Oh! Somewhere in this favored land the sun is shining bright; the band is playing somewhere and somewhere hearts are light, and somewhere men are laughing and somewhere children shout; but there is no joy in Mudville — mighty Casey has struck out.  ~Ernest Lawrence Thayer, 1906

Today is the 37th anniversary of the creation of rule 6.10 of Major League Baseball, forever changing the game.  The rule is more widely known by its popular name, the Designated Hitter Rule.  Prior to this rule, every team knew that the god-like pitching arm that devastated their batting order would eventually have to take his turn at home plate.  Indeed, it was a rarity in baseball to find a man whose sinewy arm not only launched lightning-filled strikes but could also hit anything worthy from the plate.  It was considered an easy out for both teams…

Although it does not sound like Casey was a pitcher by trade, it sounds rather un-American for a player in any sport to be allowed to step aside, to shirk what appears to be his turn at a team effort, simply because of an inability to accomplish greatness while taking his turn, right?  After all, if I were to pull forth one of Major League Baseball’s greatest (and most well-known) historical home-run hitters, it would be a pitcher.  Before taking the mantle of home-run guru, Babe Ruth began his career as a pitcher for the Red Sox.

While the actual Designated Hitter rule is not all that old, calls for the rule are almost as old as the professional form of America’s game.  Blame it on the groans from the stands whenever a gangly mustachioed pitcher walked up, clumsily winding his bat in little circles, or the worried, held breaths from those same fans while watching an incredible arm sliding home.

“The best case for the Designated Hitter is this: It represents that rarest of things, the triumph of evidence over ideology. The anti-DH ideology is that there should be no specialization in baseball, no division of labor: Everyone should play “the whole game.” That theory is obliterated by this fact: Specialization is a fact with or without the Designated Hitter. Most pitchers only go through the motions at bat.” – George F. Will

Those standing against the rule reason that many sports have specializations within them, in order to obtain and allow for the best skills of the players to be utilized.  Training can be targeted to best suit those skill-sets, and older, injury-prone players such as Edgar Martinez were (and are) allowed to continue their careers as designated hitters.  After all, not everyone has to take a turn on the pitcher’s mound too, right?

“There’s no doubt in my mind that the game of baseball in all its beauty and entirety is the National League game. I would kick the Designated Hitter out so quick it would make your head spin.”  ~ Tony La Russa

In reply to this split in philosophy, Rule 6.10 has only been utilized by the American League, while the National League leaves their pitchers in the batting lineup, same as always.  And in response to this, the batting averages of teams in the American League have risen higher over time.  There are a variety of rules pertaining to using Rule 6.10, including that the designated hitter must be formally stated before a game begins in order to use him, the DH cannot play a field position, and cannot be replaced with anyone else in the formal lineup.

However you feel about the use of designated hitters in baseball, we all come to a point in our professional (and even personal) lives when we are overwhelmed with responsibilities.  The better we are at doing something, the more likely we will have additional duties placed on our shoulders. As the quote goes, “The reward for hard work is hard work.”  And just as a pitcher in the National League dreads the weight of another likely unsuccessful at-bat, if we do not learn to delegate some of our work, we may begin to dread facing our responsibilities at all.

So in commemoration of the anniversary of Major League Baseball Rule 6.10, as well as in honor of the Mudville 9 honored in Thayer’s beautiful poem, I offer 9 tips to keep you from striking out when attempting to delegate your workload to others….

How to delegate your work

1. Personally visit and talk things over with some of the coworkers you think might actually be willing to take on the additional work you give them.  Don’t email – do this in person, so you can actually determine from their body language their desire.  Write down the names of all interested parties.
2. Determine the skill-set of each person you spoke with.  Mull over in your mind what it is they do, as well as skills they might have but currently don’t use.  What are their interests?  Be sure to work to your new team-mates’ strengths.  Do your best to ensure that the task(s) you give over will help others grow new skills and confidence, which you can then turn around and build on further with additional tasks.
3. Make sure that you are not putting together people who have difficulty working together.  Personality issues in (or even out) of the workplace will carry over to your projects if you create a bad environment for your team.  The price for ignoring this is a failed project, which gets reassigned back to you, of course…
4. Ensure you create mile-markers, and take the time to ensure your team is correctly handling the assignments.  Find out if they have any questions and provide answers.
5. Don’t micro-manage the work, or demand it be done in the way you would’ve done it (unless it has to be based on specifications.)  Allow your new team to create their own processes in which to complete the job, and don’t be afraid to make these processes your own as well.
6. Be sure that you have taken the time to discuss the scope of authority for the tasks to be done.  You always want your helpers to know that although authority can be delegated to do jobs, responsibility cannot, and that you are ultimately held to the quality of their work.  It is imperative that they not overstep the boundaries of the work, to ensure its success and compliance with dictates handed to you in the first place from the higher-ups.
7. When choosing your team, avoid the appearance of favoritism.  Don’t hire all of your friends to help you, as this will not only tick of your other co-workers, but also could lead to disastrous results.  If your friends fail in helping you or overstep their boundaries, it will likely strain your personal relationship with them.
8. When the work is complete, you had better not forget to provide ample congratulations and thank yous to the team, or expect them to politely say no the next time you ask for more help…
9. This is an important one.  Many a delegator has become so good at what they do, that they find themselves out of a job.  Sure, it would be nice to come into work each and every day and simply tell your co-workers how to do your work.  But your are not the boss.  And you don’t want your boss to recognize that you are no longer the one doing your work.  After all, what a financial savings to let you go and allow your co-workers to continue performing your duties!

Good luck in trying these out yourself!  I am certain that if you take these 9 steps to heart and properly follow them, your workplace will not find itself divided as baseball finds itself, and you will be able to take that workplace mantle of the Mighty Casey (sans strike-out, of course…)  Perhaps if Casey had been a pitcher he could’ve gotten a designated hitter….

Amidst the hustle bustle of the Holiday season, whether shopping for Hanukkah or Christmas (or like me – both,) finding the time to primp and prepare your hair, your face, your home and your family for the arrival of relatives, loved ones and mortal enemies, where do we find time for yourselves?

Today begins what is known as the Halcyon Days, a period starting one week before the Winter Solstice and ending one week after.  Mythology ties this period to both an agreed settling down of Nature’s forces itself and, during a time when we were so much more tied to Mother Earth, of ourselves.

The origin of the term

In ancient Greek Mythology, Aeolus was god of the winds, worshiped and feared by sailors for rough seas or withheld gusts.  His daughter was the beautiful Alcyone, who fell in love with a mortal, a seafaring king by the name of Ceyx.  During a particularly rough sea passage, Ceyx’s ship sunk, dragging him under to the depths.  Distraught, Alcyone (or Halcyone) dove in after him and disappeared.

Because of the love that Halcyone showed for Ceyx, the gods were touched, and decided to transform the two of them into birds, so they could always be together in flight, safely above the rough seas.  Aeolus agreed to maintain the seas calm for a two-week period each year, enabling Halcyone and Ceyx to nest on the water and lay eggs.  The myth is tied to the Kingfisher bird, from the Greek Hals (the Sea) and Kuo (Brood on,) although the bird actually breeds in the Spring, and nests near the water, not on it.

What Halcyon Days means today

To this day, the myth of the two airborne lovers persists with sailors, who know the end of December as the Halcyon Days, tied to a period of calmer seas and good fishing.  In modern times, the term Halcyon Days is used to describe the “good old days,” or times in the past when the going was good, or easier for us.

Of course we can relax a bit when the Holiday season is over, and we are surrounded by opened boxes and dirty plates.  Everyone has finally gone back home, and we can finally quit sucking in our gut and wipe all that makeup off.  We can get that great outfit drycleaned and hung back up, and contemplate how to lose those extra pounds.  But what about now?  How do we find a way to calm the tumultuous currents we are experiencing now, before the guests arrive?

10 relaxation techniques

From WebMD, I found 10 practical methods of relaxing, and will paraphrase them here, along with some of my own advice…

1. Meditate - Any form of repetitive, calming exercise can be considered a form of meditation.  This would include taking short (or long) strolls, or swimming laps in a pool.  You could draw or paint, knit or bake.  Just find something you know in the past has made your inner storms calm down.
2. Picture Yourself Relaxed - Find the most comfy pajamas you have, and put them on.  Your favorite perfume or cologne? Yes.  A scented candle? Even better.  Lie down or relax on a comfy couch, and imagine yourself somewhere relaxing.  If you can purchase a CD with sounds from that environment, Mazel Tov.  Imagine yourself there as strongly as you can, and let your mind wander for a bit.
3. Breathe Deeply – When we are under a lot of stress, our bodies react as though we are under physical duress, shortening breaths and preparing us for that instinctive Fight or Flight response.  Take a big ol’ deep breath, using as much of your body as you can.  Breathe in deeply and let it all out slowly.  Relax your core muscle group and repeat the breathing exercise at least 10 times, feeling the tension melt away with each breath.
4. Look Around You – This can be done in conjunction with meditating or breathing.  Simply open up your mind and stop thinking about what you are worried about.  Focus on things around you.  If you are walking, this is the part where you actually notice the roses before you smell them.  Look all around, and think about what you are seeing right now.
5. Drink Hot Tea - Caffeine is a stimulant. Duh.  If you are trying to relax, stop drinking it and move over to decaf.  How about a nice herbal tea, like chamomile, or black tea, which has cortisol in it, a stress-reliever.  Practice a bit of the previous steps while enjoying your tea…
6. Show Some Love - Find a loved one or a pet and snuggle up.  Studies have shown that sharing physical contact with others in a social environment lowers both blood pressure and stress hormones.
7. Self-Massage – Try rubbing your back, your neck, your shoulders.  Or better yet, get one of those Shiatzu massaging pillows and lie down with it.  Close your eyes and practice #2 (above.)
8. Take a Time-Out – Whenever things are getting really bad, take some time to go somewhere and relax.  In the mall? Go get a pretzel (I know, they have lots of calories…) or put the bags you have so far in the trunk and walk around outside the mall for awhile.
9. Try a Musical Detour – Turn on soft, relaxing music while you are busy.  Research shows that 30 minutes of classical music has the same calming effect as 10 mg of Valium.
10. Take an Attitude Break - Instead of closing your eyes, keep ‘em open while working and think about pleasant things, such as obtaining something you are working towards, when you met your spouse, or a previous vacation.

As a goddess, Alcyone could not control what her mortal lover Ceyx did.  He had to be who he was, and I am sure it was stressful for Alcyone to see him being tossed about on the ocean.  We can’t control everything going on around us, but we can control how we deal with it.  So go find some candles and soft music, put on the PJs and get the massager.  You are worth it, you know…

While plunging headfirst into your Holiday preparations, try adding in some of these techniques, and see if your mental load lightens a bit, and some of that Holiday cheer comes back into your life, to carry you aloft.  Let me know which techniques worked the best for you, and what you did to improve on them.

Happy Holidays, and may you find calm seas upon which to hatch new ideas…

Steve

Fourth Earl of Sandwich, John Montagu

As the story goes, John Montagu, the 4th Earl of Sandwich, was playing cards one night in 1782 with other muckety-mucks, something he did quite often. Getting hungry but not wanting to stop and eat a proper meal (hence interrupting what was a very good game,) Montagu asked his valet that some sliced meat be brought to him, stuck between two slices of bread so he wouldn’t get his fingers greasy. The other players, noting the request, stated aloud “I’ll have the same as Sandwich!” This story was first noted in 1770, and has had a lot of runtime since, although never proven to be true. But I love unproven stories… National Sandwich Day is celebrated today, in honor of Montagu’s birth on Nov. 3rd, 1718.

History of the Sandwich

The sandwich is the original mashup. The concept of putting meat and bread together in one form or another has been around for a very long time. In the 1st Century Rabbi Hillel enjoyed a thick mixture of nuts, apples, spice and wine between layers of unleavened matzot bread. This was eaten alongside the traditional bitter herbs to commemorate Passover, and to this day is called the “Hillel Sandwich.”

Dining in the Middle Ages

In the 6th Century, tavern-goers in the Middle Ages would eat meat with sauces on large, thick slices of stale bread, open-faced sandwiches known as Trenchers. The hard bread sopped up the sauces and softened to an edible state, at which point it was either eaten, tossed to dogs, or given to beggars. In Northern European countries, softer versions of bread were layered with butters and carefully sliced meats, likely an early predecessor to the English version of the modern sandwich.

What was a sandwich called before it got its current name? Up to the 16th Century, the combination of bread and meat was called, well, bread and meat. I suppose it wasn’t imaginative, but it did the job…

The Sandwich Arrives in America

Elizabeth Leslie

How did the sandwich make its way to America? In 1840 Englishwoman Elizabeth Leslie wrote a cookbook called Directions for Cookery wherein she introduced a recipe for a ham sandwich. Really? A recipe? For a ham sandwich? Elizabeth suggested the sandwich as a main dish. That must’ve been one heck of a sandwich. Ham was typically used in American sandwiches, as it was much easier to come across than beef, which was more prevalent in England.

During the Industrial Revolution, as bread-making and meat preserving became more prevalent, sandwiches became the oft-chosen lunch option for workers, as it was quick, easy and relatively inexpensive. The early versions typically included some form of sliced vegetable, meat, and even cheese. On July 7, 1928 the Chillicothe Baking Company began marketing pre-sliced wrapped bread loaves, and the sandwich positively took off…. (Note: The Wonder Bread Company is oft-credited as inventing sliced bread first, in 1930. Not true – they are the first to market it nationally.)

Army C Rations

During the Temperance movement, barkeeps worked hard to keep customers coming despite the growing ban on alcohol, offering free sandwiches with drinks, thus furthering its popularity. As workers commuted greater distances to work, train stations began selling sandwiches to weary travelers, who scooped them up rather than consider making dinner so late in the early evening.

In World War II, soldiers would put together the canned or otherwise packaged peanut butter, jellies and bread they found in their C Rations and invented the PB&J. Returning home from war, the soldiers shared their favorite sandwich with their growing children, and a perennial American favorite was born.

What is Legally a Sandwich?

Not legally a sandwich...

Believe it or not, in 2006 the Superior Court of Boston, Massachusetts had to rule what a sandwich is. A shopping mall had lured a sandwich shop as a vendor, with the provision that the mall management would not allow another “sandwich shop” to set up a storefront in the mall. Along came a burrito stand, and the sandwich shop challenged their right to set up shop. A judge had to determine what the legal definition of a “sandwich” was, and after much thought, ruled that a sandwich is composed of at least two slices of bread, Because no burritos (or tacos, chimichangas, wraps or pitas) may claim this title, the sandwich shop owner lost his challenge.

Sandwiches Around the World

Regional variations on the sandwich (legal definition aside) include the Vietnamese Bahn Mi, Chilean Barros, Pakistan’s Bun Kebab, Germany’s Butterbrot, English Chip Butty, Uruguayan Chivito, New York Hero, Philadelphia Cheesesteak, Greek Gyro, Chinese Shaobing Youtiao and more. Seems there is no shortage of the idea to combine bread with something good. Breads are either sliced, wrapped, or covered in a dough and boiled, fried or baked along with their fillings. In many cultures, much as it is in American, the sandwich and its many variations are the staple luncheon fare.

The incredible but inedible Dagwoo

The Impossible and Improbable Dagwood

Hey, you can’t write something about the history of the sandwich without including the Dagwood, a concoction created by Chic Young and featured in Blondie, his comic strip. The original mention of the Dagwood included beef tongue, onion, mustard, sardine, beans and horseradish. Yum. You know, beans as a sandwich additive are certainly under-represented.

Over the years, more and more was added to the Dagwood, reaching epic proportions. If life truly is like a sandwich, and the more we add the better it gets, then the Dagwood reminds us of the joys received in biting off more than we can chew…

The Clemmie Gill School of Science and Conservation

SCICON, the Science and Conservation camp nestled in the foothills of California’s Sierra Nevada mountain range since 1950, provides to local students an immersion course in nature conservancy, far from city life and amenities.  Prior to leaving for SCICON, all technology is eschewed by the 6th grade students, a fact that with each passing year brings ever-louder groans, as they sadly set aside the cell phone, PSP, Nintendo DS and iPod at home.

For 5 days under beautiful, open skies, students are led by interns on long hikes, where they learn about predator/prey relationships, nature’s fire cycle, area flora and fauna, recycling, composting, and man’s relationship to nature.  Fireside chats and performances draw laughter almost nightly, as children drew nearer to each other, drawing comfort in each other, away from the hungry mosquitoes.  And there are songs, always songs to be sung…

A Life of Connections, a Life of Distancing

My life is spent connected.  I am online all day as a function of my job, and after homework is complete, my children have spent many an hour chasing after avatars in Disney’s ToonTown while I look up a recipe for dinner.  Into the late evenings, my fiancée and I like to find out what our connections are up to on FaceBook, and I connect as much as I can on Twitter, play more than I would like to admit, and blog away.  Am I too nestled, too comfortable?  Just how near do I draw to others, when I’m in my online world?

Born in 1889, 61-year-old Irvy Elster lived in the hills above SCICON in a cabin of his own construction, by a flagpole upon which he was known to fly a pair of ragged, red long underwear, likely to help him locate his home after long days in his many hand-dug quartz mines.  Irvy was a hermit, speaking to nobody for months on end, except when he came into town to sell his quartz and purchase supplies.  I am sure his rare visits caused quite a stir, as townsfolk gawked and mothers pushed their gaping children along.  And I am also sure that Irvy wanted nothing more than to get back home again when done shopping, to his familiar places…

Becoming Social Hermits?

I have always been fearful that the Internet would stifle my social life, that my online relationships would be shallow and short-lived.  I was basically concerned that with all of this connectivity from home and my propensity to shyness, I might wind up an Internet hermit.  Would I peel myself from the keyboard only to scramble for short jaunts to the grocery store, throwing together a hodgepodge of bare necessities and snack foods, thrumming my fingers on the shopping cart as I waited in the too-long line?  Would I forget to actually go places and meet people in person?  Would I develop social ineptitude to such a depth that I too would be gawked at when about town?  Would it bother me if anyone got too close?

SCICON was built far enough away from the rest of us to mentally remove the students attending from civilization, so they could focus on the beauty of nature all around.  It was this desire for remoteness that brought it so close to Irvy Elster’s cabin, and into his life.  For so many decades Irvy had been used to being alone, just as he had wanted it.  He knew how to handle the foxes, the bears, the mountain lions, even cold and snowy winters.  Life had been rough; nobody knew how Irvy had lost his leg, but everyone was aware that the wooden replacement was hand-carved and self-installed.  It was considered best to leave him alone, and Irvy had no problem helping to propagate that belief.

Walking Away From Familiarity

After arriving upon SCICON, Irvy wandered its outskirts, around the new cabins, staring suspiciously at the wooden bridges placed over streams and rough-hewn dining hall.  But what pulled Irvy in from the invisible boundary separating his world from theirs was the children.  Hundreds of bright, smiling faces, listening carefully as interns and teachers spoke reverently of the forest, animals, flowers, skies and stars.  Children were told to be careful among the fragile, newly-emerging saplings, to pick up and examine the scat and attempt to name the animal that had deposited it, to identify tracks on the ground, to classify the flowering plants all around.  This was not a world encroaching on his own; no, this was his world slowly, surely, finding its way into the hearts of these young ones.

Irvy carefully let his presence be known, and the children grew to love his presence.  He visited SCICON often, eating with the children in the dining hall, loudly regaling them with stories of his time in the hills above.  He shared his knowledge of the plant life, the habits of both the smaller, skittish animals and larger, dangerous predators.  He led the children on hikes to his cabin and mines, letting them pick quartz from them.  In short, Irvy Elster became a fixture of SCICON.

Irvy passed away in 1965, and was buried in the neighboring Springville cemetery.  To this day, the favorite trail in SCICON is the Sky Trail, a 2 1/2 mile hike into the wilderness above SCICON, to what is now known as the Hermit’s Cabin, and to the nearby quartz mines, where children search for wayward pieces of loose quartz and ponder on the once-lonely life of the man who moved away from what he knew, joining in with the happy voices of the world around him…

Social Media as the Less-Walked Path

Today has two holidays that weave together so well… It is both the Anniversary of the Internet, and Hermit Day.  What I have discovered about Social Media is quite the opposite of what I feared, but only because I wanted it so, and steadily worked toward it.  Social Media and the Internet in general has become, to me, a method to share who I am, and to learn from so many others.  Each and every day I mine the steady stream of news, blog posts, e-zine articles, and daily lives of hundreds of others.  I revel in the very personal photos shared with all, the thrown-together poetry of child-rearing and broken hearts, the one-liners and pleas from all sides to join in another cause.

In Social Media there is a mountain of love to climb and build one’s home upon, and the laughing voices carry from all directions.  After taking the time to scout out and understand what was going on, I am so happy that I left my worries behind, and joined in the fun.  Oh, I have so many stories to tell, too…

Fear shoved my entire body forward one inch, chest first, as I heaved a heavy, loud breath.  The gasp did its job, breaking my paralysis and turning my mind back on.  My legs carried me around the first bend, as I trod through now-ankle-deep water flowing outward into every nook and cranny, each filled with electrical cabling, switches and equipment, shouting all the while “Flooding, flooding!” at the top of my lungs.

An older chief, known for his light-hearted joviality, rushed past me, now serious and wide-eyed in fear, rapidly unlatching and closing the hatch that separated the forward compartment from the one with the massive missile tubes and accompanying crew’s quarters.  As the door was shoved shut, I could see through its narrowing opening a variety of still-sleepy crewmembers leaning out of their bunkrooms, some bolting out semi-nude and dressing in the hall, fumbling in unlaced boots to their battle stations.  As the old chief turned to face me, both of us trapped in the affected forward compartment, I could hear the rush of the water still coming down the stairs….

Today is Navy Day, a set-aside if you please to ponder on our first military branch, our sea-borne projection of power (and hope for peace) around the World.  It is a day to think about the engineering marvels we put on and under the World’s oceans, and the incredible men and women who serve on them.

Basic Training

I celebrated in silence my 23^rd birthday on the first day that I showed up in Orlando, Florida for Basic Training, not wanting to draw one iota of attention to myself.  As soon as we arrived, our personal items were looked through for contraband, and stored until we finished boot camp, as nothing was needed but our bodies and minds for the ordeal ahead.  Names were called, and we rapidly were assembled into groups by bored staffers, then led to and bunked down for the night in large rooms on squeaky, lumpy beds.  Over the next few days we were given immunizations, filled out piles of paperwork, were measured and weighed for proper clothing, and issued workout gear.

The U. S. Navy processes over 54,000 new recruits through its facility at Lake Michigan (the Orlando facility shut its doors years ago,) with much of the training occurring indoors, including marching, drills, confidence courses and weapons training.  Recruits must learn Navy conduct and values, the various parts of a seaworthy vessel, how to properly care for their bunk and clothing, and how to survive tortuous physical exercise, all the while living under the constant scrutiny of two Company Commanders, men and women with an eagle eye for weakness and non-assimilative attitudes.  Additionally during the 8-week course, recruits give up smoking, eat, sleep, shower and use the restroom by strict schedules, learn to swim, handle fire hoses, and fight their way out of a tear-gas filled room.  In boot camp, you learn to work as a team, the value of supporting each other and making sure all get through an ordeal.

While serving my basic training, it was noted that I had a keen ability to learn the large assemblage of trivia provided to us during long, hot training sessions.  Fighting off the urge to fall asleep like so many others, I took concise notes, and utilized rapidly-drawn illustrations to bring concepts together.  One of my Company Commanders noted this, and after a short conference with his partner, informed me that I would be in charge of follow-up training for my company of over 70 men.  I spent hours drawing ships at varying angles and labeling the parts (forecastle, port, starboard, quarterdeck, stern, rudder, keel, cleats, etc) while the rest of my Company scrubbed and polished the floors.  They did not seem to mind the disparity in jobs, as our Company’s academic awards rolled in, providing for a loosening of restrictions against us by our Commanders.

“A” Schools

Following the 8-week basic training course, many sailors are sent to short-term training environments, or “A” Schools, each with an area of emphasis, depending on what field of work you are entering.  It’s important to iron down, in writing with your recruiter, what job you are going into when enlisting in the military, or you may find yourself unpleasantly surprised at this point.  Before enlisting, I had obtained a rock-solid guarantee that I would be entering the Navy to become a Nuclear Machinist Mate, which meant that on whatever vessel I was stationed, I would ultimately be tasked to watch over, maintain and repair the propulsion-related equipment of the nuclear reactors and engine rooms.  For the next 3 months I attended the Nuclear Field A School for Machinist’s Mates, where I learned how to use those tools used in an engineering setting, from your run-of-the-mill wrenches, hammers and screwdrivers to bearing presses, pressure switches, micrometers, calipers and depth gages.  I also gained knowledge of how to transition to the rigors of boot camp to the somewhat more relaxed environment of navy training.

Advanced Training Schools

Although many sailors move from A School to their first at-sea assignment, there are a number of fields in the U.S. Navy that require advanced training in order to perform in them.  Navy Cryptographers, Sonar Operators, Missile Technicians, Torpedo men, Nurses, SEALs and those operating the nuclear reactor equipment are among those that must attend this additional instruction.   After completion of my A School, I went on to the Naval Nuclear Propulsion Training Unit in Orlando for 6 months of intensive training in what is billed as one of the most difficult educational environments in America (a whopping 40% drop-out rate.)  During my tenure, I completed rapid-fire courses in physics, metallurgy, reactor plant thermodynamics, and more.  There were weekly tests administered, late night cramming sessions every night for most, and an even looser after-school environment.

Advanced training can often include hands-on learning environments, to ensure knowledge level, and provide for more tactile learners.  After Power School, I headed to Nuclear Prototype for 6 more months, oddly enough to the deserts of Idaho’s National Engineering Laboratory.  I rode a bus for almost 3 hours in each direction daily, sleeping against a cold window.  I studied continuously, seeking clarification from staff members, and performed a variety of tasks in the A1W Nuclear Prototype plant, which was essentially a fully-functioning replica of one of the engine rooms from the U.S.S. Enterprise, replete with reactor plant and steam-driven propulsion system.  I did so well that I was picked up as a staff member, and served there for 2 more additional years, enjoying the rarity of shore duty before time at sea…

Surface or Submarine Assignments

Nearing the end of one’s initial training, sailors are given the opportunity to decide whether or not to become surface sailors or submariners.  Where one actually serves is almost entirely taken out of your hands, but a sailor is provided a few requests and a prayer…  I decided from day one that I wanted to hide out under the waves in the silent service, as a submariner.  And in particular, I wanted to serve on the Cadillac of submarines, an Ohio Class Nuclear Ballistic Missile Submarine.  And as luck would have it, that is exactly what I got.

The Navy has a variety of types (or classes) of vessels in use: Aircraft carriers, Cruisers, Destroyers, Frigates, Corvettes, Patrol Vessels, Minor Surface Combatants, Mine Warfare Vessels and Amphibious Warfare Vessels.  Each has a very specific set of armaments, compartments, propulsion capabilities, and working surfaces to perform its job.  The ships that project the most power are the Aircraft Carriers, capable of launching a variety of heavily-armed advanced fighters airborne at a moment’s notice.  Working in tandem with other classes of vessels, it is almost impossible to attack and/or destroy a modern American Aircraft Carrier.

Interestingly enough, my first (and only sea duty command,) the U.S.S. Nevada, is considered only to be a Minor Surface Combatant, despite its array of advanced torpedoes and 24 Trident II D-5 nuclear missiles, each capable of carrying up to 8 individual warheads.  It’ll do a lot more damage than any fleet of navy jets, but of course is maintained as a weapon of last resort, as it should.  It is the modern equivalent of the big stick President Theodore Roosevelt alluded to, but hidden away under the ever-moving ocean waves.  Our job as submariners was to get underwater, transit unnoticed to a predetermined sector of the ocean, and make very large figure eights while staying as quiet as possible.  It is said that to find an American ballistic missile submarine, one has to look for quiet spots in the ocean, little black holes of noiselessness back dropped against the cacophonic clicking of krill and other sea life.

Underway

I spent five years stationed on the Nevada, spending a total of 2 years underwater.  Patrols were around 2 ½ months in duration, monotony broken by the almost-daily drill schedule of pretend fires, floods, hydraulic leaks, reactor SCRAMs (loss of reactor power,) steam leaks and any other disasters dreamed up by our supervisors to keep us alert and knowledgeable.  We had half-way parties filled with pizza and king crab legs, held ugly beard contests, watched movies incessantly, and drank tankards of coffee.  And we spent long hours at our watch stations, thinking about those still at home while cleaning, painting, making adjustments to equipment, and logging activity.  Showers were short and unconvincing, but one of the few bastions of alone time we got.

While underway I crawled all over the inside of the submarine (or boat as we called it,) learning how to shut down and restart systems vital to survival.  I qualified to supervise operations in the reactor plant and engine room, helped cooked breakfast in the galley when fancy struck me, learned to cut hair and performed for a time as ship’s barber, clipping many a head prior to pulling into shore at San Diego or Hawaii.  I hung out with all variety of sailors on board, learning a bit about their jobs, their families, their lives.  I explored the philosophical values of a variety of individuals while standing watch, and learned the value of liberal thought and acceptance.  In short, I had a good time underway.

Finishing Where We Started

For certain, I could regale you with so many stories from my time in the Navy, but this is a blog, not a book….  I’ll end with the one I started at the beginning:

While on my very first patrol, I served galley duty, as all new sailors have to do.  We were transiting out from Alameda through an area known as the “Potato Patch” due to its exceptionally rough waters.  It was mid-November, and the sea churned admirably, causing half of the crew to lie down at their watch stations, between throwing up in trash cans.  The ship’s doctor was busy handing out motion sickness pills while admonishing everyone for not visiting him before the transit out.  The Nevada was buttoned up tight for the journey out of the bay with the exception of the conning tower, which had its hatch open a full 75 feet above the missile deck, and wherein stood the officer of the deck, an old crusty chief and a brand new fresh-out-of-boot-camp sailor.

As the submarine maneuvered on the surface, the boat steered in a manner that drove it over a very massive swell, lurching the front of the submarine up and then down, under the crest of the following wave.  The propeller (or screw) pulled slightly out of the water, cavitating momentarily.  As soon as the submarine bit into the oncoming wave, the propeller caught again, and pushed the submarine down, a full thirty feet over the open hatch and the heads of the three surprised men.

The Officer of the Deck held tightly to the lip of the opening atop the conning tower and held his breath, as he watched the young seaman momentarily suspended overhead in the water, as the old chief held his hand, one hand tightly gripped the edge of the opening.  And as soon as the wave passed over, it pulled away again, and the water level dropped almost 100 feet, exposing once again the conning tower and occupants.  The chief never let go of the sailor, who went over the edge of the tower and hit the edge of it with a thud, quickly pulled back in as everyone coughed and sputtered wildly.

During the submersion, a thick, brackish column of water shot through the open hatch into the conning tower and down the stairs, right by the tiny compartment I was working in, smashing trash to shoot out later in deeper waters.  After the chief closed the compartment hatch to isolate the damage to our compartment, I noted many small calamari littering the floor of the path.  Everyone in the forward compartment rushed to and fro in preparation for significant damage, as nobody knew what had happened yet.  After the men came below and the conning tower hatch was secured, the compartment hatches were reopened, and we all got to work mopping up and drying the water.  A few in their haste to control the water from causing damage in the torpedo room pulled mattresses from bunk rooms and put them on the floor and over the stowed torpedoes, much to the dismay of the individuals who had been previously sleeping on them.  It was a mess for weeks, as we continued to find salt deposits in obscure locations.

The flooding incident was one of the more exciting adventures that took place on the Nevada.  Perhaps as the months progress, a few more might make their way out of me…

Today is National Mule Day, a day to celebrate an animal that science says should never have happened.  Mules are the product of cross-breeding an ass (Equus Asinus) and a female horse (Equus Caballus,) two animals whose genetic disposition scientifically works against actually producing offspring.  All males (Jacks) are born infertile, and most females (Hinnies) are as well.  Fertile females are known as Mollies, and are extremely rare (only 60 documented cased since 1527.)  Because female horses come in a variety of sizes (all the way up to Clydesdales,) mules can be produced from light-weight to heavy duty size, ready for a variety of tasks.

Mules can pack up to 20% of their weight in a load, or up to 30% of their weight in passengers.  They are lb. for lb. stronger than a horse, require less food, and can travel up to 26 km. without the need to rest.  They are largely disease resistant, have stronger hooves than horses, and tend to not give up in situations where something big has to be moved (hence “stubborn as a mule.”)

Mules in Ancient Times

Due to their docile nature and ease to train, Mules have been purposefully bred since early ancient times.  The Egyptians referred to the animal as being domesticated as early as 3,700 BCE.  The Ancient Greeks and Romans preferred mules over horses for transportation when heavier loads or greater distances were involved, as mules were noted to be surefooted, albeit slow. The Hittites held them in esteem, higher even than the horses which drew the chariots of their leaders.  In Biblical times, Israelites cherished the additional courage the mule possesses, noting that many celebrated figures, including the Kings of Israel, rode mules.  Christopher Columbus brought domesticated mules on his journey to the New World.

George Washington’s American “Compound”

George Washington, a renown breeder of Mules, wrote to King Charles V of Spain, seeking to purchase some Spanish asses.  Two females and a male named “Royal Gift” were sent over, arriving in December of 1785 at Mt. Vernon.  From France, the Marquis de Lafayette sent a Maltese Jack named “Knight of Malta” to Washington, and crosses of the two breeds began in earnest.  Animals produced from the cross-breeding of Washington’s early stock were known as “compound,” and by 1840 could run as much as $5,000 each.  Mules from Washington’s stock “…helped build our country,” as the motto of the American Donkey and Mule Society states.

The Santa Fe Trail and the Civil War

In the 1820s and 1830s, the Santa Fe Trail emerged as a major trading route, with mule-drawn wagons pulling a variety of products across the West, while riders kept a watchful eye for thieves and tribes angered by the encroachment.  The mules were so appreciated for their strength and endurance during these runs, that county fairs across the West and Mid-West began to have mule-breeding contests and shows.

During America’s Civil War era, thousands of mules were enlisted in both the Union and Confederate armies, typically by force, many dying along with the soldiers in battle, and it took many years for the population of the pack animal to recover during the Reconstruction period.  The recovery of the mule population post-Civil War runs parallel with the slow re-emergence of the cotton industry in the South.  The British Empire became embroiled in the Boer Wars of 1898, and the mule industry, particularly in Missouri, exploded, supplying 115,000 animals to the Brits.

Origin of the Famous Twenty Mule Team Symbol

The famous 20 Mule Team formation made famous by the Borax cleanser brand has its origins in the heat of California’s Death Valley.  William T. Coleman began mining for borax there in 1881, finding one of the World’s richest deposits, and formed a company, Harmony Borax Works.  Borax was used in those days for a variety of reasons: as a digestion aid, to sweeten old milk, to clean their faces and wash their hair.  It was used to scrub a variety of household objects and even as a curative for a variety of medical needs, including epilepsy.

Sensing opportunity, Coleman’s superintendent of operations J. W. S. Perry wanted to find an efficient and fast method of getting the mined borax moved 165 miles out of the desert valley and over the mountains to the nearest railroad junction, which was in Mojave. Perry talked with a local mule skinner, Ed Stiles, and they decided to move from the typical 10 mule hitch to double that amount, a train of animals and cargo that stretched over 100 feet.  Special, extremely sturdy wagons were created for the journey at a cost of over $900 each, an enormous sum in those days.

The trips began in 1883, took 20 days to accomplish, and moved 10 tons of borax over grinding sand and gravel (1/10^th the capacity of a modern freight car.)   Over the next 6 years, over 20 million lbs. of borax was hauled out of Death Valley.  Making only 17 miles per day, the wagon train made constant stops on the steep and narrow mountain trails, shifting donkeys in order to keep them from trying to move in a straight line (and thus over the precipices.) Wagon train members earned $100 – $120/month, a very good wage for the time. During this time not a single mule was lost, and not a single wagon broke down.  The spread of railroads closer to Death Valley relieved the men (and mules) from such dangerous duties.

The Pacific Coast Borax Company registered the 20 Mule Team symbol in 1894, and began imprinting the famous wagon train on their boxes of cleaning products in 1894.  Borax no longer recommends medicinal use of the chemical borax; however it is widely used in the glass, porcelain, ceramic, detergent, cosmetic, building material, electronics and agriculture industries.

Modern Use Today

Of course, modern agricultural machinery (tractors, trucks, etc.) have supplanted the mule as the top  performer in modern American farms; however they are still used in more rugged areas of the wilderness, including the Sierra Nevada Mountains of California.  The Grand Canyon is among the many recreational locales using mules to cart people and supplies within its magnificent (but dangerous) geography.  America’s Amish population still use 6- or 8- mule teams to pull their farming implements.  The Mountain Warfare Training Center in Bridgeport, California still trains our soldiers how to best use the multitude of mules found in Afghanistan to bring supplies deep into the Afghan mountains.  China is the chief user of mules in the World, followed closely by Mexico, Central and South America, according to the Food and Agriculture Organization.

There are a variety of mule appreciation societies, still carrying out breeding programs and displaying the best of the result at shows nationwide.  And, as for everything else, there exists a cable channel, dedicated to the raising and training of both donkeys and the mighty mule.

Because they could be collected from all around, were lightweight, and could be stored for great periods of time through tough winters, nuts (mixed with other dried foods) allowed for the formation of base camps and hunting exhibitions.  The carrying of dried nuts allowed groups to travel great distances without the necessary concern of what to eat along the journey. In other words, the variety of nuts found in ancient times, in part, allowed our ancestors to comfortably spread out across the globe.

Today is National Nut Day, and I’m torn between celebrating either the guy who wears dirty sweaters and shouts at the walls as you transit from your parked car to the office door (and you pray he won’t notice you) or that little delicious, crunchy, culinary delight in the big grocery bin.  Maybe in some weird way, I can figure out how to do both…

If you asked a botanist

Ask a botanist what a nut is and he’ll likely first think of you, because you’re bothering him, and frankly he doesn’t know you.  After he moves past that, he’ll tell you that a “true nut” is a dry fruit with a hardened ovary (Ovary? Really?) and softer, detached seed center, and that it stays shut even at full maturity.   I don’t know why it has to be described in that way…ask your new botanist friend!  Examples of what a botanist would call a “true nut” are chestnuts, beechnuts, hazelnuts and filberts.  I’ll bet when a botanist is at Baskin Robbins and is ordering toppings for his girlfriend’s ice cream sundae, he says nuts, even if they are not “true nuts.”  He does if he wants to keep dating her….

If you asked someone who cooks for a living

In the world of cuisine, the definition of a nut is fast and loose.  If you spent your day around sharp knives and open flames, you might be a little loose with the definitions too.  Any large oily seed extracted from a shell and used to cook with is considered a nut in the world of the kitchen.  Because we have much closer relationships with those that cook our meals than botanists, we tend to view pistachios, walnuts, almonds, cashews, coconuts, pinenuts and even peanuts as “nuts.”  Everyone likes to remind the lowly peanut that he is actually a legume, or bean.  The peanut never asked for such dichotomy.  If some of us can call Perez Hilton a celebrity, why can’t we just call a peanut a nut?

Health benefits of eating nuts

A diet that includes nuts has a variety of benefits to the eater.  The Omega 3 oils in nuts reduces hypertension and the risk of heart disease, and may add years to your life if you replace sweet treats at breaktime with them often.  Studies have shown that putting out a bowl of walnuts and almonds can actually reduce the level of “bad” cholestrol in our bodies, and increase the number of health-conscious hotties hanging around your desk.

Nuts are rich in fiber, protein, antioxidants, and vitamins.  Because of a very low glycemic index, nuts are typically suggested as a snack for anyone with insulin resistance problems, such as diabeties. Nuts contain linoleic and linolenic acids that help with proper skin, hair, brain, blood and immunilogical development.  They are considered to be one of the “perfect” foods, due to the large cross-section of identified benefits in consuming them in moderation.

Types of nuts

Here is a non-comprehensive list, in alphabetical order, of the types of nuts you can eat.  Some may require special preparation, so don’t run out and grab just any one of them off the ground!  Have you had the opportunity to try most of these?  I’ll bet you haven’t!

• Acorn
• Beech
• Butternut
• Brazilnut
• Candlenut
• Cashew
• Chestnuts (Chinese, Malabar, and Sweet)
• Colocynth
• Cucurbita Ficifolia
• Filbert
• Gevuina Avellana
• Hazelnut
• Hickory (Pecan, Shagbark Hickory)
• Kola
• Macadamia
• Mamoncillo
• Maya
• Mongongo
• Oak Acorns
• Ogbono
• Paradise
• Pili
• Pistachio
• Walnut

From nut to “nutter”

So how did such a good little food, responsible for the survival and spread of our species over millenia, become a derogatory term meaning “insane?”  Although there are no really direct explanations for it, there are regional cultural cues in our language that may’ve led to this…

From the 18th to 20th Centuries, the slang version of nut or nuts was used in a positive manner, denoting an extreme desire toward something.  This was highlighted in Mark Twain’s novel Huckleberry Finn, circa 1884: “Tom had his store clothes on, and an audience — and that was always nuts for Tom Sawyer.”  It was not uncommon in literature to describe the height of love as being a form of insanity.  Sometime around the mid 20th Century, the word nut became synonymous with describing one’s head, with terms such as “tough nut to crack” being used to describe one with very guarded thoughts or emotions.

Somewhere in the mid 20th Century, all of these terms seemed to converge, and the term nuts came to be used to describe someone whose sanity was in permanent (rather than temporary) question.  A variety of terms came about, including nutter, nuthouse, nutty, nuthead, etc., all demeaning in form.  In the last 30 years of so, the term nuts has taken back some of its original meaning, and is used once again to describe a pleasant but strong desire toward something.

Add some nuts to your life

Knowing how the wonderful nut has contributed so greatly to our survival and in no small way to the fact that you live where you do, why not take some to the office with you?  And say hello on the way to the guy with the stinky sweater. He might want some too…

Origin of Modern-Day Beauty Pageant

In 1921 the Businessman’s League of Atlantic City, a fun-loving group of guys to be sure, decided to hold what they called a ”Fall Frolic.”  Sticking wheels on 350 colorful wicker chairs, the organizers decorated them and assembled together scores of attractive women to pose on the chairs, as men pushed them down the Boardwalk.  The spectacle was such a success (go figure) that organizers decided to ask cities far and wide to run photo pageants in their newspapers, perform state-wide runoffs, and send all the winners to Atlantic City the following year as state representatives.  A local newspaperman, Herb Test, spoke up and stated that the ultimate winner should be crowned “Miss America.”  Although only a handful of states sent women the next year, an empire was born, changing how beauty was perceived for decades to come.

Rubber-stamping Beauty

The nationalizing and glamorizing of beauty pageants significantly helped to standardize what it means to be “beautiful” in America.  Oh, I’m not trying to villify the Billion-Dollar pageant industry…. They were only building on the commercial success that came with parading a steady stream of female cinema bombshells in Hollywood.   It’s no coincidence that the first winner of the Miss America Pageant was 16-year-old Margaret Gorman (photo right,) noted to have been popular because she looked like then-famous movie starlet Mary Pickford.

Little girls in small towns scattered across America read about the annual winners, pouring over photographs of the contest in their local papers. Quite a bit more than a handful of young women began that dream of competing someday in what has become over 1,200 local and state-level pageants leading to the now televised national pageants, hoping to be picked (by the new pageant ”experts,” tape measure in hand) as perfect.

Eating Disorders : The 800 lb. Gorilla in the Room

A Johns Hopkins University study showed that the average contestant on Miss America is 5’7″ talls,  weighs in at a feathery-light 120 lbs., and has a Body Mass Index (BMI) of 18.5, placing her squarely in the undernourished category for her height.  This is to be compared to the average American woman, with a height of 5’4″, weighing 142 lbs., with a BMI of 24.4.  In other words, to be considered as the next nationally televised representative of American beauty, a young women has to put serious consideration in joining the population of those residing deeply in the territory bordering an eating disorder.

My three young girls see the woman who is pressed forward by the crowd, to cut the ribbon on the new mall’s ground-breaking with impossibly large scissors.  They see the happy young girl waving from the car passing by on the parade, the one in the beautiful white formal. My girls are health, having been known to turn down seconds at the dinner table many a time.  Despite these continual exercises in self-control, they don’t see the same figure in the mirror as those that represent our shared ideals of shapeliness.  How easy it must be for them to equate success in life with that waif-like figure paraded in front of them in magazines and on television, in music videos and commercials.  I work hard to make sure they understand the difference between perception and reality…

It is estimated by the National Institute of Mental Health that between 5-10% of all women in America suffer from eating disorders, and up to 15% have had issues with them in their lives.  Women have begun to fight back at this impossible body image, demanding a more realistic view of what is considered beautiful by the media, often lashing out at the beauty pageants, television conglomerates, and fashion industry.

From Skinny to “Fit”

Beauty pageant marketers have heard the complaints, simply moving their message from thin to the more popular image of “fit,” adding the word “fitness” to describe swimsuit competitions, as though to wear a skinny slip of fabric is akin to a sporting activity.  My Dad used to watch pretty much any sport that was on television, including of all things Bass Fishing. If they had grass growing competitions, I am sure he would have owned a hat with Kentucky Blue Grass emblazoned on it. To my surprise, he also loved to watch Women’s Baskeball.  I’m not always sure it was for the right reasons… The players looked pretty fit to me.  The average female Olympic women’s basketball player (a Hell of a lot taller, fitter and thinner than the average woman) coincidentally has a BMI averaging 24.4, same as your typical, much shorter red-blooded and totally hot American female.

There is nothing fit in the rapid (and dangerous) weight-loss regimen that one not-long-ago Miss America winner underwent, going from a size 7 to a size 2 in just four months in preparation for the competition.  I seriously doubt she played basketball to get in that condition.  Our girls cannot (and should not) try to keep up with this dangerous example of American “fitness.”  They don’t wind up on stages with tiaras after that type of behavior.  They wind up in hospitals.

The Addition of “Good Causes”

National and International Beauty Pageants have further pushed away the issue of eating disorders by brandishing before them (and perhaps hiding behind) a variety of wonderful causes they support financially, including AIDS Education, Women’s Rights, School Violence and Breast Cancer Awareness.  They are certainly incredible, worthy causes.  I believe in and support them all, in case an apologetic wants to bash me over the head with one.  But the pageants continue to fail to take on the 800 lb. gorilla in the room head-on,  undertaking the loosening of what body style has to be met to compete and win.  What better way to create a more healthy, positive body image for our daughters, one that empowers them to stop looking in the mirror so much and begin looking more seriously at their educations, than to change what they physically see in beauty pageant winners? In that girl who cuts the ribbon or waves in the parade?

Even Barbie is No Longer Skinny Enough…

French Shoe Designer Christian LouBoutin recently complained that he felt that Barbie, the perennial American doll that pretty much everybody acknowledges has impossible proportions, has cankles. Yes, fat ankles.  He wants the doll redesigned to have skinnier ankles.  Thanks, jerk.

Ralph Lauren model Filippa Hamilton (size 4) sparked controversy in the news recently, stating she was let go for being too fat to fit in the clothing provided to her for photograph sessions.  In support of these statements, fashion shots of the 5’10″ 120 lb. model were produced to the media, doctored in order make her hips appear even skinnier than her head, because a size 4 was not small enough to produce the desirable eye-candy on a sailboat look…

The Power of Beauty

There is no mistaking the power of attractiveness.  Have we been trained to believe that beautiful people somehow possess greater faculties of the mind, or a deeper reservoir of essential, earthy goodness? Researchers have shown that when handing in homework of equal merit, more attractive students get higher grades on average by their googly-eyed teachers.  More attractive criminals tend to get lighter sentences from their jurors.  Less attractive people earn less than average-looking people, who make less than more attractive workers holding similar positions.

Where Does It Stop? Who Will Take a Stand?

The Miss American Rose Pageant is very unlike other pageants.  Competitors of all ages are not invited to attend at a particular location, instead mailing in their applications to pageant headquarters.  That’s right, mail-in.  There are no travel expenses, no clothing and hairstyle costs, no hotel rooms and trainers, no poise school and singing lessons, no tape under the boobs, no wardrobe malfunctions, no stupid answers to canned questions.  And definitely no itching powder in a competitor’s swimsuit.

The competition is based largely on a girl (or woman’s) lifetime achievements, rather than being almost wholely focused on one’s  appearance and poise.  There are optional competitions based on academics, talent, community service, career, and finally beauty.  But before you roll your eyes, the beauty portion of the pageant is based on either photograph or written essay, as outer and inner beauty are each being considered as having their merit..

I have to stand and applaud the Miss American Rose Pagaent.  They have shirked the standardized beauty specifications, put down the tape measures and scales, and allowed the definition of what is beautiful to return to the eye of the beholder. They have drawn forth and celebrated the inner beauty in each and every girl and woman, empowering and pushing them to be leaders, teachers, and examples for all of us.

From the bottom of my heart I thank you, Miss American Rose Pageant.  My daughters and I love you.

The year was 1827.  Students at Cambridge University had gotten used to the elderly man sitting behind the dusty stacks of thick books, busily pouring over them, scratching his head and taking notes at one of the wooden private desks.  It was always best to not disturb one whose manner of self-employment held such a note of gravity, and so the man was left to his own pursuits.

The Beginnings of an American Icon

Born Oct. 16, 1758, Noah Webster grew up in Hartford, Connecticut on a farm that had been a part of his family since earliest Colonial days.  At 16, Noah attended Yale University during the Revolutionary War, breaking from his studies for a time to serve in the Connecticut Militia.  Noah taught school after graduation from Yale, in order to pay his tuition while pursuing a law degree, which he obtained in 1781.  Being a lawyer did not suit young Noah, who then went on to teach.  During his teaching tenure, Noah scoffed at the English-made textbooks used in American classrooms, and developed grammar books that sold quite well.  Ultimately his scholarly success led to Noah becoming a schoolmaster of renown in his quiet New Haven, Connecticut community.

A Man of Constant Innovation and Reinvention

While schoolmaster, Noah Webster decided that the English dictionaries provided to his students were unsuitable, as they did not include the distinct vocabulary of American-style English used in everyday life.   Noah Webster decided to develop a new form of dictionary, a uniquely American dictionary, filled with both the old English and still-emerging “American” language.  Noah wished to break from the stylistic dictates of England’s dictionary writers upon the American spoken word.  Noah was brewing a linguistic revolution…

Sacrificing a Life for a Language

Noah was 43 when he undertook this endeavor, soon discovering that he was in over his head, as he realized even his own knowledge of word derivations was lacking.  In order to complete such a challenging project to his own exacting specifications, Noah would have to make a choice: either stay on as headmaster and continue enjoying the comfortable company of friends, and a community that respected his position in life, or dash it all aside for the hard work of helping his fellow American’s vocabulary.  The choice, at least to Noah, was clear.

For 7 years Noah toiled with little success on his project, discovering that in order to gain the necessary  grasp of word origins (etymologies,) he would have to leave America, and immerse himself in the culture and language of those countries that had contributed so greatly to the English (and American) language.  For the next 20 years of his older life, Noah lived first in Paris and then England, where he continued his research in the vast libraries of Cambridge University.  During his overseas tenure, Noah learned an incredible 26 languages, including German, Latin, Old English, Italian, Spanish, French, Arabic, Hebrew and Ancient Sanskrit.

The First Truly American Lexicography

After so many years of hard work and self-improvement, Noah Webster completed his first edition of what was the then titled An American Dictionary of the English Language, the first English dictionary to include the unique lexicography of American life, the first truly American Dictionary.  Noah was 70 years old, and fiercely got to work in seeing that every American got a copy.

Today, over 55 million copies of Merriam Webster’s Collegiate Dictionary sell each year.  It is still, to this day, considered to be the modern lexicographer’s dictionary of choice.  Noah Webster set the benchmark as to what it means to be a scholar, to roll up one’s mental sleeves and get the damn job done.

Chronicling How We Express Our American Spirit

Noah Webster believed in democratizing our language, arguing that its sovereignty lay in the hands of the people, who would control its evolving lexicography through its daily use.  No longer would stuffy dictionary writers tell us how we should talk; we would teach them instead how to tend to their dictionaries, adding the special nuances we developed as we worked together, expressed our joys in close companionship, brought forth our needs and affections in common pursuit of happiness, and shared that sacred spark of Life, so very close to the ground….

Simon Cowell. Dick Cheney. Walter Matthau. Oscar the Grouch. Burgess Meredith. Grumpy. Bill O’Reilly. Andy Rooney. And every other cat.  There are a variety of words for them:  Curmudgeons, grumps, old coots, bellyachers, faultfinders, grousers, malcontents, sourpusses, soreheads, moaners and grouches.  They are the walking, talking equivalent of rain clouds, dampening the spirits of all when they walk into a room.  They have the almost prescient ability to find and instantaneously utter the one phrase that drains the happiness from their mates.

You know one.  They sit across from you in the lunchroom, telling everyone within earshot why they can’t eat cheese anymore because they’re lactose intolerant, while you try to scup out your daily portion of last night’s chicken fettucini from that little Tupperware container.  If they give you a ride to work, they will give you a blow-by-blow as to why every other driver is rude, that the economy is in its last gasps, that their children are headed for a lifetime in jail, that their spouse never listens, etc.  And you refamiliarize yourself with childhood prayers, as you seek the strength to not brain him.

To be a grouch is to be a conoisseur of negativity, growing your own sustenance in dark, ugly places, drawing often from vast stores. I’ve known so many people who were down on their luck for a time, who fell out of belief with the goodness of others, consciously choosing to expect nothing from those they interact with.  This is not the one I speak of, temporarily dwelling in a bad place until circumstances change (or they change them); no, rather I am talking about the one who has been rendered incapable of digging their way out.  I’m talking about the hopeless one…

How Did National Grouch Day Come to Be?

National Grouch Day emerged many years ago on the pages of Sesame Street Magazine, as a celebration of the uniquely downward-leaning personality of the one and only Oscar the

Grouch.  We love Oscar.  Some of you have the t-shirt.  You know who you are.  As with many of the characters on Sesame Street, Oscar embodied a personality type that we were to be introduced to, so that we could see how other characters coped with him, and learn from their example.

What’s the Story behind Oscar the Grouch?

As the story goes, Jim Henson and a friend went to a restaurant in Manhattan, either called “Oscar’s Salt of the Sea” or “Oscar’s Tavern,” depending on who tells the story.  During their meal, they had the joy of being waited on by someone whose grumpiness was so extreme, that it was downright comical.  Return visits to the restaurant were performed as a form of “masochistic entertainment.” The part of this unpleasurable individual shall forever be embodied in trash-can dwelling Oscar the Grouch.

Is Grouchiness a Permanent Condition?

If you find yourself slowly sliding into a sea of pessimism, and cannot find a way to part from the undertow, here are 7 ways to lose the pessimism drawing you further from the happy shore, courtesy of LifeOptimizer.Org:

1. Find something good you used to believe in and re-engage – Assess your life, starting with those naive, liberal-minded teen years.  Review diaries if you can.  What did you use to fight for in life? What causes did you once believe in helping before you gave up on your ability to change the World? Whether it is protecting endangered species, advocating for victims of domestic violence, or your local animal shelter, find one simple cause you still believe in, and look up ways to help locally, or even online.
2. Focus your energies on what might work, not fail – Write down all of the possible things that might go right with you helping this new cause or organization.  Don’t write anything that could go wrong. Read daily.
3. You, too, can sip from the goodness of Chicken Soup for the Soul – Purchase and keep around you books that will help lighten your spirits, remind you what others have overcome, and simply humble you enough to break your inner pain from being the center of how you identify.
4. Become part of, and identify with a team – Form or become part of a group to be with, to hang around with, to work together in unison on projects, to go to coffee with.  Book clubs, social groups, Red Hat Ladies, Road-side Cleanup Crews, etc.  There are thousands with a variety of interests and level of involvement. Try one!
5. Get spiritual – You found yourself in a grouchy place because you saw problems in your life that were insurmountable, larger than you.  If you are a spiritual person, or might become one, visit places of worship and find a way to connect to something even bigger than the problems…
6. Identify your negative statements and squash them – Keep a notebook around and pay a little more attention to what you say or think during your daily routines. Write down the negative thoughts that cross your mind, the disencouraging words that you utter, even under your breath.  Spend some time once or twice a week thinking about the origins of these statements, and ask yourself if they are opinions or facts.  Critically examine them in the same manner you used to look at the World around you.
7. Open up to the unexpected – Part of your grouchiness comes from a belief that you know how things will turn out, that you will not be surprised in being soon let down.  Often when we are down in life, we subconsciously turn away from and disengage from events that fall outside of these limited mental parameters, so as to stay where we are.  Begin to realize that you are incapable of seeing all that occurs around you, and that you may miss many positives in the situations you encounter.  Refocus your attentions during typical interactions with friends and coworkers, and perhaps you will find more positivity surrounding you than you knew…

Grouchiness is Dangerous

Ongoing, deepset pessimism is dangerous to your relationships, your career, your lovelife, and your body.  The stress of maintaining anger at the World around you will surely weaken your heart and shorten the very lifespan you need to overcome your problems and learn to love life again.  In short, grouchiness kills.

I provided a short quote at the beginning of this post, and will now share the entire quote, because I think it is highly appropriate for the subject.

“The world breaks everyone and afterward many are strong in the broken places. But those that it will not break it kills. It kills the very good and the very gentle and the very brave impartially. If you are none of these you can be sure it will kill you too but there will be no special hurry.” – Ernest Hemingway

What Breaks Us Makes Us Stronger

It is said that the weld is stronger than the metal.  And good glue is stronger than the porcelain it holds together again.  You cannot prepare for the breaks in your life, but you do have to engage in life to be broken by it.  Failure to do so, and you will never learn to stitch together the breaks, never accept and move forward stronger.  You might as well die a slow but painless death…

Get out of the trash can. Celebrate who you are, and let the rest of us love you…and re-learn to love the rest of us back.