On TV in Philadelphia

Last Thursday I got up at 330am to be on local NBC TV.  Turned out well.

Sam Weaver the Parisian

For the week I was in Paris, I rented a Cannondale road bike from Sam Weaver of Rando Cycles (5 rue Fernand Foureau, near the Metro stop Porte de Vincennes at the eastern edge of Paris). The Rando Boutique, next door, tel. 01 40 01 03 08, has an excellent selection of saddle bags and German bicycle accessories. 


Sam is an affable Californian who married a lovely French biochemist.  They live just a mile south of Paris in the village of Malakoff.  When he told me about living in Paris I started wondering if my wife could teach math in Paris.  It would be a great place for Nigel and Jacari to live.  France doesn't have the horrible history of slavery and segregation that America does.  The right wing in Paris hates everybody fairly equally.  But my wife is fluent in Spanish, so it is more likely she could get a job in Spain.  


Because I had a decent road bike, it was the off season and the weather was cold--the high temp every day was either just above or just below freezing--I could ride with the peletons in Bois de Boulogne. Every day from 10am until dark, a two-mile road around a horsing racing track in the southwest corner of the city is closed to traffic and open to bicycles.  In the dozen times I have been to France, there is always somebody riding this road, rain or shine, heat or cold.  


I can't wait to go back!

And Another Frenchman Who Really Loves George Bush

In a post last week I wrote about Stefan who said he loved George Bush.  The next night, on Wednesday, I sat next to a Frenchman who genuinely liked George Bush.  I had dinner with the executives of the Maison de la Chime, a professional organization of chemists.  The man in question was in his mid-70s.  He had served five years in the French Army including fighting in Algeria in 1961. 

He is a French Conservative who believes in strong central government and strong national defense.  He said invading Afghanistan was definitely the right thing to do and was very proud that French soldiers served there.  He admitted the reason for invading Iraq was wrong—there were no WMDs and he believes the US knew it at the time—but he said the excuse led to the right action, which was to get rid of Saddam Hussein.  He admires George Bush for staying on course despite all criticism.  He was the only one at the table who admired the former president.

One of the best things about international travel is seeing the USA from a distance.  The US showed up in every newspaper.  Sarah Palin was on the cover of one.  But at this distance, commentators don’t exist.  Limbaugh, Beck, Savage and the other croaking toads that are so loud in America don’t exist here.  They do not lead.  They talk.  They never take responsibility.  Outside America, people analyze our actions, they don't listen to words on the radio.  

Empty Row To and From Paris

Sometimes life is so much better than you can hope for.  Most of the flights I have taken since coming back from Iraq are full and even beyond full—overbooked with gate agents offering a free flight to anyone who can wait another day to go home.

When I booked my flights to Paris and back, I followed my usual practice of getting an aisle seat as far back in the plane as I possibly can.  Both ways I was on a Delta/Air France flight.  They sold the ticket as Air France, but it was a Delta plane—a Boeing 757 that was built when the Beatles were still a group.  This long, narrow plane has 34 rows of  coach seating with three seats on either side of the center aisle and ten rows of first-class seating with two seats either side of the center—not quite 200 passengers if the plane is full.

On the way over we had just 57 passengers.  On the way back the gate agent said there were 70 empty seats.  From Row 37 back to Row 44, most of us had a row of seats to ourselves.  I have been eating and napping for the last four hours.  Travel to Europe does not get any better than this!

Touching Off an International Incident--in Brussels!

If the US goes to war with Iran over an incident in Brussels, Belgium, I just want to say in advance, "It was not my fault!"

On Sunday evening I flew to Paris for a conference.  Since air travel is SOOOOOO much nicer in uniform, and since I was actually on a drill weekend, I decided to wear my soldier suit for the trip over.

Now waiting in the security line at Philadelphia airport.  My oversize slightly overweight checked bag was not a problem.  (If you know there is a regulation against travel in uniform, just let me enjoy my ignorance.)  As I always do I booked an aisle seat as far back in the plane as I could.  As I got ready to board a very old extended range Boeing 757, the ground crew said there were only 50 passengers--I had three seats to myself.  A whole row---AAAHHHH!!!

But the plane was delayed for 45 minutes while they tried to fix a leak in the 40-year-old toilet.  We arrived late for Paris and I had to catch a train for Brussels that left 15 minutes after I got my bag.  I made the train, but was still in uniform.  No problem, I'll change in the bathroom.  I went into the bathroom when I got on the train.  The floor was sticky. I checked another car. Blue water on the floor.
When I got to Brussels, I met a colleague who was going with me for a site visit for an event in December.  She said we had to go right away, I did not have time to change.We got the facility, a beautiful meeting hall for 1200 people called The Square.  I took my camera (with a long lens) out of my pack and took pictures of the place we would set up a display.  Then the representative from The Square took us down to the actual meeting hall.  When we walked through the door to the lobby, there were a dozen dark-skinned men staring at me.  A couple of them were holding signage with Arabic symbols.  It turns out they were setting up for a meeting of the Iranian exile community in Europe the next day--in the main hall of The Square.

So I am standing in uniform with a camera in my hand looking at a bunch of Iranians getting ready for a party.

I decided I had seen enough of the meeting hall.  We went upstairs to talk about plans for December.

Wrapping up the numbers for 2010

It will soon be a year since I have returned from Iraq.  During this year, fewer people are reading the blog, but the surprising thing to me is that more than 2000 people per month at still visiting the blog, the lowest since my return, but more than I expected a year out.

Tomorrow is drill.  I won't be on duty Sunday because I am flying to France for a meeting.  It will be my first time out of the country on business since 2006.  Paris is my favorite city outside America.  It was my favorite city in the world, but New York is edging past.  Paris is beautiful.  New York is vibrant.  San Francisco is definitely third, and Singapore fourth.

In 2010 I rode fewer miles than in 2009!!  I am spending more time at work than I have in a decade and it shows in my riding logs.  But I have been spending more time running and in the gym.  I ran at least 60 miles each of the last four months in 2010 and should be able to continue the trend this month.  Maybe I will finally get the last few points on the PT Test and max it.  My last four PT tests have been 290 to 297, but never quite 300.

The verdict from S-1 is the only way I can retire is to get run over by a Humvee.  I'll probably stay as long as playing Army remains fun.

Happy Belated New Year!

Last in the How I Would Have Died series--Face/Off

Last Friday I wrote the last post in the series on How I Would Have Died if I Lived 100 Years Ago.  This time it was about how the plastic surgeon on duty in the Lancaster General Hospital Trauma Center put my face back together.

We have a CLS weekend coming up at drill--that's the acronym for Combat Life Saver.  I know it's important but I grew up when Lifesaver candy was popular.  Combat Life Saver sounds to me like circle-shaped, camouflaged candy.

How I Would Have Died--If I Lived 100 Years Ago, Lack of Protocols

Here's the latest way I would have died if I lived 100 years ago.  This time it is the lack of emergency care protocols back in 1911 and before.

How I Would Have Died--If I Lived 100 Years Ago: Traumatic Brain Injury

http://www.chemheritage.org/community/periodic-tabloid/2010-12-24-how-i-would-have-died.aspx

Christmas Eve I made the second the post about my worst bicycle racing accident.  The subject is traumatic brain injury.

And No Internet Service

Part of the reason I found out about the screwing I got from DirecTV was because I recently tried to change my internet provider.  I had DSL service from DEJAZZD of Denver Pa since 2002.  Last year an ISP named Windstream bought them out.

Dejazzd had great service.  So did Windstream, but it was 38.95 per month.  Verizon offered me 19.95 a month and included a discount on DirecTV and Land line phone service.

They said it would be no problem to switch.

I tried several times from before Christmas to after New Years to get service, but Verizon kept telling me the line was being held by someone else.  I had cancelled the Windstream service on Dec 20.  I had a cancellation order number.

Nothing Verizon could do.  Someone the line was now held by an ISP called Covad.  I had never done business with them.  They had no record of my phone number and they could not help me unless I had an account number.

So I called Windstream.  They no longer had any record of me being a customer.  No record of my name or phone number--even though they and the company they bought had received more than $4000 from me over the past eight years.

I am thinking fo going back to Comcast Cable.

Sigh!

Screwed by DirecTV

Friday I read an online post the named DirecTV as one of the 15 most hated corporations in America.  American Airlines led the list.  BP was #15.  DirecTV was #12.

I have DirecTV.  I signed up for it after returning from Iraq.  Like many things I did in the weeks after returning from Iraq, I believed what I heard more than I should have.  It turns out, the lower rate I was promised by DirecTV was a rebate.  It was a word I never heard in the sales pitch.

The DirecTV rep I spoke too last night apologized for the salesman's omission, but she said that I was supposed to notice that I was not getting the discount and contact DirecTV.  I had 90 days to do this which has long since expired.

She also told me my commitment was actually 24 months.  The initial commitment was for 12 months, but there was an additional 12-month commitment in some service I agreed to, which I did not know at the time.  I also had 90 days to revise this, but since I did not know it within 90 days, I cannot revise the contract now.

It will cost $20 per month to terminate the contract early.

Thanks for the Welcome Home DirecTV!!!!!

New Bike on First Trip to NYC

I did not actually buy a whole bike, just the frame.  I bought this frame because I wanted to have a bike I could take on AMTRAK that was also full size.  My Dahon folding bike with 20-inch wheels was fine for a short commute, but no fun to ride otherwise.

If you can see the silver couplers on the top tube and down tube near the seat tube, the couplers twist and the bike splits in two pieces.  It also has a quick disconnect on the rear brake cable and both shifter cables.  I could fold the Dahon in 30 seconds.  Taking this bike apart and putting it together will take longer.  It also has to be disassembled before I get to the train platform or I am going to have a dispute with the train crew.  So my commute will be a little longer with this bike than with the Dahon, but it will be better to ride.

When I picked up the frame I replaced, the brake mounting nut in the frame was stripped.  It would have been rideable, but not really safe, so it was probably better to replace that frame anyway.  That makes three bikes in three months that have been stolen, smashed and broken.

Bill at Bike Line said the Dahon is junk after the SUV ran it over.  No surprise there.

At the end of the train ride to NYC, I will assemble the bike, ride it to the hotel, change for a business meeting then ride later in Central Park.  The next test point will be boarding the train in NYC to go home.

Report Filed!!!

Today, I called the Phila police again.  This time the operator said I could report on the phone if I worked with the local precinct.

I called.

They took the report.

It took ten minutes.

Tonight I will drop the bike off at BikeLine of Lancaster to see if it is "totalled".

Still Reporting the Bike Accident

At 130 pm today I called the Philadelphia police and asked to make a statement about the accident on the phone.  They said they would send an officer to take the statement in person because the driver left the scene.  I gave them the address of the 7-story half-block long building where I work.  I waited until 430 pm.  No one came to the door.  There is a receptionist in the lobby till 415 pm.

Yesterday, I called 911 at the scene.  They said three different times they were sending someone.  On the third call, the operator said I was not there.  I did not move from the front of Sovereign Bank at 11th and Market from the time I made the call until 40 minutes later when I left.  I am six feet tall.  I had a bike.  The officer who responded said no one was their.

There is only one bank on that corner.

Tomorrow I am going to call at 845 am when I arrive at my office.  That way there will be eight hours for the police to show up.  I will let you know if thy could not find the building.

Reporting the Bike Accident

After waiting 40 minutes for the Philadelphia Police NOT to show up, I had given up on the reporting the accident.  But my wife said as a matter of justice I should report it.  So I am going to try today.  I am already leaving on the late train for work, so it will be difficult, but she's right.  The guy in the Lincoln SUV ran a red light then ran over the bike.  He would leave the scene with a dead kid in the road.

Now some of you may wonder if I think riding in Philly more dangerous than riding with the rednecks in Southern Lancaster County.

No.

I still prefer Philly to Solanco.  The fat guys in pickup trucks with faded McCain-Palin stickers on their F-150s actually hate people who use two feet of road.

Bike Accident in Phila--No Injury

Today I was supposed to be at the Parent Teachers Organization meeting.  I left work at 420 pm, but my trip was delayed by a Lincoln SUV that ran a red light and ran over the front wheel of my folding bike.  I jumped off the bike seeing that was was running the light and thinking he would not avoid hitting me.

The guy had a vanity plate BY TRIO so I can report the accident.  I called 911 and tried to report it.  I waited at 11th and market for a half hour.  I told the dispatcher I was in front of Sovereign Bank.  I called 20 minutes later, the dispatcher said the police were enroute.  Ten minutes later I called again.  this dispatcher said he would send the supervisor.  He tried to say the police went by and there was no one there.  I had not moved for a half hour.  Ten minutes later I called and said I was leaving for Lancaster.

I am a member of the US Government as a soldier.  I want the government to be there to fix roads and sewers and show up at accidents, but I also know that I am always unhappy when I am subject to the whims of a government agent.  The comedy at 11th and Market made no difference because I was not hurt.  And now if I want to get my bike fixed, I will have to fill out forms with same police department and have to have a judge decide the case when the SUV driver lies about every detail of the incident.

The incident has only cost me an hour and a PTO meeting so far.  I'll find out later how much the bike repair is.

Perpetuating Mediocrity

One of the reasons the motor platoon has such a high pass rate on the PT test is, oddly enough, that the training NCO for our unit is such a stickler for everyone meeting or exceeding the published standard on the test. He fails people who miss the run by ten seconds and who miss the minimum by one pushup or situp. We are a National Guard unit and many active units will allow more slack than we do. But by forcing everyone to meet the standard, eventually everyone really does--except one sergeant. But 98% is very high for any unit and beyond the moon for the National Guard.

But he is not in charge of all training and performance in other areas it is clear how our socialist group both forces us to conform and helps us when we don't. In February, many of us went to the rifle range for two days--one day to zero, one day for qualification. The qualification consists of firing 40 rounds at pop-up targets from 50 to 300 meters distance. To qualify as a marksman, you must hit 23 of 40 targets. To be a sharpshooter or expert requires 33 and 37 hits respectively the first time you fire. If you get less than 23 the first time, no matter how many hits you get the second time you score only as a marksman. But when we were on the range, one soldier scored less than 23 five times. At the end of the day when the people who run the range wanted to go home, this soldier went to position 11 with 40 rounds. At positions 10 and 12 were two range instructors. Miraculously, the soldier who failed to qualify five times hit 40 out of 40. That soldier should have been scored as a Marksman, and hopefully that soldier will have other people who can shoot nearby in a firefight. But the scoring system broke down when a sergeant major showed up. Hearing that a soldier shot 40 of 40, he presented the soldier with a commemorative coin (a standard token for a very good job). So our records indicate this soldier is our top expert marksman. Once the fudging starts, it is hard to stop. Those instructors could not admit they were nailing targets.

Remember Sgt. Oblivious? After he was relieved from his job as a squad leader, he was not formally removed, so he was still squad leader on his soldier's records. So he signed the awards that others rewrote. By putting an electronic signature on these documents, he has proof that he is competent at writing awards when he next comes up for promotion. If the awards were not rewritten his squad members would have suffered. Because they were rewritten, the Army suffers because a thoroughly incompetent soldier has proof he can write awards.

One thing I thought I would get a one-year break from in a war zone is all the gray areas of modern life. But the Army is part of modern life and it is as gray in here as it is on the outside--with an olive drab tinge.

A Letter on a New Yorker Poddcast

Today's Political Scene podcast by the New Yorker magazine has a short letter I wrote about Sarah Palin. You can listen here.  The letter is at about minute 14.
http://www.newyorker.com/online/2011/01/03/110103on_audio_politicalscene

Single Father Deployed to Afghanistan--Read to the End

Another great story about 87th Infantry deployment to Afghanistan and its effect on families.  Read the story to the end.

In NYC for Post Christmas Shopping

What a contrast from last Christmas.  In Iraq last year, Christmas was 90 degrees, sunny, dusty and an extravaganza of food.  Two days later I was on a flight to Al Kut, Baghdad and Balad.

This year Christmas was a calm day at my father-in-law's house near Washington DC.  Christmas night, four of my kids and I drove to Lancaster.  After Church we loaded the car and drove to New York City--actually Trenton, then the rest of the way by train.

The weather was clear for about 20 miles then more and more snow.  We passed six accidents and almost became one ourselves when some slowed to look at other accidents.  After two and a half hours of sliding, we made ti to Trenton station.  Another 90 minutes and we were in Penn Station and on the way to our hotel in Times Square.  The blizzard was howling when we left the subway.  We struggled two blocks to the hotel then checked in.  Even through the snow Times Square was pulsing bright with ads on two-story electronic billboards.  Jacari saw NYC for the first time stepping out of the subway staircase and said, "Awesome!  This is like Hollywood!"

The gym was closed by the time we arrived, but the Crown Plaza has 46 floors so we could run up the stairs and either walk back down (which Lisa did all three times) or take the elevator, which I did two of three times.

We changed and went three blocks to the Marriott Marquis so the kids could ride the glass elevators up to The View--the 60th floor restaurant.  We struggled another couple of blocks and had pizza for dinner.

Today, I am sitting in Starbucks while the kids shop the few vendors who opened on Canal Street.