Tuesday, May 1, 2012
Tuesday, July 27, 2010
Texas Justice per the Economist Magazine
The US proudly leads the world with 748 people behind bars per 100,000 population. And to no one's surprise, Texas leads the US. Overcrowding is so bad that in the story below, the man was put in solitary confinement and had two roommates. Read below and see that the 65 year old with Parkinson's disease got what was coming to him. I know that is how I want my tax dollars spent.
THREE pickup trucks pulled up outside George Norris’s home in Spring, Texas. Six armed police in flak jackets jumped out. Thinking they must have come to the wrong place, Mr Norris opened his front door, and was startled to be shoved against a wall and frisked for weapons. He was forced into a chair for four hours while officers ransacked his house. They pulled out drawers, rifled through papers, dumped things on the floor and eventually loaded 37 boxes of Mr Norris’s possessions onto their pickups. They refused to tell him what he had done wrong. “It wasn’t fun, I can tell you that,” he recalls.
Mr Norris was 65 years old at the time, and a collector of orchids. He eventually discovered that he was suspected of smuggling the flowers into America, an offence under the Convention on International Trade in Endangered Species. This came as a shock. He did indeed import flowers and sell them to other orchid-lovers. And it was true that his suppliers in Latin America were sometimes sloppy about their paperwork. In a shipment of many similar-looking plants, it was rare for each permit to match each orchid precisely.
In March 2004, five months after the raid, Mr Norris was indicted, handcuffed and thrown into a cell with a suspected murderer and two suspected drug-dealers. When told why he was there, “they thought it hilarious.” One asked: “What do you do with these things? Smoke ’em?”
Prosecutors described Mr Norris as the “kingpin” of an international smuggling ring. He was dumbfounded: his annual profits were never more than about $20,000. When prosecutors suggested that he should inform on other smugglers in return for a lighter sentence, he refused, insisting he knew nothing beyond hearsay.
He pleaded innocent. But an undercover federal agent had ordered some orchids from him, a few of which arrived without the correct papers. For this, he was charged with making a false statement to a government official, a federal crime punishable by up to five years in prison. Since he had communicated with his suppliers, he was charged with conspiracy, which also carries a potential five-year term.
As his legal bills exploded, Mr Norris reluctantly changed his plea to guilty, though he still protests his innocence. He was sentenced to 17 months in prison. After some time, he was released while his appeal was heard, but then put back inside. His health suffered: he has Parkinson’s disease, which was not helped by the strain of imprisonment. For bringing some prescription sleeping pills into prison, he was put in solitary confinement for 71 days. The prison was so crowded, however, that even in solitary he had two room-mates.
THREE pickup trucks pulled up outside George Norris’s home in Spring, Texas. Six armed police in flak jackets jumped out. Thinking they must have come to the wrong place, Mr Norris opened his front door, and was startled to be shoved against a wall and frisked for weapons. He was forced into a chair for four hours while officers ransacked his house. They pulled out drawers, rifled through papers, dumped things on the floor and eventually loaded 37 boxes of Mr Norris’s possessions onto their pickups. They refused to tell him what he had done wrong. “It wasn’t fun, I can tell you that,” he recalls.
Mr Norris was 65 years old at the time, and a collector of orchids. He eventually discovered that he was suspected of smuggling the flowers into America, an offence under the Convention on International Trade in Endangered Species. This came as a shock. He did indeed import flowers and sell them to other orchid-lovers. And it was true that his suppliers in Latin America were sometimes sloppy about their paperwork. In a shipment of many similar-looking plants, it was rare for each permit to match each orchid precisely.
In March 2004, five months after the raid, Mr Norris was indicted, handcuffed and thrown into a cell with a suspected murderer and two suspected drug-dealers. When told why he was there, “they thought it hilarious.” One asked: “What do you do with these things? Smoke ’em?”
Prosecutors described Mr Norris as the “kingpin” of an international smuggling ring. He was dumbfounded: his annual profits were never more than about $20,000. When prosecutors suggested that he should inform on other smugglers in return for a lighter sentence, he refused, insisting he knew nothing beyond hearsay.
He pleaded innocent. But an undercover federal agent had ordered some orchids from him, a few of which arrived without the correct papers. For this, he was charged with making a false statement to a government official, a federal crime punishable by up to five years in prison. Since he had communicated with his suppliers, he was charged with conspiracy, which also carries a potential five-year term.
As his legal bills exploded, Mr Norris reluctantly changed his plea to guilty, though he still protests his innocence. He was sentenced to 17 months in prison. After some time, he was released while his appeal was heard, but then put back inside. His health suffered: he has Parkinson’s disease, which was not helped by the strain of imprisonment. For bringing some prescription sleeping pills into prison, he was put in solitary confinement for 71 days. The prison was so crowded, however, that even in solitary he had two room-mates.
Wednesday, June 16, 2010
Plagiarized - Why I Returned My iPad by Peter Bregman
A little more than a week after buying the iPad, I returned it to Apple. The problem wasn't the iPad exactly, though it has some flaws. The problem was me.
I like technology, but I'm not an early adopter. I waited for the second-generation iPod, the second-generation iPhone, and the second-generation MacBook Air.
But the iPad was different. So sleek. So cool. So transformational. And, I figured, since it's so similar to the iPhone, most of the kinks would already be worked out.
So at 4 PM on the day the 3G iPad was released, for the first time in my life, I waited in line for two hours to make a purchase.
I set up my iPad in the store because I wanted to make sure I could start using it the very moment I bought it. And use it I did. I carried it with me everywhere; it's so small and thin and light, why not bring it along?
I did my email on it, of course. But I also wrote articles using Pages. I watched episodes of Weeds on Netflix. I checked the news, the weather, and the traffic. And, of course, I proudly showed it to, well, anyone who indicated the least bit of interest. (That could be a whole post in itself. We proudly show off new purchases as though simply possessing them is some form of accomplishment. Why? I didn't create the iPad. I just bought one.)
It didn't take long for me to encounter the dark side of this revolutionary device: it's too good.
It's too easy. Too accessible. Both too fast and too long-lasting. Certainly there are some kinks, but nothing monumental. For the most part, it does everything I could want. Which, as it turns out, is a problem.
Sure I might want to watch an episode of Weeds before going to sleep. But should I? It really is hard to stop after just one episode. And two hours later, I'm entertained and tired, but am I really better off? Or would it have been better to get seven hours of sleep instead of five?
The brilliance of the iPad is that it's the anytime-anywhere computer. On the subway. In the hall waiting for the elevator. In a car on the way to the airport. Any free moment becomes a potential iPad moment.
The iPhone can do roughly the same thing, but not exactly. Who wants to watch a movie in bed on an iPhone?
So why is this a problem? It sounds like I was super-productive. Every extra minute, I was either producing or consuming.
But something — more than just sleep, though that's critical too — is lost in the busyness. Something too valuable to lose.
Boredom.
Being bored is a precious thing, a state of mind we should pursue. Once boredom sets in, our minds begin to wander, looking for something exciting, something interesting to land on. And that's where creativity arises.
My best ideas come to me when I am unproductive. When I am running but not listening to my iPod. When I am sitting, doing nothing, waiting for someone. When I am lying in bed as my mind wanders before falling to sleep. These "wasted" moments, moments not filled with anything in particular, are vital.
They are the moments in which we, often unconsciously, organize our minds, make sense of our lives, and connect the dots. They're the moments in which we talk to ourselves. And listen.
To lose those moments, to replace them with tasks and efficiency, is a mistake. What's worse is that we don't just lose them. We actively throw them away.
"That's not a problem with the iPad," my brother Anthony — who I feel compelled to mention is currently producing a movie called My Idiot Brother — pointed out. "It's a problem with you. Just don't use it as much."
Guilty as charged. It is a problem with me. I can't not use it if it's there. And, unfortunately, it's always there. So I returned it. Problem solved.
But it did teach me something about the value of boredom. And I'm far more conscious now of using those extra moments, the in-between time, the walking and riding and waiting time, to let my mind wander.
Around the same time I returned my iPad, I noticed that my eight-year-old daughter Isabelle was unbelievably busy from the moment she got home from school to the moment she went to bed. Bathing, reading, playing guitar, eating dinner, doing homework, she was non-stop until I rushed her off to bed. Once in bed she would try to talk to me but, worried about how little sleep she was getting, I would shush her, urging her to go to sleep.
We have a new ritual now, and it really has become my favorite part of the day. I put her to bed 15 minutes earlier than before. She crawls into bed and, instead of shushing her, I lie next to her and we just talk. She talks about things that happened that day, things she's worried about, things she's curious or thinking about. I listen and ask her questions. We laugh together. And our minds just wander
I like technology, but I'm not an early adopter. I waited for the second-generation iPod, the second-generation iPhone, and the second-generation MacBook Air.
But the iPad was different. So sleek. So cool. So transformational. And, I figured, since it's so similar to the iPhone, most of the kinks would already be worked out.
So at 4 PM on the day the 3G iPad was released, for the first time in my life, I waited in line for two hours to make a purchase.
I set up my iPad in the store because I wanted to make sure I could start using it the very moment I bought it. And use it I did. I carried it with me everywhere; it's so small and thin and light, why not bring it along?
I did my email on it, of course. But I also wrote articles using Pages. I watched episodes of Weeds on Netflix. I checked the news, the weather, and the traffic. And, of course, I proudly showed it to, well, anyone who indicated the least bit of interest. (That could be a whole post in itself. We proudly show off new purchases as though simply possessing them is some form of accomplishment. Why? I didn't create the iPad. I just bought one.)
It didn't take long for me to encounter the dark side of this revolutionary device: it's too good.
It's too easy. Too accessible. Both too fast and too long-lasting. Certainly there are some kinks, but nothing monumental. For the most part, it does everything I could want. Which, as it turns out, is a problem.
Sure I might want to watch an episode of Weeds before going to sleep. But should I? It really is hard to stop after just one episode. And two hours later, I'm entertained and tired, but am I really better off? Or would it have been better to get seven hours of sleep instead of five?
The brilliance of the iPad is that it's the anytime-anywhere computer. On the subway. In the hall waiting for the elevator. In a car on the way to the airport. Any free moment becomes a potential iPad moment.
The iPhone can do roughly the same thing, but not exactly. Who wants to watch a movie in bed on an iPhone?
So why is this a problem? It sounds like I was super-productive. Every extra minute, I was either producing or consuming.
But something — more than just sleep, though that's critical too — is lost in the busyness. Something too valuable to lose.
Boredom.
Being bored is a precious thing, a state of mind we should pursue. Once boredom sets in, our minds begin to wander, looking for something exciting, something interesting to land on. And that's where creativity arises.
My best ideas come to me when I am unproductive. When I am running but not listening to my iPod. When I am sitting, doing nothing, waiting for someone. When I am lying in bed as my mind wanders before falling to sleep. These "wasted" moments, moments not filled with anything in particular, are vital.
They are the moments in which we, often unconsciously, organize our minds, make sense of our lives, and connect the dots. They're the moments in which we talk to ourselves. And listen.
To lose those moments, to replace them with tasks and efficiency, is a mistake. What's worse is that we don't just lose them. We actively throw them away.
"That's not a problem with the iPad," my brother Anthony — who I feel compelled to mention is currently producing a movie called My Idiot Brother — pointed out. "It's a problem with you. Just don't use it as much."
Guilty as charged. It is a problem with me. I can't not use it if it's there. And, unfortunately, it's always there. So I returned it. Problem solved.
But it did teach me something about the value of boredom. And I'm far more conscious now of using those extra moments, the in-between time, the walking and riding and waiting time, to let my mind wander.
Around the same time I returned my iPad, I noticed that my eight-year-old daughter Isabelle was unbelievably busy from the moment she got home from school to the moment she went to bed. Bathing, reading, playing guitar, eating dinner, doing homework, she was non-stop until I rushed her off to bed. Once in bed she would try to talk to me but, worried about how little sleep she was getting, I would shush her, urging her to go to sleep.
We have a new ritual now, and it really has become my favorite part of the day. I put her to bed 15 minutes earlier than before. She crawls into bed and, instead of shushing her, I lie next to her and we just talk. She talks about things that happened that day, things she's worried about, things she's curious or thinking about. I listen and ask her questions. We laugh together. And our minds just wander
Sunday, June 13, 2010
Happiness is ....
Happiness seems to be a popular topic these days on the airwaves. I’ve heard some interesting statistics:
• Per a Harvard study, most people would rather live in a community where they make $50,000 and everyone else makes $25,000 than make $100,000 and everyone else makes $200,000. Me too.
• Per 60 Minutes, Danes are the happiest people in the world. They attribute this to low expectations; they don’t feel pressure to improve their lot in life.
• The happiest groups of people are the very young and those over 50. I can attest to the over 50 but can’t remember the very young, though the grandchildren seem pretty happy.
• Serious illness does not negatively affect happiness beyond a couple of months with three exceptions … depression, acute pain and sleep disorder.
The one that resonated best with me was a CSPAN speech to the American Enterprise Institute. The author convincingly argued that happiness is best measured in a person’s feeling of their own earned success. Unearned success doesn’t lead to sustained happiness. Studies show that lottery winners, people who receive a large inheritance or welfare recipients get a short lived bump in happiness but then sink into depression, alcoholism and the like. They don’t enjoy spending the money. They didn’t earn it.
It is not just about money. Earned success can be measured in money but also in children you’ve taught, illness you’ve cured, people you’ve helped, the children you’ve raised, etc. When you feel good about yourself, that you have done something good; you will be grateful, you will care about other people more than yourself and you will be happy.
• Per a Harvard study, most people would rather live in a community where they make $50,000 and everyone else makes $25,000 than make $100,000 and everyone else makes $200,000. Me too.
• Per 60 Minutes, Danes are the happiest people in the world. They attribute this to low expectations; they don’t feel pressure to improve their lot in life.
• The happiest groups of people are the very young and those over 50. I can attest to the over 50 but can’t remember the very young, though the grandchildren seem pretty happy.
• Serious illness does not negatively affect happiness beyond a couple of months with three exceptions … depression, acute pain and sleep disorder.
The one that resonated best with me was a CSPAN speech to the American Enterprise Institute. The author convincingly argued that happiness is best measured in a person’s feeling of their own earned success. Unearned success doesn’t lead to sustained happiness. Studies show that lottery winners, people who receive a large inheritance or welfare recipients get a short lived bump in happiness but then sink into depression, alcoholism and the like. They don’t enjoy spending the money. They didn’t earn it.
It is not just about money. Earned success can be measured in money but also in children you’ve taught, illness you’ve cured, people you’ve helped, the children you’ve raised, etc. When you feel good about yourself, that you have done something good; you will be grateful, you will care about other people more than yourself and you will be happy.
Wednesday, June 2, 2010
Who Says We Need Water
I was recently reminded why I dislike the government running things. Now I’m sure you are thinking, “Didn’t he use this forum to support government health care?” Guilty as charged but that was different. Health care does not operate in a free, capitalistic market and what we have is severely broken and getting worse. Now, let’s get on tack on track.
I had a water leak. So much so that I ran up a bill of over $2,000 before I knew it. Here is some background you need to know. In an effort to support conservation (with which I agree), the rate goes up with usage. The first 10,000 gallons for a month is priced at $2.50 per thousand gallons. After 15,000 gallons the rate has escalated to $8 per thousand gallons. I leaked over 200,000 gallons. (The oil leak in the gulf didn’t have much on me.) The net result being that I paid the $8 rate on just about all of it. The water company invited me to their board meeting to protest my bill. This sounded like fun.
The day arrived and I pled my case trying to get their sympathy as a customer and neighbor. They explained that the water was gone and somebody had to pay for it. I agreed and said I wanted to pay for what I used. However, my leak was more an act of nature than gross consumption. Therefore it would be reasonable to charge me the $2.50 rate rather than the punitive $8 rate. They countered saying I needed to pay my full bill and the reason is very logical. They have this rule book and the rule book says I have to pay. (At this point I paused and looked around. It appeared to be a pretty conservative bunch and I doubt they had any idea that I was the Grayson County citizen that had voted for Obama.) I said that I disagreed, that I didn’t think it was logical and that it reminded me of my worst fears about the new national healthcare. My fear is that I have an illness where there is a known solution but some government bureaucrat is reading out of a manual saying nope, we got to do this other thing that doesn’t work. I made my point but I sensed I was now losing the sympathy vote. They countered with "You need to pay for the water you use." I said, “I will, what does it cost?” To my amazement, not a single water board member had a clue what water costs. They knew that they spent $17,000 on electricity last month and that electricity was their highest expense, surprisingly more than the water. They knew they lost $42,000 in the first 4 months of 2010 but it should be made up in the summer. But they had no idea what a gallon of water cost them. I could have offered to calculate it for them, it would have been simple, but I was speechless. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing and that they didn’t seem to think it was a problem. The water board didn’t know what water cost and could care less. Dumbfounded, I thanked them and left.
I had a water leak. So much so that I ran up a bill of over $2,000 before I knew it. Here is some background you need to know. In an effort to support conservation (with which I agree), the rate goes up with usage. The first 10,000 gallons for a month is priced at $2.50 per thousand gallons. After 15,000 gallons the rate has escalated to $8 per thousand gallons. I leaked over 200,000 gallons. (The oil leak in the gulf didn’t have much on me.) The net result being that I paid the $8 rate on just about all of it. The water company invited me to their board meeting to protest my bill. This sounded like fun.
The day arrived and I pled my case trying to get their sympathy as a customer and neighbor. They explained that the water was gone and somebody had to pay for it. I agreed and said I wanted to pay for what I used. However, my leak was more an act of nature than gross consumption. Therefore it would be reasonable to charge me the $2.50 rate rather than the punitive $8 rate. They countered saying I needed to pay my full bill and the reason is very logical. They have this rule book and the rule book says I have to pay. (At this point I paused and looked around. It appeared to be a pretty conservative bunch and I doubt they had any idea that I was the Grayson County citizen that had voted for Obama.) I said that I disagreed, that I didn’t think it was logical and that it reminded me of my worst fears about the new national healthcare. My fear is that I have an illness where there is a known solution but some government bureaucrat is reading out of a manual saying nope, we got to do this other thing that doesn’t work. I made my point but I sensed I was now losing the sympathy vote. They countered with "You need to pay for the water you use." I said, “I will, what does it cost?” To my amazement, not a single water board member had a clue what water costs. They knew that they spent $17,000 on electricity last month and that electricity was their highest expense, surprisingly more than the water. They knew they lost $42,000 in the first 4 months of 2010 but it should be made up in the summer. But they had no idea what a gallon of water cost them. I could have offered to calculate it for them, it would have been simple, but I was speechless. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing and that they didn’t seem to think it was a problem. The water board didn’t know what water cost and could care less. Dumbfounded, I thanked them and left.
Thursday, May 27, 2010
Cow Sense
Michael and his lovely girlfriend Angela came to visit this past week. They were here only a short time before I was reminded of 7 year old Michael when he declared “Cow bones are my life.” I struggled with this for some time, trying to find the deep wisdom. I owned cows at the time and was not impressed. They were nowhere near as smart as any dog, cat or horse I had gotten to know. In fact, they crap in their food. That which doesn’t land in their food they tend to wear around as some form of fashion statement, one that I hope never catches on. What could cows be telling Michael?
Then one day I realized the cows had taught me something profound. Occasionally, you need to move cows to another pasture, to the barn or off your neighbor’s property. Modern day urban cowboys like me use 4-wheelers instead of a horse (horses don’t listen to me either). Ever try to herd a cow. It does not work with today’s cows … and you only irritate them. What does work is a bag of food on the back of the 4-wheeler. Communicate what you have to offer the cow and she will follow you anywhere.
This is not unlike management today. The day of command and control Marine style is dying. Today, we need to communicate with the group and they need to want to follow you. I have found women are better at this style of management than men. Besides having caught up with men in math and science and having most of the university degrees by a growing margin; they have the right temperament and will be the future leaders. They have moved beyond being just teachers and nurses as was the case when I was a 7 year old. You know how you hear people say today that fifty is the new forty (sixty is the new forty in my case). Let me be the first to tell you, women are the new men. A profound thought taught by cows. Hopefully we won’t start learning from ants where the females keep only a very few males. “Male ants, which come from unfertilized eggs, typically serve one purpose: to mate with a queen. Males are usually in short supply, and a queen produces male eggs only when it's time to make more colonies. Males, which have short life spans, die shortly after mating.”
Then one day I realized the cows had taught me something profound. Occasionally, you need to move cows to another pasture, to the barn or off your neighbor’s property. Modern day urban cowboys like me use 4-wheelers instead of a horse (horses don’t listen to me either). Ever try to herd a cow. It does not work with today’s cows … and you only irritate them. What does work is a bag of food on the back of the 4-wheeler. Communicate what you have to offer the cow and she will follow you anywhere.
This is not unlike management today. The day of command and control Marine style is dying. Today, we need to communicate with the group and they need to want to follow you. I have found women are better at this style of management than men. Besides having caught up with men in math and science and having most of the university degrees by a growing margin; they have the right temperament and will be the future leaders. They have moved beyond being just teachers and nurses as was the case when I was a 7 year old. You know how you hear people say today that fifty is the new forty (sixty is the new forty in my case). Let me be the first to tell you, women are the new men. A profound thought taught by cows. Hopefully we won’t start learning from ants where the females keep only a very few males. “Male ants, which come from unfertilized eggs, typically serve one purpose: to mate with a queen. Males are usually in short supply, and a queen produces male eggs only when it's time to make more colonies. Males, which have short life spans, die shortly after mating.”
Wednesday, April 14, 2010
New Must Have Gadget
I blogged a few times ago about Shirley leaving her cell phone at a restaurant. She is not the first person to do so nor the last. It is a serious problem as your phone becomes evermore critical in defining who you are. ... and it won't be long before it is also our primary payment device, replacing plastic cards. It is not something you want to leave behind.
Enter the new ZOMM. A bluetooth connected attachment to your key chain. Get more than 35 feet from your cell and it starts to vibrate, light up and beep. A savior if you are going to your car, not so good if you're entering the restroom. You need to get used to asking for a table within 35 feet of the restroom. Otherwise you will probably start leaving your keys at the table with your phone. This works if you're driving, but what if you rode with someone else. oops.
Enter the new ZOMM. A bluetooth connected attachment to your key chain. Get more than 35 feet from your cell and it starts to vibrate, light up and beep. A savior if you are going to your car, not so good if you're entering the restroom. You need to get used to asking for a table within 35 feet of the restroom. Otherwise you will probably start leaving your keys at the table with your phone. This works if you're driving, but what if you rode with someone else. oops.
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