Missed Chan(ce)

I watched much of the Beijing Olympics in disgust. Not just because diving and beach volleyball are not even on the top 10 list of most watchable international sports. But because these olympic games were missing something so real, so attainable, so AWESOME. China, for all its storied history and legacy, particularly in science, that has contributed greatly to Western Civilization, does not have much in the way of an ambassador to the world. You know, a diplomat recognized the world over for his good will, winning smile, charisma, and intellect (or gumption, if not intellect). The man Who Could (nay, Should) Have Been the Beijing Olympic ambassador, the je ne sais quoi that was missing in '08, is Jackie Chan. FULL DISCLOSURE: I am aware Mr. Chan was born in Hong Kong, which was not part of China per se at the time, but as of '97 Hong Kong the British gave it to the Chinese as part of the British effort to be the Empire On Which The Sun Has Set).
Imagine the mileage one could get out of Jackie Chan as your ambassador! In addition to the usual photo ops and VIP treatment during ceremonial moments, think about the shenanigans Mr. Chan would be up to. In the middle of the fencing tournament, Jackie bursts in, 3 hoodlums in hot pursuit. A fencing squad attempts to diffuse the situation, and a melee ensues. A three-way battle between Jackie, hoodlums, and fencers breaks out, Jackie being armed with a table leg and a turkey leg. During archery, Jackie swings on a rope across the range to rescue a damsel who has been covered by a large paper target, only to realize the rope is on fire just before the rope snaps and he and damsel are deposited unceremoniously 15 feet down onto a few bales of hay. And, of course, the Chinese Communist Party Leadership insists that Jackie be prominently featured busting up a sinister plot for world domination by the evil falun gong. Everybody goes home a winner, by any measure.
And that is the olympic games as they should have been. Just like John Wayne would darned well have been the ambassador of the 1984 Los Angeles games if only he had been with us a few more years. Rest well, Duke.
Hopefully I'll have a review of Running Critical in a few days.

Deficient Deficiencies

One of the members of our engineering group recently went to work for the government bureau that oversees shipbuilding. He basically walked from a desk in one building to another one a few hundred yards away. Some of the benefits offered by the government, particularly the retirement pension plan, are attractive, so I can't blame him for that. No hard feelings. I then became solely responsible for a lot of the work he had been doing. Some pretty significant problems popped up almost immediately after he left, so I had to take care of them. Taking care of them means figuring out what we were going to do, selling the idea to the Powers That Be in the Navy, and submitting the right paperwork.
The guy who left is now responsible for approving the documents I submit for the system he used to work on. This is standard practice in the military-industrial-congressional complex. At every step, though, on documentation for 7 separate ships, he has approved our submittal but noted a "technical deficiency". The only rationale provided is a comment: "Shipbuilder shall perform work as described in report". So, saying that we are supposed to do exactly what we said we were going to do is a technical deficiency? And now I have to answer to my superiors (who have been very understanding, fortunately) why I'm receiving "technical deficiencies" from the government. At this point, it seems as though the man is just cruelly casting stones at those who are doing his old job, getting a power trip out of being able to turn the screws down on people he used to know who have to do the work he would be doing if he hadn't bailed out.
This is enough to upset a man. But then I sit down, loosen my tie, relax a little bit, and let the music carry away my frustrations...

Summer Recess

I Tell You What, I have not had a lot of time for posting lately. I've been trying to finish a book that I find particularly interesting, Running Critical by Patrick Tyler. Among the other unique things that keep me interested in my job, there are actually books written about the shipyard. This one is not particularly flattering. To be completely honest, the place seemed like Hellville, USA, during the 1970's. The old timers tell all kinds of great stories about how things used to work, but I don't think all the changes in the past 30 years have been so bad. Despite all the cosmetic changes to the shipyard and Navy, the dynamic interaction has hardly changed a whit, by my reckoning. I'll be sure to do a more extensive write-up when I've finished the book. I'm also trying to squeeze out some time to e-mail old friends. I acknowledge that e-mail is about the least personal and least satisfying way to stay in touch, but it only takes 10 minutes and still shows you care. In lieu of writing a lengthy post, I challenge you to do two things I'm doing this week with the time you would normally spend surfing the Web

• Write, call, or visit somebody you haven't heard from in at least 6 months
• Read a book

Reason #548 To Love The Internet

Just go here. Right now. And remember the glory that was the 1990's.

The Planet's Least Stressful Place

My cousin Madeleine recently visited my branch of the family on the East Coast. When I say "branch", I mean from a towering family tree, our parents were adjacent brother and sister in a line of 16 siblings. She is 14, which provided Wifey and I a remarkable window into what is to come. When your child is 3 years old, they only have as much control as you give them. Admittedly, in American culture even the strictest parents cede much of their authority to their children, but it's a voluntary transfer of power at that age. A teenager has valid thoughts and ideas of their own. They may be right, they may be wrong, but they're not going to be persuaded by blunt authority. Fear not, there were no conflicts in the I Tell You What household during my cousin's visit, but I was startled by how much more of a peer relationship the parent/child dynamic has become at that age versus when the child hasn't even entered school yet. In case you're still wondering, she's pretty smart.

One of the week's high points was to head to the local zoo. I love that place, the children are a convenient excuse for me to go stare at exotic animals and read every last word on the exhibit plaques. The icing on the cake was an enclosed butterfly garden. It was well worth the few extra bucks for admission to that. I am scarcely poetic enough to do the scene justice, but the comic laureate Brian Regan explains it well. Anyway, closely examine a sample of the photos below, and feel your blood pressure slowly drop as you drift into a state of drowsy contentment. If we could have locked Osama bin Laden, Dick Cheney, Saddam Hussein, and the entire Board of Directors from Weyland-Yutani, into this blissful place for a day, the world we live in would be a more serene place.