SEAGULLS OF MYRTLE BEACH (Poem)

The gulls - mostly white with gray markings
But some speckled with brown – stood in the shallow surf
Patiently looking landward. For what?
I walked along the flat, damp sand of the beach
The late February wind behind my back,
A hamburger bun in my left hand.
Idly I ripped off a small morsel of the bread
And tossed it towards one of the gulls.
It spread its wings and quickly leapt towards the crumb.
But it wasn't quick enough. The wind blew the bread
To the right of the gull, and another got to it first.

A remarkable transformation took place along the beach,
As gull after gull took to the air.
They began to circle me in smooth flight as if it was windless,
Some shrieking with anticipation.
I threw a piece of bread into the air as high as I could.
The wind carried it ahead of me so that I could see the gulls
Adjust their maneuvers and cleanly swoop towards the scrap.
The bread never came close to touching the ground.
Slowly I began to toss bits of bread as high as I could,
And the gulls became frantic in their quest for food.
They grew more and more bold, getting closer, closer,
Even bumping each other in their battle for something to eat.
A wing caressed my right arm as it moved.
Another batted my head, messing my hair.
Drool hit my hand, and I puzzled over gulls salivating.

A terrible screech came from my left.
A gull hovered like some gigantic hummingbird,
Its beak open, a look of pain upon its face.
The beak made short movements toward the remains of the bun,
But the wings kept it much too far away for any success.
It screeched again, and I wondered when any of the birds
Had last eaten! I tossed a bit of bread towards the open beak.
Wind again blew it off line, but it landed cleanly in the mouth,
The gull making a movement faster than the eye could detect.
Another screech, another piece of bread in the beak,
Whereupon with a quick change in the pitch of the wings
The bird gracefully moved away, banking to the left.
Was its hunger sated or did it realize
It had gotten more than its fair share?

Two more bits of bread into the air.
Surprisingly one bounced off a beak and fell to the ground.
A hoard of gulls dove for it, fighting off each other.
The bread was now all gone, but the gulls still circled,
Some only inches from my face so that I could feel the
Wind from their flapping wings.
So hungry were they that I began to be frightened.
Would they begin to peck at my eyes?
In desperation to tell them there was no more food,
I held the palms of my hands upward and shrugged my shoulders.
They seemed to understand and slowly returned to their stations,
Their backs again towards the sea.
All became quiet except for the low g-r-o-w-l
Of the Atlantic winter surf.

Written: March 7, 1986

VIETNAM: WIN OR LOSE?

The usual consensus is that we lost in Vietnam, but, if you consider the avowed reason we went into the war, it looks like we may have lost the battle but won the war. We were told that the reason we had to go to war in Vietnam was the Domino Effect, .i.e. If south Vietnam fell to Communism, Laos and Cambodia would soon follow, then Thailand, and finally the Big Kahuna - Indonesia, one of the world's most populous nations. Well, south Vietnam did fall, but they seem to be Communism lite. Laos is Communist, but they are one of the poorest, if not the poorest, countries in the world and certainly are no threat to us. Though things looked bad for Cambodia for some years, they now seem to have righted themselves. Their biggest money maker is tourism (Incidentally, Laos is trying to increase their tourism as well.). Thailand has flirted with Democracy, though it is currently under military rule, but is not Communist. Indonesia is a Democracy. Some Indonesians even say they are a better Democracy than the U.S.

Vietnam is an increasingly important trading power, and we have had an ambassador there since 1995 (currently Michael W. Michalak). President George W. Bush (Bush-43), visited Vietnam twice and tried to sign a trade agreement with them, but the Senate wouldn't approve it. But if you believe the Domino Effect was the real fear that drove to war in Vietnam, it surely looks like we won. The important point is that Vietnam is well accepted by the U.S. government and has been for some years.

YOU ARE SO LUCKY (Biographical)

In 1965, we arrived in Tokyo, Japan, in the afternoon on Japan Airlines from Hawaii. We were a couple of geochemists (plus my wife) involved in the U.S.-Japan Scientific Cooperation Program. We were to be accompanied by some Japanese scientists to sample the volcanic rocks of all the active Japanese volcanoes but two under the tutelage of the legendary Professor Hitashi Kuno of the University of Tokyo. In Tokyo, we stayed at the Hilltop Hotel, a steel frame and brick structure which was indeed on the top of a hill.

That evening, we were taken to the Ginza to a restaurant for a sukiyaki dinner with Professor Myaki, whom I had briefly met when I was a student at the California Institute of Technology. But he also was the Professor of my partner, Dr. Mitsunobu Tatsumoto, when he was a graduate student at the Tokyo University of Education. Professor Myaki was famous for leading a small group that analyzed the radioactive fallout from a U.S. atom bomb on the Japanese fishing vessel, the Lucky Dragon. In doing so, they found that the bomb had been of what was then a new type, a fusion and not a fission bomb - a hydrogen bomb. This so surprised the U.S. government, that they were sure that some spy had leaked the information. But they hadn’t accounted for the cleverness of the Japanese.

After the wonderful dinner, we left the restaurant and found there was a large parade on the Ginza, a very wide boulevard. Prof. Myaki said, "Ah, you are so lucky. We don’t have many demonstrations anymore." Then I noticed that as the groups of young people marched in orderly groups, many across, they would yell something about "‘Melicans" in unison. So I said to Prof. Myaki, "It sounds like they are saying, Yankee go home." He said, "Oh, no, but you are so lucky to see a demonstration." After appealing to some other Japanese in our party for a translation, I was finally told that the demonstration was an objection to the South Korean’s claim that the Japanese owed them reparations because of World War II. The Japanese felt that they had built a lot of factories in Korea so no more reparations were owed. The Koreans had countered that these factories were mainly in north Korea and didn’t count. Ah so, but I then asked why I kept hearing something about "‘Melicans this and ‘Melicans that?" "Oh," was the reply, "That is because you are siding with the Koreans." "Oh." I replied, "so it is Yankee go home." \

I began to look around and saw a huge crowd of people lining the Ginza with us being the only Caucasian faces I could see. This observation left me more than a little nervous, even though I did note about a dozen riot police nearby. Then there was a break in the demonstration and someone said, "Let’s go to the other side." I looked over to the other side and saw maybe twice as many riot police there so I was in total agreement. Once we were on the other side, someone said to me, "The demonstrators are the Zenga Kurin, a group of radical students, and, if you think the police are sympathetic with them, you are mistaken as these police have already put in a full day’s work. Soon the student’s will begin to snake around. Then the riot police will pull down their plastic shields over their faces and go out and beat the students with their night clubs. You are so lucky to see this." I replied that this was our first night in Tokyo, and we were so tired from our trip. We really would like to return to our hotel. So we were taken back. But it turned out that the students didn’t snake that night.

The first morning we were in Tokyo, there was an earthquake. The motion was lateral and not up and down so we were not over the epicenter; however, we were on the top, 5th floor, of the steel frame hotel so it was like being on the end of a seismograph needle and our room swayed back and forth alarmingly. My wife said, "Should we run down the stairs?" I yelled, "I couldn’t even make it to the door." as I held onto the bed. I figured that the hotel had survived many such earthquakes and that we would be all right. Though my emotional self wasn’t convinced of this rational reasoning during the event, my supposition proved to be correct. The earthquake seemed to last forever, but lasted for maybe 15 or 20 seconds at most. Soon after it was over, the telephone rang. One of my Japanese acquaintances was on the phone and asked, "How did you like your welcome to Tokyo earthquake? You are so lucky."

The following morning, there was a newscast of a typhoon coming. Shortly after that, the phone rang and another Japanese acquaintance said, "Ah, you are so lucky. You will experience a typhoon." Well, we were "unlucky" in this instance and the typhoon didn’t hit Tokyo or, at least, not where we were.

So I wrote to my mother, telling her of these events and saying, "The Japanese have such a wonderful attitude. You are so lucky to experience all of life’s disasters."

VIETNAM AS A POLITICAL ISSUE

During my paid career, I had little time for movies, maybe saw one every other year. Since I have retired, I have been catching up during the last four years. I saw Platoon and Apocalypse a few years ago. Awhile back I got around to seeing Deer Hunter. It occurred to me while watching this movie that Vietnam as a political issue was over. Oh, I'm sure there are those around my age who will carry the hurt of Vietnam the rest of their lives. To them it will be an issue, but to the bulk of the voters, it is no longer one.

During the 2008 election, a lot of effort was made to try to tie Barack Obama to Bill Ayers, a founder of the Weather Underground back in the 1960s, which could be labeled a terrorist organization. It was true that they did know of each other and served on a panel together, but, to say that Barack Obama knew Bill Ayers (who after all is a professor of education now at the University of Illinois at Chicago) and thus was not qualified to be president was a stretch, and voters, in general, rejected it.

Actually, no Vietnam veteran has been able to become president. For reasons I don't understand Vietnam War veterans do not support Vietnam veterans for president. The time for John McCain was in the 2000 election, but perhaps as a result of some dirty campaigning, could not even get the Republican nomination for president. Though McCain was to be accepted as a Vietnam War hero in the 2008 election, that was not the case in the 2000 election. Thus the Vietnam War hero was a two time loser. Admittedly, I probably would not have voted for John McCain in 2000, but I wouldn't have felt badly had he won. Alas, in 2008, he was over the hill and the surprise was how close he came to being elected.

I had several experiences of being in Senate hearings and other meetings with Al Gore and found him most impressive. I thought he couldn't become president, however because of his academic way of speaking. I didn't bother me, but I thought it would with most voters. Actually, he came closer than I ever thought he would. Like McCain, Gore was a Vietnam veteran, but the knock was that he was not involved enough in the battle. As the son of a long-time representative and senator, you can imagine that Gore's commanding officer sweated bullets the whole time Gore was in Vietnam.

And then there was John Kerry who had two tours in Vietnam and was a decorated veteran. Of course, a group was formed that became known as the Swift Boaters (on whom Kerry had served) who did their best to destroy the meaning of military medals in the eyes of the public. I do understand that these veterans were hurt by Kerry eventually turning against the Vietnam war.

Briefly, Bob Kerrey, former senator from Nebraska, and an injured Vietnam War veteran made a run for the presidency, but it turned out he was unacceptable because, well, he was too involved in the Vietnam war.

I suppose it is still possible for a Vietnam veteran to be elected president, but, so far as I know, none of the leading Republican or Democratic hopefuls are. And past history shows that even if one of them were, Vietnam veterans probably would not support them. Perhaps the most attractive Republican candidate who is a veteran is Senator Lindsey Graham of South Carolina, but he is not a Vietnam War veteran, though he has served briefly in both Iraq and Afghanistan in non-combatant roles. One assumes at this time, that President Barack Obama, not a veteran, will run for reelection.

MY CAREER AS A PIANIST (Biographical)

My mother was a pianist and organist of local renown. Back in high school in Owatonna, Minnesota, she performed with a girl’s singing group called the Black Birds in addition to studying the piano. When she graduated from high school, she went to the Chicago School of Music for two years and stayed with a German family. After all, her name was Schoen and our nearby relatives had names like Otto Hartelt and Ed Mierke so it was to be expected, I guess. But she told an interesting story about how after a large dinner of sour braten and potatoes, the mother of the family she stayed with brought in a large platter of wieners for dessert. We thought that was very funny.

My mother aspired to be a concert pianist, but, after she heard Rachmaninoff play the piano, she decided she couldn’t compete and returned home to Owatonna. She became sufficiently admired for her proficiency on the piano and organ that some churches scheduled their services so she could perform there. My father’s family had a long relationship with our German relatives in Owatonna because a much older sister of his married Great Uncle Ed Mierke. Although I do not recall how my parents met, my father loved music as an observer and probably met my mother at a get together between the two families where my mother played the piano, perhaps more than once.

At the age of three, my mother discovered me at the piano trying to pick out a tune she had played earlier in the day. You can imagine my mother’s joy to discover that she had a budding Mozart on her hands. So the tedious lessons began. I could not read music nor play a piece upon hearing it without painfully picking it out on the keys, then playing it over and over memorizing it. Even then, there were often a lot of discordant notes or even forgetting how to continue playing a piece. Nonetheless, I was taken various places, even let out of school, to perform little recitals. Hearing me play at, say, the age of four or five or six was a bit like watching a dog walk on its hind legs. The dog doesn’t do it very well, but you are amazed that he does it at all. All my relatives were very supportive and complimented me and oh’ed and ah’ed no matter how poorly I played, which I had to do every time they visited. The peak of my performing career came in the first grade when I was let out of class to perform for the third grade. Now that was really something, playing for the big kids! I probably never reached such heights again.

My mother, who had given children’s piano lessons before she had children, began giving them again, including a few adults. Except for me, she was very successful at this and many of her students excelled in local and state piano contests. We had three pianos so, by the time they had played on these plus the ones in their home and at their church, they were not surprised at any piano in the contest. In the fourth grade, however, a pupil of my mother’s by the name of Joyce Rader (I’ll never forget her.) suddenly could play the piano better than me and not by just a little bit. Before the fourth grade was over, two or three other students surpassed me as well. There I was at the age of nine, looking for a new career. It was devastating.

I loved chemistry, and my mother encouraged that too and helped me perform little experiments she had learned in high school like generating oxygen. So since my performing years as a pianist were over, I decided to become a chemical engineer, not that I really knew what a chemical engineer did, but I liked three syllable words, four would have been even better. My mother, however, didn’t give up. I did not like to practice the piano or to take lessons. Certainly later I rebelled pretty strongly. My mother did everything in her power to keep me going on the piano. My mother had, well, let’s say an artistic temperament, so there was a lot of yelling. Yelling had an adverse affect on me because I was a timid child. Her students, however, tended to eat it up. Apparently they craved discipline that they didn’t find at home. A few would come for their piano lesson even when they were too ill to go to school. As my mother quickly developed a long list of students-in-waiting, there was a fear of being "fired." After a bad lesson, some students would even say something like, "You aren’t going to fire me, are you?"

I would have liked to have been fired, but my mother tried many ways to keep me interested in the piano. Since taking piano lessons from her were not working, she tried sending me to one of the piano schools. When that didn’t work, I was sent to a man to learn to play popular music. In fact when the first didn’t work out, she tried a second. Now, I want to emphasize that my mother was very proficient in music. It always amazed me that, while she would wait in a doctor’s office, she would memorize sheet music. When I told her of my surprise, she replied it was no different from learning a foreign language. One thing I did like to do was sit at the piano and compose little pieces of music. Naturally my mother encouraged this too and even sat with me and wrote down some of the pieces. In spite of her expertise, this was a slow, painful process, and I think there came a point where we both decided not to pursue recording my compositions any further. But I continued to compose until finally at the age of 15 or 16, I began to compose pieces I could not play, which killed it for me.

Northern Virginia In October

On a recent trip to northern Virginia, we saw these maple trees in the K-Mart shopping center in Herndon, VA.

IRAQ VS.. AFGHANISTAN

Although Iraq is far from "out-of-the-woods" regarding internal strife, everyone who visits there says things are much, much better than they were. The surge in Iraq actually had several things going for it besides an increase in U.S. troops (which did not exceed the earlier peak). There was a change in how the troops interacted with the Iraqis. But a major one was that various Sunni tribal chiefs had started to rebel against the insurgents even before the surge because the insurgents were not treating them well. Although there were those that loved Maliki and those who didn't, all accepted him as the legitimate leader. Maliki (a Shiite) gained credence with the Sunnis when he moved against the Shiite Mahdi Army.

In Afghanistan, the leader, Hamid Karzai, is not considered legitimate by many/most. Though there are faint glimmerings of some Pashtun leaders reacting to the Taliban (which are largely Pashtuns), it is not nearly as strong as the Sunni rebellion against the insurgents in Iraq. Afghan troop movements against the Taliban seem to be half-hearted at best. Plus Afghanistan has a problem not seen in Iraq. That is the poppy trade (i.e. drug trade), which accounts for the major part of the Afghan economy. Thus it is not clear that a surge of U.S. troops to Afghanistan will have a decisive effect.