Saturday, July 17, 2010

ON BEING 73: PART 2


HOW MUCH THE WORLD HAS CHANGED and how much more will it change?

Older folk go on from time to time about the "good old days". I am not sure that such have ever existed but it is interesting to reflect on how the world was when one was young. My first four years were spent on our small farm in the Mid-North of South Australia. This dry-farming country just north of the Clare Valley (now famous for its wines) and about 100 miles north of the state capitol, Adelaide. The Depression was about over and the Second World War about to begin.

Apart from a few well-off, long established farmers, I suspect we were somewhat poor. Grain prices were down and cash flow was ever a problem. I think we ran about 20 cows that my father hand milked. Each evening, he separated the cream, using a hand operated separator. I loved to wathch his steady rhythm as a steady flow of rich cream appeared in the collector. From this, my mother churned butter to be sold at the Clare market for cash. We had no electric power so used kerosene lamps at night. A party-line telephone and a battery-powered radio kept is in touch with the world. My father had been widowed in 1933 and married my mother the following year. Tragically, their first child died, drowning in a close-by creek during harvest at just 18 months age. Even so, I am sure they recalled "good old days".

Once war broke out, manpower shortages forced my father to close up the farm. We moved into Clare and he rejoined the Army. We now had electric power but had no telephone. Wartime meant shortages and strict rationing of almost every thing. There were national programs to recover scrap of almost every sort. The unemployment endemic prior to the war came to an end through military service or work in factories devoted to producing war material. Shortages and rationing continued into the early 1950s.

Despite the wartime conditions, I had an almost idyllic childhood. Prior to teenage years, this was spent in the county or the natural settings of Adelaides. In those days, there was little or no pollution of streams and we could swim, fish, and frolic in the river, dammed up in the city area to form a lake, and riding our bikes or hiking.

Relative to life in the US, Australia was somewhat 'backward'. Having marched into war for the sake of King and 'Empire', we were mightily glad for the role US forces played in the defense of Australia. The population of Australia was about one quarter of the current level of 26 million. The national government established the 'Snowy River Scheme'', requiring American engineering expertise from the TVA and large numbers of migrants from Europe. The economy began to improve though few of us had any such notion as "the economy".

This was the beginning of boom times in both countries, particularly the US. Amongst the many explanations for this is a relatively clear and simple account offered by Jeff Rubin in his recent book, 'Why Your World Is About To Get A Whole Lot Smaller'. He posits that the post war boom was enabled by cheap and plentiful oil. This continued up to the OPEC embargo of the early 1970s. He shows that cheap oil relates to the boom-bust business cycle. When demand is less, cheap oil acts to stimulate the economy. More oil is used to drive the improving economy so it then rises in price. In turn, this slows business and brings on the next recession.

It was simpler when the developed nations were the main consumers and the large oil companies owned the major oil fields. Now the large fields have been taken over by oil producing nations and economies like China and India are developing a middle class bent on owning motorcars just like the rest of us. A third factor is that oil producing countries are increasingly reserving oil for their domestic consumption. Finally, oil is getting harder to find, extract, and bring to market. BP's woes with deep sea drilling underscore this problem. Deep sea supplies were expected to make up 12% of new supplies. Safe retrieval of deep sea oil will now mean more expensive crude.

So much for the "good old days"; what of my next 20 years (and yours)?

Transport uses 70% of fossil fuels consumed. We private car owners consume 50% of that. Experience has shown that, as fuel cost rise, we travel less, the bottom limit being set by our need to commute and drive other essential miles. We also plan our miles more carefully. More fuel can be allocated to business transport, like trucking and rail transport. As these industries confront rising fuel costs, more goods are transported the cheapest way, by train and by water (yes, traffic on the Erie Canal increased 300% when fuel was over $4 per gallon!). The goods transported by the more expensive modes will rise in price, especially food and most especially food provided by the large agricultural companies.

We will show great innovation about how to use less gas and oil. How long will be our period of adjustment to a lower standard of living (as defined by the use of motor transport)? If you look to Europe and $7 per gallon gasoline, there will be a lot of Chrysler/Fiat 500s, three door super-mini hatchbacks, and scooters.

What I fret about, as I consider possible futures, is the rising cost of energy and how this will slow economic recovery. Almost everything we dig out of the ground, even coal and the oil from Alberta's oil sands, is done by machines using oil. When oil was triple digit dollars, mining companies began to close down mines. Since the economy runs on energy, where will the required energy come from?

According to some pundits, it will take 20 years to bring alternate energy sources to significant levels and the same period to replace sufficient gas guzzler cars with really economic or electric vehicles. As for the latter, imagine the extra load charging up all those electric cars will put on the grid...a grid that threatens to collapse with too many air-conditioners are on in the summer. A more taxing question is from what energy source will the necessary power be generated.

I hope that human ingenuity will come into force. A recent article,
tells how the Empire State Building management is spending $13 million to replace 6,514 windows with remade, energy efficient windows. The power saving will be 38% making possible recovery of the outlay in just over three years! Using cars less, using more efficient cars, and conserving energy looks like the way to go, nobody disagrees.

The problem is with price; while energy is relatively cheap, most of us do little to conserve. It might be hard to extricate ourselves from a looming nightmare dilemma if we all wait until price forces us to conserve. But what is new?

Saturday, July 3, 2010

ON 73

ON BEING 73
I had written an earlier post ('Painted into a Corner') prompted by the huge oil spill off the Louisiana coast but decided it was a little too boring. Since most of you seem interested in the personal side of my journey through life and now that I am getting accustomed to the age of 73, why not a note on what this is like for me.

First, a knee update. On the whole, going pretty well. However, as would not surprise some of you, I took too much advantage of this and got out my road-bike, the faithful Trek 2120. After giving it a good cleaning and tune up, off we went. Regarding my legs going up and down as I pedaled slowly and steadily, I noticed that relative to the top frame tube, the left knee now passed much closer than the right. This is due to the realignment of the joint so that it is less bow-legged, I thought to myself. All went well on the ride and a day or two later I ventured a little further. Horror!!! The next day the knee was so sore on the outside that I could barely walk. This was also the day of a visit to my physical therapist so I had to confess to overdoing things. His comment: not unusual to have a flare up like this. With a new set of exercises to stretch the offended connective tissue, lots of Ibuprofen for several days, regular ice packs, and the knee is gradually improving. When will I ever learn not to overdo things? At 73, I had better get with the program!

Ah yes, the next knee job will be on July 21, so I am about to go through it all again.

I write this on the eve of American Independence Day so the date, American fashion, is 7/3...another 73. I am rather partial to prime numbers, as 73 happens to be, and so are a bunch of mathematicians. Apparently, every whole number is either a prime number or made up from two primes. Since there are an infinite number of whole numbers, it follows that the number of primes is also infinite. However, it is difficult to predict or generate primes. My next prime age will be 79, the age at which my paternal grandfather died. On a street car, in Adelaide, and I am not sure if he had paid his fare. How many primes have I left to me to enjoy? My mother lived to 102, so maybe I have a few more.

Even at 73, first experiences are possible. Some good things have happened already. For example, just last week, as I was walking around the block as a warm up for my home physical therapy exercises, I heard a steady, loud, hammering sound. Looking up to where the sound appeared to be originating, I spied a large, black, handsome bird crowned with a red comb banging his beak against a tree. My first glimpse of a pileated woodpecker; widespread across the norther part of the country but not often seen; here it is:
Indeed, a handsome bird, but my recall is that the beak was somewhat more pronounced. At any rate, he could really pound that tree! And big, at about 18 inches or 45 cm long.

Another first happened the other night. After a couple of days of really sultry weather, a severe thunderstorm alert, prompted me to go out to see if it was coming. My eyes were attracted downward to the lawn where there were hundreds of winking, bright pinpoints of white light...fireflies!!! Amazing. So far as I am aware, we do not have fireflies in Australia (but perhaps in caves) and I had not seen any in the Northwest. The next day, the barrista in the coffee shop told me that the folks down South, such as in Georgia, catch them and place them in jars to light the night, releasing them the next day.

Perhaps the secret of living, to a degree, is the art of 'finding firsts'; at the least, they certainly stir the blood. I think I may have a few ahead. Some of you know that I plan to return to Australia later this year to resume residence there. Yes, on September 18, I board the United Flight from San Francisco to return to the land of my birth, ending some 15 years of residence in the US. With good friends and family still here, of course, I will return from time to time. In the Gospels, Jesus remarked that it is 'easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter the Kingdom of God'. He was referring to the necessity, once the main gate of a walled city was closed at night, of bending low to pass through the 'eye gate'...quite a tight squeeze! So it will be for me; my possessions will have been reduced to what will fit into two suitcases. With less than what I had when I left in February of 1995, I will re-enter my home land.

In many ways, I expect this to be the beginning of a new life. To stay with the biblical metaphors, I will be 'born again', enduring the narrow passage of birth and stripped of all but a few possessions just as Jesus said, 'Except one is born again, one cannot see the kingdom of God'.
Jesus was referencing a universal law of the journey: to go somewhere, one must first accept the discipline of the way to be taken.

What will I do and where will I live in the land that awaits my discovery?

And what is this like for me? Quite exciting; I am minded of the words that Tennyson put into the mouth of Ulysses:
I cannot rest from travel,
I will drink life to the lees...
...
For always roaming with a hungry heart
Much have I seen and known...
...
I am part of all that I have met,
Yet all experience is an arch wherethro'
Gleams that far untravell'd world, whose margin fades
For ever and forever when I move.
How dull it is to pause, to make an end,
To rust unburnished, not to shine in use!
As tho' to breath were Life! Life piled on life
Were all to little, and of one to me
Little remains: but every hour is saved
From that eternal silence, something more,
A bringer of new things...
...
And this gray spirit, yearning in desire
To follow knowledge like a sinking star,
Beyond the utmost bound of human thought.

Ah well, a tall order; but why not give it shot?