The Barbaric Yawp

Tuesday, August 17, 2004

Celebration of Light, Part III

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Monday, August 16, 2004

Garlic fries and Ichirolls

Reiko and I made our annual pilgrimage to Safeco Field yesterday. We’ve been doing it since Reiko became a besuboru fan several years ago with the advent of Japanese players in the US leagues. Now, I’ve been going to Mariners games for 27 years and they almost invariably lost. Since Reiko has joined me, we have yet to see them boot one. The Mariners, according to this logic, should give us free season tickets, thereby assuring themselves of at least 81 wins.

We got to see Ichiro beat the Yankees. Well, OK, he had some help. But he didn’t need much. The Zen Master of baseball homered in his first at-bat, went three-for-four, walked once and stole two bases. His batting average is now .362 and he’s 15 hits away from his fourth 200-hit season. I think this is called being “in the zone.” Would that it were contagious. Of course, Ichiro seems to be in a previously undefined zone.

You gotta love how he keeps making sportswriters look like idiots. Not that they need any help. They saw how his batting average declined for his sophomore and junior years and concluded that major league pitchers had figured out how to keep him from getting on base. Myopia is not unusual in sportswriting. Ichiro batted .328 in 2002 and .312 last year. Yeah, .312 is a bad year for him, but he still managed well over 200 hits.

I have to admit that I had moments of doubt about his powers when he started this year off sluggishly. Then came the month of May and something caused Ichiro to kick in the afterburner. He had five hits in a game two times in six days during July and, unless someone puts Rohypnol in his rice balls, seems destined to set new marks for 50-hit months, both in one season and in a career.

All well and good, but baseball fans and sportswriters alike tend to ignore the fact that baseball requires defensive skills. Here, too, Ichiro continues the type of play that has won him three gold gloves in three years and seen right field designated as Area 51 when he’s on patrol. Nobody has tested his arm lately, even though he unleashes one from right field to third on occasion just to keep everybody honest.

It was a most satisfying day at one of baseball’s most beautiful facilities. We did have the garlic fries since no human being I know of can resist that smell. We did not have Ichirolls because it is something concocted for American tastes in sushi. Once your palate has become more educated, you wonder why they get away with calling such junk sushi in the first place.

One of the highlights of the day was when a beer vendor asked for my ID. At first, I thought he was joking, but he made me take my license out and hand it to him. Reiko later spotted someone being busted by the state booze cops. I'd rather not have known.

One of our regional grocery chains, headquartered here in Bellingham, offers package deals where you can take the train from Bellingham and catch a game before riding the rails back in the afternoon. King Street Station in Seattle is only a two-block walk from Safeco field. This is a huge gift to those of us who would rather listen to Dubya explain the theory of evolution than drive to Seattle.

It is a serene and beautiful ride that takes just over two hours. Amtrak and the Washington State Department of Transportation cooperate to provide service along the I-5 corridor from Vancouver, BC, to Portland, OR. They have fancy new train sets from a Spanish company called Talgo. What they don’t have are railroad beds that can take advantage of the new equipment.

In theory, these trains should be able to cruise along at about 140 mph. Instead they are confined to one short stretch where they can actually crank it up to 79 mph. One nasty curve north of Everett requires the train to slow to about 20 mph. The ride is generally pretty rough even in the best stretches. Our engineer pointed out that there is one short stretch where the track actually dates from the 1930s when 90-foot sections of rail were bolted together, thus producing the proverbial clickety-clack sound many of us grew up with.

If you’ve ever ridden Shinkansen in Japan, you realize just how much better rail service could be if this country could just get its transportation priorities straight. I rode on one of those babies at 175 mph and the rail car never twitched. I’ve always been a railroad nut and it saddens me to see what has become of our American system.

Science fiction author R. A. Lafferty wrote a seminal short story back in the late 1960s called “Interurban Queen.” It describes an alternative world in which certain wealthy American investors chose to put their resources into light rail instead of the automobile back at the turn of the previous century. It’s enough to make you cry for what could have been. If you can’t find it under the author’s name, try looking for it in an anthology called Orbit 8, edited by Damon Knight.

3:57:38 PM    comment []

Dubya is full of it and so is the latest Virtual Occoquan. I'm talking about corn. What were you thinking? Click on the link to the left and enjoy the best of the blogs.
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Saturday, August 14, 2004

Friend of small business?

Those of you who might be harboring any delusions as to how friendly our current president is to small business should take a lesson from his visit to Seattle yesterday. Bushieboy paid a visit to the home of a wealthy supporter for a $5,000 a plate fundraising dinner.

Citing security precautions, the Secret Service banned all flights in and out of Lake Union and Lake Washington. Fine. But Kenmore Air is the primary connection from Seattle to the San Juan Islands, Victoria and Vancouver, not to mention hunters, fishermen and backpackers in the remote wilderness of the Pacific Northwest.

So Kenmore Air lost a full day of business because Bushieboy thought he needed even more money than he already has to wage his mudslinging smear campaign against John Kerry. Kenmore Air lost about $75,000. Bush raised about $2.5 million. You'd think that a compassionate conservative would somehow see to it that Kenmore Air was reimbursed for their losses. You'd be wrong.

The Republican National Committee, awash in campaign contributions, noted that it was the Secret Service that issued the order to close down the airspace. Therefore, according to their twisted reasoning, it is the Secret Service's responsibility to compensate business losses. That means you and me, Bucko.

So far, Kenmore Air has received no compensation. But if they do, it will come at taxpayer expense. Does this make it clear to you Bush supporters which side your loserboy is on? Probably not. There are none so blind as those who will not see.

I wonder if there were any Bush supporters out there in the wilderness that Bush would love to eliminate. I wonder if they panicked when their transportation didn't show up as scheduled. I wonder if they will figure out who was to blame.

I guess we shouldn't expect too much of the mentally impaired. Even though one of them almost got elected president.

11:04:20 AM    comment []

Friday, August 13, 2004

Celebration of Light, Part II

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Wednesday, August 11, 2004

Celebration of light, Part I

Each year, the City of Vancouver, BC, hosts a spectacular fireworks contest. It used to be called Symphony of Fire and was sponsored by a tobacco company. That is obviously not politically correct in this postmodern age and the ever-polite Canadians accepted this with good grace. It is now called Celebration of Light and is sponsored by a bank.

Having done business in Canada, I have to question whether that nation's banks are any less odious that the pushers of nicotine. But that's another story. The contest is held on four Wednesdays and Saturdays in August. Three nations compete individually, then they combine forces for a grand finale on the last night.

This year, China, Spain and Sweden were the invited guests. You would think that China, having invented fireworks, would win in a walk. Much to everyone's surprise, Sweden took top honors this year with a truly creative display. Reiko and I always attend, although I rarely make all of the shows. I got to see Sweden's effort and have no quarrel with the judges.

We were fortunate enough to have the best seat in the house for the grand finale. Jim Grutzke is a native German who came to Whistler 27 years ago when it wasn't even a narrow spot in the road. Over the years, this entrepreneurial visionary established a number of retail businesses, along with Haus Heidi (www.hausheidi.com ) one of the resort's premier pensions.

By the time I arrived in Whistler in 1997, Jim owned a very successful sportswear shop called Alpine International. It happened to be right across from my art gallery. Jim was extraordinarily helpful to me as I was creating Northern Lights Gallery. He also employed a stunning Japanese woman named Reiko who became the love of my life after an extended flirtation across the hallway.

Jim is, in polite Canadian terms, financially secure. He recently bought a condo on the 27th floor of a Vancouver building overlooking English Bay, where the fireworks take place. The 28th floor is the rooftop. You knew I'd get to the point eventually, didn't you?

Jim invited us to view the finale from that rooftop. As I said, it is the best seat in the house. I took a lot of photos of that penultimate explosion and will be posting them over the next couple of weeks. Some of them, I left alone. But fireworks photos lend themselves to being tampered with in PhotoPaint. The best way to deal with such temptation, I have found, is to give in. Enjoy.

Now, I'm going to enjoy another fireworks show. It's just about cool enough that I can plant myself in the hot tub and enjoy the Perseid meteor shower. Care to join me?

11:05:31 PM    comment []

Monday, August 09, 2004

Sic semper tyrannis

“Justice without force is powerless; force without justice is tyrannical.”

-         Blaise Pascal

Somehow, I doubt that Pascal had major league baseball umpires in mind when

he wrote that line. That’s a shame. Baseball umpires, somewhere along the line, have stepped across the line that separates impartial judges from arbitrary dictators who hold the entire game in thrall.

Umpiring has always been a source of high blood pressure for fans and players alike. That’s because it is based on judgment. At one time, that judgment was founded, in theory, on a fairly consistent set of rules. The strike zone was well defined and known to everyone with the slightest familiarity with the game. No longer. It now seems to be as fluid as a political promise.

One game, the zone will approximate the size and shape of the state of Idaho. The next game it will be more like Tennessee. This is unfair to everyone. The pitchers have to spend the first three innings of each game finding out where a particular umpire’s strike zone is. By the time they have found it, it is often too late. Same for the batters. They have no idea what they need to swing at until their last at-bat, if then. When you see the batters, pitchers, managers and announcers from both teams expressing astonishment at what is and is not a strike, there is something seriously wrong. It is time for Major League Baseball to exert some of its generally misused authority and insist the umpires adhere to some consistent standard. Even Idaho is OK as long as we know what to expect.

Now, umpiring excesses have gone beyond the strike zone. Now, they’re deciding games on judgment calls that have no basis in reality.

Case in point: a recent game between the Seattle Mariners and the Tampa Bay Devil Rays. The teams were tied 1-1 in the bottom of the 10^th inning. Tampa Bay, the home team, had men on first and third with one out. The batter hit a fly ball to shallow left, which the fielder caught.

The Mariner shortstop broke for third to backup any throw that might take place. Replays clearly showed that the runner at third saw the catch, because he didn’t tag up and leave the bag until the ball was caught. He knew that he couldn’t make it to home because the ball was not hit deeply enough. So, while he broke for home, he quickly returned to the bag.

At this point, the third base umpire took over. He ruled that the Mariner shortstop had obstructed the view of the runner and awarded the runner home base. The game was declared over. This would have been just another bad call if it had not decided the game.

Baseball researchers scrambled to find a precedent. There are none. Had a Mariner player actually interfered with the runner, that would have been a justification. The runner was not even touched. Again, the runner clearly saw the catch made, so there was no interference with his vision, either deliberately or accidentally.

So why was this call made? We’ll probably never know. Umpires don’t have to justify their often mystifying decisions. Obviously, there was a big brouhaha over the call. Seattle manager Bob Melvin, a rather placid type, was so outraged that he continued his protest as the lineups were exchanged the next day and was ejected before the game even started.

Frankly, even if the call was reversed, it wouldn’t make any difference to the Mariners dismal season. The Mariners can lose on their own without any help from the umpires. The fact that the decision was allowed to stand, however, does not bode well for our national pastime. Judgment calls cannot be appealed.

Since television replays unequivocally showed that the call was totally false, action needs to be taken. Umpires are being allowed far too much latitude in controlling the game. The umpire who made this outrageous call should immediately be demoted to the farthest reaches of the minor leagues where he can relearn the rules. The rest of the umpiring crew should be severely reprimanded for not reversing his call.

It’s a sad day for the players and fans alike when games are decided by the judicial branch. Raise hell, baseball fans. It’s time to put the tyrants in their place.

12:13:52 AM    comment []

Thursday, August 05, 2004

Into the belly of the beast

In my capacity as editor of a business magazine, I often find myself in surroundings that make me rather uncomfortable. Such was the case today when I covered the inauguration of the new clean fuel unit at the BP Cherry Point Refinery.

Don't get me wrong. I am all in favor of clean fuel. BP, in fact, is far more progressive than most refiners. They not only built a facility to meet EPA standards, they exceeded those standards far in advance of the deadline.

I am no fan of the "awl bidness," but BP is at least making a sincere effort to do the right thing. Their local refinery, while no thing of beauty, has set worldwide standards for cleaning up its act. They have reduced emissions by 30 percent over the last five years. The new clean fuel unit has not just reduced sulfur content far below EPA standards for 2007, they have come close to eliminating it entirely. To put it into more understandable terms, the new clean fuels will equal a reduction of 40,000 cars per day in the I-5 corridor here in Washington.

It would, of course, be better if we could actually reduce the traffic by 40,000 cars a day, but that's hardly realistic given our region's reluctance to accept mass transit. That aside, BP celebrated its new clean fuel facility with suitable pomp and circumstance today. They modestly accepted an award from the Puget Sound Clean Air Agency for their efforts. That agency has never given an award to a refinery before.

During the year long construction process, BP added to its admirable record of over two million hours without a recordable accident. In a business as hazardous as refining oil, that is rather remarkable. They have scored a few awards from OSHA for that accomplishment.

BP Cherry Point Refinery is also an admirable corporate citizen. There is hardly any nonprofit agency in this area that has not benefitted from their largesse. Every event I go to involving an arts organization or a social service agency, BP's logo is prominently displayed as having contributed rather generously.

Now, those of you who follow this blog know that I am no fan of corporate America. I tend to view multinationals with a very jaundiced eye. Given the Enrons and Halliburtons of this world, I can perhaps be forgiven for being very skeptical of BP's motives. One thing that I have learned from being the editor of the business magazine is that business is not intrinsically evil.

That may not come as a revelation to most of you, but it does to this aging pinko bleeding heart liberal. I used to see business as the enemy, back in my younger days. Thank God for the wisdom to be able to see shades of gray. I now see business, at least small business, as the engine that drives the economy. And I have come to learn that mega corporations are not necessarily incarnations of evil.

But I digress. Thank St. Hunter for that. The BP Cherry Point Refinery is a blight on an otherwise beautiful landscape. So give up your car. If another couple of million people follow your example, we can eliminate these horrors. BP may actually be working toward that end. Their latest marketing scheme casts them as "Beyond Petroleum."

Again, they are progressive enough to realize that the oil is running out and are aggresively pursuing alternative fuels, including solar and hydrogen. They may be a corporate megalith, but they're not stupid.

Finding myself in the heart of an oil refinery was not a spiritual experience. This thing is the definition of ugly. But any true artist will find beauty even in a setting reminiscent of "Modern Times" crossbred with "Brazil."

LoserLand refused to accept a photo of the refinery as a whole, no matter how much I reduced it. That's a shame. My photo was very moody and captured the alien landscape of the place very effectively. Please express your outrage to this user unfriendly blogosphere.

Meantime, I took some photos of the complex plumbing at the refinery and played with them in Photo-Paint. You judge. Is there beauty in a refinery?

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