I’ve been on some pretty nerve-wracking paths. But this one makes me laugh nervously, just watching it.
Um, if you’re afraid of heights, probably best not to watch.
I’m particularly fond of the places where the bed of the path has just started to crumble away…
Jim Downey
Thanks, Jerry!
Filed under: Travel
Taking a bit of a break from editing this morning, since I wanted to write about this while the experience is still somewhat fresh.
I mentioned my recent trip to the Lake of the Ozarks, and visiting Ha Ha Tonka once my wife’s AIA obligations were over. That experience, of going someplace I really *should* have known about, was perfectly bookended by another trip earlier that day. While my wife was in her meetings, I drove the few miles from our resort to the nearby town of Lake Ozark. It sits adjacent to Bagnell Dam.
Visiting Bagnell Dam is one of my earliest memories. Somewhere in a box stuck away I have some photos of that vacation – me, a blond smiling boy of about 9, my sister still in diapers, my mom and dad looking like all middle class moms and dads of the mid 60’s. We drove down there in the family Chevy Impala, and I remember my dad grousing about one of the roads we had to take being freshly tarred and gravelled – it left tar spots all along the bottom panels of the white car. This was two years before my dad was killed.
I just remember visiting the dam, and being impressed with the SIZE of the thing. Nothing anywhere could be bigger or more impressive, to my young mind, and I think I judged all other engineering marvels I read about or saw on TV by comparison for years. But I’m sure we must have also spent time there on The Strip – a sort of permanent carnival along the highway to the dam, filled with cheap souvenir shops, go-kart tracks, games, and junk food vendors.
I say that I am sure of this because I remember thinking some four years later that I hated the place. Why is that? Well, because I went there with my mom, her new husband, my sister and my new step-brothers and sisters. At 13 I was much too sophisticated and angsty to be wanting to do such “kid’s stuff.” And I resented going back to this place that I equated with a happier time, just as I resented my step-father and all the changes in my life. I think that was about a month before my mom died in a car accident.
I had gone back to The Strip a couple more times during my adolescence, and maybe even once after. But it had been a good 25 years since I had been that way. It was easy to avoid it – the highway had been re-routed south of the dam, which led to a complete change in the layout and culture of “The Lake.” The place remained popular for vacationers, but came to be better known as the ‘party’ spot for college kids, who preferred bars and nightlife over dodge-cars and Skee Ball.
I had heard that The Strip had fallen on hard times. I wanted to see for myself. This is what I found:
There are still some open shops of the type I remember. But on this grey October morning there was almost no one in any of them. Not too surprising, I suppose.
And again, the thing I noticed most was the dam. Oh, the walls along the highway across the top are now more weathered, the concrete broken and scarred from decades of inattentive drivers. I walked along it for a ways, then back-tracked and went off the side of the highway, to an overlook. One of the original large cast steel turbines from the dam was there, a worn sign explaining what it was and when it was replaced by a new more efficient turbine. The turbine is rusty, of course. And the chain around it is held in place by four mismatched posts. But it was still impressive.
And for a moment – just a brief flash – I was once again 9.
Jim Downey
OK, I don’t actually think I know everything. About anything. Even things I know a lot about.
But every once in a while I find out I don’t know something that I should. Like there’s been a deliberate plot to withhold information about something from me.
Ha Ha Tonka is one such piece of information.
I grew up in Missouri. I was born here, raised here, and have spent most of my life here. And I thought I knew the state reasonably well, even the parts of it that I don’t know. If you know what I mean.
Then, I was in the SCA for a long time. Still have a bunch of friends from that time.
And I have traveled to Europe multiple times, in large part to enjoy the castles and other historic buildings/ruins. All my family, most of my friends know this, and a fair number have even been subjected to slide shows of our trips.
We own property south of Columbia, adjacent to a State Conservation Area, part of which features an interesting geologic area known as a Karst Plain. One of my favorite places on our property is at the edge of a wonderful 300′ cliff, looking down into Three Creeks. There’s an old cabin there, which we use as the backstop for the BBTI tests, and my wife and I would love to build a getaway home there. The whole area has caves, sinkholes, and wonderful exposed rock.
Lastly, I appreciate the eccentric. Particularly people who have slightly mad ideas and dreams.
So, for all these reasons, you’d think I would have heard of a State Park in Missouri with beautiful scenery, 80 acres of Karst formation with caves and sinkholes, stunning views, and the ruins of an honest-to-god stone castle (of the ‘mansion’ variety). But prior to late last week, I had never heard of Ha Ha Tonka.
See, my wife had an AIA thing down at the Lake of the Ozarks this weekend. That was just Friday night, and then Saturday until early afternoon. But since Saturday was also our anniversary, we decided that we’d stay over, find something else in the area to do for a bit of celebration. Now, we’re not the sort to “paint the town red”, so one of the things she suggested to me was a drive a few miles to Ha Ha Tonka.
I had never heard of it. She told me some. I wondered. Racked my brain, trying to think of when I might have heard of it. Nothing. I looked at the websites she sent me. Still didn’t ring any bells at all.
Weird.
But yesterday, after her other obligations were done, we jumped in the car and headed down to Ha Ha Tonka. Here are a couple of images:
As you can see, those are from the ruins. For the full set of images, including some great scenic vistas, check out my Facebook album.
And I still say it’s weird that I never heard about this. It’s like I’ve been abducted by aliens and that part of my memory has been excised.
Uh-oh, now I’ve done it, haven’t I?
Jim Downey
Sorry, in a bit of a mood.
But seriously, I came across this site last night and thought that I would share: Sixty Symbols. From their ‘Project’ page:
Ever been confused by all the letters and squiggles used by scientists?
Hopefully this site will unravel some of those mysteries.
Sixty Symbols is a collection of videos about physics and astronomy presented by experts from The University of Nottingham.
They aren’t lessons or lectures – and this site has never tried to be an online reference book.
The films are just fun chats with men and women who love their subject and know a lot about it!
Chances are, you already know something about many if not most of the different symbols featured. (Hey, if you read my blog you’re clearly above average in terms of intelligence and education, right?) But this is still a fun way to get a little deeper into some of those concepts.
I’m planning on going through each of the videos, about one a day, and posting about it. Not exactly a review of each one, more of a brief synopsis, perhaps with some additional background info thrown in.
The first one on their site is “Eclipse.” Approached through travel to Ningbo, China to observe the total solar eclipse of July 2009. There’s not a lot of explanation of the astronomy involved, but there probably doesn’t need to be. What you do get is the sense of delight of experiencing a total eclipse, even for someone who is a professional in the field. It is such an impressive moment that even understanding the science behind it, the astronomer is almost giddy. I only remember having been through partial eclipses, and that was magical enough – I can easily see how experiencing totality would be a real blast.
So, take the 9 minutes or so, and enjoy “Eclipse”.
Jim Downey
Well, I’m in Salt Lake City.
Yeah, for this thing my wife has going on.
It’s actually been an enjoyable trip, though not without mishaps. We drove over to Loveland CO on Monday (13 hours – thank gods for audio books). Spent the day with friends there on Tuesday, then headed off yesterday morning for the 8+ hour drive to SLC.
And the A/C died just outside of Cheyenne, WY.
I looked, saw the belt had broken. But it did so just as I had turned the A/C on. And we’d had problems with the A/C not being fully functional on Monday.
Made arrangements while on the road for an appointment to get the car looked at in SLC this morning, since we wanted to just get here. This morning I took the car over, while Martha went to rehearsal. After a few minutes, I got the verdict: dead compressor. Not too surprising, given what had happened.
So, I told the guys to fix it. They’ll have it done later today.
Then I walked back to the hotel – about 20 minutes. And I was in a good mood.
Why be in a good mood in reaction to car problems and a $1200 bill?
Well, why not? We’re where we need to be for the time being. The car will be ready for the drive home. I can hang out with the choir on a city tour this afternoon. And it was a pretty day for a walk – which felt good after a couple of days of driving.
All in all, things could be a hell of a lot worse.
Enjoy the day.
Jim Downey
Filed under: Bruce Schneier, Expert systems, movies, NYT, Science Fiction, Society, tech, Terrorism, Travel, Violence
In listening/reading about the Toyota car crashes earlier this year, a thought had occurred to me: if it was a software problem with controlling the brakes or throttle, could that be something which could be used maliciously against the owner of a car? I mean, I could see where it would make an interesting plot point in a mystery – someone gets into the car’s computer system, mucks around, and then a couple of days later the car crashes, killing the driver. But since I don’t write mysteries (though there are elements of that in Communion of Dreams), I let the idea just slip away.
Now it seems that I wasn’t thinking on nearly a large enough scale:
Cars’ Computer Systems Called at Risk to Hackers
Automobiles, which will be increasingly connected to the Internet in the near future, could be vulnerable to hackers just as computers are now, two teams of computer scientists are warning in a paper to be presented next week.
The scientists say that they were able to remotely control braking and other functions, and that the car industry was running the risk of repeating the security mistakes of the PC industry.
“We demonstrate the ability to adversarially control a wide range of automotive functions and completely ignore driver input — including disabling the brakes, selectively braking individual wheels on demand, stopping the engine, and so on,” they wrote in the report, “Experimental Security Analysis of a Modern Automobile.”
Well, it’s too late to enter this year’s Fifth Annual Movie-Plot Threat Contest by Bruce Schneier, but that’d be a great one: terrorists design a computer worm which targets the control systems of cars, and when the worm is activated on a certain date, all the cars will suddenly go out of control on America’s roads, killing thousands and spreading mass panic. Given the level of dependence we have on cars & trucks in the US, this would quickly cripple the economy and destroy the country.
Make a hell of a book or movie, wouldn’t it? It could even be done as a 24 style TV show, where the protagonist has to track down and stop the mad computer genius behind the plot.
Gah. Now I suppose Homeland Security will be paying me a visit for coming up with such an idea . . .
Jim Downey
I am still fighting a stubborn round of lung gak, so forgive the light posting/content here – creative energy is not what it usually is.
But I did just get a dangerous distraction from my good lady wife: seems that Google now has Street View for Wales. For like all of Wales.
Uh-oh.
And to tie it to Communion of Dreams, here’s a nice shot of the road going up to the falls at Pistyll Rhaeadr – referenced by Darnell Sidwell as the place where he was prompted to “wake up.”
Have fun!
Jim Downey
Filed under: BoingBoing, Civil Rights, Daily Kos, Government, Politics, Privacy, Society, Travel
Go ahead: what if this were you, or your four-year old kid?
Did you hear about the Camden cop whose disabled son wasn’t allowed to pass through airport security unless he took off his leg braces?
* * *
Mid-morning on March 19, his parents wheeled his stroller to the TSA security point, a couple of hours before their Southwest Airlines flight was to depart.
The boy’s father broke down the stroller and put it on the conveyor belt as Leona Thomas walked Ryan through the metal detector.
The alarm went off.
The screener told them to take off the boy’s braces.
The Thomases were dumbfounded. “I told them he can’t walk without them on his own,” Bob Thomas said.
“He said, ‘He’ll need to take them off.’ “
You know the rest of the story, no doubt. The screener insisted that the boy’s braces come off (in violation of the TSA’s own guidelines), and the kid walk through the metal detector. Debate ensues, and eventually the boy hobbles through the detector. Parents are ticked off, make a bit of a scene. A supervisor was called, who just walked away when told that the boy’s parents wanted to file a complaint. There’s a bit more of a scene. The local police (this was at the Philadelphia airport) show up, and here’s where things change from the usual story line in these cases. The local police find out the father was a cop, and things get smoothed over enough that the family was allowed to go on with their flight.
But put yourself in that picture, instead. What would have happened to you? What would have happened had things deteriorated to the point where the local cops were called?
Yeah, maybe you shouldn’t have gotten annoyed and insisted that the TSA screeners and then the supervisor treat your child with a little bit of consideration and in accord with their own regulations. And maybe you shouldn’t have threatened to file a complaint. But according to everything else that everyone saw, you did nothing more than this.
Again: what would have happened to you?
If you were *very* lucky, and if you were *very* chagrined when the local police showed up, you would only have been taken to a small room somewhere nearby and hassled, probably missing your flight. Unlucky, or stand your ground, and you likely would wind up being held in jail for at least a few hours to ‘teach you a lesson’, perhaps with some actual charges filed against you. It happens all the time.
Policeman Bob Thomas got cut a little slack. He’s a cop, and I don’t really begrudge him that. And he called a local columnist, who has done a couple of stories on the Philadelphia airport’s TSA nightmares. This prompted the local TSA spokesperson to confirm that the whole incident was poorly handled, TSA rules were not followed, and she said that Thomas had received an apology last week from TSA’s security director at the airport, Bob Ellis. She said that Ellis provided Thomas with the name of the agency’s customer service representative, should he have a problem in the future.
Good. I’m glad that this got the attention of the press.
But imagine if it were you.
Jim Downey
(Via BB. Cross posted to dKos.)
I decided not to do formal ‘travelogues’ for my recent trip out to Las Vegas for the SHOT Show, but instead do a series of small vignettes, over the course of the next couple of weeks.
Jim D.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Suites at the Venetian start out at “Luxury” and get more indulgent from there. The smallest is about 2/3 the size of my whole house in grad school, and the largest is bigger than our house now.
Note, I said “indulgent” – not “useful” or even particularly nice. What do I mean? Well, there were three flat-screen televisions in the room: one in the ‘living room’ area, one facing the bed, and even a small one in the corner of the bathroom. But the alarm clock face was scratched up so bad it was barely readable in the dark, the controls were confusing and marginally functional, and the radio didn’t work at all. The big picture window that looked out on the Venetian’s outdoor pool had a blind and curtains which were remotely controlled, but there wasn’t an in-room coffeemaker. The sectional couch in my room was stained and missing most of the upholstery buttons, and the one in my friend’s room was mis-matched bits from several couches that used covering material from different dye lots. I could go on.
At first glance, or on the Venetian website, the rooms look sumptuous. And they probably were when they were first built or when they are periodically rehabbed. But when you see it in person, it’s just a bit grim and superficial.
But I suppose it does what it is intended to do. Gives you the false impression of luxury while at the same time pushes you to go out the door and down into the casino/shoppes for coffee or comfort.
* * * * * * *
The whole time I wandered through the casinos, looking at the plethora of games and flashing lights I was completely ignored by the wait-staff. Completely. No looks, no smiles, nothing. I was a non-entity. It didn’t matter what time of day or night it was, or which casino I was in. I was invisible.
But the one morning, when sipping my coffee, that I stepped up to a $5 slot machine and stuck a bill into it – without even sitting down in front of the machine – I instantly became visible. Between the time I fed the machine my $10 bill and the few seconds later when I pushed the “play” button there was a nice woman with a cocktail tray standing there asking me if I wanted anything. It was rather amazing – it was like she had teleported next to me.
I thanked her, said no. She left.
I sipped my coffee. Pushed the “play” button again. Got my little adrenaline hit as a reward. Then turned and started slowly walking out of the casino, just looking at the machines. But before I left the little cluster of $5 slots, another woman appeared, wanting to know whether I needed some more coffee. I guess I looked like I might put some more money into a slot.
* * * * * * *
We walked down Las Vegas Blvd (‘The Strip’), just seeing the sights. It was brutal.
No, not the crowds. I can deal with crowds.
Nor the loud music pouring out of the various open doors. I went to enough concerts when I was a kid to be more or less immune to the appeal of bad sound systems.
The glitz and flashing lights was a bit hard on the eyes, and I worried that before we walked the couple of miles they would trigger a migraine. But I put on a ballcap (no, not the one I got here – never wear a local brand when you’re not a local – it marks you as a sucker) and kept my gaze lowered to street level.
No, the thing that got me were the long lines of touts for the prostitutes.
Seriously, there were places where you had to walk through a gauntlet of them, dozens long. Short, cold illegal immigrants slapping their little photo cards in that universal style of attention-getting I have seen in London, Buenos Aires, New York and elsewhere. Images of large-breasted woman of every variety, some paired up with a friend, on cheap card stock that littered the ground. In places the cards were so thick as to make it slick to walk, usually just past these touts.
Brutal. For everyone concerned.
* * * * * * *
Now, it isn’t particularly insightful or clever to observe that Las Vegas is little more than a pleasant facade over a money vacuum, an artificial construct with the sole intent of relieving tourists of their money. In fact, it’s a cliche.
So, why bother?
Well, because it was all so obvious. Las Vegas laughs at any attempt to expose the reality. It brazenly and openly says “yeah, this is all just a ruse to milk the rubes. What’s your point?”
You almost have to admire that level of mercenary behaviour.
Jim Downey
I decided not to do formal ‘travelogues’ for my recent trip out to Las Vegas for the SHOT Show, but instead do a series of small vignettes, over the course of the next couple of weeks.
Jim D.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It rained.
It rained more in four days than it rained for all of 2009.
And of course, I was there for it.
* * * * * * *
Well, it’s a good thing that you basically don’t have to go outside when in Vegas. Ever. And that the rain doesn’t present problems for such festivities as taking a gondola ride at the Venetian. Like the Miss America Pageant contestants did.
And I was there for it.
No, seriously. And it was seriously weird.
Me, Jim K, and John E were having some top-notch pizza and a couple of beers at Postrio there in the strangeness that is St. Mark’s Square. When all of a sudden there was some pomp & circumstance happening around us. Of the sort that involves scant clothing on plastic women and men wearing tuxes. One of my dining companions mentioned that he thought the Miss America Pageant was being held the next week, and this must be some kind of preliminary event.
It was. The line of women wandered through the ‘outdoor’ restaurant, just a couple of paces from our table.
I looked up, saw what was going on, then turned my attention back to the pizza. At least that was real.
* * * * * * *
Did you know that there is a Star Trek slot machine game?
And a Star Wars one?
Also ones for Indiana Jones, the Wizard of Oz, and dozens of television shows?
I didn’t. I thought slot machines were all those classic things with just three spinning wheels that contain numbers or symbols.
What a rube from flyover country.
But one morning before I left, I dutifully went over to one machine, donated a $10 bill to it, and played twice.
Oh, sure, I could have gotten a thousand plays at a “penny machine”.
But two hits from that adrenaline pump were quite enough, thank you.
* * * * * * *
My traveling companion needed to get some additional cash the morning we left.
The ATM there on the floor of the casino just gave $100.00 bills.
Tells you all you need to know about the casino business.
Jim Downey
Communion Of Dreams 