would work: They begin with the premise that subtraction is the difference between one number and another.  To get from 78 to 427, one adds 2 to get to 80, 20 more to get to 100 (22 so far), 300 more to get to 400 (322 so far) and 27 more to get to 427 (349, the answer).  I do that mentally.  I follow a basic mathematical principle:  I TURN ONE PROBLEM INTO SEVERAL SIMPLER PROBLEMS.  It is easier to add than to subtract.  I happen to go from 78 to 100 directly (22), add 327 (349) and am done.

If I do it mentally, I may also subtract 100 from 427 and add back 22.  I can subtract 78 by subtracting 100 (easy) and adding 22 (easy).

The other part of the complaint was that this is how children are learning subtraction.  Yes, but this is the “counting up method,” not the only way to subtract.  I suspect there are other methods taught.  Some children might want to use the borrowing approach; others might want to use the counting up method.  The fact I do it mentally by counting up suggests perhaps my way is easier.  It wasn’t taught back then.

I was disturbed by a comment that said, “I just want my kid to be on a horse and learn his ‘ABC’s’ .”  That isn’t going to cut it in the 21st century.  Math is everywhere; failure to understand math and science, where math is used extensively, will destroy the competitiveness of this country faster than illegal immigration, jihads, and even overpopulation, itself a math issue.  Want to ride the range?  You need to know cost of fencing and feed, cattle price per pound, per cent loss of herd, weather forecast interpretation, taxes, and transportation costs.

The doubling time for money/debt is 72/rate of interest in per cent.  This is a basic rule that everybody should know, but few do.  Borrow money on a credit card?  Invest the money you make ranching?  Need math.*

I could continue with dozens of examples of what needs to be learned by many who weighed in negatively on the above.  We need students to have an open mind and be good critical thinkers.  Most of the comments were poorly written by native speakers.  Good writing matters in the 21st century, as it always has.  Children need to learn how to write and the ability to discern the validity of information on the Internet.  Anecdotes, photoshopped pictures, astrology, and weird notions about the body abound.  California’s water crisis?  Blame it on the silver smelt, rather than poor conservation, limited rainwater harvesting, growing crops where they shouldn’t be grown, climate change, lack of water meters, not making fixing leaks a priority, allowing golf courses in the desert, 30 minute showers, brushing teeth with the faucet on, and not charging what water is truly worth.

Pray for rain?  That is silly.

A problem is I have just used 49 words to summarize, and not completely, the water crisis.  I would need several hundred more to give specific facts on water use for Fresno vs. Tucson, what is going on in the Colorado River Basin, and how much water usage occurs for things we want.  People want “the bottom line”; they are busy.  Just tell them “it’s a damn fish,” and it is all over Facebook with ten thousand likes.

Lack of critical thinking means 2-5 word simplistic solutions influence many: “boots on the ground,” “damned liberals,” “tree huggers,” “climate change is a hoax,” “drones will work,” “less government.”  We live in an extremely complex world; the ability to deal with multiple conflicting issues and make sense out of them is desperately needed in society today.  Do we arm rebels who may some day use the arms against us?  Do we understand that Kurdistan may want to be its own nation in return for helping?  Do we understand that carving out Kurdistan will impact at least 5 other nations?  How many Americans even know roughly where Kurdistan is?  Think defeating ISIS is difficult?  What happens if Hong Kong blows up now? The Ukraine and Gaza?  What about Ebola in the US?  How are we going to deal with extreme weather statistically likely to be due to climate change?  Congress ought to be in permanent session, looking for solutions with the president, doing the country’s work.

Unfortunately, it is getting worse.

America is in trouble when in 2014 we still have climate change debates, Bill Nye the Science Guy is debating the Earth’s age with a creationist, a third of Americans believe in astrology, three-quarters of adults don’t know why we have seasons, 9th graders in one school couldn’t divide 3 into 12 without using a calculator, writing skills have deteriorated, not one high school senior I asked while teaching knew the approximate size of an acre (so how do we teach an acre foot of water?), and a MATH TEACHER could not prove why Celsius=Fahrenheit at minus 40.

I taught English to a 23 year-old woman from Kurdistan, an engineer, who wants my advice whether her government-funded Master’s abroad should be in England or the US.  She is going beyond the ABCs and riding a horse. Europeans are moving ahead on renewable energy; we still are basically stuck on oil.

We will hang on for a while.  We have good universities with a lot of smart, young students in them, and we still have an innovative culture.  Unfortunately, we have tens of millions of students who are not doing well; educational debt and lack of skills will hurt our ability to compete.  Riding the range isn’t going to fund retirement.

I know how to subtract.  I saw immediately what the page showed.  The person who posted it could not, and that disturbed me.  Comments discussing past bad teachers, sympathy that kids today have to learn this awful stuff, and how bad the educational system is speaks to a culture gone awry.  Yes awry.  We are destroying public education then blaming it for failing.  We are creating for-profit charter schools, doing home schooling, where too many parents think they can teach their children or other children, and we disparage science and math, even as the former has allowed me to survive this long to write and the latter has been the foundation of my entire life.

By the way, the tripling time of money is 110/interest rate, 3 strokes on a calculator, although I assume people can divide 8 into 110.  Let’s see: 80 is 10 “8”s, 24 is three more, so 104=13 “8”s.  So it is 13 6/8 years, or 13 3/4 years.  Those who don’t learn math are going to face a world with a lot of locked doors.  Don’t blame me when you retire, poor.  I won’t be around, and it won’t be my fault.  I tried.

How did I turn out?  You decide. I couldn’t compete against the charismatic charlatans who told you what you wanted to hear, rather than what you needed to hear, but that didn’t make me less right.

*The Rule of 72: P=Principal at the end; Po=Principal at the beginning. P=Po exp(rt);  P/Po=exp (rt) and ln(P/Po)=rt.  When P is twice Po, ln (2)=rt; ln 2=0.693.  Change the interest from 0.08 (for example) to 8%, and 69.3=rt.  But 72 is an easier number to use, because it is divisible by so many other numbers, and we use it here.  All one needs to know is that 72/24=3, and the doubling time of credit card debt at 24% interest is 3 years.  The question that concerns me is whether people can divide 24 into 72 in their heads.  They should; it is the number of hours in 3 days.

FOOTBALL MATTERS; WOMEN, MINIMUM WAGE WORKERS, SQUIRRELS NEED NOT APPLY

September 22, 2014

This past week, the current Heisman Trophy winner (football’s best player last season) was seen and heard outside on campus shouting obscenities related to a woman’s anatomy.  This was well documented, as most shocking events are, and he was suspended for the first half of the next football game.

A half game suspension.  You might need him the second half.  Football matters.

There is a code of student conduct at this university, and the spokesman assured the media they would investigate to see if the player’s behavior required greater sanctions.

It did.  Two days prior to the game, the player was suspended for the whole game.  Wow. The coach’s name was not part of the signatures on the suspension document, and he had no comment, the significance of such not clear.

The press reported more:

  • At the news conference following the incident, the player said, “I have to tone it down.”  TONE IT DOWN?  To what?  Using proper medical terms?  This is a man in the public eye; a downside of which is having to control one’s speech and behavior better than the rest of us. If I swear loudly in public, I am told to shut up.  If I continue, I get arrested.  I won’t make the news.  This person is one of the best football players in the country, a role model, yet he feels that outrageous, obscene behavior in public needs only to be “toned down”?
  • While playing baseball for the same university, he was suspended 3 games plus community service after stealing $32.72 of crab legs.  This is theft.  Does the university have sanctions about students who steal?  I noted he didn’t steal a textbook.
  • A student complained he assaulted her in 2012.  The state attorney declined to pursue the case, which is not necessarily wrong.  The location, type, and evidence of the assault may or may not be easily prosecuted, and if you were that woman, would you take on a famous football player in court?  It would require immense courage. The university is reported to be still investigating.  Two years later?  Why the delay?  Until the end of football season?
  • He is under investigation for another 2012 incident where he broke 13 windows in a “BB gun battle”.   How long does it take to decide innocence or guilt and bring justice?  Admittedly, my medical background biases me, because I didn’t have two years to figure out what was wrong with a patient.  Sometimes, I had only two minutes.
  • He was held at gunpoint by campus police for shooting squirrels on campus.  The year wasn’t mentioned, but this behavior is not only sociopathic (shooting squirrels on campus is not equal to hunting deer), but animal abuse, which correlates highly with sociopathy and human abuse, bringing me back to his comments about and behavior towards women.  There is a short step between screaming obscenities and assaulting women. Oh, he did allegedly assault a woman, so that step was likely taken, unless the university finally finishes their investigation.  When does he go from abuse of women, BB gun fights, and shooting squirrels to shooting people?  How much warning does the university need to conclude this man is trouble?
  • A Burger King employee called police because the player stole soda. The media did not mention what happened, but I suspect a minimum wage working person’s comment against a Heisman Trophy winner’s behavior was not going to carry much weight.  Crab legs are more expensive than soda, but theft is theft.
  • The university in question was becoming “less tolerant” towards this person’s behavior.  That is encouraging to know:  apparently in this southern state, there are limits: assault, shooting animals, a BB gun fight, theft on two occasions, breaking windows, and screaming obscenities is enough to decrease tolerance.  My mother’s tolerance for my behavior was making me pay and apologize for stealing a 3 cent fireball when I was 8 and washing my mouth out with soap when I swore.  Yeah, nearly 60 years later, I still remember that.

The student-athlete, since that is what the NCAA calls him, was suspended for one game.  The concern has been raised that such behavior will affect his professional career in football.  Wow.  He’s a sociopath with access to firearms.  My concern is that he will some day injure and perhaps kill a woman, a minimum wage worker, companion animals or have his name on another US shooting rampage, and everybody will wonder how this could have happened.  I won’t. I will know that the university considered football; money from it and alumni donors were more important than dealing with an armed sociopath, and I say that term as a 1982 diplomate of the American Board of Psychiatry and Neurology.

As a neurologist, I have issues with football:  it damages the brain, but people love the game.  There is a tremendous amount of money involved, none goes to the “student athletes” or to scholarships, other than athletic ones.   Far too many alumni still have their lives revolve around the team’s record.  It was sad in Friday Night Lights that many who played high school football felt that was the high point in their lives.

I believe compensation for football-related brain injuries was overdue, if not overdone.  However, I believe if the game is not changed, those who now play it are voluntarily choosing to do something dangerous. I don’t feel I should be taxed to pay for their medical care, should it be related to multiple concussions. Let the NFL, the highly paid players, or the coaches pay.

I admit it: I believe those who make millions playing with a ball should be taxed at a higher rate than the rest of us. I am not jealous.  I live comfortably on far less.  I don’t believe “He who dies with the most toys wins.”  I believe my retirement should be spent volunteering in my community.  America is the land of opportunity, not outright greed and outrageous behavior by stars and willingness by many to buy their apparel, pay big bucks to see games, pay coaches in the glory sports 6,7, or 8 figures, yet pay assistant coaches in other sports (track and field, for example) $20-$40 K.

Let the market decide?  NO.  The markets have not been shown to self-regulate, any more than physicians or any other group.  If we self-regulated ourselves, there would be no litter on the roads, limitation on campaign donations, and those who pass on the right and cut in front of you, when the right lane is closed ahead, would not exist.  You have seen them, I’m sure.

America is the land of opportunity, not unbridled greed or uncontrollable behavior.  It is an opportunity for the university to stand up for what is right, regardless of the cost. Justice for all?  Yes, for those who were harmed by the player’s words and actions, and for those who will be spared harm by removing him from the society until or unless he shows his remorse through appropriate actions.

You see, I don’t listen to what people say.  I watch their feet.

“DEAD AIR” vs. A SINGLE SQUARE INCH: SILENCE

September 20, 2014

Maxwell Butte is a 5 mile hike into the Jefferson Wilderness, climbing 2500 vertical feet to the top, just over 6200 feet.  From the Butte, one can see the high Cascades from Mt. Hood to Broken Top.  On a clear day, one might see Diamond Peak, too.  It is a steady climb, and good trail work by the Obsidian Hiking Club, of which I am a member, has made the big gouge in much of the trail a resting place for downed trees, in an effort to stem erosion.

The best part of the hike came when I least expected it.  That usually happens.  It did not come when I reached the top, nor did it come when I had a great view of Three-fingered Jack right in front of me.  It wasn’t the fact that I was alone, but that was getting close.  It had been windy all the way up, but as I came down, the wind subsided.  Completely.

THREE-FINGERED JACK

THREE-FINGERED JACK

Outside the wilderness, in deep forest, Douglas firs dominant, with a few Silver Firs,  I was still alone.  But, I now, I appreciated something that I had not yet experienced on this hike.

SILENCE.

I mean QUIET.  NO NOISE.

There wasn’t any wind, no sound from a bird, a squirrel, a car, another person, or a plane overhead.  There was NO SOUND.  My ears rang, it was so quiet.

I know my hearing is gradually worsening.  But the silence was not due to my hearing problems.  There was no sound, and in America today, that is a rarity.  True, one can be in a sound-proofed room or wear sound canceling headphones, but silence in the wilderness is special, for there usually is some noise in the woods.  I’ve experienced total silence in the Grand Canyon, the Boundary Waters, and the Brooks Range.  Usually, the lack of sound has come at night, but on the Maxwell Butte trail, it was in daylight.

I sat there and listened….TO NOTHING…and thought, because without sound one starts to think…..about the Silver Fir near me, the name of which I learned only the prior week on Lowder Mountain.  I thought about the soil beneath me, the beauty of the trees, hundreds of years old, the fact that I was here, had trod these woods, and nobody was near me.  I reveled in my good fortune: SILENCE, NO NOISE.

I didn’t think of the dropped cup in the coffee shop earlier that week, where the acoustics made the noise hurt.  Or how somebody moved a cart by me as if they wanted to make as much noise as possible, as often seems the case today.

I enjoy music, but there are times I don’t want to hear it.  I don’t want to hear ANYTHING, not a beep with more information that often clutters my life.  To be outdoors in silence, away from people, is special beyond words. I believe, albeit without proof, that people need this sort of silence, yet we have countered with a barrage of sound, believing constant information is what everybody needs.  It isn’t. Multi-tasking is overload.  Many of our schedules are overloaded.  I believe there is harm from the constant beeping of messages, many unimportant, programmed voices in a car, sports announcers that feel they have to keep talking, or 24 hour a day television, where “dead air” is something to  be avoided and filled with comments, whether valuable or garbage.  Why can’t we shut up for a few minutes?

A man was once separated from a tour  group in Mammoth Cave, Kentucky.  He was found 36 hours later, alive and relieved.  In the cave, there is not one lumen of light.  If the cave is dry, there is no noise at all.  The man said what bothered him the most was the silence.  He cracked rocks together to make noise.  Darkness was a problem, but silence was difficult.   I don’t know if I would feel the same way, but I do label wilderness, total silence, and totally dark skies the “outdoor triad.”  We live less fulfilling lives, I believe, because many people never experience one of these three, let alone all of them together.

Mammoth Cave, Kentucky

Mammoth Cave, Kentucky

Light pollution has been a problem for years, affecting nature and man in nature, too.  We have lost our night sky heritage; the National Parks are trying to deal with light pollution.  Sound pollution is more insidious.  Europe doesn’t have places like the Olympic Peninsula, where the One Square Inch Project is occurring.  Excessive sound damages our hearing.  This is a fact.  It hurts other animals.  That is a fact, too.  It isn’t good for us, and the damage it does to our thinking, the believed necessity to process more information, which I don’t think healthy, is poorly recognized and the consequences not completely understood.

Eventually, a high flying jet broke the spell that I was in.  Jet engines at any altitude can be heard on the ground.

I will eventually live in a silent world, should I remove the hearing aids I will some day need to wear.  What I want now is to periodically spend time in places where there is silence, where no sound is transmitted to my cochleae.

I don’t know why at that particular moment I decided to sit on the log.  Perhaps silence ironically called me.

 

View from the log.  SILENT

View from the log. SILENT

http://www.utne.com/mind-and-body/search-for-silence-quiet-art.aspx?PageId=7#ArticleContent

WULIK PEAK BACKPACK, 2014

September 8, 2014

The Wulik Peaks area of Alaska is separate and west from the Brooks Range  and lower, not rising much above 3600 feet (1100 meters), compared to twice that in the central Brooks and nearly thrice at the highest peak.  I hadn’t even heard of the Wuliks before this year, but when one Alaska trip to the Refuge (Arctic National Wildlife Refuge) didn’t pan out, I discovered this trip, a part of the Brooks I had never seen, and one that immediately intrigued me.   Wilderness I haven’t seen intrigues me.

The advantage of living in Oregon meant that I could get there in a day, arriving in the evening, and leave on the trip the following morning, which I hadn’t been able to do on my five previous trips to the Brooks.  I did so, met the 5 other people who would be along, representing England, Germany, and the states of New Jersey and Alaska, as well as mine.  Our guide was finishing a trip in the Wuliks, and we would fly in to meet him the next day.

I had dinner with the Englishman that night, and the next morning, we all flew into the Wuliks in two planes.  It was a smooth trip, over the Noatak Delta, inland, and landing on a slight uphill rocky strip.  The planes left, and it was quiet.  There are not a lot of birds in the Brooks, especially in mid-August, and it is a very quiet place.

Noatak Delta in the morning.

Noatak Delta in the morning.

 

Landing spot.

Landing spot.

The guide gave us instructions on bear spray and dealing with bears, and we hiked as a group.  We covered about 5 miles the first day, typical for Alaska, camping where two creeks joined.  We would stay there two nights, doing a day hike the next day.  Hiking up here was much easier than I had been used to: we were often on caribou trails, and while caribou go places I don’t want to tread, their trails are a very useful highway.  The grass was low, dry, and the creeks and streams, all having a good amount of flowing water, were not difficult to ford.  I stayed dry, and I would have dry feet the whole time we were out there, which I never would have expected in the Brooks; it had never happened in the 50+ days I had hiked in five different parts.

The second day, we climbed in fog to the top of a mountain nearby, gaining about 1100 feet (340 meters) and having lunch in the shelter of a rocky area.  We returned to camp and then crossed the river and climbed up into another area, not as high, but with a view back to the north.  The nights were cool but not cold; heavy cloud cover limited radiational cooling, but the high humidity plus any wind made one cold.

Bear, from 800 meters. He was the only one we would see.

Bear, from 800 meters. He was the only one we would see.

People reaching summit of unnamed mountain.

People reaching summit of unnamed mountain.

Wheatear

Wheatear

The third day was the only day we saw sun, as we headed up to a divide between two streams, climbing about 700 feet (210 meters) and descending almost as much.  We set up camp on a bluff a little above a stream and then day hiked into the mountains, doing a loop that at one point reached a narrow edge with a scree slope with large rocks at a 45 degree angle.  I did not want to go on, but I allowed myself to be talked into it, crossing without incident.  That was my only regret on the trip: we had “group think,” and had I turned around, somebody would have gone with me.  The fact I could negotiate the area without incident did not make it safe, something I refer to as “Challenger thinking,”  after the 1986 disaster, which had plenty of prior warnings, but since nothing bad had happened, the warnings were not heeded.

Forget-me-not

Forget-me-not

Author on a plateau at 1800 feet (550 m)

Author on a plateau at 1800 feet (550 m)

The vastness of the Alaska mountains above the Arctic Circle

The vastness of the Alaska mountains above the Arctic Circle

 

We then hiked downstream to where the West Fork of the Wulik River widened and camped, climbing another 1000 foot peak nearby, without the issues of the prior day.  The fifth day, we went up another stream, through the fog, across many side channels, where there was a steep drop on uneven ground to the stream bed, followed by an equally steep climb out.  After crossing a divide between two watersheds, we camped in what was later called “rain camp,” for the moisture appeared to funnel through the mountains and turn into rain here, but not in adjacent valleys.  Indeed, as I would later learn, there was moisture funneling into the Wuliks, but the surrounding area outside the mountains was relatively dry.

West fork of Wulik River.

West fork of Wulik River.

 

View from unnamed mountain.

View from unnamed mountain.

Water slowly moving down a stream bed.

Water slowly moving down a stream bed.

It was a short walk from rain camp to where we were to be picked up.  We could see the stream beds, previously dry, start to flow, the water moving downstream about 1 meter a minute, slowly, but steadily.  Whether the water, and the few fish present, would reach the main river, was not clear.  With more rain, the water would make it, and the fish survive; if not, they would die.

We camped our final night in a foggy valley, where we could clearly see the moisture funneling into the area from which we had come.  We were mostly dry.  I had hoped that on the flight back, we would fly over the coast and see the musk ox, that were clearly there.  That didn’t happen, but when we landed, I spoke to the pilot, who agreed to take me and one of the people on the trip out off Cape Kreusenstern where we could see them.

And so a high point of the trip came, not in the mountains, but at sea level.  I asked for what I really wanted, and the answer was yes.

 

Flying over a herd of musk ox.

Flying over a herd of musk ox.

Pair of musk oxen

Pair of musk oxen

 

Head on from 400 meters.

Head on from 400 meters.

 

Much larger than I had anticipated.

Much larger than I had anticipated.

HENLINE

August 8, 2014

My wife thought I shouldn’t drive her to the airport; she would take the 5:30 a.m.shuttle instead.  I offered, because she could sleep longer and then sleep in the car.  She countered that she could sleep in the shuttle.  I took her anyway.

I was just rationalizing my desire to climb Mt. Henline in the Opal Creek Wilderness.

Coming back from the airport, I would go through Salem and detour to the southeast, eventually reaching the trailhead.  I had this trip planned as soon as I knew she was flying out of Portland.  I would enter the Opal Creek Wilderness, about 32 square miles, one of the nearly 700 wilderness areas that comprise about 5% of the US.  Call me selfish, but this was a place I wanted to hike, and coming back from Portland made it easier.

Only six states have no wilderness.  I’ve been in the largest, the Noatak-Gates of the Arctic contiguous wilderness, about 10,000 square miles, a tad smaller than Massachusetts. Imagine, Massachusetts with no cities, no roads, and no people, except for transient visitors.

Opal Creek is sacred ground.  The largest uncut forest in Oregon is here.  It was saved from the chain saws and the lumber mills, and it has only three trailheads from the road.  I took the one up the mountain, now my fourth of the 49 wilderness areas in Oregon I’ve visited in my four months here:  Cummins Creek, Three Sisters, and Mt. Jefferson are the others.  I have a lot of places to see.

Wilderness is not off limits to people, but mechanized travel and chain saws are not allowed.  I spent a summer volunteering in the Boundary Waters Canoe Area Wilderness, and every bit of sawing we did was with a two man.  If the national parks are the crown jewels of the nation, which I think they are, the wilderness areas are kept in a safety deposit box.  If one is lucky, a key is made available for one to enter these areas.  Such areas may be busy, as is the Boundary Waters in August.

Henline, however, had nobody.  I was alone.

I started up the trail in a true natural forest, quickly becoming wet from sweat and fog, from the prior two days’ rain.  I climbed 850 feet per mile for the first two miles.  Fortunately, the trail was good, except for some rock slides I crossed.  I could hear rocks fall occasionally, witness to the nature’s constant change, slow but continuous.  At the top of the main climb was where an old lookout once stood.  Through breaks in the fog, I could see forest:  uncut forest, forest the way it once was, and still ought to be in many places.  Yes, logging creates jobs, but now one person can do the work that many others used to have to do.  Trees create paper, which we waste on things like false financial statements that almost brought down the world.

 

Rockpile in fog

Rockpile in fog

But I wasn’t having those thoughts.  I was thinking how alone I was.  No, today I would not have a view of the Cascades.  I didn’t need one.  In fog, I felt part of the place, part of the forest, part of the world I inhabited for the day only. I felt like I belonged.  I heard no cars, saw nobody, and imagined what it must have been like for the pioneers trying to get through this forest, in valleys where rivers ran unchecked, from the Cascades to the tidewater flats at the ocean, rivers called Santiam, Alsea, Siuslaw, Umpqua, and Rogue.

The summit was about another mile from the lookout, and Sullivan’s book mentioned it had no views.  Well, no views, no matter.  I was going anyway.  The trail went up and down, and some of the areas along a knife-like ridge were a little hairy.  Fall here, and nobody is going to find you for a while.  I’ve thought of that a lot at Cummins Creek.  Go into the middle of that place, and you are going to be where nobody has been in a long, long time.  Everybody would do well to have that experience from time to time.  It changes one’s perspective.

Trail in fog.

Trail in fog.

The summit was where the trail stopped.  I walked around it a little while and then returned to the former lookout, where I had lunch.  I just sat there, thinking.  I didn’t think about much, just fiddled around and did the things one does in the wilderness.  Finally, I decided it was time to leave, so I went down the trail, carefully negotiating the rock slides, to the car.  Leaving no litter and no trace was turning the key back in to Mother Nature, so the safety deposit box was locked.  There would be other visitors tomorrow or the next day, for sure; the trail had been well used.  Go into places like Cummins Creek, however, and one finds places where the trail is not very evident.  That’s good. I’d like to camp there some time.  It’d be quiet.

I eventually drove back out to the freeway and home.  I felt a little special.  Nobody on the road likely had any idea what I had done today.  I had gone into a wilderness area.  Other than a few footprints, nobody knew I was there.

This doesn’t happen every day.  Shame it doesn’t.

 

View from ridge

View from ridge

One of many rockfalls

One of many rockfalls

Simple sign for a special place

Simple sign for a special place

WHEN AGE DOES AND DOESN’T MATTER

August 3, 2014

“Hardesty Hardcore,” intrigued me: an annual loop race through 3 trails in the Cascade foothills, open to anybody, with a 4 hour time cut off.  The route is 14 miles and begins with a 3000 foot climb in the first 4.5 miles.  I had hiked it once in the opposite direction, without hurrying,  in 5 hours, with a lunch stop. I thought I could do it in four, so I went out to try.  I am in good hiking shape, having hiked nearly 40 times in Oregon the past 4 months and frequently climbing well over a thousand feet, occasionally over two thousand.

I started by walking fast—too fast— becoming slightly short of breath and uncomfortable.  I slowed, and finished the initial climb in 1 hour 36 minutes.  That is pretty good for a guy my age, but at that pace I wasn’t going to finish in 4 hours, either.

I came down Eula Ridge, much steeper, so I had to watch my foot placement.  I finished that stretch two 2 hours and 45 minutes in, averaging 3.1 miles per hour, well below 3.5 mph I needed to average to make the cutoff.  The last 5.5 miles was on a trail between the two, but not at all flat; it climbed another 1000 feet, difficult on a humid day, when I had finished my water and food.  I got in just under 4 1/2 hours.

With cooler weather, an earlier start, a lighter pack, and running shoes for the last part, I might be able to make the cut.  But I don’t want to race.  I’m not sure I want to subject myself again to that stress, despite being in excellent hiking shape.  I am good but not great.  The fact that I can walk uphill on a 30% grade at 2.5 mph is nice, but I need to average 4 mph for this race, and I am not likely to do it:  I’m too old, but more importantly, it doesn’t matter.

When I was in my 30s, I got in a canoe, bound for lakes and portages I had never seen.  I camped in some of the most beautiful country imaginable, woke early, paddled hard the whole day, camped late.  I could carry pack and canoe together, and I never got sore.  Seeing the country mattered.

In my 40s, I did the same, the only difference being that I took anti-inflammatories before and after each day’s paddle.   For the first time, however, I had a neck problem, a pinched nerve, but that subsided, and I was able to continue.

In my 50s, I stopped carrying a canoe and a pack simultaneously.  I had nothing to prove and a lot I could hurt.  I started base camping, which I liked, but I still enjoyed seeing new territory.  I didn’t go as far as formerly, but I enjoyed practically every mile.

 

Agnes Lake, on my last trip into Kawnipi Lake, Quetico Provincial Park, 2005, age 56.

Agnes Lake, on my last trip into Kawnipi Lake, Quetico Provincial Park, 2005, age 56.  I have not been back.  I do not expect to see Kawnipi again.  It mattered that I saw it that year.  Agnes?  Seeing this picture makes me wonder….

 

Kawnipi Lake, 2005.  The most beautiful lake in the Quetico to many people. I have been there six times.  That matters.

Kawnipi Lake, 2005. The most beautiful lake in the Quetico to many people. I have been there six times. That matters.

 

 

Lake Insula sunset.  Having spent more than 30 nights on this beautiful lake matters.

Lake Insula sunset. Having spent more than 30 nights on this beautiful lake matters.

In my 60s, things have changed.  Many tell me that age is a number.  Those people who do are always younger than I, where one believes that the world will continue unchanged.  I still can solo trip, but I do it and base camp.

Sunset on my bay campsite, September 2013, solo.  Age 64.

Sunset on my bay campsite, September 2013, solo. Age 64.

 

I can make the miles if I have to, but I don’t feel the pressure to do so, either.  It doesn’t matter.  The year I turned 60, my wife and I aborted the first day’s paddle into Lake Insula, one we could normally do in 7 hours, where 40 year-olds we had spoken to said they needed three days.  We aborted the paddle in because of heavy rain.  We stopped, pitched the tent and stayed comfortable. Making Insula that day in 7 hours didn’t matter.  We made it easily the next day.  It was a great trip.

Twenty years earlier, I would have bulled on through.  Indeed, over our 25th wedding anniversary, we paddled 110 miles in 11 days with a day of rest.  One day, I portaged a canoe 15 times, a record for me.  Those trips mattered.

What will happen the next decade, if I make it that far?  I don’t know.  Perhaps the distance may stay the same, if my arms and legs are still working well, but I suspect it will decrease, and it won’t matter.  I still hope to be in the woods, away from people, enjoying the quiet, the Pileated Woodpecker’s crossing the lake by the campsite, loons, sunrise, sunset, and full Moon.

What about backpacking?  There, the clock ticks louder.  As I write this, I will soon leave for my sixth multi-day trip to the Brooks Range.  On my fifth, I carried 75 pounds with difficulty, but I did it.  I wasn’t sure I would do a sixth.  But then you see there was this trip offered to the Wulik Mountains in the far west Brooks, country I hadn’t seen, wonderful, wild country, and maybe I had one more trip in me after all.  Or two more, since I want to see ANWR’s Sheenjek’s River drainage.  Each year, backpacking requires more training.  Six weeks prior, I start carrying 25 pounds around the neighborhood, then 35, the 50, and finally 60.  This year, after hiking a lot more in spring, I started at 50 pounds, and I’ve carried that weight the past month.  I can comfortably walk 3 miles with it, essential if I want to complete the trip and enjoy it.  Ten years ago, I didn’t need to train.  Now I do.

Arrigetch Peaks on my way out of the area, August 2007, age 58

Arrigetch Peaks on my way out of the area, August 2007, age 58.  It mattered that I see these peaks, which had fascinated me for decades.

Dall Sheep, Aichilik River, ANWR, June, 2009.  Age 60. This afternoon mattered.

Dall Sheep, Aichilik River, ANWR, June, 2009. Age 60. This afternoon mattered.

Cubs, Noatak River campsite, August 2010, age 61. This day mattered

Cubs, Noatak River campsite, August 2010, age 61. This day mattered

 

Fording the Noatak, August 8, 2010. Age 61.  My guide said that day, "I hope I can do this when I am 61."  He was 51.

Fording the Noatak, August 8, 2010. Age 61. My guide said that day, “I hope I can do this when I am 61.” He was 51.

Gates of the Arctic, 2012, carrying 75 pounds.  This trip mattered. Age 63

Gates of the Arctic, 2012, carrying 75 pounds. This trip mattered. Age 63

My body isn’t betraying me, but changing, and my brain with its desires is fortunately changing, too.  I rely more upon experience than brute strength.  I read the weather well, pack dry in a pouring rain without leaving the tent, then striking the tent and quickly finish, putting the pack cover on a dry pack.  Alaska just is, with a lot of rain, mosquitoes and tussocks.  Fortunately, I know how to hike there.  That itself is probably worth 25 years of age.

My guess is that I will slow down in the next decade but will still enjoy what I do.  I look back fondly on the times when I was really good, especially the difficult trips, for that is what one remembers.  Age does matter.  I am grateful for what I can do, hope I will like it just as much during the coming changes, as I add more to my wonderful wilderness portfolio.

You see, I feel blessed.  Not a lot of guys my age can hike the Hardesty Loop.  I did it for time.  That’s pretty cool.  The fact I tried did matter.

It only hurt a little that night.

TIME TO TEACH ABOUT MONEY

July 28, 2014

I saw a Dave Ramsey quotation: “Identify your motivation and your passion.  Find what you’re good at and become world-class in that area.”

The term “world class” is overused, and I think harmful, making average people like me feel they are failures.  Indeed, most of us are average.  World class should apply to Olympians, bicycle riders in Le Tour de France, Nobel laureates, best seller writers, and those young people who competed at the IAAF Track Meet I saw today, a few young people who truly are at the top of what they do.

Mr. Ramsey would have done well to have removed the words and replaced them with something like “the best you can possibly be”.  That is achievable.  World class is not.  In standardized math tests when I was young, I was at the 99th percentile.  That is fine, except that if there were 10 million students, 100,000 of them were as good or better than I, making me hardly world class.

Where Mr. Ramsey does help is with people who hate their jobs and are poor.  Suze Orman does the same thing.  Both are good; both are rich; both are famous and charismatic.  It would be nice to be charismatic, but one has to have the wiring.  It isn’t in me.  What I am wired for, however, is math, and I am very opinionated about what we ought to be doing about it.

Key issues today are student loans, houses underwater, insufficient retirement savings, and too many having to live on Social Security, which it was never intended to do.  A frightening number of people go bankrupt each year, because we have a subpar health insurance and medical care system in this country.  Very few hospitals are “world class,” and saying “Centers of Excellence” does not bring it.  Having been on the medical quality front lines, I think I have a notion of what world class might mean, and we are a long, long way from there at the moment.  But we can address the financial issues that people face.

We ought to be starting early, in the schools.  That won’t cure the problem, but in a generation or two, it would help a lot.  Dealing with finances means dealing with ….uh oh…..numbers and math.  Yes.  If one cannot understand numbers and math, basic math, there is no way one can understand finance.  This means that students must be held back from moving to the next grade until they understand the math necessary for the current grade level.  If that means that we slow down education to a crawl, and people howl, then let it be so.  Let’s do it right, learning one basic lesson of math right away:  if you grade children and adults on certain measures, there will be attempts to game the system and make the person or school look good.  This happened in Atlanta.  If 80% of the students coming to a local community college, which happened in Tucson, have to take remedial math, what exactly were we—and they and their parents— doing for the prior 12 years?

It is time to be honest with math (and other subjects, too).  If students can’t pass basic arithmetic, let’s figure out how to get them to learn enough to pass, not game the system, from the teacher’s side and not play “how clever can I be?” from the tester’s side.  Certainly, we ought to have enough smart people in academics who know what should be mastered at each grade level.  Students are going to need algebra and geometry, too, but basic arithmetic is absolutely fundamental to understanding algebra, and math builds on itself.  Fail at the bottom, and there is no way anybody is going to suddenly jump to the top.  Other subjects build, too, but few as strongly as does math.

What good does it talk about an emergency fund of $1000, if the concept of a thousand is not understood?  Indeed, one of the big problems we face in this country is that few in Congress can comprehend what a billion or trillion is.  Comprehension of these numbers is not easy, but it is both essential to know and may be learned.

Students need to learn about interest, where the formulas come from, then simple rules for remembering them.  Trust me, one will use it.  They need to learn the difference between “the rate of increase” is slowing and “it is decreasing”.  These two are not understood by the majority of students I have taught.  They need to know the difference between an average and a median. They MUST be able to work with multiplication tables automatically.  This cannot be given over to a calculator or be googled.  One has to memorize it.  Learn something well, and it is no longer memorized.  It becomes innate.

I don’t have the answers to learning math.  I do know, however, one place where math would become interesting to students and worthwhile: dealing with finance.  Everybody wants money.  Everybody wants things.  Dealing with money requires dealing with numbers.  Frankly, if we could teach children enough math so that they could deal with basic finance, we’d be way ahead of the concepts we think we should be teaching them.  I could live without teaching many kids algebra if they knew enough division that they knew that 24% interest rates on credit cards led to doubling of debt in 3 years.   If they could multiply by 52, they could figure out how much money they spend annually by eating out once a week.  If they could multiply by $2000, they would know what dollars per hour wages equalled in a year.

This isn’t and should not be America’s goal for teaching math in the 21st century.  We have to go far beyond what I have stated.  But if the millions of kids who can’t make change, can’t comparison shop, don’t know what a mortgage is, or understand the basics of investment can learn to deal with these matters, even on a rudimentary level, we would be a lot better off than we are today.  I would rather see an improvement for millions than wait for perfection that will never come.  No, Mr. Ramsey, these millions aren’t anywhere near world class.  They just need to pass the class of basic material THAT EVERY CITIZEN SHOULD KNOW.

Want kids to understand math?  They need to work with, and understand, numbers.  To me, the best place to start is with finance.