JACK BERNARD'S TRAVELS

Posted by jdbernard743

· October 3, 2015

What if… ?

Think of all the times you thought, “What if…?” What if you had called the girl (or guy) you exchanged numbers with but were too busy to follow up on? What if you had gone to that “other” school instead of the UW? What if you had called off the wedding you knew was a mistake instead of going through with it? What if you had taken the flight that crashed? So many “what ifs.”

That’s the premise underlying Steven Dietz’s play Bloomsday now playing at ACT Theater in Seattle. Bloomsday, as it is known in literary circles, occurs every June 16 to mark the day James Joyce first published Ulysses. Leopold Bloom, Joyce’s character, walks the streets of Dublin visiting friends, bars, and a brothel. The play Bloomsday is set in present day Dublin (or is it Dublin 35 years ago?). Time shifts between the two periods as the four actors on stage consider the “what ifs.” The two young actors are an Irish girl who takes visitors around the city celebrating Ulysses and recreating Leopold Bloom’s day and an American student who joins her tour group. The other two actors are their older selves ruminating on what might have happened if they had acted on their feelings 35 years earlier. The premise is clever and the dialogue crisp and funny. One of the advantages of being a writer is the ability to change outcomes and endings. One of my favorite novels, The French Lieutenant’s Woman has more that one ending. The reader can choose the one he likes best. Steven Dietz does something similar in Bloomsday. The young performers have a “what if” opportunity to choose a different ending.

I was thinking about Bloomsday the other day when I learned that jazz saxophonist, Phil Woods, had passed away. There was a “what if” moment in Wood’s life too. If he had chosen differently he would have deprived us of 70 years of great music. His “what if” moment came at age 12 when he inherited a sax from an uncle. He wasn’t much interested but his mother suggested he take at least one lesson “because your uncle went to a great deal of trouble to leave you the saxophone.” Clever woman. Later, Woods acknowledged that dying did indeed qualify as “a great deal of trouble.”

After that first lesson Mr. Woods continued with them in his hometown, then he moved on to Juilliard, and from there to play with all the jazz greats, Monk, Goodman, Parker and Dizzy Gillespie. Later in his career he added color to the songs of Billy Joel (Just The Way You Are) and Paul Simon (Have a Good Time). Woods was 83 when he died of emphysema complications. Despite the emphysema he continued to perform though he needed a wheel chair and an oxygen bottle. Imagine what it was like to blow extended riffs on a sax while suffering from emphysema. The man loved his craft.

Ulysses had its what if moment in 1922. It was banned as obscene in America, but Sylvia Beach, the expatriate Parisian bookseller, running her iconic Shakespeare & Company, borrowed the money to publish her friend’s novel.. Despite the American ban Ulysses became an international literary success, but it wasn’t until 1934 that an American judge ruled it “a sincere and honest book” and cleared the way for an American edition. It’s another “what if.” What if Sylvia Beach hadn’t borrowed the money and taken the risk? What if the 1934 case had gone to another judge? Life is full of what if moments.

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Categories : Theater, Uncategorized

Posted by jdbernard743

· September 24, 2015

· 7 Comments

“Still crazy after all these years…” Paul Simon

What do the winner of the 1995 Nobel Prize in Economics, a trauma surgeon who transformed emergency care in America, a leading golfer on the LPGA tour, “one of America’s most gifted trial lawyers,” and a Marine fighter pilot have in common? I’m sure there is a good punch line, but the answer is that they all graduated from one of America’s best public high schools in 1955.

Roosevelt is a large urban high school serving a mostly affluent population in Seattle. Out of a graduating class of 750 eager, impulsive teenagers, Saturday night’s turnout was 150 older and hopefully wiser adults. The mood was overwhelmingly celebratory in spite of the sobering fact that more than 100 of our brethren (and sistren) have passed on.

Over the 60 years since graduation there have been a number of reunions on benchmark anniversaries – 10, 20, 25, and 50. Roosevelt sits only a mile from the University of Washington and a majority of its graduates go on to college. After graduation our class had it’s diaspora and Roosevelt graduates moved on to live and work in other places before coming back this weekend to celebrate their common experience. There are exceptional people and classes in high schools across the country, and we may not be that remarkable, but the RHS Class of ’55 has a memorable share of successful graduates.

Bob Lucas, “our” Nobel Prize winner, is still actively working in the prestigious Department of Economics at the University of Chicago where he was a protégé and colleague of Milton Friedman’s. In Jr. High a group of us learned to play bridge in the Lucas’ dining room. It was clear to us that Bob had a superior intelligence but it’s even clearer now why I never won then. I’m the Marine fighter pilot. He’s the Nobel laureate. It’s not that difficult to understand.

What is more difficult to understand are the career achievements of Dave “Pook” Boyd and Gary “the Hood” Gwilliam. Pook is the famous trauma surgeon and The Hood is “one of America’s most gifted trial lawyers.”

Dave Boyd was the laconic quarterback on a high school football team whose singular distinction is that it failed to score for an entire season. “No score in ‘54” is the cry that still haunts our class – but it is catchy and memorable After graduation Dave “Pook” Boyd did not go to the NFL. He went over to Central Washington University in Ellensburg intending to become a teacher and coach, but sometime during his tenure at CWU he encountered a surgeon from Seattle who convinced him that medical school at McGill University in Montreal was his next stop. And so it was.

After graduating from McGill Dave “Pook” Boyd became Dr. David R. Boyd, a resident surgeon at Cook County Hospital in Chicago. His experience at CCH led him to identify the need and develop a plan that revolutionized emergency room care nationwide. He spearheaded the creation of what would become a nationwide network of Trauma Centers.

If you were ever a fan of the TV series ER, you owe Dave Boyd some of the credit for your pleasure. County General Hospital in Chicago was the setting for the series but the real model was Cook County Hospital and the Trauma Center established by Dr. David R. Boyd. Think George Clooney not “No Score in ’54.”

My favorite Boyd story is typical of our favorite quarterback; at some point, in frustration over bureaucratic blockage, he called the White House and asked if the President was in. Two clicks later the voice on the other end said, “President Ford here. How can I help you?” That’s Dave Boyd. He doesn’t believe in forming committees and never relied on data. He knew what needed to be done and did it.

Gary “The Hood” Gwilliam is another unlikely success story. In high school no one knew Gary. He came late and left early – he didn’t go to one of the feeder schools and when he arrived at RHS he decided life on the dark side was more interesting than football, pom-poms, and field house dances. Gary joined a gang and started using drugs, including heroin.

Though he didn’t know his real father, was ignored by his stepfather and spent time as a gang member, by some mystical transformation Gary found his way from community college to Pomona College and on to law school at Boalt Hall at UC Berkeley. Though Gary and I went to high school and law school in the same places our paths never crossed until the Class of ‘55’s 50^th reunion.

Within a few years of law school graduation he opened his own law firm in Oakland and began building his reputation as a trial lawyer. He eventually cleaned up his life and wrote about it in an autobiography entitled “Getting a Winning Verdict in My Personal Life. Part of his transformation took place when he decided to attend that 50^th reunion in 2005. He didn’t know a soul but wanted to meet the people he went to school with at that formative time in his life. Someone who knew I had gone to law school at UC Berkeley brought us together, and we’ve been friends ever since.

Looking in the rearview mirror today it is clear how different 1955 was from the present. Our yearbook reveals not one person of color, and though many of the women became teachers I’m aware of only one lawyer and no doctors in the class. My wife, Marilynn, has her own senior healthcare consulting business but for 25 years she experienced bias, hostility, and a glass ceiling as she moved up in her chosen profession. I’m sure others experienced the same bias and hostility. My entering class in law school had 3 women out of 250. Today’s classes are almost equally divided between men and women. The same holds true for medical schools.

Our single female celebrity was Ruth Jessen, one of the pioneers of the LPGA (Ladies Professional Golf Association), who was denied the opportunity to play on the RHS golf team because of her gender. Ruth won 11 LPGA titles between 1956 and 1971. Unfortunately, she wasn’t with us this weekend having passed away of lung cancer in 2007. None of this is to suggest that Seattle was racist, misogynist, or intolerant. Our Class of ‘55 was simply representative of society and the entrenched social norms of the times. By 1964 Bob Dylan’s The Times They Are A Changin’ was released revealing the shifting norms and changing awareness of the next decade.

I’ve never been a big fan of reunions – like New Year’s Eve they often seem to be setups for disappointment. These two – our 50^th and 60^th – are notable exceptions. I’m sorry I didn’t get to talk to more people on Saturday night. It was a great success and that is due in large part to the generosity of a few people who gave selflessly of their time and resources. Carolyn Bryant Scheyer is that one in a million person who knows everyone in the class and keeps track of them. She has been the glue for all of our reunions since the 10^th in 1965, and the prime mover and organizer of all of them. Along with Carolyn is a classmate who is our primary benefactor, a guy named Jim Weymouth who, with his wife Roberta, is the owner of a chain of boutique hotels called Silver Cloud Inns. Jim has given untold sums to Roosevelt, hired a few of our down on their luck classmates, and donated hotel facilities to host these reunions. We couldn’t have done it without these two.

We’re all in our late ‘70’s now. 100 of us are gone already. How many more reunions will we have? Not many, I’m sure, but it’s always good to live in the present and in the present this one was terrific. I saw friends who live in Maryland, Florida, California, Arizona, Idaho, and Illinois. The Internet is an amazing tool for keeping in touch with people, but there is nothing like shaking hands or getting a hug from a friend you haven’t seen in 60 years.

My friend, Tom Wilson, died earlier this year. We had known each other since the 5^th grade. Tommy was always the Emcee for these gatherings, He had what my father called “the gift of gab,” so when Carolyn asked me to step in and say a few words as the Emcee I was touched. I felt like an imposter – this was Tommy’s gig – but I did it and in the end I enjoyed being able to stand in for my old friend.

RIP

Campbell Thomas Wilson

1937-2015

Dr. Dave “Pook” Boyd’s Essay on “No Score in ’54”

After I published my reunion blog Dave told me he had written an essay “explaining” how No Score in ’54 came to pass and how it matured into a lasting legacy in Roosevelt’s history.

Here is Pook’s story:

Not many high schools, football teams or quarterbacks can say that. But we can and I can, and have for the past 60 years. And this was, of course, a recurring theme at the RHS Class of 1955, 60th reunion in Seattle this summer. I was repeatedly invited to comment on this indelible memory, but the raucous reunion event precluded any serious discussion of this historical footnote to our senior year. I recently learned of Jack Bernard’s blog and subsequently offered a short explanation and my analysis of that memorable experience. I think that most high school graduates at their 60th reunion would not remember their football team’s season final rank (unless they won their championship), but we, the class of 1955, will never forget ours. The story: The 1954 football season looked good for the RHS Rough Rider Football squad. We had, after all, been undefeated while winning the junior varsity league the year before. We looked and played well and were all together as a group and as a team. We, especially the senior leaders, were brimming with confidence, youthful energy, and enthusiasm. That summer, as many of you might recall, Head Coach Lou Hull’s son was killed during a climb of Mt Rainier. Gene had been the RHS quarterback two years before, leading RHS to a good year. There was some talk that Lou might not coach that fall, but despite the tragic loss of his son, he returned to the field, with the same offensive strategy as in previous years, which was classic Big Ten and Notre Dame Football of the time. It was an over-shifted right wing, (i.e., bringing the left tackle over to the right side and to run the strong side run-pass option). We all knew it by heart. I took books out of the library and studied it all summer. This system worked best when it was new in 1950 when Mike Monroe was the running/throwing half back and RHS won the city championship. It had worked less well over the next years, even with good players, because unfortunately, every other high school football coach in Seattle also knew about it and planned accordingly. Our right guard, two tackles and the end were reactively covered by the opposition’s left shifted defensive line, line backers and safeties. The other teams were ready. Over and over, we ran and threw into this stacked defense. (More on that later) Even though the record books say that we did not score a point all season, here is the Real History: Playing West Seattle in the first quarter of the opening Jamboree, we did, in fact, Score in’54 —the first touchdown of the new season. And I did it! We drove the ball down the field to the 1 yard line. I called a quarterback sneak on a quick count and Viola! 6 points! And one more after we converted the P.A.T. 1st Quarter score: RHS 7 vs WS 0. However, because this touchdown was made in the Jamboree essentially an exhibition game it wasn’t counted in the league statistics. The following week, we played Lincoln, and we were pumped! But lost 30 to zero. This was the first of a sad set of losses and the progressive doom of questioning when would we win and eventually when would we score a touchdown, or anything? The team was initially surprised as we truly thought we were pretty good and certainly we could beat Cleveland, West Seattle or Queen Anne. But we did not. Our postgame analysis was always, “critique light” and Lou would embark with a talk on a theoretical level of “becoming men of virtue” and that it was not whether we won or lost, but how we played the game. Of course that was not what we wanted to hear nor felt we needed. We wanted to win……..and, later on, to at LEAST score a touchdown. Late in the season, when we did score two touchdowns, both were called back on penalties. This did nothing but deepen our gloom. Team talk was all about if we could or would score a TD. Not a pleasant atmosphere. From a play-by-play analysis, we were disadvantaged by the opposition knowing that every play went to the right and being anticipated by a ready crowd of defenders. Tom Orrell, our able running-throwing half back, came back to the huddle more than once and said “Pook, give it to someone else, they’re killing me”. Unfortunately there wasn’t much else we could do. I drew up some sand-lot X and O plays in the huddle, i.e., counter runs and traps back to our left “weak” side and some quick slant passes. It really became a burden for the whole team by the end of the season. Friends, interested folks and classmates were supportive, hopeful and sympathetic but everyone around town seemed to have already seen the end of this movie. The RHS student body remained loyal, energetically supportive and optimistic to the very END, which in some ways made it even more challenging Because of a coach rule the football team didn’t go to the school’s 7:00 am pep rallies on days when we had night games. But for our last game vs Queen Anne, the cheerleaders corralled me and a few others to come to the pep rally. Standing on stage as a packed house of our classmates and friends cheered and rooted us on to victory was an overwhelming experience. We all knew they would settle for a score, which we didn’t produce! When the final gun went off, ending the QA game, I thought this nightmare was finally over, but it wasn’t. The local press and national news wires found our plight “interesting” and the “No Score in ‘54” legacy was born. The next year, when Russ Orrell scored the RHS first TD in the ’55 season, he and a crying RHS cheerleader were in a full page photo in Life Magazine. (I would appreciate a copy of this from any one. Thanks.) During that football season there was amazing solidarity among the team. There was no bitching, no complaints about others’ performance, no back stabbing, no bad mouthing Lou Hull or going to Assistant Coach Don Harney to have him take over the team. Likewise, neither I nor we experienced any booing, negative criticism or demonstrations from the student body. Everyone seemed to understand that it was not that we didn’t play hard for 48 minutes every game, but this was something that we were all experiencing and living through together. Sort of a bad group Karma…team members and the entire student body. I was honored and humbled at the end of the season when the team quite surprisingly voted me both the Team Honorary Captain and the Inspirational Award. No Score in ’54 has been a “binder of sorts” over the years. But, I didn’t expect any of us thought it would go on for 60 YEARS! And maybe forever. Lessons learned: There are many. The value of hard work, team effort and hanging together in bleak times, I am sure, was gained by the entire team and the student body. For me there are two personal elements; 1) don’t accept the leadership responsibility for a group of young people unless you are prepared to lead them. And 2) hanging together in a group during hard times is an experience that hopefully provides the grit, optimism and trust in others essential for the long haul of life. Post Script: Jim Mullins, our very capable team center, went on to college and medical school as I did. He specialized in Internal Medicine and enjoyed a successful professional and happy family life. Jim passed away in July 2001 and my sister Marietta (RHS 1964) sent me his obituary. The obituary, correctly described Jim’s professional and family life. It then went on to remind everyone that Jim had played center on the now infamous Roosevelt High School “NO SCORE IN ‘54” football team. I said to myself, “Oh my god”! We will all carry this to our graves, (and beyond). I sent a message out to Seattle, that it wasn’t Jim’s fault. In fact everything was quite OK when Jim had the football. It was when he gave it to me that the trouble started. You can see why my exit plans are to die silently out of town. Way out of town! The perpetually nasty press will have to find me. Please don’t tip them off.

David R “Pook” Boyd MDCM

Categories : Personal/Family

Posted by jdbernard743

· September 16, 2015

· No Comments

Fall Arts… or How To Cope With The Coming Rains

Last week The Seattle Times published its Fall Arts insert, a quarterly listing of “Critics’ Picks And Calendars To Help You Plan The Season.” – a compilation of book and author readings, classical music, comedy, dance, pop music, theater, and visual arts events coming to town in the next three months. The most surprising thing about it for Surviving Seattle readers is the incredible number of things going on as winter approaches. With the weather closing in there are plenty of ways to “survive” the darkening skies.

Years ago I wrote a short story about a bachelor San Francisco attorney who lived near the turn of the 20th century. A solitary and serious writer, he loved books but thought there was no point in adding to the immense inventory that lined the shelves of bookstores and libraries. For years he wrote steadily and stealthily never attempting to publish. When he finished one book he placed it on a shelf in the closet and started another. After his death his work was discovered and he was celebrated as a literary genius of the James Joyce caliber.

I understand how my fictional alter-ego felt, and I’m reminded of those feelings whenever I visit Elliott Bay, Powell’s, or Third Place Books. Last weekend, after reading Fall Arts the feeling was refreshed as I counted over 200 author readings between September 9 and November 16. Yes, some of the writers are reading more than once, but the mind boggles at the thought that there could be that many published writers hawking their work locally. Not only was the list long but I was surprised to find that I only recognized a handful of the names. There are some big ones headed our way – Jonathan Franzen, Elizabeth Gilbert, Erica Jong, Richard Blanco (poet laureate), Colum McCann, Robert Reich, and Gloria Steinem – but there were close to 200 writers, poets, and playwrights I’d never heard of. It’s well known that the literary life is alive and well in Seattle but so are the other arts.

I counted 61 classical music and 15 ballet and modern dance venues. Seattle Opera, Seattle Symphony, Northwest Sinfonietta, the Tacoma, Federal Way, Auburn, Bremerton and Edmonds symphonies, Pacific Northwest Ballet, UW World Dance Series, Velocity Dance Center and On The Boards offer loads of opportunities for serious music, and dance aficionados. If that isn’t enough, Seattle is home to one of the most creative and original theater scenes in the country. There is something for every taste from Shakespeare to Book of Mormon. The 5^th Avenue Theater has found a niche for musicals that aspire to Broadway runs and in the last few years it has hosted the world premieres of Light on the Piazza, Memphis, and Something Rotten, Broadway hits all. Seattle Rep and ACT Theater have showcased works by August Wilson, Tom Stoppard, David Hare, and Tracy Letts plus countless new works by lesser known playwrights. Bartlett Sher, the former Artistic Director of Intiman Theater, has moved on to Broadway where he won Tony Awards for South Pacific and Light in the Piazza and earned a 2015 nomination for his revival of The King and I. He moved on to bigger things but left a legacy of artistic innovation and integrity that keeps us all on the edges of our seats.

So, with Fall Arts as a guide, I’m starting to check the Weekend section of The Seattle Times for what’s new for the coming week. Many times I’ve gone to Elliot Bay Book Company or Third Place Books to hear a writer I’ve never heard of read from his or her new book just because the blurb in the paper sounded interesting. I plan to keep it up. It’s rarely a disappointment. New books and other arts experiences freshen the mind – and besides, it’s dry inside..

Categories : Books, Theater

Posted by jdbernard743

· September 8, 2015

· No Comments

The Glass Is Still Half Full… but

The weather turned south about ten days ago. After a hot, dry, sunny summer it suddenly changed to cool, wet and overcast. Conventional wisdom tells us Labor Day marks the end of summer even though the equinox doesn’t come around until later in the month. It signals the seasonal change. I realize that because of the minimal snow pack from last winter and the long dry summer we need the rain, but, selfishly, I hate to see the end of summer. The sun is late rising now and low in the south in the early evening. The fall rains will be arriving soon.

With luck we will get some more beautiful days but we’re in the transition zone. It’s mental as much as atmospheric. Instead of planning bike rides a week in advance we have to be spontaneous and take them when we can. Instead of looking for restaurants with outside seating we look for those with warm welcoming interiors. Instead of local produce and chilled salads we begin to think of pasta and chili. Outdoor concerts are dicey propositions now and we’ve started checking out the fall movies and new releases at Elliot Bay Books. I have a good friend who begins to lament the end of the weekend on Saturday night, and though that’s too extreme for me I do feel wistful as Labor Day passes and winter edges into consciousness.

This week Surviving Seattle began the transition and notched two new discoveries – a sensational restaurant and an indie film that shows why that genre is so important and artful.

Brian Clevenger is a local boy and the chef/owner of Vendemmia in Seattle’s Madrona neighborhood. At 30 years old he’s been around – starting in home town Anacortes where he made gallons of chowder as a teenager, to culinary school in Seattle, a year at a Michelin two star restaurant near Lyon, a stint at Delfina in San Francisco and two with Ethan Stowell at Tavolata and Staple and Fancy. It’s clear he knows what he’s doing. With a minimalist décor and small open kitchen, he opened Vendemmia in April and there is already a planned expansion with a roof garden where Brian will grow half of the restaurants produce.

Thanks to Seattle Times’ food writer Providence Cicero we chose the Chef’s Table (counter, actually) where service is limited to 4 people. Seated at the end of the counter where we could watch the food preparation and talk to Brian, it was a memorable dining experience. He and his staff were relaxed but attentive – talking us through the various courses as they were delivered. With paired wines to accompany them, we tasted a few small appetizers followed by roasted baby beets with razor thin slices of pear, grilled salmon, charred shoestring Walla Walla green beans, a simple spaghetti with tomato sauce, beef tartar with grilled bread rounds, black cod with leeks, and a panna cotta with grilled peaches – all at a very reasonable price. The night of our visit was Brian’s 63rd day without a break. Despite the long hours and lack of rest he was fresh and personable but looking forward to Labor Day when the restaurant would be closed for the holiday.

One of our dining companions has a health issue that calls for a complicated dietary regimen. She called Brian a few days before our reservation to ask if he could accommodate her diet and he told her it wouldn’t be a problem. With one or two exceptions our meal was built around those restrictions and the result was both impressive and delicious.

The Chef’s Table is now booked nearly a month in advance. Word is spreading that this is something special.

So, too, is the new film Learning to Drive, an indie jewel based on Katha Pollit’s real life experience as a New York woman who takes driving lessons from a foreign teacher after her male partner dumps her and forces her to become more self reliant. Patricia Clarkson, in the lead role, has been one of my favorite actors since her performances in The Station Agent and Good Night and Good Luck. The Sikh cab driver/teacher is played by Sir Ben Kingsley and the two are perfectly matched as social and cultural opposites. The highly strung, privileged, upper-class white woman and the unflappable Sikh professor now in political exile and working as a New York cab driver/driving instructor.

The film is alternately touching and funny with lessons learned on both sides. It’s a keeper.

The seasonal transition is in progress, but I’m not giving up on summer yet. The glass is still half full, and with luck we will have a few more weeks of mixed good days and bad – something like the stock market of late. Hopefully it won’t be that volatile, but it will highlight the change of seasons. The fat lady hasn’t sung yet but she’s warming up.

Categories : Food/Restaurants

Posted by jdbernard743

· September 2, 2015

· 1 Comment

The Next Big One…

Last weekend’s wind and rainstorm, the most damaging in Seattle’s history, turned this blog in on itself. Surviving Seattle, from the beginning has been about activities that help me “survive” Seattle’s weather, but it was never about “survival.” Today’s post is different.

This is a picture of my friend Trish Quinn’s home on Saturday when the wind felled trees, took down power lines, and closed roads.

By the looks of it Trish got off easy. The tree was removed and there was no serious damage to the house, but by the end of the day Saturday there were two deaths from falling trees and almost half a million people were without power. 911 operators were overwhelmed and the streets and Interstate were gridlocked with fallen trees, scattered debris, and failed traffic lights.

After two hours of watching the wind whip leaves and branches from the huge cottonwoods in Log Boom Park next door, we lost power at our condo about 10 a.m. Because power losses in our neighborhood are not unusual, I naively imagined other normally quiet areas nearby would still be operating. Not so. When we drove – very slowly – to Les Schwab Tire to have new tires installed we discovered all the businesses in that neighborhood were shut down too.

On Sunday morning, still without power, I called our favorite espresso joint, Caffe Ladro, and was thrilled to hear they had power. At 9:00 when we arrived, having negotiated 7 miles of roads without traffic lights this is what the pastry case looked like:

The 6:00 a.m. pastry delivery sold out by 8:00 because everyone without power was looking for the same thing – breakfast and a clean well-lighted place to read the Sunday paper. We were lucky enough to get the last Danish in the case and those 16 oz. lattes were sensational. The hungry hoards kept coming but missed out on the goodies.

Relatively speaking, we were lucky; our power came back on at 10:00 Sunday morning, but we were still without cable, Internet or telephone until sometime Monday. According to the Seattle Times there there were still 60,000 homes in the area without power on Monday evening.

If we had some relatively minor cleanup to do at our place it was a blessing. Five miles away in Lynnwood this was the situation:

On a weather-related note, the July 20, 2015 issue of The New Yorker featured an article about “The Really Big One” a predicted earthquake that will destroy a sizable portion of the coastal Northwest. Scary stuff, and it was the primary topic of media hype until Donald Trump started bloviating about Mexican rapists. So much for real news.

The Seattle area is no stranger to wind and rainstorms. They normally begin in November, not August, but power outages are not uncommon. So, what to make of these facts – this was the hottest driest summer on record and the biggest windstorm in history came in August? They suggest to me that something odd is happening to the weather, and I’m not alone. Climate change is in the air, no pun intended, and on the tip of everyone’s tongue. Do we believe it’s real? Apparently not.

According to Scientific American, “In 2014, the vast majority (87 percent) of scientists said that human activity is driving global warming, and yet only half the American public ascribed to that view though 77 percent of scientists said climate change is a very serious problem. In comparison only 33 percent of the general public said it was a very serious problem in 2013.” That the split exists is common knowledge, but why? It seems the majority of Americans would rather align their scientific views with their political ideology of choice than accept what the majority scientific view.

Are we surprised? For the most part these parochial naysayers are the same people who believe God created humans 10,000 years ago, a view that hasn’t changed much in 30 years. According to a 2014 Gallup Poll, 42% of Americans believe in a Creationist perspective – that God created human life as we know it somewhere between 5,000 and 10,000 years ago. According to the same Gallup survey the remaining 58% believe in some kind of evolutionary explanation for the origin of human life.

I’m currently reading Elizabeth Kolbert’s Pulitzer Prize-winning The Sixth Extinction: An Unnatural History, a book that postulates we are in the midst of the next major extinction event. Dinosaurs and glaciers are gone and we could be next? Kolbert makes a convincing argument that the change is upon us.

Possible extinction may account for my intolerance of climate change deniers and Creationists with their heads in 10,000 years of sand. Whatever the truth is about The Big One, wind and rainstorms, evolution, and The Sixth Extinction I suggest we all do what we already should have done – buy a bunch of flashlights, a battery powered transistor radio, and an emergency kit for the next time the lights go out, the roads buckle, and the china cabinet falls over. The power might stay off for weeks.

Good luck.

Categories : Uncategorized