Vox in Deserto Clamantis?

A colleague who joined me two or three years ago on the Board of Commissioners of an academic accreditation body here in the U.S. wrote to me this week  He closed his letter as follows:

"I REALLY miss you on the commission!!"

Here is the relevant part of my reply:

Thank you for those kind words...

I also miss being on the board.  It was an eye-opening experience, not only in convincing me that the Accreditation Council is a very human organization, one with good intentions, but also in reinforcing my sense that American education is in the hands of people who equate self-esteem with awards received rather than with learning and accomplishment achieved.  Whether by a student or by an organization, self-esteem must be earned.  As an accomplishment that justifies a school's self-esteem, Council Accreditation must be earned.  It must never be for sale, and should not come without an organization's serious attention to the intent of, and practical application of the standards and criteria.

Keep the faith, my friend.  There needs always to be an outspoken idealist on the Board to play the role of Jiminy Cricket.  I know you are up to the task.

Duncan C. (for Curmudgeon?) McDougall

A Short E-mail to My Eldest Son

Brian:

Please save this link, and one day, show it to my grandson, Moses.  

I am sure that you will know the right day for it, in the fullness of time.

Love,

Dad

Angel Has Her Wings

"The Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away.  

Blessed be the Name of the Lord." 
 -The Book of Job

It has been reported this Sunday evening that Angel Babcock has died in the Kentucky children's hospital to which she was flown after being discovered in an Indiana field following the tornado that destroyed her home and killed the rest of her family.

Now you are back with your Mom and Dad, sister and brother.  R.I.P., darling child.

Miraculous Survival

Found alive in a field ten miles from home after a tornado?  Angel, indeed. 

Angel Babcock
 (Mail Online News Photo)

I have been moved to tears by this story, and am still in awe.  Here is the newspaper account.

This story was especially poignant for me, as I once played (and still identify with) The Wizard of OZ, and as my Dad grew up in central Indiana.

Giving Back at Williamsport Airport

This is a really nice small-city airport, with a coffee bar but no restaurant, and three TSA agents on the day shift to screen the 28 passengers who fit into the Piedmont Airlines/USAirways Express Canadair Dash-8 turboprop that appears to be the only plane scheduled to fly out of here until seven-something tonight.

Hence, the line at security was short, and the inspection was thorough.  As I went through security, the TSA agent pulled out my new tube of Crest toothpaste, which had come to Williamsport unquestioned in the same carry-on bag, declared it illegally big, and politely asked me to surrender it for immediate and official discarding.  Having no choice, I complied, put my shoes and coat back on, and found a seat in which to await boarding.

This will be my first homeward leg, a 45 minute jump to Philadelphia.  It was scheduled to leave at 12:38 PM, and I was supposed to catch a flight to Manchester with only a 42-minute connection in Philly. 

Then the weather delays started.  The plane will leave at 2:05.  No, fifteen minutes later, it becomes 3:27.  The US Airways agent has, thankfully, already re-booked me to Manchester on a 5:49 flight out of Philly, so I am cool.  Zen-like in my calm.

So, I am sitting here alone.  I reread last night's blog post, and crack up in laughter.  I call my brother Wally, tell him to read that "luncheon post," and he cracks up, which gets me going again, and we share a brotherly punch session.

So, I am the only passenger still inside the secure area.  The others have all gone out to get a bite at the coffee bar, or to visit the rest rooms, etc.  I am happily playing Facebook and blog games.  The TSA agent approaches.

"Sir, are you going to wait here for three hours?"

"Yes," I say, "That is my intention.  Why?"

He replies, "Because we have to stay in here as long as even one passenger is in the area."

I thought about leaving... but instead, I have eaten a Snickers bar for lunch, and kept on bloggin'.

This Luncheon Conversation was a Problem

Just got back to my academic work in Pennsylvania after a delicious lunch at the student-run French restaurant in this technical college I am visiting.  It was a stuffed breast of chicken, with creole sauce and sauteed squash, zucchini, carrots and snow peas.

I confess that I might have enjoyed this gourmet lunch more if my visitation chairman had not chosen lunch time to describe, in graphic detail, his German shepherd's perianal fistula, and then go into further details on the treatment thereof.

Then, our third team member told a story about a computer simulation game wherein kids design amusement park rides.  He said, "Of course, they initially design the wildest roller coasters possible, with the result that the customers exiting the ride vomit all over the pavement. If the kid playing the game has not employed a clean-up crew, then no one else will go near the ride, and the kid loses the game."

Yep, I might have enjoyed that stuffed chicken with creole sauce far more.

Williamsport Whisky

Tonight is my first time in Williamsport, Pennsylvania, home of the Little League Hall of Fame, and of the Little League World Series, which is far mere deserving of that name than is the one in the majors.

Phil's was almost identical, but had its wheel pants removed because we flew it from Plymouth's grass strip. (Photo from Google Images)

But to me, Williamsport is where the O-360 Lycoming engine that powered N7968W ["November Seven Niner Siks Aight Whisky" to you air traffic controllers, Steve!] was built.  Back in the late 1970s, I logged many happy hours behind that reliable 180 HP air-cooled engine in Phil Tapply's Cherokee 180.

The Cherokee in the picture is a close sibling of Phil's bird.  Lycoming Manufacturing Company is still here in Williamsport, but the light plane market is not what it used to be, and I am told the company is much smaller than it was in its heyday.

P.S. Apparently my favorite bird, N7968W is alive and well, and sporting new pants and a fresh coat of paint. Visit http://www.flickr.com/photos/runway27r/3604370111/lightbox/ to see her,