3 idiots from chalcedony county

The Alberton Papers Vol. VI, #XVI
By Dick Darne 7-28-08
The Think Tank was up and cogitating early this morning. Everyone was waiting for the arrival of our learned friend, Professor Sven Berkowitz, who was bringing his brother Lars, who heads up the Nodak U Political Science and Industrial Technology department. Lars had been observing events in Alvinville, over in Chalcedony County. We didn’t have to wait long, two scholarly gentlemen pedaled up on their bikes, hopped off, hung up their helmets and came inside.
"Wunnerful, wunnerful, glad to see you boys. How do you like our bikes? Latest technology from Nodak U Research Department. Made of Knapweed fibers, stronger than steel. Faster than walking and great gas mileage." exclaimed Sven.
"Yah, but don’t park ‘em in the middle of a field using insects for weed control or your bike might get eaten." added Lars. It was good to see that Lars’ sense of humor equaled that of Sven.
"You boys have some questions ? On the phone you asked about an economy based on constant growth. Well let me tell you, that which can’t go on forever, won’t. Depending on the pie always getting bigger is like eating your seeds for the future crops, or eating your laying hens, or your breeding stock." said Sven.
"Of course, some will always find a way to profit right to the end." added Lars. "Did anyone ever wonder what the man who cut down the last tree on Easter Island was thinking? Have any of you ever read ‘The Tragedy of the Commons’? Some of these things are happening over in Chalcedony County right now. They have been trying very hard to have an aggrandizement policy for their area, to have some guidelines for growth. Then along comes these three neanderthals and they start verbally abusing anyone who they perceive to be standing in their way."
"Just who are these idiots?" someone asked.
"I’ll just give you a little background on them." answered Lars. "Idiot number one is just a loudmouth bully who thinks he’s still playing in his sandbox with the smaller kids, number two’s claim to fame is his willingness to cross a picket line and number three is the kid from the Chalcedony County crime family who they sent to law school."
"Wow!" someone exclaimed. "Aren’t you worried that the bully might come after you?"
"Well, if he does I guess it’ll be my name on his mailbox." answered Lars.
"I think they might benefit from anger management classes." added Sven
"That picket crossing bit kinda rankles me." said Bill Woods. All good working men are obligated to lend a hand to all branches of honorable toil but crossing a picket line should earn one a lifetime of scorn, as one unworthy of assistance."
"Amen." rose up collectively from the thinkers.
"The truth is out there, let’s free it!" was Sven’s parting words.
"Read the Tragedy of the Commons, book report due next week." added Lars.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tragedy_of_the_commons Will get you there. dd

well being (or being well?)

The Alberton Papers, Vol. VI, #XV
By Dick Darne 7-21-08
As my readers have noticed, the Think Tank has been on vacation for a few weeks. I had pretty well shut my own brain down for a rest, while enjoying the company of my granddaughters and nieces. Things throughout the country and world did not improve but probably worsened. In spite of all the fist pumping, rah-rah, we are number one, shining beacon on the hill, can do no wrong chosen nation rhetoric, reality must take over eventually.
What have we to show for thirty years of rule by whackoes? Over four thousand of our finest young people in their graves, countless Iraqi civilians dead, a quantum multiplication of terrorists, torture as a matter of policy and the reputation of our country, which at one time was the envy of the world, is in the dumpster. Practically all of the mainstream media firmly in control of the largest corporations, rivaling if not surpassing Pravda in churning out propaganda. The airwaves filled with hate and fearmongering, what passes for public discourse dominated by fear and loathing of all things different from us. So the descent begins; fear, hate, dehumanize, persecute, imprison, enslave, torture and kill.
Let’s take a look at the Terrorist Watch list, compiled by our illustrious Dept. Of Homeland Terror. They have about one million "terrorists" on it. That’s one in three hundred. Look around. In Alberton, that’s about one and a half terrorists. In the other areas, you do the math. Or to put it another way, there would be three hundred terrorists at a U. Of Nebraska Huskers football game. If memory serves me, the last time we had actual terrorists kill people on campus was at Kent State, when the Ohio Nat. Guard fired on the students, who were peacefully protesting. There is a far greater danger of being killed by a comet or meteor, so better get comet/meteor insurance today. Come to think of it, we are hundreds of times more likely to be killed by a dog than a wolf. Get a dog rider on the policy. Don’t forget that fear makes you stupid.
How’s our well being, as related to the rest of the world? Well, we are ranked forty second from the top in our life expectancy. Thirty fourth in infant survival. We are five percent of the world’s population, but we account for twenty four percent of the people in prisons. We spend more on health care (5,200,000,000/day) and yet have shorter lives than any west European or Nordic country.
There’s lots more food for thought, such as, rising prices, food shortages and starvation in much of the world, corporate thievery, war profiteering and corruption. There are thieves and murderers walking around unpunished. There are cowards from both parties enabling, if not participating, in all this. There’s lots more, I’m calling the Think Tank back to duty soon.
Be fearless and use your cognitive abilities. Stay tuned. dd

hiawatha

The Alberton Papers, Vol. VI, # XIV
By Dick Darne 7-14-08
Bike trip # 2 report. I and my niece, Debbie (a former AHS BB star) my two great nieces and my granddaughter rode the Hiawatha last week. After somewhat of a late start, frantic packing of essentials and tying five bikes on the "Swedish Suburban", we hit the road about noon. I was a little concerned about the girls navigating the tunnel but they took to it like a bunch of bats. Since I towed the trailer with all the goodies and had last pick of the lights, I didn’t do quite as well but looking at the brighter side, I had two hikes, pushing a bike and trailer well over three miles. Everyone enjoyed the trip in spite of the less than stellar administration of the trail. We had purchased return trips on the bus, the last one supposedly leaving the far end at quarter past four. An hour before that, with less than four miles to go, we were hurried along by one of the trail marshals. "Stop reading the signs and hurry along, we don’t want to delay the bus." he said. We hurried. Arriving at the end we came upon a very long line of bikes and riders, seventy eight to be exact. After asking what the capacity of the bus was, (twenty-five), it was apparent that it would take three buses and leaving three riders behind. No apologies from the "hurry up" guy, but a lame explanation of "things happen". In fairness, the other marshals did apologize, and the blame in any account should be directed upwards, the management knew how many tickets were sold, and should have been able to plan accordingly. We had to wait two hours for the third bus, which actually was the first bus because they only had two busses running. Oh yes, I almost forgot, this happened the last time I was here. My parting experience with the trail was more pleasant though. As I was slogging through the tunnel to get to the car, one of the marshals, a young lady whose name escapes me, slowed to my pace and made sure I got through the tunnel safely. This will still be the last time I will pay them any money to ride the Hiawatha. I hope when the Montana portion is opened it will be managed better. Poor Nellie, the Wonder Dog had to sit this one out but she’s speaking to me again. dd

Nellie's ride

The Alberton Papers, Vol. VI, # XIII
By Dick Darne 7-7-08
Special newsflash: Nellie the Wonder Dog finishes her first big bike trip. Nellie and me, along with two more adventurers, Mike Darne and David Roberts, rode down from Lookout Pass to Henderson last Sunday. In keeping with the explorer tradition, just like they did back in the golden years of adventure when hardy souls went out and looked for stuff, we just forged ahead, in spite of danger and hardship.
The danger was mostly the ride to the pass through a typical Montana road maintenance construction area, although we did encounter a moose who obviously was scared away by Nellie. The hardship had it’s seeds in the very beginning of the trip and there are two distinct viewpoints.
"Are you going to download that google map?" I was asked, goes version #1, to which I allegedly replied: "Nah, we don’t need no stinkin’ map, nobody ever saw John Wayne read a map, did they?"
Or version #2: "If you guys’ll wait a minute I’ll download this map." to which the reply was: "Just hurry up, we gotta get on the road."
When we got to the pass, we unloaded the bikes and started the quest. From memory, it seemed that we should take a left and we would be on the old railroad grade. We did so and we were sailing down on an old mostly paved road. It seemed too good to be true. It was. According to my GPS, we had travelled 2.4 miles and dropped 1200 feet in elevation when we encountered the deadest end you could imagine. A fellow camped there confirmed our worst suspicions; we were on the wrong trail, which wouldn’t have happened if I had been allowed to get the map. I tried to tell them but they just wouldn’t listen. Pedaling 1200 feet up in two and a half miles qualifies as a hardship of sorts.
Since their minds were now poisoned against my pathfinding skills, I was outvoted and they went to the ski lodge and got directions and a map. It was a left alright, just a little further down a different road. We were now on the old NP grade which brought us to Saltese, where we had cold drinks and ice cream at the hotel. Nice folks, who gave us more directions, which took us up and across the old trestle and eastbound on the Old Milwaukee. Along about Haugan we encountered a little refreshment stand right on the trail, where they sold the one thing a cyclist really appreciates; snow cones. Nellie appreciated hers, she was starting to flag a little, the temperature at 100 degrees now. Some more helpful directions got us to the other car at Henderson, a shuttle back to the pass, a ride to Alberton and the adventure was over. Other than the opening fiasco, the other problems were minor; loose gravel and ruts required full time and attention to the riding and a washout mandated a short backtrack, which had I put fresh batteries in the GPS I could have noted.
I’ll be doing this again with the goal of mapping out the route and noting obstacles to smooth biking. I’d like to have a route from Alberton to the pass without riding on the Interstate. Like minded cyclists keep in touch. dd