Wednesday, August 31, 2005

Hurricane Katrina, another thought

I'm safely cocooned a thousand miles north of New Orleans, watching with the rest of the nation as the horror and despair there unfold in the phosphor glow of my television set.

In all the coverage, there is one important thing I have yet to hear reported:

WHERE THE FUCK IS THE HELP? I'm not talking about FEMA or the Red Cross, or the local authorities. They're scrambling to act against a near overwhelming national disaster. Where the fuck is the rest of the world? With as much criticism as the USA received for our slow response and paltry initial dollar-figure offer of aid in the hours after the devastation of the December 26, 2004, tsunami in south Asia was revealed, where are the offers from the rest of the world to help the United States disaster relief organizations help the people of the Gulf coast? The USA upped its tsunami-aid offer from a few million to nearly a half-billion dollars in a matter of days. I have yet to hear of ANY offer from ANY country for ANY type of aid.

You'd think that some nation with a bone to pick would have come up with some offer significant in comparison to its size or economic health, if only to show us up for our "stinginess."

In years past, we've sent money and provisions to our ENEMIES when members of their citizenry were befallen with disaster. Where are our friends?


dassall

Hurricane Katrina

I'm not going to try to pontificate on the devastation of the hurricane or the despair it leaves behind. There are too many others with better vocabulary and journalistic skills than I to compete with.

What I wish to address is the news coverage of this storm and others. Whose idea was it to send people INTO these storms for the sole purpose of reporting them? In the specific case of Katrina, as one flipped from channel to channel, broadcast and cable, there were untold numbers of TV news people standing waist deep in churning waters, wrapped in rain gear, backs to the wind and shouting into their microphones, trying to keep their eyes on rain-spattered camera lenses and telling us how bad the weather was! HELLO! It's a freakin' HURRICANE! Do these people have rights? Do their bosses realize that they're sending their people into serious danger? Do they receive hazardous duty pay?

It's not war. War correspondents jump into the fray at risk of their lives for more than just bringing us the adrenaline rush of combat voyeurism. There's a human story to be revealed in showing men and women, sometimes very young men and women, forced into a situation in which they never expected to find themselves. Sometimes they perform valiantly, and some perform cowardly. Some are compassionate or timid. Some are emotionless and aggressive. Almost all of them have someone back home whom they miss and who misses them terribly. But every one of them has a story. And almost every story can break our hearts.

And in the aftermath of a storm as terrible as Katrina, there are thousands of stories which can touch -- and break -- our hearts. For the story is not the in storm. The story is in the people who lived - and died - through the storm. The story is in the efforts of the cities and their people to get through the aftermath and to rebuild their cities and rebuild their lives. That's where the reporters and cameramen can work true magic.

But DURING the storm? It serves no purpose. The reporter appears on camera, shouting into his microphone to be heard over the roar of the wind and rain, and might as well say, "Yes, Bent Hangnail here on scene as Hurricane Katrina, now a category 4 storm, blows ashore with all her force. Upon the order of city officials to evacuate, everyone has wisely left this very dangerous, very treacherous city...except us." How stupid is that? Why do it? You can't see anything: the camera lens is most likely crapped up with water and dirt; and if the camera man has the time to wipe the lens clean, you still can't see anything because, with the wind and water and debris in the air, visibility is about 50 yards at best, and if it's night time, you might see a traffic signal buffetted around in the distance, but that's about it.

The grand effect of sending those poor, young people into the storm - and I would wager that those people are the most junior on the staffs of their respective stations - is the viewer looking at the TV screen, pointing at it, and saying, "Look at that moron! What an idiot! Get out of there, stupid!"


dassall

Sunday, August 14, 2005

We're Wireless

Cool!

The wife and I just upgraded everything. Two new iMacs G5 and an iBook G4, both with wireless, plus made the old PowerBook G4, the old iMac G4 and her G4 tower wireless. We're still a little glitchy, but I'm sure we're the problem, not the gear! There are 3 of us in the house, and we have 7 functional Macs, though this one, the G3 is soon to get the boot!

Cool!
Cool!
Cool!


dassall

Monday, August 08, 2005

Felt Up On a Plane!

So I'm on a short flight to Cedar Rapids, Iowa. It's a small, 70 passenger jet. I'm in the exit row, in the aisle seat across the aisle from my co-worker. Next to me, by the window, is a young, twenty-something man. About 20 minutes into the flight I turn to ask my co-worker a question, and I barely get two words out when, HELLO! There's a hand in my lap that's not mine!! I turn to look at the guy next to me and he's sound asleep. Apparently he had his hand on the arm rest, and then he flinched, sending his arm off the arm rest and onto my leg. When it happened I must have had a classic look on my face because my co-worker, who saw me remove the dude's hand from my lap, then burst into uncontrollable laughter. Once I got rid of the creeps and the absurdity of the moment hit me, I also lost it, and I laughed nonstop for about 5 minutes, tears running down my face.

Why doesn't that ever happen when there's a young, twenty-something woman next to me?!

dassall

Sunday, August 07, 2005

Murder By Travel

I don't know what I've done to deserve it, and I'm not even certain it's true, but I think my employer is trying to kill me.

See, my job requires that I travel. It's video production work, so I have to carry a lot of gear around with me. Granted, it's not as much stuff as that dude from CBS's "48 Hours" that I saw carrying, but that's a different animal. Mine are still large cases, still generally over the airlines' allowable weight max, and still need to be lugged from home to car to airport to car to location to hotel room to car to airport to home to office blah blah blah.

But lately the travel has been ridiculous. Take June, for instance. June started on May 30 with a flight to Palm Beach, Florida for a convention that lasted until June 4, and I flew home on the 5th. I was back in Chicago for five full days, and then I was back in the air on my way to Dublin, Ireland. IRELAND! For TWO WEEKS!! Okay, one week was for work, and the other was actually my vacation, with a niece and nephew of mine, each there as my graduation gift to them (WOO HOO! Frequent flyer miles!). I was in Chicago for a full five days, making that a grand total of ten days that I was home in the month of June. And then it was JULY!

On the 5th I was on the 6:50am flight back to Florida, this time Daytona, with a drive back to Palm Beach (see earlier post "World's Best Driver") for a total of four days. in Chicago for only ten days, I was then off to Puerto Rico on the 19th for a ten day stretch of three conferences (see "A Week In Puerto Rico (So Far...). I arrived home on the 29th, but I had to turn around for a 6:00am flight to San Diego the next day, Saturday July 30th, for three nights, and suddenly, with only 14 days in Chicago in July, it was AUGUST!

On the 2nd we drove to Los Angeles (see "A Truly Beautiful Person") where we worked in the evening, worked into the afternoon on the Wednesday the 3rd, and then hopped on a plane back home. I was home for two nights, and then had a 6:30am Friday flight to Denver, where we worked for about six hours, and then managed to catch stand-by seats two hours earlier than our scheduled flight to get home by 11:30pm.

I have this weekend...most of it, anyway... to rest up, for tonight at 10:00 I fly to Cedar Rapids, Iowa where we work tomorrow morning, then we drive to Des Moines to work in the afternoon, and THEN we catch a flight through Chicago to Philadelphia, where we'll shoot on Tuesday. On Wednesday we have to fly BACK through Chicago, BACK to Cedar Rapids because some schlub had a procedure, so he can't be taped on Monday, and then we fly home in the early afternoon. Thursday afternoon we fly out again, this time to Atlanta for a Friday shoot in Bumphuck, Georgia, and a Saturday shoot in Asshump, Alabama (cue "Dueling Banjos" theme here). We fly back Sunday morning, but then we have to drive Monday morning two hours to Bloomington, Illinois, and then back in the afternoon. We may or may not have Tuesday at home, depending on whether or not something gets scheduled for that day, and then we have a one-day shoot in Omaha, Nebraska! THEN we get a whole three days back in Chicago before we have to go to Greenbrier, West Virginia, for 6 days for yet another convention. This will make a grand total of thirteen days home in August, IF other stuff isn't scheduled.

I swear to cod they're trying to kill me. And if not, please...

SOMEBODY SHOOT ME!

dassall

Thursday, August 04, 2005

A Truly Beautiful Person

In my job I meet a wide variety of people, usually in the insurance and financial services industry. And, due to the nature of my business, I usually meet the best examples of people in the industry. Occasionally I get to meet a client of one of these top examples, and if they're served by the best, then they're usually quite happy people.

Recently I met one of these happy customers in Los Angeles. Once a year our client does a series of videos about people who have benefitted from their purchase of different types of insurance when their lives took an unexpected turn, and the company I work for produces the videos. The happy customer of which I speak is in his 50s, and if ever there was a man emotionally and mentally prepared to have a disaster befall him, this was the man. Devout in his faith (not something I particularly care about, but it's such a part of his life it cannot go unmentioned), and of unflappable spirit, he has lived his whole life choosing to smile and greet everyone he meets warmly and with joy. He had just returned from a visit to Israel in 2004 when one day he experienced an uncharacteristic weakness in his arms and legs. He lay down to rest, took a brief nap, and when he made to get up, his legs collapsed beneath him. He could not get up or move without help. By nightfall he was paralyzed from the neck down. In the ensuing days his doctors had diagnosed him with Guillain-Barre Syndrome.

I'm not versed in medical lingo. I know only from meeting him that Guillain-Barre Syndrome is temporary -- he can recover -- however it can leave one devastated. I'm not here to extoll the virtues of insurance, but I'm sure it is the main reason he can smile today, for his family has not experienced a financial hardship, despite astronomical medical expenses.

We spent a day with this man, in his home, at aqua-therapy, at physical therapy. He has regained movement and limited function of his arms and hands, and some movement of his legs. He works hard to get better, and there is incremental improvement every day. His mind is sharp, his wit is quick, and his condition is the last thing on his mind, other than that it's the reason he must fill his days with visits to the hospital therapy room and the local pool. He engages everyone intellectually, enjoys laughter -- generating and receiving -- and will talk non-stop if you let him.

I don't really know what I logged on here to say, except that in the presence of this man I was touched. Touched by his undeniable spirit, his unstoppable will, his unswerving determination to get back on his feet, and by his infectious, never-ending smile. The world needs more people like him.

Here's to you, Mr. Shore. May you be back on your feet soon.