Are The Great Lakes fisheries doomed?

Asian carp have been making their way north up the Mississippi for more than a dozen years and those in charge are still formulating plans to protect The Great Lakes.

It is time to erect a barrier between the Des Plaines River and the Chicago Sanitary and Ship Canal (CSSC) to stop flood water from carrying Asian carp into the CSSC. A quickly constructed sandbag barrier would be a start.

Connections between the Illinois & Michigan Canal and the CSSC should be closed. And until the waters are known clear of Asian carp, the locks leading into Lake Michigan should be closed and remain closed until it is certain that the electrified fish barrier actually works.

The time for proactive talk has long past and it is time for good old fashion action.

I have written an opinion piece for the Digital Journal on this imminent threat to the health of the valuable Great Lakes fisheries.
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Photo credit: U.S. Fish & Wildlife Service

Library Magic

Years ago I covered a small, local magic show. The magician called a woman to the stage and, while we all watched, he had her carefully inspect three large, separate, silver rings. After thoroughly checking each ring, one after the other, the woman assured the audience the rings were solid; There were no gaps.

The woman went back to her seat and the magician proceeded to quickly link and unlink the rings.  At one point he swung the three rings, clearly firmly linked, above his head. He even engaged in a tug-of-war with a person in the front row. The rings could not be separated.

With everyone convinced the rings were now solidly linked, he pulled one free and tossed it offstage. He pulled the remaining two rings apart and held them high in the air, one in his left hand the other other in his right. He tossed the rings offstage to loud and enthusiastic applause.

Later, I had a chance to slip backstage where I saw the magician's open suitcase sitting with the three rings in clear view. I checked the rings. One had a large gap. The magician had tricked the woman into looking over one solid ring twice.

The trick's explanation was simple and obvious. It just took a lot of skill and experience to pull it off.

Which brings me to librarians: Years ago, when the paper at which I worked still had a proper library, I needed some information concerning an accident picture shot years earlier. I went to the library expecting that maybe, if I was lucky, they would have something on micro fiche.

I dropped off my request with the library staff and left. Minutes later one of the librarians stopped by the photo department. She had a copy of the published story, complete with published picture and she also had the original photographic print of the accident. The print still bore the blue crayon cropping marks left by an editor.

This was magic. A random image of a rather small news event and the library seemingly pulled it from thin air. I thought it seemed a nigh impossible feat. They couldn't possibly file nearly every image that appeared in the paper, could they? They would need an immense room in the basement and an absolutely mind-boggling filing system. Well, they had both. These librarians were good.

When I left the paper, I followed the path blazed by the librarians. Deemed redundant, computers could handle their jobs, they were all let go. Oh, some of the library operation was kept but not in-house; those library functions were moved to Toronto.

Sadly, the magic left the system with the exit of the librarians.

If an editor needed a picture of the London skyline, one published within the past year, and searched using "London", the editor immediately realized that almost every picture in the system has London in the cutline. If they added skyline to their search, they got a few hits but they might not find the recent image they needed.

With no librarians filing images, there were no consistent keywords being attached to the pictures. The shots were being tracked by whatever lines the photographer attached at the time the image was placed in the system. A skyline picture at sunset could be filed as London buildings at dusk or a red sky glows over London's downtown.

Out with all the skilled staff, out with the need for experience, out with all the highly paid jobs: My guess is that Quebecor believes one out of three ain't bad. Eliminating jobs is always a fine, profitable move. It seems Three Dog Night set the bar too high.

I wonder if a newsroom in China has librarians?

Photo by: Kevin Van Lierop © Creative Commons

The Not Geek Dinner

"Maybe dork would be a better word?"

I posted a little piece on London Daily Photo on the recent once-a-month Geek dinner held here in London, Ontario.

There are hundreds of daily photo sites, if not thousands, around the world and the Geek dinner evening is a perfect event to post to these forums.

In my post, I took mild umbrage at the use of the word "geek". I checked its meaning, and yes it was in my Canadian Oxford Dictionary, and the word did not describe the people at the dinner. It wasn't even close.

I received a humorous comment suggesting that maybe dork would be a better word. I laughed and read the comment to my wife who agreed but for the weirdest of reasons: when she was a teen, the kids with whom she hung-out twisted dork into a compliment.

These teens claimed, and possibly believed, that dork was a shortening of the name Dorcas, a woman in the Bible famous for her acts of kindness. A dressmaker, she made clothes for the poor in her village of Joppa.

Dorcas was a real “doer.” If she had an idea, she acted upon it. Not a wealthy woman herself, Dorcas gave not money but she gave of herself. If she thought of a way to help the needy, she immediately carried out her plan. She knew what she could do and she did it. She made clothes for widows, both young and old, for their children and for all in need in her community.

Greatly loved and respected, she busied herself with her good deeds. She did not strive to be an admired leader; She was not driven by ego. Still, in the end, she did become a leader in philanthropic causes.

When she died, the grief-stricken people of Joppa sent word to the Apostle Peter who was visiting a neighbouring town. When Peter arrived, he found Dorcas laid out for her funeral. Surrounding her were coats and other garments that she had made and freely given away over the years.

Peter looked around and saw the aged widows whose hands were too feeble to sew and too poor to pay others for their work; He saw the younger widows accompanied by children clothed by Dorcas.

Peter, his emotions touched, sent all from the room and then knelt down and prayed. God answered his prayers and Dorcas arose from the dead.

Since then, women throughout history have formed “Dorcas Societies”, holding to humanitarian ideals and engaging in various relief activities.

I don't believe these ladies, so influenced by the example set by Dorcas, were ever called Dorcs or Dorks. I think these teens were wrong. One might even say that they were being dorks but I won't.

There is a type of gazelle today called the dorcas gazelle. It seems, "Dorcas" is a female name of Greek origins, meaning "gazelle".

I like to think that these teens bounded lightly away, gazelle-like, escaping the taint of a nasty insult.

Infectious Art

The Jones New York women's fashions factory outlet is closing. Come January it will be gone. Like so many of the stores in the mall at the intersection of Wellington and Exeter Roads, it soon will be empty.

My wife and I stopped by there the other day. Retired, we seek out bargains and the Jones store was filled with them. Marked down women's wear, marked down again.

My wife tried on this and that and bought more this and that than I would have liked. I felt we couldn't afford it; We're retired. She felt we couldn't miss the bargains; We're retired. Ah, the same shade of grey but it looks different to each of us.

While my wife shopped, I took pictures. Surrounded by beautiful fabrics and clean light, I took out my little camera and set to work.

The staff watched, obviously curious. I got down on my knees for one pictures and stretched out over a round rack of dresses for another. I held my little camera up, down and rotated it diagonally.

Unable to keep their silence, they asked me politely what I was doing. I told them and I showed them the pictures on the camera-back monitor.

"Oh." They understood.

Now art was in the air. It filled the store and the staff was infected. "Have you looked outside?" A couple of the sales clerks were really getting into this and they had discovered their own art moment. "Those clouds won't last," they told me.

I slipped out the door into the parking lot. They were right.

The only constant in life is change.

For sharing family photos, Facebook is good but I find it cluttered. I share images quickly by including them in blog posts. The picture of Fiona at the end of this post was downloaded within minutes of hitting the Net.

But the speed at which we share stuff today is not today's story. Today we look at milestones and the changes I've noticed in Fiona. I checked the Internet and discovered . . .

Motor skills: At first Fiona was a "Wobbly Head." But little ones are exercise crazy and all that vigorous stretching and kicking quickly pays dividends.  At three months she holds her head high, her Wobbly Head days are behind her.

Vision: Most newborns focus best on objects about 12 inches away, or the distance to mom's face during a feeding. But by age three months, according to the experts, Fiona is ready for art. The experts agree that Fiona is ready to appreciate more complex stuff, like intricate, geometric Navajo designs in rich earth-tones. Her preference for a big, beautiful red painting done by a friend in Montreal is real. I am not imagining things. (Whew!)

Hearing: Even newborns respond to loud noises; They blink, act startled, even frown. But today Fiona responds with noticeable discernment. She smiles — a relaxed, contented smile — especially whenever mom or dad are speaking.

Communication: At three months communication skills are definitely non-verbal but they are present nevertheless. There is a new tone to her cries, the coos. One best pay attention or soon the tone will take a nasty turn and Fiona will get downright insistent: "Now, listen up!"

When pleased the little queen will measure out a smile and if bored she will entertain herself by blowing bubbles. Waving hands and wiggling feet can be quite captivating. If you are going to hold Fiona's attention you've got to prove yourself a more interesting companion than her ten toes. This is not as easy as it sounds.

(This makes me think of a picture — a close-up of her little lips, so perfectly formed, pursed, puckered and blowing bubbles. Could be beautiful.)

Which brings me back to our walks down the hall. The experts say simple conversation, and mine can be as simple as they come, lays the groundwork for language development. Describing sights, smells and sounds around the house is good. Fiona may not understand a word but she is sensitive and picks up stuff from just the tone of your voice. (I've actually used a firm tone to ask her to stop crying and she has stopped. I immediately headed for the hallway to view the art on the walls and to reward her for good conduct.)

Which brings us to the flip-side of all this. Babies reach developmental milestones at different ages, but by three months one should consult the baby's doctor if any of the following red flags are flying:

• No improvement in head control
• No attempts to lift the head when lying facedown
• Extreme floppiness
• Lack of response to sounds or visual cues, such as loud noises or bright lights
• Inability to focus on a caregiver's eyes
• Poor weight gain

 Like I said, Fiona has passed some important milestones.

Update: Fiona at 21-months

Milestones are still being reached and passed. "You go, girl!"

Fiona soon to be three - months!

For those who are waiting patiently to see Fiona and daddy John. Here is a post just for you.

Fiona has passed a milestone; She is no longer a newborn baby. She is now simply a baby. She now is holding her head up, checking out her surroundings. So far everything seems to have passed inspection.

Judy calls her a pothead as she is quite taken with the stainless steel pots hanging from the ceiling above our kitchen counter.

I think of her as more of an art buff; She quiets right down when I stroll around our home and discuss the art with the obviously intensely interested little girl cradled in my arms. She is especially interested in the various sculptures that sit on our livingroom mantle.

Cheers,
Rockinon

You're more powerful than you think.

Note: the video has been changed. I was told that my first was like a feel-good e-mail message. That was enough for me; I changed the video immediately. I removed the cheese.
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What we do in life is important. We've all heard of the "Butterfly Effect." If conditions are right, small actions have big effects. 

Your actions reverberate in the world much longer than you would ever imagine. You truly are more powerful than you think.

This post and the video were inspired by a passage in the book The Year of Living Biblically by A.J. Jacobs. Troubled by the unfairness of the biblical injunction that wicked acts by the fathers will be visited upon the children to the third and fourth generation, Jacobs, after much thought, arrived at a generous interpretation, and came to appreciate the passage with his new insight.

As a young boy I, too, was troubled by the unfairness of this Biblical passage. My mother had an interpretation which was in agreement with Jacobs. Years later I chatted with a minister who would go on to become a bishop and he confirmed my mother's interpretation.

Our actions influence others. A father's bad actions set a bad example not just for his children but  for generations to come. Set a bad example and your children and your children's children may very well suffer. 

But why stop with fathers?


Cheers, 
Rockinon.