Two hours to Ramadan

“Welcome to the parallel universe” they told me as I took the ship into Bayonne, New Jersey.
What was once a bustling terminal in New York Harbor for Uncle Sam’s cargo was now a small suburban outfit. Most everything went in and out of Norfolk, Virginia; jet fuel and Navy beans. In Nee Jersey, you did things differently. “Going downtown” meant a fast ferry ride to Manhattan, instead of a 15 minute drive south on Hampton Boulevard. Your Uber driver knows where “Naval Station Norfolk” is, but would be hard-pressed to find the government pier in New Jersey.

Such is the feeling that I approach my first Ramadan in the Middle East. We’ve made some accommodations to cultural necessities: When preparing lunch, we settled for chicken, since there were both Hindus and Muslims working on the team (no beef, no pork). Muslims traditionally abstain from food,beverage, and water during Ramadan’s sunlight hours. The temperature is 100 degrees, Fahrenheit. Abstaining from water flies in the face of every health lesson in hydration. Then I thought about it more:  before the days of desalination, water was a rare commodity in the Gulf States. Abstaining from water trains they body to do with less, a survival skill in harsh climates. I’m hesitant about it occurring in my workplace, though. Will see how it goes.

Merry Christmas!

Christmas season started for me on December 21^st, almost a month after Black Friday and weeks after many already maxed out their credit cards. I went to a big box store. It was late and I already had a long day that started before 4am. The ship and I had been at sea, almost continuously, for a month, and  we quietly pulled into port.   As I made my last Christmas purchases- mostly premeditated with a few impulse decisions, I was bumped into by other weary shoppers hustling like Olympic sprinters. 

They used to say that once the crowd talks about the stock market, it’s time to sell. But the post-election stock market surge kept good times rolling. So much so that one guy told me that his stock market gains were larger than his paycheck. I congratulated him on behalf of Uncle Sam, who appreciates the hard work of passive income by giving a lower tax rate. 

Conspicuous consumption is back, with new products to “solve” the problems of the rich and “mass affluent”. You can see a stream of “Happy Holiday” ads that make you forget the reasons for the season (the Temple in Jerusalem for Jews or Christ’s Birth for Christians), not to mention songs about bigger and better presents. 

The millennials have more enlightened  spending habits; they prefer to spend on priceless and timeless experiences. Plane tickets to visit faraway family?  It’s important. I whipped out a credit card, rented a car, loaded it with my Christmas trinkets, and drove home.  I spent two wonderful days with my family; now it was time to plan for an unforgettable New Year’s. Should I bring the nice secondhand Italian suit; or is that overkill for Norfolk, I thought? As I was driving back to work for a shift on Christmas Day, I heard a song that I haven’t heard before. Amazing, since it played the year I was born. The song was called “The Gift”, by Garth Brooks, and its protagonist is a poor orphan girl named Maria:

“There were diamonds and incense and perfumes in packages fit for a king;

but for one ragged bird in a small cage Maria had nothing to bring...

Just then the midnight bells rang out and the little bird started to sing
A song that no words could recapture, whose beauty was fit for a king”.

Merry, Joyous, Christmas to all.

Finished With Engines (Part II of II)

     Once you get through the first license test, you know what to expect. With anxieties lowered, all you need to focus on in the material. And if you do not feel confident in the performance of your test, never look back once the test is over. I invoked this principle several times when classmates asked me about specific questions on exams that were already done. Triple-check your work: Transpositions of answers can sink an otherwise stellar performance. If you think you failed, count the number of questions you have no idea about (100% wrong), then add those questions you guessed between two choices (66% wrong), and figure out how many you are uncertain about (33% wrong). Add these up, with the proper proportions. When the final results came out, I was surprised by how accurate my metric served me. Call it Sawatzki’s Rule. 

     Monday was dedicated to Diesel engines, the primary mode of propulsion of merchant ships. The easiest subject was Safety, which I studied for. This was advantageous, as I finished first and had plenty of time to study for the next test, Generals. The toughest exam was Generals, and Electrical was an unexpected blessing. The final two exams were on Steam propulsion, which is present on older vessels, as well as in niche applications such as liquid gas carriers and nuclear ships. The class expected to do well, as much of our classroom instruction focused on elements of steam systems, from turbine design to thermodynamics.  

     On the final test, I did a full triple-check. This was the end, and there was no need to rush. Most engineering midshipmen pass all tests on the first round, but sometimes it is quite arbitrary who fails a single test. I bided my time by packing my belongings to take home. Lunch was catered from Chipotle, which was enjoyed by all. We were told to report to Wiley Hall at 2pm for the results to be posted, but there was a bit of a delay. During the meanwhile, classmates talked with nervous anticipation, never making plans for next week (so as to avoid a ‘jinx’). Results were posted just a few minutes before 4pm. 85% passed all seven tests the first time, and another 10% had one test to remediate in the next week. My parents had traveled from DC for the bell-ringing ceremony, so the stakes were raised on me passing the first time. Which I did: a low of 79 on Generals, and a high of 100 on Safety. 

     My mood was a bit subdued, in solidarity with those who were retaking their tests on the following Wednesday. But for those who were truly uncertain about their results, a passing result was cause for immense celebration. To me, ringing the bell was an effort in maintaining old traditions, tethered by my parents’ wish of a solemn event, despite efforts of the Academy’s administration to formalize, and tame, the occasion.

  

     After the bell was rung, and the tassel removed for the sake of peace-and-quiet, the local park was filled with gleeful seniors who earned their stripe. After sunset, the convoy filled the local firemens’ outfit. I had a fine dinner with my family in Roslyn, but upon the advice of my company officer, a 1977 graduate, I made sure to spend time afterwards with my Kings Point family of classmates. With the significant number of seniors beginning their travel on the next day, the celebrations ended fairly early, to the pleasure of the “townies” in Great Neck.  

Party Crashers, Washington Style

What a global warming's worth of hot air.

As a public house, the President, the cabinet, the secret service and the other elected officials have only so much control in restricting access. Unlike your private home, the White House is technically open to the public.

But there are a lot of bad people out there. Ever present was the barrel-rod fence on all four sides, which you aren't supposed to grab (the police tell kids that the fence is electric). There was always a security tent with magnetometers, and eventually Penn. Ave was closed to general auto traffic.

For the past few years, Congress has sided with Mr. Bush in limiting access by the public (something that seems to be constitutional). But back in the '90's, you didn't need to give a social security number for visiting, nor schedule well in advance. Indeed, there were free range tours.

Naturally, I was never on a guest list when I visited. Of course it's rude to crash a high-power party, but criminal investigations for harmless celebrities? Sounds like a show trial.

Halfway There

Yesterday...that was a top-ten of this year post. But let me tell you- It is my half-birthday. I am 151/2. I do not know what this means for me, but in some places, it does have some significance (Virginia is an example- minimum age for LP). Time has been passing so slowly that I already feel 16. Just imagine if this aging continues, I'll be 80 before I know it. And anyway, if we make too much of a deal of this, we could be be having our monthly parties!

Post 200, Again

A finish to a year at high school. In retrospect, it doesn't feel anything like the first day of Easter vacation, I think because we were eased in, not having a full, real day of school since last Thursday. So the last exam but Sean still has my calculator-not his fault, though. Maybe I'll see him at some graduation event this weekend. I'm supposed to be receiving a job assignment by Tuesday, from the DC government. If it's good (i.e. I hardly do anything and get paid for sitting in their crib rather than mine), I'll take it. Otherwise, I might have better things to do. But I still have orchestra tomorrow. (Sigh) Life goes on, but there's always Monday. Anyway,I wish I already had my summer homework, so I could finish early, but I guess I have days to do nothing, yet I do not want to waste them. Little Brother will be at Camp Incarnation, CT for the next week, then in England; I'll be home without him, and therefore I have computer rights! Just as long as the internet doesn't fail like it did it this afternoon; it was a stressful event.
Thank you, blog readers, for giving me so much to type about. "Au revoir, we'll see you again"
(from Nixon, 1974)

April 17th Revelations

Where did I leave off?

The stadium was relatively new. The stadium, at least the first tier, was very open-aired. Under the shade of the second tier, as well as the surrounding concrete that was still cold from the night before. It was not soon that I realized that my ticket was one of a few that did not give a (Section 138, Row S, Seat 2) view of the altar, obstructed by a speaker tower. I suppose God wanted it that way, and for a legitimate reason. Of course, no one would want to trade their lifetime experience with me, especially when I am supposed to be around for an excess of 50 years. 9:30am, the Pope took a home-run ride in the popemobile, a modified Mercedes-Benz. He nearly missed us by waving to the mass of priests on the field, but he gave us a good wave before it was too late. 10:00am, the mass started. I identified the Pope only by his unique accent, which I heard much on TV the day before.

Like my trip to England (It did not feel much different than Canada), it was unbelievable. Although I could not see Him, it was something very special, and the shock will probably come sometime. He spoke Spanish well, as I was informed by someone who saw the Pontiff's mouth move to the words. Communion was served in our section, not focused at a central point, a thing that I slightly disagree with, regarding to the symbolism of it. Denyce Graves and Placido Domingo sung and brought people to tears. The mass sometimes turned into a rallying cry, with phrases including, Viva la Popa, We love you Benedict!, and, otherwise much cheering and clapping and flag-waving. The service ended precisely at Noon, and a commentator soon commented. I thought; "Why?". Exiting the stadium-turned-church, it was as if the whole
world turned upside down. Anti-Catholics protested the church's doctrine, and Evangelists tried to convert with poorly written novels. By the grace of God, no one was hurt.

It was HOT outside, and had been for a while. Staffers rushed water to the priestly people in the field. I did not know why until we got out. I stripped off my jacket, and my sweater, loosened my tie, and still be hot. Note- I'm not whining below.

Typical incompetent DDOT cops held our lunchtime up, while an amazing stream of over 20 buses passed to ferry riders to the RFK lot. The only dining in the area, Five Guys and Subway and Starbucks, as comic relief, were crowded. We did eat, but they (at Subway) could have been more prepared, and anyway, mis-dressed sandwiches, even to somebody who was allergic to cheese. Luckily, it was not put through the toaster-oven. Cost $7.03, had enough sense to lax the 3 cents, came with medium soda and foot-long sub. Did they gouge the price?

And people did ride the N22 from the mass.

We did not get back to school until 3:10pm. I would have gone to class for 10 minutes if it was important material, but it was not. After school, I finished my stage for the drug webpage, and had to get home to cram for Friday's Test-n-Quiz session.

Inspired

I had been planning to write an article for the Press, but I just did not collect enough of my own feelings to write a full story. I then thought of asking the more devout people what the mass meant to them. The next day, I did find out, and it meant a lot. A powerful point was the pope in the bleeing of the Eucharist, as well as after communion, when he did a rare standing ovation to Placido, and he kissed the Pontiff's ring. Unfortunately, I did not get to see it. I suppose they deserved a powerful experience, getting to see the aged Pontiff, at 81, still enthusiastically officiating the whole mass. After all, a lot of them did take their initiative to be confirmed last year or the year before. I was confirmed in a High Episcopal church last year in New York (St. Thomas 5th Avenue is traditional.) There was nothing that could have deterred-like Mr. Schmidt's temporary shake-off of Model UN by introducing occasional after-school meets- the process. Confirmation class was required, and I don't think I ever gave a formalized consent to have my name sent to the Bishop. I should try to be more faithful. After all, all I do is attend church on Sundays more often than not, and lead Sunday School with material I learned the previous week in Religion class. Maybe the sprit just moved me then. Let's see.

And as I say, Happy Birthday to Me.

April 17, 2008

Getting up at 5:00 am is something that makes me tired later in the day. I left home at 5:45am to make it to school by 7:00am. Surprisingly, by the time I boarded the E2 at Fort Totten, it was already bright out, but still a bit chilly. The 36 of us and 4 chaperons boarded a 3-bus tandem to the Green line, boarding the train at about 7:20. The train was already standing room only- I do remember also that the aisle was already congested. It was tolerable until Chinatown, where Red Line passengers met the train. There was a delay entering into L'Enfant Plaza, where the Orange/Blue cross. It so happened that the train ahead of ours was overburdened and broke down, as I later saw on TV. Waterfront, Navy Yard. The platform looked like Tokyo's subway it was so crowded. The transit police had it set up so that 1/2 street SE was a walkway to the stadium's security checkpoint. Seated by 8:30am. Unfortunately, I was unable to see the altar from my seat. However, I was able to see the pope in a drive-around in the popemobile, with window open. I was within 50 feet diagonal of Him.

I have to stop here for tonight. I have a T+Q in Math and Latin tomorrow.
And it is my birthday.

Birthdays, etc.

Two days, One hour, 45 minutes. That's when I become 15 by calendar years. However...I am 15 now in biological age. Remember, I lived through 4 leap years ('96, '00, '04, '08) , each with an extra day. That means I turned biologically 15 on Sunday. Nevertheless, it's nice to always celebrate a birthday on the same day.

Tomorrow I will have a friend's birthday every day until the 22nd/23rd
The pope will be 81 tomorrow, and I should be able to see him on Thursday.

I actually do not have any tests to do until Friday.

I have a history essay due tomorrow. I have most of it done, but I have to piece the rest together.

Post 50

Hurray. It's my 50th blog post, half of which came in the past two months, when I made an attempt at 5 posts a week. Now we had our ("50"/10)th exam today, and one exam only, which let us out at 10am. Since the shuttle wouldn't come for another half hour, some of us had a nice walk through the community on Michigan avenue to Brookland Metro. Somewhat quicker than taking 12th street.

Nevertheless, there are still two exams left and I know the readers want these exams to be over as well! Maybe the 100th post could be on Feb. 29, 2008? That's a special day.

Jack Evans sent us a nice "Happy Holiday" card on glossy paper in full color; the type you receive from relatives. Paid for by Evans 2008, Treasurer, Dennis Black. Evans has been the area councilman longer than I've been alive and he's probably going to be elected again and again.