Monday, February 17, 2025

The Every-Other-Asshole Rule

 

My Dad, Lt. George Gussman, during World War II

My Dad had several favorite bits of wisdom he lived by.  “You can tell who boozes by the company he chooses” was one I first heard when Dad did not approve of my middle school friends.  “Volunteer for everything” was the last advice he gave me before I flew to Texas for Basic Training. He was right.  But the most useful advice when approaching a complex world was his Every-Other-Asshole Rule.  

I remember hearing this for the first time the day I took my driver’s license test.  I wanted nothing more in the world than to get my license and drive.  I had aced the written test and had years of practice driving warehouse vehicles and an old pickup truck for hauling trash in my summer job.  But I was nervous.  Just before I took the road test, my Dad said in a conspiratorial whisper, “Just look at every other asshole who has a license and ask yourself, is he smarter than I am?”

I passed.  

And for the rest of my life, when faced with something that seemed difficult or frightening, I would look around and see every other asshole who could do what I was about to do.  And it worked.  

Several years later I was training to be a tank gunner.  I had to fire a tank cannon (for the first time) and hit the target down range or redo gunnery training.  I was intimidated. I had never fired anything larger than an M16 rifle.  But I looked around at the other gunnery trainees who passed the test and even some of the training leaders who were not the brightest bulb on the chandelier and thought, ‘I can do this.’ I did. I was a tank commander less than a year later.

A decade after that, I was the first one out of the plane when a group of eight co-workers at an ad agency went skydiving.  We watched a group before us float to the ground. I looked at that group, remembered Dad's advice, and boarded the little single-engine plane last.  Last in, first out!   

In 2009 in Oklahoma, I went off a rappel tower for the first time.  Same drill. Look around, think of Dad, jump backwards and sail to the ground. 

In 2012 at age 59, I learned to swim. I had never swum the length of a pool. I went to the YMCA for lessons, not sure I could actually swim.  I met my instructor, looked around and thought at least half the human race can swim, I can too. 

Thanks Dad. 


Wednesday, February 12, 2025

Riding, Hiking Mountains in Western Panama

 

Coffee plants growing on a steep hillside above Boquete, Panama

After months of sea-level riding and walking with some small hills, I hiked and rode up and down some very long, very steep hills near Volcan Baru, a volcano last active about 500 years ago. 

The 13-kilometer trail to the peak of Volcan Baru 

The trail above is the beginning of the 13-kilometer hiking trail to the top of Volcan Baru.  I made  it to an overlook two kilometers up the hill. The grade is 23%. The descent was more difficult than the climb on loose gravel and rocks.     

The view from Volcan Baru

From Boquete, I rode past streams and waterfalls toward one of the peaks.  Several times I walked on grades that exceeded 20%.  I turned around at a point when I could not pedal and could see a half kilometer of very steep road. Total climb was 700 meters.  

The descent was slow.  The road was narrow and had delivery vans, minibuses and taxis climbing and descending.  The road was occasionally smooth, but would suddenly be broken and gravel-strewn.  


After a week of hikes and bike rides, I was very tired.  

Here is one grade I rode and walked up:





   










Thursday, February 6, 2025

New Friend, New List of Favorite Books

Joseph Brodsky around 1970. 

A new friend here in Panama, a cyclist, Yogi, and round-the-world-sailor named Roger, asked me for a list of books I would recommend. He is an avid reader and looking for new books he has not read.  

Roger has read all the greats of 19th Century Russian literature. Today I found out why.  Roger was an undergraduate at the University of Michigan in 1970.  He took a
semester of creative writing with Joseph Brodsky, the Russian emigre poet who received the Nobel Prize in Literature in 1987.  Roger won the Russian lit. professor lottery! 

I have a few books with me in Panama. Two are Blindness, the terrifying dystopian novel by Jose Saramago, and Tribe by the journalist and war correspondent Sebastian Junger. Both are excellent, so I gave them to Roger. 

Now the list. 

1. Kazuo Ishiguro. Remains of the Day and Buried Giant by Kazuo Ishiguro are my favorites. I have read everything Ishiguro has written, most recently Klara and the Sun and seen his movie Living.  His writing is brilliant. These two books are my favorite.

2. Hannah Arendt. Philosopher and historian and one of the most influential political writers of the 20th Century. Born in 1906, a German Jew, she earned a PhD at Heidelberg in 1929 and fled Germany in 1933 just after the Nazi takeover.  She lived in France until WorldWar II began, then escaped to America in 1941. In 1951 She published The Origins of Totalitarianism, her best-known work defining the new tyranny of Nazi Germany and Soviet Russia.  I have read all of her books. I most admire On Revolution a book that shows why nearly all revolutions devolve into tyranny, but America did not.  I love The Human Condition for explaining living in our world.  I am such a devoted fan, I am in a weekly reading group and go to Hannah Arendt Conferences.

3. George Orwell. I have read and re-read Orwell's novels.  A decade ago I read the 1200-page volume of his collected essays, finding endless entertainment.  His essay on brewing tea shows the utter snob that still lingered inside the Democratic Socialist writer. There is no better book explaining the rise of Stalin than Animal Farm.  A decade ago, I became convinced that 1984 was not prophetic after all, until I read about life in Communist China.     

4. Mark Helprin. I have been a devoted fan of Mark Helprin since read his novel Winters Tale in 1983.  I have since read every one of his novels, most recently The Ocean and the Stars.  His Paris in the Present Tense gave me a new and lovely view of my favorite city.  I plan to read Winters Tale for the third time this year.

5. - 12.  I love big books in which one author writes the entire history of humanity as in Sapiens by Yuval Noah Harari.  

Or of recorded human history as in Why the West Rules--For Now by Ian Morris or another view Guns, Germs and Steel by Jared Diamond. 

Or a history of American from the view of those without power, These Truths by Jill Lepore. 

Another delightful view of the past 500 years Civilization: The West and the Rest by Niall Ferguson.  

I recently read Titans of History by Simon Sebag Montifiore. I plan to read his The World: A Family History of Humanity.  But I also want to read his Jerusalem.

An aside on these books is that I believe recent histories are the best. The old histories did not have access to all the new data. That perspective here.

And another aside! If you read books in translation, read the newest translation available.  The latest translation will be clearest and will correct the mistakes of predecessors.  If you read Scriptures in translation, read a translation by one person.  A committee compromises. One person may be wrong, but they won't be tepid. 

Back to the list.  

13. (for the unluckiest author on this list)  The Forgotten Soldier by Guy Sajer. Son of a German father and French mother from territory between the countries. Enlists in the German Army at 17 in 1941. Spends the entire war in Russia. Returns home. Home is now in France. He serves in the French Foreign Legion to avoid prison. A soldier under any flag can be a good soldier.  

14. The Prince by Niccolo Machiavelli I re-read it for the tenth time last year, every Presidential election year since 1980.  I will read it again in 2028. Machiavelli's advice remains brilliant, relevant and chilling 500 years after he wrote it.  

15. Day of the Oprichnik by Vladimir Sorokin.  A 2006 novel that imagines Russia in 2028 as a restored Tsarist empire, complete with Oprichniks, the assassins of Ivan the Terrible. It is a crazy, funny novel, but the Russian invasion of Ukraine showed it has a dark, prophetic side. 

16. A Canticle for Liebowitz by Walter Miller Jr. shows us the world after a Soviet-American nuclear exchange kills 95% of the population.  A Catholic monastery in the ruins of Utah preserves books after the survivors of the nuclear war burn books and scientists. The irony in this book is amazing.

17. Democracy in America by Alexis de Tocqueville.  In a nine-month trip beginning in1830, Tocqueville found the heart of American democracy and wrote a book that became the central description of America for the world--including every political scientist in America.  He said in the 1830s that the 20th Century would be defined by the conflict between Russian and America.

18. C.S. Lewis. I have read all of the 39 books he wrote in his lifetime, plus posthumous collections. His novel Till We Have Faces is so good it is one of the books I read aloud to my daughters. The central characters look at the same thing at the same time and see two entirely different things.  So much of the book looks at perception and reality in ways I have not read anywhere else. His book The Four Loves gave me a frame for seeing the different ways people express love...and reject love. 

19. Vasily Grossman. Since Roger has read about and is very interested in the Battle of Stalingrad, my first recommendation is Life and Fate the novel of the Battle of Stalingrad and it's second volume titled Stalingrad. Grossman was a Soviet war correspondent who arrived the first day of the battle and reported then entire terrible fight.

20. Leo Tolstoy. Death of Ivan Ilych by Leo Tolstoy. No book affected my view of life, death and eternity more than this one. I just re-read War and Peace, but Ivan Ilych is for me the best thing Tolstoy wrote.  


Wednesday, February 5, 2025

Terrorists as Celebrities



In the remote resort town of Boquete in western Panama is a lovely little open-air Italian restaurant.  On the wall are picture of the owner and employees with celebrities from Panama and other countries.  Two caught my eye.  

The pictures were at least a couple of decades old. One showed Fidel Castro with three members of the kitchen staff. Another showed Yassir Arafat with a guy who may have been the chef.  

Boquete is 200 miles from the capitol of Panama.  It is 35 miles from the nearest airport. It has a large American expat community. Someone visiting Boquete is on holiday.  Looking at Castro and Arafat, I thought immediately of the oppressed millions they locked in poverty. But oppressors and murderers are also celebrities, so they are on wall. 


  




Wednesday, January 29, 2025

"War" by Sebastian Junger--Reading the Book 15 Years After I Saw the Movie

 


In August of 2010, eight months after I returned from Iraq, I went to see the documentary Restrepo with Jim Dao of the New York Times.*  Restrepo records the the men of 2nd Platoon of Battle Company, airborne infantry on the farthest outpost in the midst of the worst fighting in the War in Afghanistan.  The movie was filmed and directed by Sebastian Junger and Tim Hetherington. 

I wrote briefly about seeing the movie in 2010. War documentaries can be slow, wanting to get every detail right. Restrepo roars from one scene to the next. Hetherington and Junger captured moments when everyone around them was in a fight for their lives--they were armed only with a camera.  Even the moments of boredom had the feral, roaring feel of men waiting for a fight as if chained.  

And the candor, especially of the officers in charge of 2nd Platoon and Battle Company was amazing.  The default setting for talking to the press in the military is STFU (Shut the Fuck Up).  Most soldiers I have known hate the media. When I first served during the Vietnam War soldiers felt outright betrayed by the media.  

The officers and men said what they really thought. I would not have believed the candor if I had not seen it.  

Now fifteen years after seeing the movie, I read Junger's book War based on the same year in the Korengal Valley of Afghanistan plus follow up with the soldiers of the Restrepo outpost.  

I have not seen a more visceral or candid documentary of any war. I would recommend the movie to anyone. The book had me laughing out loud at some points and then reading page after page never able to stop in the middle of a patrol or fire fight.  Usually I like either the book or the movie better (usually the book). In the case of the HBO series Band of Brothers I much preferred the series to the book. 

By contrast, War and Restrepo they are companions. I would watch Restrepo first simply to feel the rush of the story then read War to linger on the words and the detail.   

In 2011, I volunteered to go to Afghanistan. The deployment orders fell through, certainly for the better. War was published in May 2010.  I intended to read the book after seeing the movie, but forgot about it in the rush of life after returning from Iraq. In retrospect, if I had read the book I would have better understood why I wanted to go back and why I should not.

In October of last year, I met Junger at a conference where he was a featured speaker.  He spoke about his book Tribe which is very much informed by War and Restrepo.  The conference was on Tribalism and Cosmopolitanism at the Hannah Arendt Center at Bard College. We had lunch together and talked about the Army, deployment, Army food, and how strange it was to return to the "real world" after war. And about how funny and terrible Army jokes are. 

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*Dao was the war correspondent of the Times and in the middle of a long-term assignment covering the 10th Mountain Division on a year-long deployment to Afghanistan.  The 10th Mountain is stationed at Camp Drum, New York.  Dao's coverage of a year at war is here





Thursday, January 23, 2025

Tattoos are Rare in Panama

 


Sleeve tattoos like the one above are common in Panama City, Florida, not mention Philadelphia, Portland, Pittsburgh and Phoenix, but not in Panama City, Panama. Across the Central American region, tattoos are rare.  

One reason is the association of tattoos with gangs and drug cartels. People with tattoos were seen as part of those groups. 

A barista in Panama City who is college age said she and her friends don't get tattoos.  No particular reason, they just don't.

I have been living in Panama since November and just noticed that I don't see tattoos everywhere, as I would in any major city in America or Europe.  

Today I rode the both subway lines in Panama. The five-car trains are open. You can see from one end of the train to the other.  As far as I could see, no tattoos.  At one busy stop a security guard with a tattoo got on the train. If I rode a subway in New York, Philadelphia, or DC, I would have a hard time finding people without tattoos. 

It was a woman with sleeve tattoos that made me aware that I was not seeing tattoos.  When I saw her fully-inked arms in an outdoor restaurant I realized I had not seen sleeve tattoos for months--since I was last in Philadelphia. The woman with sleeve tattoos I saw here was an American tourist, not a Panamanian.

As perception, I know it is much harder to "see" what is absent than what is present so I don't feel too bad about not noticing that people in Panama don't have tattoos. I also wonder if I was simply seeing "normal" for most of my life.  Before this century, most Americans did not have tattoos. For fifty years, I lived in the world where tattoos were rare.        

Now they are everywhere--in the US.  

But not here in Panama. 

 


Sunday, January 19, 2025

A Review of An Immense World by Ed Yong


In the fall of 2024 I read An Immense World with the Evolution Round Table at Franklin and Marshall College, a group I have been part of for more than two decades.

It is easily the most beautifully written of all the books of more than two dozen books I have read with this group.  Rather than simply gush about it, I copied the review from The Guardian newspaper. If you read popular science this book is deeply informative and a joy to read.

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A Review of An Immense World by Ed Yong 

This magnificent book reveals the strange and mysterious ways that creatures sense their surroundings – pushing our understanding of them to the limit

Review by Killian Fox

20 Jun 2022

Scallops have eyes. Not just two eyes, like humans have, or eight, like most spiders do, but up to 200 of them, each clasped by a thin, wavy tentacle protruding from the inner edges of the corrugated shell. Considering how rudimentary a scallop’s brain is, these eyes are surprisingly sophisticated. Play a scallop a video of juicy particles drifting by in the water, as researchers at the University of South Carolina have done, and it will likely open its shell, as if to take a bite.

It’s possible, at a stretch, to say what’s going on here. The scallop’s eyes transmit visual information to its brain, which creates a picture, however fuzzy, of some juicy plankton approaching, and it springs into action. The shell opens wide, the plankton floats in, and snap! Dinner is served.

It’s a neat enough explanation, but it’s not true. The reality, as with most cases in Ed Yong’s magnificent new book on animal perception, is more complicated, more mysterious, more wondrously strange.

Yong has a knack for vivid similes, and here he invites us to think of the scallop’s brain “as a security guard watching a bank of a hundred monitors, each connected to a motion-sensing camera… The cameras may be state-of-the-art, but the images they capture are not sent to the guard.” What appears instead is a warning light for every camera that has detected something, and the guard reacts without actually visualising the prey. If this explanation is correct – and Yong is always alert to the possibility that it might not be – the scallop “doesn’t experience a movie in its head the same way we do. It sees without scenes.”

This throws up further questions, not least: why do scallops have such keen eyes if their brains can’t process the visual data? Yong doesn’t give us a conclusive answer, but the example raises a deeper point that lies at the heart of his book. We humans are so deeply embedded in our own particular way of seeing the world that we find it hard not to impose our perspective on other creatures – if indeed we bother thinking about them at all.

A British science writer based in the US, Yong is drawn to material that pushes our understanding to the limits. His first book, I Contain Multitudes, dove headlong into the world of microbes and made often punishingly complex subjects digestible to lay readers without oversimplification. While working on this follow-up, he broke off to report on Covid for the Atlantic, producing a series of deeply researched, often devastating articles that won him a Pulitzer prize.

An Immense World might be his most audacious undertaking so far. Humans, like all creatures, are trapped in sensory bubbles unique to each individual – what the Baltic-German zoologist Jakob von Uexküll referred to as our Umwelt – which means we “can only tap into a small fraction of reality’s fullness”, as Yong puts it. Our eyesight is pretty good, but it’s nowhere near as panoramic as that of a mallard, which “sees the world simultaneously moving toward it and away from it” when flying. Nor can we perceive ultraviolet colours, as most animals can, or sniff out the topography of underwater mountains and valleys, like some seabirds seem capable of doing.

We may feel like we are the masters of our planet, having mapped every inch of its landmass and stared into the guts of an atom, but when it comes to understanding what it’s like to be a songbird using the earth’s magnetic field to navigate across continents, we barely know where to start.

Yong is up for giving it his best shot, not least because he understands how damaging it can be to disregard other creatures’ perspectives. When we unthinkingly flood the world with light and sound, we wreak havoc on bird and turtle migrations and disrupt owls and orcas in their search for food. Even scientists who have spent years working with a single species can botch research by failing to fully consider their point of view. But Yong also relishes stepping into other Umwelts just for the sheer fascination of it. “We don’t have to look to aliens from other planets,” one scientist tells him. “We have animals that have a completely different interpretation of what the world is right next to us.”

She has a point: who needs sci-fi when you’ve got a blind catfish with flow-sensing teeth all over its skin, or crickets with ears on their knees, or a dolphin that can perceive your innards through echolocation? Even everyday encounters seem extraordinary through the “magic magnifying glass” that Yong holds up. The jerky movements of flies buzzing around your living room aren’t random, but a response to fluctuations in temperature too minuscule for humans to detect. The hearing of chickadees changes with the seasons, speeding up in the autumn, while large flocks are forming, and becoming more pitch-sensitive in spring, to register the subtleties of mating calls.

The book is so full of these little astonishments, beautifully rendered, that Yong occasionally risks overwhelming our sense of wonder. By the time we get to the chapter on magnetoreception – easily the most confounding of the senses, in part because no one is certain where the relevant receptors are located – it’s almost a relief when he admits that he has “no idea how to begin thinking about the Umwelt of a loggerhead turtle”.

But it’s the attempt that matters, and Yong succeeds brilliantly in shedding light on these alien worlds – worlds that drift around us every day, like plankton around a scallop, but whose richness and extravagant strangeness we rarely pause to examine. Now, thanks to this book, we have scenes to help us see.


The Every-Other-Asshole Rule

  My Dad, Lt. George Gussman, during World War II My Dad had several favorite bits of wisdom he lived by.  “You can tell who boozes by the c...