It seems like during the summertime, I go for longer spells without writing a new entry.  There's more going on, and maybe I spend less time pondering the little things life has to offer.  And after reading this one, you may say that I should have waited even longer to start tapping on the keyboard again.  If you're easily offended, you might want to skip this entry.

A few weeks ago I heard on the news that the Roy Rogers Museum in Branson, Missouri, was forced to close, and all of their memorabilia was auctioned off.  This "memorabilia" included Roy's horse Trigger and dog Bullet.  Now, Trigger and Bullet died decades ago, but because of the miracles of science, they're still with us.  Both were stuffed -- or, professionally prepared by a taxidermist -- and have been on display at the museum for many years.  At auction, Trigger galloped past $266,000; and Bullet fetched $35,000.  (Sorry for the puns.)

Is it just me, or does it not seem strange to keep a dead animal out in the open?  This isn't an isolated case.  Some pet owners have Sparky stuffed so that he is curled up in the corner of the living room just like like they remember him back in the '80s.  Why do people do this?  Is it because they can't bear to part with their furry companions?  It's not something I would do, but at least this is a logical explanation for why others do it.

Let's carry this logic one step further.  If these people want to keep their beloved Sparky around even after death, would they make the same decision about a person, a loved one?  If they had a close family member who died, would they want to keep him/her around, too?  It's a creepy thought, but why is it more creepy to stuff a loved one than a dog?  Most people will have much stronger feelings for a spouse than they would for a pet, so shouldn't these people who just can't let go have an even greater desire to keep their spouse with them forever?  I wonder.  However, while I'm not completely certain about it, I imagine that one is legal while the other is very illegal.  Last month there was a story about a 91 year old lady who kept the embalmed remains of her husband and sister in a bedroom for at least several months because she wanted to be with them.  The last time I checked, the authorities didn't know whether to press charges or not.  "This is the first time we've dealt with a situation like this," one of the deputies said.  I would think so.

On the other hand, it's completely acceptable to display ancient Egyptian human mummies in museums.  Why is this OK?  Is it because lots of time has passed?  How much time is long enough?  We know that one year isn't long enough for the practice to be socially acceptable, but 2000 years is.  The tipping point must occur somewhere in between.

Society can be a funny thing.  It's not always easy to quantify when something is right and when something is wrong, but collectively a society just knows.  Even though there are always a few people at the extremes, we don't always need laws to tell us that something "just ain't right".  I really wish I could wrap this up with a moral to the story, but I don't have one.  It's interesting to step back and think with an open mind about why we do the things we do.  It's impossible to apply logic to it because there often isn't any.  Of course, if we were always logical, we would be Vulcans.  "Seems logical to me, Captain."

  

In this time of economic challenges, good jobs are often are to find.  Businesses and municipalities are cutting back in an attempt to save as much as they can.  On the news you'll hear about a school system cutting the number of teachers, a company laying off workers, or a newspaper reducing the number of reporters they hire.  These are tough decisions made after every other alternative has been exhausted.

Then why is it that the occupation of Courtroom Sketch Artist still exists?  With all the modern technology that surrounds us, is this really necessary?  OK, so maybe photographers with cameras aren't allowed in some courtrooms.  Fine.  The city could mount one camera in the corner of the room that would take a picture every so often.  Of course it would be angled away from the jury, and someone would have the authority to filter what is released to the media.

I wonder who pays for these sketch artists.  Maybe it's the newspapers -- but they don't have any money.  Maybe it's the wire services like AP or Reuters.  Maybe these artists are freelance, and they collect a royalty each time their drawing is used in the media.  At least two different artists have been in the courtroom with the Russian spies this week, so they're being paid by somebody.

I wonder when the profession of Courtroom Sketch Artist began.  Did the ancient Romans have a toga-clad dude in the corner of the amphitheater with a hammer and chisel?  Probably not.  The stone cutting would have been too loud and distracting.  Perhaps the occupation began after the printing press was invented in 1440 when representations could be more widely circulated. 

I wonder if US Chief Justice John Marshall (my distant cousin) might have allowed sketch artists in his courtroom in the early 1800s.  Wouldn't it be neat if there was a sketch of Justice Marshall issuing his verdict in the case of Marbury v. Madison?  The artist could catch him in an action shot with his mouth frozen in mid-sentence as he's delivering the court's precedent-setting decision.  And a gavel would be poised in his right hand just before he clamors it down against the mahogany desk plate.  Case closed.  Court dismissed.

  

Cornelius Calvin Sale, Jr, a native a Wilkes Co, NC, died on Monday at the age of 92.

Before I started writing this, I thought it might be a surprise to many people.  Then I realized that the story had been on the front page of the Wilkesboro newspaper.  Little Cornelius grew up to become Robert C. Byrd, US Senator.

On 11/20/1917 Cornelius Calvin Sale Jr (future Senator) was born in Wilkes Co to Cornelius Calvin Sale Sr (b1875) and Ada Mae Kirby (b1887).  Just 10 days short of his first birthday, his mother Ada Mae died as one of many victims of the Flu Epidemic of 1918.

Even though his father was still living and would soon remarry and have ten more children, young Robert was adopted by his father's sister Aunt Lula Sale Byrd and her husband Dalton Titus Byrd.  Lula and Dalton had been married for 15 years, and I don't believe they had any children of their own.  That probably explains why they "took in" Robert.  Incidently, I don't know how his name migrated from "Cornelius Calvin Jr" to "Robert C.", but it's not too surprising given the times and the circumstances.

Below, the 1920 Wilkes Co, NC, census, for Somers Twnp lists Robert C. Sale (age 2) as the grandson of Martha E. Sale (age 71).  Also in the household was Daulton T. Byrd (stepfather/uncle), Varluma V. Byrd (stepmother/aunt), and Hazle Sale (probably his cousin).

Click for larger image.

The earlier 1910 Wilkes Co census shows that young Robert had two older brothers named Clyde (b1907) and Willie (b1909).  I believe he also had an older sister.  Each of these children were raised by other relatives when their mother died.

By 1930, Robert's elderly grandmother had probably died, and he moved with his aunt and uncle to Raleigh Co, WV, where they are found in that year's census.  Robert is now 12 and listed as the son of Dalton and Lula as shown below in the 1930 Raleigh Co, WV, census, Slab Fork Twnp.

Click for larger image.

This is the same census, zoomed in to the names and ages.

Click for larger image.

Dalton Byrd took his family to West Virginia in search of work which he found in the coal mines.  As for Robert, except for his early childhood, his home was in WV.  He was the valedictorian of his high school class, and the rest is history.

  

This evening I did something I rarely ever do.  I gave money to a stranger who said he needed it to get home. 

I'm always skeptical of people asking for money.  I figure there's a good chance they'll just use the money to buy beer, and then they're no better off than before. 

This guy caught me as I was returning my cart in the Walmart parking lot.  Actually, we crossed paths and I politely said "Hey, how are you doing?"  He nodded his head, took a few more steps, then turned back toward me and said "It's been a hot day, hasn't it?"  I agreed, and we had another exchange about the weather and then he asked if I lived near here.  I said I did and then he started his story.

I immediately turned on my panhandler defenses because I knew it had started.  As part of my process of sizing him up, I lose the focus of the story he's telling me.  I heard something about him on his way to Asheville, something about his mother, and something about throat cancer.  The gas light of his car had come on and he knew he couldn't make it to Asheville.  He had $1 in his wallet and no debit card.  He showed me his wallet and offered to show me his gas light.

I was this close to saying, "Sorry, buddy.  I can't help you," and walking away.  But he said repeatedly that he wasn't a panhandler and he just needed gas money.  Although he was missing a few teeth, he was dressed neatly and his car looked fine, too.  I first pulled out $5, then he reminded me that he had 120 miles to go.  In a moment of weakness, I gave him $20.  He said more than once that he'd mail it back to me.  In the instant I had to make a decision, I weighed my options.  If he really needed the money, he didn't need to pay me back and I was glad to help.  If he was lying to me, I didn't want him to have my address at all.  I told him good luck, and he said, "God Bless", and we parted ways.

As I took the first step back to my truck, I decided he had lied to me.  What are the odds that his sickly mother was 120 miles away, he had been unsuccessful at trying to call his wife, and he had a completely empty wallet?  If he was going to ask me for money, why did he start by talking about the weather?  Why did he ask if I was from near here?  Why was that important?

I'm a curious person and I wanted answers.  So of course I followed him.

I let him get slightly ahead, hoping that he wouldn't see me.  But the fact that I was right behind him at the first stop light, means he might have.  To my delight, he did in fact pull in to the first gas station.  I didn't pull in behind him, and I didn't see him start to pump gas because I had to keep driving.  I made the first U-turn I could, and after catching a stop light I passed back by the gas station.  I didn't see his car.  I thought surely he didn't have time to get gas, go in to pay, and sneak past me.  Was it all a ruse?  Had he just pulled in long enough for me to pass by, and then made his escape?

I'm a curious person and I wanted more answers. 

I made another U-turn and pulled into the gas station.  I didn't see his car.  Could he be behind the gas station?  There's no pumps behind the building and it's only used for deliveries, and it's hidden from view.  Thankfully for my safety, he wasn't hiding back there.  I continued back out to the pumps along the other side of the building and there he was!  He was laughing with someone.  Could that be his friend or just some other stranger that he said hello to?  I didn't get a good look because I wanted to avoid eye contact at all cost.  He was only 10 feet away! 

I had to wait for traffic to clear before I could leave the gas station, but I wasn't through yet.  I drove to a spot only a few hundred yards away on a hill where I could see the on ramp to westbound I-40.  If he was headed to Asheville, he would be passing by in less than a minute or two.  To my surprise, I saw him drive by toward Asheville lending credibility to his story.

While I'm still curious about whether he was honest, I resisted the temptation to follow him to Asheville.  Besides, I had a gallon of milk that needed to get in the refrigerator.  I'm split about 50/50 that he was telling the truth.  When I saw him at the gas station, was he joking with his buddy that another idiot fell for his sad story?  If I had been thinking a little more clearly, I would have followed him to the gas station and paid for the gas myself.  I would have asked where he was from, and then looked at his license to verify it.  I could have offered to try and call his wife again for him.

I don't know how I might handle it differently next time.  It seems like they always catch you when you least expect it.  Hopefully, he's on his way to Asheville, and I did my good deed for the day.  If not, at least I hope he gets good and drunk tonight with my $20.

  

Since the first day of summer is in June, why isn't it the hottest month?  Isn't the sun on its most northerly track on June 21?  Shouldn't North Carolina be getting its most direct sunlight and heat during June?  Let's find out.

Before we begin, I should say that the title is a play on the tagline for NBC's Meet The Press.

First let's find out if the premise of the question is correct.  What is the warmest month in NC?  The following average high temperatures are for Charlotte, NC.

January - 51
February - 56
March - 64
April - 73
May - 80
June - 87
July - 90
August - 88
September - 82
October - 73
November - 63
December - 54

So July is the warmest month; August is second; and June is the third warmest.  Why is that?  On the first day of summer (June 21), the sun is on its most northerly track and providing NC with its most direct sunlight.  Isn't the sun what makes it hot?  More sun equals more hot, right?  Apparently not.

I found a comment online that said:

In a coastal region where the sea works as a reservoir of heat, the warmest part of the summer will be delayed to perhaps August.
In a continental region, away from the sea, the warmest part of the year will be when the sun is the highest in the sky: at the end of June and beginning of July."

OK, so NC is close to the ocean which soaks up heat during June and July when the sun is strongest, making July the hottest month.  So that must mean that a place like Wichita, Kansas, far from the ocean should be warmest in June, right?  Apparently not.  Their average temperatures are:  June (87), July (93), and August (92).  In fact, June in Wichita is an even more distant third than June in Charlotte!  So, now what?

I think another online comment gets it right:

In the Northern Hemisphere, the sun reaches its most northerly point on or about June 21 (Summer Solstice). Logically, that would be the warmest time of the year since the sun's rays are shining most directly down on us. However the earth is still warming up from winter, and the time when incoming heat and outgoing heat radiation are
equal occurs about 5-6 weeks later. That's when the warmest part of the year occurs.

Another way of saying this is that on June 21, the incoming heat from the sun still has a lot of "leftover winter" to warm up, and that heat is soaked up by the earth.  After 5 to 6 weeks, all the winter is burned off, and once again more heat starts escaping the atmosphere than stays within it.  That's why the middle of July is the hottest month in Charlotte and in Wichita!  Now you know... the rest of the story.  Good day!

  

The two space explorers had traveled light years in search of life on another planet.  Their counterparts back home had ridiculed them for even suggesting the possibility, but they were determined to search the furthest galaxies and perhaps prove the naysayers wrong.

They had stopped to inspect several planets over the eight years of their mission, but none showed signs of life.  Now, their spaceship was starting to show signs of wear, and an alarming number of sensors and instruments were no longer working.  "We're flying blind," Commander Statler said to Lieutenant Waldorf.  While Statler was officially in charge of the mission, he and Waldorf worked closely as a team and treated each other as equals.  Waldorf knew that his partner was right.  They would have to turn around and go back home because, even taking a direct path, they had a three year-long return trip.  With each additional sensor that failed, the ship was less likely to be capable of making the return journey.

Waldorf said, "I detect another Class 3 planet up ahead.  Let's investigate this one final planet, and then we'll turn around."  Statler agreed, and within two hours they were orbiting the multicolored sphere.  Unfortunately, because their advanced scanning equipment was no longer functioning, the only way to inspect the planet was to land on it.

Touchdown was soft and uneventful just as all of Statler's landings were.  He was an experienced pilot, and Waldorf felt safe with his Commander at the controls.  They quickly suited up just as they had done so many times before, and stepped out into the unknown.

Immediately they knew this was unlike the other planets they had explored.  There was life!  Wasn't it?  In front, and all around them were thin green lifeforms that seemed to be welcoming them in unison.  They were extremely tall, and Waldorf estimated that they were at least six times their own height.  None of these beings stood out from the others.  They spoke in unison in a low murmur that was completely unintelligible to the two explorers.  "What do you call yourselves?" Waldorf asked looking up at those closest to him.  He got no response.  "What do you call this place?" Statler asked as he gestured with his hands all around them.  Again, no response.

Both of them had recording devices embedded in their suits that would document everything they saw and heard.  This would be their only proof to those back home that they had found life.  While they had hoped to find intelligent life, the beings before them certainly didn't appear to be so. 

Statler began to ask another question when he was suddenly interrupted.  All of the green beings began speaking louder and swaying back and forth in violent motions.  Statler asked, "What are they doing?" 

Waldorf replied, "I don't know, but I think we've made them angry."  The green beings started speaking even louder, now a dull roar and the beings behind them leaned over and brushed the back of the two explorers.  Waldorf jumped at the unexpected sensation and yelled, "Let's get out of here!"

Statler had already taken the first step back to the ship, and Waldorf was right on his heels.  They quickly raced inside and closed the door behind them.  Statler pressed the emergency takeoff button and in seconds they had blasted away and left the atmosphere of the strange planet.  Statler set a course back home, and it was nearly an hour before they had relaxed enough to start talking about their ordeal.

"At least they didn't have any weapons," Waldorf commented. 

Statler said, "How do you know they didn't?  We got out of there so fast, maybe they just didn't have time to use them."  They both knew they had had a close call, but it was worth it.  They had their evidence that there was life on another planet.  Now, they just had to make it back home.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
EPILOGUE

Statler and Waldorf did make it back home, and they did present their evidence to an awestruck crowd on their own planet.  Except their home planet was not Earth.  They were from the planet Tasmuaras.  Earth was the strange planet they visited.  They landed in the small town of Hardin, Kentucky, in the front yard of Dave Palmer, a disc jockey at a local radio station.  Even though Mr. Palmer was home, he had no idea he had visitors.  Why?  Because his visitors were only a half inch tall, and they had landed in his freshly mowed green lawn.  Perhaps if the visitors had stayed longer, the two parties would have met, but a gust of wind blew through the grass and scared them off.  Mr. Palmer missed his only opportunity to meet the inhabitants of Tasmuaras.

  

The results are in, and it appears that my experiment has been a success.

It was in February that I wrote my first article on a plan to minimize my power bill.  Over a two month period I implemented several energy saving techniques with the qualification that none of them would negatively impact my way of living.  Of course I could save money by not turning on the air conditioning, but when it's 90 degrees, "I want my AC please."  (Didn't Dire Straits write a song about that?)

How do I know this was a success?  My April power bill was the lowest it's ever been.  I've used a spreadsheet to record every power bill I've gotten over 6 years (doesn't everyone do this?), and for the month of April I used less kWh/day than during any previous month.  This even includes the first few months I lived here when I didn't have a whole lot of stuff to turn on.

But you observantly point out that maybe this April was simply a month where very little AC or heat was needed.  Maybe April is always a low power-consuming month.  It is, but it's not the lowest.  October averages the least power usage, and May is second.  April ranks third, closely followed by September.  I need to see May's numbers before I can conclusively say that my power consumption is less, but I'm convinced already.

If the trend continues, it looks like I'll save about $100 each year.  It's not a fortune, but not bad for a fun little experiment.  There are some more complicated things I could do such as install solar panels, but it looks like they might take 10 to 15 years to pay for themselves.  Until it becomes more cost-effective I'll wait on that.  In the meantime, I think I'll use my savings to go buy a box of JELL-O Pudding Pops.

  

Why can't people follow the rules?  Granted, it's an unspoken rule, but still a rule nonetheless.

Many restaurants -- particularly fast food places -- have booths or tables lined up along the wall.  If someone is sitting at a table alone, and you're also alone, you don't sit at the next table so that you're facing the other person.  You sit on the other side of this next table so that your back is to him/her.  Otherwise, you're forced to stair at each other in an awkward silent dual while eating your meal.

Observing this rule is (of course) the responsibility of the person who arrives last.  If the other guy sits down facing you, it's not like you can just switch seats.  That's an even worse faux pas!

Then again, to be fair, there is another approach to this dilemma.  You could actually start up a conversation with the other person.  What a novel idea!  You might become friends, pals, buddies!  Then he might start wanting to borrow money from you.  He might ask you to take a big relationship step and help him move.  You'll ask if there's a sofa, and he'll say yes and that it's a 3-piece sectional.  You'll ask if there are stairs to go up and down, and he'll say yes that he lives on the fourth floor of a building with no elevator.  Then you'll ask his name, and he'll say, "I'm Keith Hernandez."

  

Well, Americans, our government has done it to us again.  Yet another example of how Washington insists on intruding in our lives.  The brazenness with which our politcians trounce on our freedoms and individuality is reprehensible.  What am I talking about?  I think it's all too clear.  Of course I'm talking about the 2010 census.

Last week, I -- like all other Americans -- received my 2010 census form in the mail.  Of course it was mixed in with two credit card offers, an advertisement for the weekly sale at Bi-Lo, and my monthly issue of "Sheep!" magazine.  The difference here is that I had the freedom to toss away the credit card offers and the advertisement.  (I'm keeping my magazine!  You never know when you'll need to use the latest techniques in power-sheering.)

What I'm fired up about is that our government requires us to fill out the census form.  They ask us 10 deeply personal questions such as "How many people live in this house?" and "What is your name?"  I mean, why does Washington need to know these things?  Next thing you know, they'll be asking us for our address!  Oh, it's coming.

Not only is the government intruding on our personal lives, but they're doing it wastefully.  It took 6 pages for the Dept of Commerce to ask these questions.  Question 1 asks how many people were living or staying in your home on April 1.  In case you lied in answering that question, our sneaky government comes back and asks the same thing again in Question 2:  "Were there any additional people staying here April 1, 2010 that you did not include in Question 1?"  Gotcha!

Since when does the government need to know these intimate details?  In my opinion, since never.  The real answer?  Since 1790 and every 10 years since.  Here is a copy of the 1930 census (click on it to see a larger view).



As you can see, they got so personal as to ask your Occupation, Marital Status, and Education.  The nerve!  If Michele Bachmann is refusing to fill out this census, just imagine how appalled she would be if she were living in 1930 rural America!  I know how I would feel if I were living in 1930 rural America.  I'd be grateful that I know the latest techniques in power-sheering a sheep.

  

It's been 10 days and TED and I have been hard at work analyzing exactly where my electricity is going.  We have a system:  I set up the experiment, and TED reads the power usage.  We've collected a lot of data, and I can already tell that I'm saving in places I would never have expected.

Who knew that ...
...the light bulb inside of my microwave uses 35W?
...the two light bulbs inside the refrigerator use 80W? -- That's more than half what the entire refrigerator uses while cooling!
...the cordless phone uses 5W even when you're not using it?
...a PC and CRT monitor and some peripherals use 10W while turned off?

Or that...
...the water heater uses 5300W when it's running (maybe an hour a day)?
...the HVAC uses 2700W each time it comes on?
...the clothes drier uses 5800W when it's running?
...the refrigerator uses only 125W when it's on?  -- When left closed, its cycle is 10 minutes on, and 20 minutes off.

Just as I was surprised by how many light bulbs I have, I was amazed by how many things are plugged in and sucking power.  "Idle Power" is the amount of power being used when the house is at rest.  Everything is off, but the power meter is still turning.  When I first got TED, my idle power was about 170W.  Now I'm able to keep it at 90W because I leave things I never use unplugged. 

By reducing my idle power, I'm saving 80W a day for 24hrs/day for 30 days/month at ~$0.10 per kWH.  Let's use just 90% of that number because every now and then I do actually turn some of that stuff on.  That's $5.18 monthly savings, or about 5% of my power bill.  Adding that to the 5.5% I saved by switching to CFL bulbs, I've now saved a total of 10.5%.  Yeah!

Disclaimer:  I'm really not this cheap.  In my own strange way, I think this is fun.  I enjoy the challenge of crunching the numbers and understanding where my money is going.  And, who wouldn't want to reduce their power bill, or any other bill?  All winter local TV news has reported on energy customers being upset and complaining to their utilities about how high their bill was.  I say, quit complaining and do something about it.  You're the one who turned on the light switch.  As with everything in life, there are consequences.  Understand them and decide accordingly.  ...If only Tiger Woods had read this a few years ago.  Now there's a man who's had a lesson in consequences!