The Annual Mother’s Day Panic: A Survival Guide (with a Hint of Sanity)

Posted on May 8, 2025 by The Narrator

Mother’s Day. That glorious Sunday where we collectively try to repay a lifetime of scraped knees, questionable fashion advice (remember those neon windbreakers?) and the unwavering belief that we are, in fact, capable of emptying the dishwasher correctly. The pressure is on, folks. The floral industry is salivating. The brunch reservations are tighter than Uncle Bob’s jeans after Thanksgiving. And we, the well-meaning but often clueless offspring, are once again staring blankly at the internet prompt, muttering, “What does she even want?”

Let’s be honest, the go-to gifts can feel a little predictable. Another scented candle? Will that really convey the depth of your gratitude for the time she patiently explained the difference between “there”, “their” and “they’re” for the 87th time? (Spoiler alert: probably not.)

This year, let’s aim for something a little more thoughtful, a little less “I panicked at the mall last minute.” But also, let’s keep it real. We’re busy. We’re probably still recovering from filing our taxes. And let’s face it, sometimes a really nice candle is appreciated (as long as it doesn’t smell like “Mothball Renaissance”).

So, ditch the generic gift guide and let’s brainstorm with a touch of humor and a sprinkle of genuine affection. Here are a few categories to ponder, keeping in mind the ultimate goal: making Mom feel seen, appreciated and maybe even chuckle a little.

The “Finally, Someone Gets It” Gift:

  • The Gift of Time (and Silence): This is priceless. Offer to tackle a chore she loathes. Weed the garden. Clean the gutters. Organize the Tupperware abyss. Bonus points if you do it without complaining or needing constant supervision. The sound of blissful silence emanating from her favorite armchair might be the greatest gift of all.
  • The “Tech Support That Doesn’t End in Tears” Package: If your mom’s relationship with technology is complicated, offer your services. Patiently explain how to work the new streaming service. Set up that digital photo frame. Just promise to breathe deeply and avoid phrases like “it’s so simple!” You established your electronics dominance thirty years ago setting the time on the VCR. You can do it again.
  • The “Escape the Chaos” Voucher: If her life is a beautiful, messy whirlwind (often thanks to us), consider a gift certificate for a massage, a quiet afternoon with an infinite coffee refill at a bookstore or even just a guaranteed hour of uninterrupted reading time with a “Do Not Disturb” sign you’ve personally crafted (with glitter, if you’re feeling ambitious).

The “Remember That One Time?” Gift:

  • The Nostalgia Bomb: Dig through those old photographs and create a personalized photo album or scrapbook. Include funny captions and inside jokes. This shows you’ve put in effort and cherish those shared memories (especially the embarrassing ones).
  • The Recreated Disaster (in a Good Way): Remember that time you accidentally dyed the cat blue? Okay, maybe don’t recreate that. But perhaps you could try to recreate her favorite childhood recipe or revisit a place that holds special significance for your family. The effort and the shared memory will be the real gift.

The “Practical, but Make It Cute” Gift:

  • The Upgraded Everyday: Think about something Mom uses regularly, but could use a nicer version of. A luxurious hand cream, a beautiful reusable water bottle, a cozy throw blanket that doesn’t have mysterious stains from the dog.
  • The Subscription Box Tailored to Her Quirks: Whether she’s a tea aficionado, a gardening guru or obsessed with artisanal cheese (that’s still a thing), there’s a subscription box for that. It’s the gift that keeps on giving (and reminds her of you each month).

The “Let’s Do Something Together (But You Don’t Have to Clean Up)” Gift:

  • The Shared Experience: Plan an outing you can both enjoy. A picnic in the park (bonus points if you pack it!), a visit to a local art fair, a cooking class you take together (just promise you’ll handle the post-apocalyptic dishwashing).

Ultimately, the best Mother’s Day gift isn’t about the price tag or the trendiness. It’s about showing your mom that you know her, you appreciate her and you’ve put some genuine thought into making her feel special. So, take a deep breath, resist the urge to just grab the nearest bath bomb and consider what would truly bring a smile to her face (and maybe earn you a few extra points in the “favorite child” rankings – no judgment here). Happy Mother’s Day to all the wonderful moms out there! You deserve all the good things (and maybe just a little bit of peace and quiet).

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May the Culture be With You: The Cultural Significance of Star Wars

Posted on May 4, 2025 by The Narrator

For those blissfully unaware, May the Fourth is upon us. It’s the one day a year where we collectively agree to pepper our conversations with terrible puns and rewatch a saga that, let’s be honest, has more plot holes than the Death Star’s exhaust port.

But why? Why this enduring obsession? Is it the epic battles? The cool spaceships? The undeniable charisma of a smuggler who looks like he just rolled out of bed? Sure, those things are great. But the cultural significance of Star Wars runs deeper than a Wookiee’s growl.

The answer is simple. It’s the ultimate family drama, just with more explosions. Forget your Thanksgiving squabbles. Try dealing with finding out your dad is the galaxy’s most evil Sith Lord. Luke Skywalker’s journey is basically a highly dramatized version of every teenager’s angst, amplified by the power of the Force. It’s relatable. And then there’s the moral simplicity, which is frankly a relief in our overly complex world. And let’s not forget the iconic characters who are basically walking embodiments of our own inner struggles. They’re flawed and they’re relatable.

Let’s be honest: Star Wars is less of a movie franchise and more of a second religion, one with lightsabers, space wizards and far more merchandise than any world faith should legally allow. You don’t watch Star Wars. You inherit it. It’s passed down from generation to generation like Grandma’s lasagna recipe or Uncle Bob’s conspiracy theories.

Sure, George Lucas set out in 1977 to tell a simple tale of good versus evil in a galaxy far, far away, but what he accidentally did was break the time-space continuum. One moment you’re watching Luke whine about power converters, the next you’re standing in line for a sixth sequel, explaining to your confused date why “Han shot first” is an ethical hill worth dying on.

Star Wars is cultural glue. It’s the one place where boomers, millennials, Gen Z and whatever TikTok-dancing generation comes next can all gather, argue about midichlorians, and feel superior to people who only watch the movies. Yes, there’s a difference between Clone Wars and The Clone Wars.

But perhaps the most significant cultural impact is Star Wars’ ability to unite geeks of all ages and persuasions. From the hardcore lore fanatics who can debate the intricacies of the Old Republic for hours to the casual fans who just enjoy the pew-pew lasers, Star Wars provides a shared language and a common ground. It’s the intergalactic equivalent of discussing the weather, only way more intense.

Consider its impact:

  • Linguistics: Phrases like “the Force”, “dark side”, “I am your father”, “do or do not, there is no try” and “these are not the droids you’re looking for” are now part of our daily vocabulary. If someone waves their hand while saying the last one, they either love Star Wars or are trying to avoid doing their job.
  • Fashion: Jedi robes. Wookiee fur. Princess Leia buns. Darth Vader chic. Star Wars has turned Comic-Con into a runway show for nerds, and I say that with a certain level of affection, because a lot of the Star Wars nerds I know are doctors and lawyers and rocket scientists.
  • Politics: Every time a politician says “empire”, half the room hears the Imperial March in their head. Filibusters would be more tolerable if a senator had to debate Yoda-style: “To veto this bill, I must.”  Although, let’s be real, most people sound like they’re having a stroke when they try to talk like Yoda.
  • Technology: Every new gadget gets compared to Star Wars. Roombas are baby droids. Alexa is C-3PO’s cousin who just wants to sell you light bulbs. And let’s not even start on Elon Musk’s SpaceX unless you have three hours and a drink in hand.

And now, Star Wars has holidays. May the Fourth (be with you), Revenge of the Fifth, and for overachievers, Return of the Sixth. We’ve turned an entire week into a pun-based celebration of a fictional universe, which is either a testament to human creativity or a cry for help.

From cosplay to fan fiction, Star Wars has unleashed a creative force that’s hard to contain. In the end, Star Wars isn’t just entertainment. It’s a lifestyle, a bonding ritual, a pop-cultural lodestar for people who believe that laser swords are the most logical weapon in hand-to-hand combat. And while we may never agree on whether the sequels should exist, we can all unite under one simple truth: Jar Jar Binks was a mistake.

Love it or hate it, the franchise has permeated our pop culture landscape like a Wookiee’s furry coat.

The Star Wars movement.

The Star Wars movement.

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A Scene at the Intersection: Thoughts on Free Speech in America

Posted on May 2, 2025 by The Narrator

These days, saying anything remotely political feels like tiptoeing through a minefield while wearing clown shoes. The act of simply acknowledging a political event — any political event — seems enough to draw cheers from one side and pitchforks from the other. So, while writing this, I do so with no agenda, no endorsements, and a healthy respect for my fellow Americans, regardless of where they fall on the ideological spectrum. My aim is to focus on something that unites rather than divides.

President Donald Trump recently marked his 100th day in office. Depending on which media outlet you favor (or avoid) his approval ratings fall somewhere between 39% and 44%. Some say that’s a historic low for a modern president at this milestone, others say it’s an irrelevant number. But frankly, that’s not the story I want to tell.  The story is about the reaction.

Yesterday, while out on an errand that had nothing to do with politics, I stumbled upon a political protest in a residential neighborhood. It stretched across an entire city block, mostly centered around a busy intersection. There were over a hundred people gathered, brandishing hand-made signs and chanting messages into the open air. Some were passionate, others cheerful, and a few just seemed happy to be part of something bigger than themselves.

Rush hour traffic surged past the crowd. Some drivers honked in support, others perhaps out of frustration. (It’s often hard to tell the difference — a honk is not exactly a nuanced form of communication.) Amid the noise and motion, one car ran into another’s bumper, prompting a half-hearted exchange of insurance information while protest chants carried on in the background.

Curious, I stepped over to a police officer watching the scene and asked, “What do you think?” He barely looked away from the crowd and answered simply: “People have the right to a peaceful protest.”

And that, really, is the heart of the matter.

That right, to stand in a public place and make your voice heard, is not something everyone in the world enjoys. In some countries, a gathering like that would be broken up with tear gas or armored vehicles. In others, protesters might vanish overnight or face long prison sentences for holding up cardboard signs with words the government doesn’t like.

But here, in the United States, whether you lean left, right, center or identify as politically allergic, you have the right to speak up. You have the right to peacefully disagree. To rally. To hold signs. To honk your horn (within reason). You even have the right to ignore it all and go fishing. That’s part of what makes America, and more importantly its constitution, something truly special.

We may argue over policies, personalities and polls. We may roll our eyes at the news or shout at our TV screens. But we can do these things freely, without fear of retribution. And while that may seem like a given, it’s actually a rare and hard-earned privilege, a gift safeguarded by generations before us and preserved, ideally, through mutual respect and civic engagement.

So next time you see a protest, or better yet, participate in one, take a moment to appreciate not just the cause, but the freedom that allows it. Agree or disagree, the ability to speak, march and assemble peacefully is not just a right. It’s a cornerstone of what it means to live in a democratic society.

And as for the officer I spoke with? He didn’t seem fazed by the signs, the slogans or the sea of motion in front of him. He just stood there, a quiet sentinel, making sure that the protest remained peaceful, not because he agreed or disagreed, but because it’s his job to protect that freedom.

The officer’s words reminded me of the importance of peaceful protest. In a world where tensions can run high, it’s crucial that we prioritize dialogue, understanding and nonviolent expression. By doing so, we create a space for constructive debate, where differing opinions can be shared and respected. The ability to engage in open discourse, even when that discourse is contentious, is a cornerstone of our civic life. It is a right that should be both cherished and exercised responsibly.

And that, I think, is something we can all salute.

 

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May Day: An American Original and the Spirit of the Working Class

Posted on May 1, 2025 by The Narrator

When most people hear the words “May Day”, they might picture red flags, clenched fists and parades marching through Red Square in Moscow. It’s often painted in broad strokes as a Communist holiday — an international celebration of socialism and the proletariat working class. But peel back the layers and you’ll uncover a surprising truth: May Day is as American as apple pie and its origins are deeply rooted in American history. Let’s take a step back and explore the fascinating tale of how May Day came to be and the breaking of chains forged by the robber barons of the industrial revolution.

Let’s turn the calendar back to 1886, to the smoke-filled skies of Chicago, Illinois, in the heart of the Industrial Revolution. It was an era of steam and steel, of long shifts and short paychecks. It was also the era when a brave group of men and women decided that enough was enough.

May 1st, 1886, marked the start of a nationwide strike across the United States, a unified demand for something we take for granted today, an eight-hour workday. That weekend Chicago’s Haymarket Square became ground zero for this movement. The demonstration began peacefully, a gathering of workers and their families standing in solidarity for a better life, better working conditions and a shorter workday.

But on May 4th, a tragedy unfolded. As police moved to disperse the rally, a bomb was thrown, by whom, we still don’t know, and chaos erupted. In the blast and gunfire that followed, seven police officers and at least four civilians lost their lives. Many more were injured. The tragedy became known as the Haymarket Massacre. Despite the tragic events, the Haymarket Massacre marked a turning point in the fight for workers’ rights and May Day was born.

May 1st became a rallying cry for workers’ rights not just in America, but around the globe. Other nations saw the bravery of the American labor movement and adopted the day as their own, using it to honor the working class and advocate for better conditions.

But then came geopolitics. The rallying cry for improved working conditions spread across continents, but as May Day gained traction in other countries, particularly in the newly formed Soviet Union, its association with Marxist socialism created a dilemma for capitalist America. The Cold War cast a long shadow and embracing a holiday so deeply embraced by communism felt like a betrayal of American values.

In post-WWII America, where the Red Scare had taken hold, anything associated with communism became suspect, including May Day. In 1947, the Veterans of Foreign Wars proposed Loyalty Day, a counter-celebration to honor American values and reject communist influence. The U.S. government embraced the idea and Labor Day in September became the “official” workers’ holiday.

Here’s the kicker: the United States invented May Day. It was born not from the writings of Marx, but from the grit and determination of American factory workers demanding humane hours and decent pay. The irony is rich and perhaps a little tragic. The nation that birthed the movement for the eight-hour workday became hesitant to fully embrace its symbolic date.

But maybe we’ve been looking at this all wrong.

The truth is, no matter what day we mark on the calendar, the spirit of May Day is alive and well in every American who clocks in, rolls up their sleeves and gets to work.

It’s the spirit of ingenuity, the “elbow grease and good old fashioned know-how”, that has propelled this nation to the forefront of industrialized nations. From the assembly lines of Detroit to the tech hubs of Silicon Valley, from the farms of the Midwest to the fishing fleets of the coasts, the American worker has always been the engine of our progress.

It’s in the farmers who rise before the sun. It’s in the nurses pulling double shifts. It’s in the welders, the truckers, the small business owners, the tech workers solving problems on the fly, and the first responders who tirelessly answer the call in the middle of the night.

This country was built on calloused hands and untiring dedication. The American worker is not a relic of the past. They are our engine. They are our edge. They are our heartbeat.

Whether you celebrate on May 1st, on Labor Day or every day in between, let’s take a moment to honor the enduring brilliance of American ingenuity and the everyday heroes who keep our world running.

So here’s to the common man and woman, the uncommon heroes of the American dream. They may not always get the spotlight, but without them, there is no show.

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A Leader for the People: A Reflection on Pope Francis and the Power of Servant Leadership

Posted on April 22, 2025 by The Narrator

I should begin by saying that I’m not Catholic. Religion doesn’t define my day-to-day life, nor do I wear faith as a banner. But there is room for belief in something greater, in goodness, in compassion and I think that matters. I think it matters now more than ever.

As news of Pope Francis’s passing spread, I felt a deep sense of loss, despite not being Catholic myself. His unwavering commitment to serving others, particularly those often overlooked, resonated deeply with me. In a world where self-interest and grandstanding often dominate, Pope Francis stood out as a beacon of humility and compassion, a rare quality that’s becoming harder and harder to find: he genuinely cared.

He cared about people, not in a vague, obligatory sense, but in a very real and deeply human way. He gravitated toward the marginalized, the forgotten, the underrepresented. He didn’t need a photo op or a press release to validate his actions. He didn’t perform good deeds for applause. He led with humility and heart.

His example reminds me of something I read many years ago, an essay written by Robert Greenleaf about a concept he called “Servant Leadership”. In a world obsessed with power, influence and ladder-climbing, this philosophy stands in sharp contrast. Servant leaders don’t charge ahead for personal gain. They lift others up. They don’t hoard authority. They share it. They foster trust, collaboration and innovation and they measure success not in what they achieve for themselves, but in how they improve the lives of others.

It’s an idea that’s always resonated with me, especially in my work with search and rescue. In SAR, we don’t have room for egos. We don’t succeed because of individual heroics. Our wins are collective, not individual. We’ve pulled Olympians and astronauts off of mountain slopes, not because we’re tougher or braver than they are, but because we function as a cohesive unit. We succeed together. Or we don’t succeed at all. Many years ago a friend asked me how we do what we do and in a moment of inspiration, I answered that the team is greater as a whole than simply the sum of its parts.

The world is increasingly complicated, often harsh and far too divided. It’s tempting to throw up our hands and retreat into our own self-contained corners, but servant leadership, the kind Pope Francis so naturally embodied, calls us back to the center. It says: Be kind. Be humble. Serve others. Do good when no one is watching. These aren’t grand slogans. They’re quiet, daily choices.

What made Pope Francis so unique was that he didn’t just preach these ideals. He lived them. He didn’t focus on building empires or consolidating power. Instead, he worked to elevate others, to create equity where there was once imbalance, to ensure that even the least of us felt seen. He understood that society only thrives when no one is left behind.

And in a world that often treats fairness like a finite resource, where giving to one is seen as taking from another, he challenged that notion. He gave with open hands. He shared with an open heart.

So yes, I mourn today. Not just for the man the Catholic community called their Pope, but for the humble, powerful presence the world has now lost. His remarkable life and leadership have left an indelible mark on the world. He was a rare soul, a servant first, a leader second. And that’s exactly the kind of leadership we need more of, not less.

May his legacy continue to remind us that greatness lies not in how high we climb, but in how many we bring with us.

Pope Francis, from the Vatican City website.

Pope Francis, from the Vatican City website.

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Technologically Impaired

Posted on April 17, 2025 by The Narrator

Gravity, Still Undefeated

I wrote yesterday about my phone’s interaction with gravity on April 6.  Gravity is a harsh mistress.  Unyielding, unforgiving, likely the inspiration for Murphy and his single documented law.

What I thought was going to be a fast recovery was actually a festering wound, but it came without withdrawal pains and for that I am grateful.

 

Ancient History

We didn’t use to be technology dependent.  Even as late as when I was in college, I would leave my dorm or apartment and go to class and spend the day on campus without being reachable by phone.  We had these things called answering machines and the expectation was that if you left me a message, you’d get a callback, usually within 24 hours, without it being considered a snub.  That was normal.  I imagine that the iGen, having been born with a smartphone in their collective hands, have no idea what living without a phone means.  It’s actually not that bad.  You get to look up and not wonder what’s causing neck pain, you get to talk to people face to face, you can read a read book, with paper pages, you can go outside and experience sunlight (or moonlight) and fresh air.

But it’s critical to remember that in 2025 our smartphones aren’t just for calls anymore. They’re our lifelines, our maps, our cameras, our notepads, our GPS devices, our entertainment hubs, our social media connections and that’s like a serious drug addiction.  Current generations are being bred to be helpless without their phones.  Eye contact is a primal confrontation.

Teen social groups.

Teen social groups.

The Shopping Experience

Returning home late that Sunday night, I got on my computer and discovered that my 13 month old phone is the best technology last year had to offer and is no longer commercially available.  It does have a souped-up sibling that’s a year younger and Best Buy had a rock star sale on it, 40% off!

I really did not want to have to buy a brand new phone, but the universe conspired against me and my only path forward was to pull out my credit card.  Even at 40% off, my wallet let out a small, mournful whimper.

First thing Monday morning I drove to my neighborhood BestBuy and was greeted by a pale young man who looked like he hadn’t seen natural light since the pandemic started, whose primary source of Vitamin D and the Vampiric pale tan are courtesy of the OLED display, wearing heavy glasses and surrounded by the unmistakable iGen aura. I gave him the printout and a hopeful smile.

The young man got the phone I wanted and rang up the full price.  I pointed to the price on the printout.  I didn’t get the printout for the price, but for the model number, optional features and the non-offensive color that would make me happy.

“That was a special yesterday,” he said.  “We can’t honor it today.”

Seriously?  You advertised the special well after the store closed yesterday, with no intention of honoring it?  He graciously escalated my concern to his manager and I got the same answer back – I should have come in yesterday, even though I was still attached to a cliff face as the store was closing.

I did look up the phone on Amazon as I waited for the answer and they had the same 40% off deal.  Amazing!  Best Buy says they price match.  I was ready and asked about it when I was turned down on their sale price.  Turns out that price match is more of a guideline than a rule.  I was turned down on that as well.

Okay.  We’re talking hundreds of dollars here.  I wouldn’t flinch if it was twenty bucks or even fifty, but hundreds?  I’m perfectly willing to go to Amazon for that.  I’ll get it in a day with Amazon Prime, right?  May two days if they have to fly it across the country through storms and political turmoil and tariffs.  If I had to break my phone, right now was the best time, right before the massive tariffs kicked in.

The good news was that I got the awesome price, but the bad news was that like Best Buy’s price match and Corning’s Gorilla Glass promise, Amazon Prime’s shipping timeframe operates on a sliding scale of optimism, more of a guideline than a rule. I ordered Monday.  They did not ship until Thursday and the phone clearly went “Turtle Express” premium shipping, making it to me on Tuesday.

Turtle Express

Turtle Express

Amish Paradise – Trust Physics, Question Everything Else

So given nine days with a smartphone that only responds to synaptic touch on its own schedule, how does life look in retrospect?  I’ll be honest, there are things that I missed, like the luxury of checking my e-mail on the go or responding to a text or trying to settle the spontaneous debate of whether armadillo armor is stronger than Corning Gorilla Glass, but I’m also not a Facebook fan or a Twitter guy (or Instagram and TikTok, which the members iGen are glued to).  I did not even feel like I was squeezing in that extra bike ride or sacrificing by picking up a book.  I enjoyed those things.  Not having to respond to every ding of a phone felt good at some primal level.

My saga of shattered screens and phantom discounts should serve as a cautionary tale. The universe operates on physics, not marketing slogans. And sales? Well, they’re often more of an elaborate dance than a genuine act of generosity. Proceed with skepticism and maybe invest in some extra-strength bubble wrap.

It’s important to remember that life does not require a signal from a cell tower.  It’s okay to disconnect and enjoy the outdoors.  If life hands you a cracked screen, take the hint: look up, unplug and maybe go touch some grass (just don’t drop your phone on it).

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“Shatterproof”, My Glass!

Posted on April 16, 2025 by The Narrator

When Gorilla Glass Meets the Rock of Reality

Cracked screen protector. It doesn't look that bad. It was designed to take a blow.

Cracked screen protector. It doesn’t look that bad. It was designed to take a blow.

It was a day like any other, if your “any other” involves crawling through tight spaces in service of search and rescue. (Yes, that again. It’s kind of my thing.)

On April 6, in the middle of a mission, my phone decided it was tired of being held, loved and kept safe in a warm pocket. It yearned for freedom. For flight. For a rock.

It slipped of my cargo pants pocket out during a crawl through a crevice. One moment I was focused on the mission, the next? Clink. My 196 gram technological marvel of a phone, outfitted with Corning Gorilla Glass 3, and wearing a proud 9H tempered glass screen protector, like armor, fell about twenty-five centimeters – or less than a pound falling less than a foot, if you rely on the Imperial Standard.  (I will reminisce in a future blog about living on the Imperial Standard, when the rest of the world went metric.)

The phone landed face-down on a rock.  We can refer to this event as modern electronics playing chicken with gravity.  There was a single winner.

 

Let’s do the Math, Shall We?

For the physics lovers out there (you know who you are), here’s the gritty calculation:

  • Velocity at impact:
    v = sqrt(2gh) = sqrt(2 * 9.81 m/s² * 0.25 m) ≈ 2.21 m/s
  • Impact force, assuming a 1 millimeter stop distance (thickness of the screen protector):
    F = (0.5 * m * v²) / d = (0.5 * 0.196 kg * (2.21 m/s)²) / 0.001 m ≈ 479 N

That comes out to about 49 kilograms of force (about 108 pounds), focused on a single point, my phone.
Should Gorilla Glass 3 survive that? Corning says: Yes, even from a one meter drop!
Reality says: Maybe not.

 

Gorilla Glass or Chimpanzee Shards?

The real damage to the phone's tough Gorilla Glass 3 front.

The real damage to the phone’s tough Gorilla Glass 3 front.

Now, I get it. “Shatterproof” doesn’t mean “invincible”, but this is where marketing magic meets the cold, hard rock of reality. When a screen protector rated at 9H (on the Mohs hardness scale) disintegrates like a sugar cookie in a sauna, I expect the actual Gorilla Glass to at least survive with some dignity.

Instead, when I peeled off the remains of my screen protector, it revealed a glorious spiderweb starburst on the screen itself. Not just a scratch. Not a crack. A whole constellation. I spotted Aries and a bit of Pisces and that fuzzy edge of the Milky Way that you see when you look through the telescope.

That 49 kilograms of force went right through the impenetrable screen protector with what was precision blow through damage and the remnants were happily absorbed by the phone’s third generation Gorilla Glass facade.  The gorilla folded right there.

 

A Lesson in Expectations

Statistically, this should not have happened. Physically, the numbers barely justify the damage. Emotionally? I felt betrayed by a very expensive Gorilla Glass primate.

Thankfully, in the wild, phones aren’t life-or-death tools. Radios do the job when the nearest Starbucks is three mountain ranges away, but back in the world of civilization (when Uber Eats won’t deliver to the forest), our smartphones have become our everything.

Tomorrow, I’ll blog about how much we rely on our phones and my adventures replacing mine, but for today, let this be a cautionary tale: “Shatterproof” is a marketing term, not a physics guarantee.

So if you drop your phone and it lands face-down on something less forgiving than a marshmallow, maybe say a little prayer to the forces of microfractures and prepare your wallet for sadness.

Even rough and tumble gorillas have bad days.  Stay safe out there and maybe invest in a little bubble wrap.

 

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Crossing the Edge

Posted on April 13, 2025 by The Narrator

In addition to my day job, I also volunteer on search and rescue.  Generally, that means I don’t sleep during the day or during the night, but chronic insomnia aside, search and rescue can be very demanding (and rewarding) when it comes to skills and those skills must be practiced and refreshed all the time.  This weekend, like most weekends, my team held a training session, this one for vertical skills.

When it comes to vertical rescue, one of the most deceptively challenging and undeniably critical skills is edge transition. It sounds simple enough: getting a rescuer (and eventually a patient) safely over the edge of a cliff, building or ravine. But for those of us who volunteer our time on search and rescue teams, edge transition is less about simplicity and more about precision, control and a healthy respect for gravity.

Edge transition is that crucial moment where rope meets reality and your body shifts from standing on solid ground to hanging on rope, or vice versa. It’s the moment the laws of physics introduce themselves with authority and your gear, your anchor systems and your team better be squared away, because there is zero margin for error.

Volunteer search and rescue teams often face challenging environments and vertical rescues are among the most complex and hazardous operations. Teams may be called out in the middle of the night, in rain or snow, on unfamiliar terrain and with limited personnel.

We don’t get to pick the mission. We train in our free time, we pay for our own gear and we practice as often as life lets us. But when it’s real, it’s real — cold weather, jagged rock, loose gravel, wind howling through your helmet vents type of real.

 

Why Edge Transitions are so Tricky

Training on the edge.

Training on the edge.

Edge transition refers to the process of transitioning a patient or team member from a vertical environment, such as a cliff face or a building, to a horizontal environment, such as the top of said cliff face of building. This transition requires careful planning, precise communication and skilled execution to ensure the safety of both the patient and the rescue team.

If you’re wondering exactly where the challenge is, anchor a rope to your sofa and run it across your dining room table, then try to climb up on the table without touching the floor. That candy bowl or flower vase will do absolutely nothing to aid you in getting you from being under the table to being on top of it.  Let’s break it down:

  • Abrupt Terrain: The edge is rarely smooth. It’s a jumble of jagged rock, cactus, roots, scree or slippery mud. Sometimes it’s just unconsolidated compressed rock and dirt, making things really dicey.  Stability is laughable.  We get called because the conditions are bad. No one needs to be rescued from a safe environment.
  • Limited Visibility: In many cases, the area beyond the edge is obscured by vegetation or darkness, making it difficult to assess the terrain and plan the transition. In fact, most of the time you don’t even know about the vegetation, because it’s obscured by the darkness below, giving you and opportunity to rappel into a massive tree or a thicket you need a chainsaw to get through.
  • Rope Angles: You’re lucky to find an anchor for the rope that’s decently placed. That’s not how things go normally. Most of the time your rope ends up being vectored away from where you need to be. And the rope tends to rub right at the edge. Without edge protection (and sometimes even with it), there’s wear and tear and additional risk to manage.
  • Communication challenges: Effective communication is crucial during edge transition, but the ambient noise, wind and other environmental factors can make it difficult for team members to communicate clearly. Communications failures are the greatest cause of accidents.
  • Patient Factors: Eventually, we’re not just sending down rescuers, we’re bringing up a patient. In a perfect world it’s just one, not a mass casualty incident. The patient might be panicked, injured or unconscious and sometimes they weigh more than any two rescuers on the mission. Edge transition for a litter team is a ballet of brute strength, coordination and forced calm.
  • Exposure: Once a rescuer commits to an edge transition, they are exposed to the risk of falling or being pulled off the edge by the weight of the victim. It becomes a game of numbers. How strong is the rope? Can the anchor withstand the forces we put on it? Any angle, redirect and knot add to the complexity, compromising safety.
  • Mental Game: Let’s face it, going over the edge is psychological. Even with triple-checked gear and redundant systems, the human brain still shouts, “THIS IS A BAD IDEA!”, especially when you’re fighting the elements thrown at you by nature.  Mother nature is not forgiving and you know that when going over the edge.

 

Safety Systems and Teamwork

Edge transitions are not solo events. Every rescuer over the edge has a team behind them, managing belays, tending lines, calling commands. High directionals like a TerrAdaptor or a Vortex or even a simple A-frame might be used to angle the rope away from the edge and reduce friction. Edge tenders, the rescuers on rope beneath the edge, keep an eye on the line and the patient’s team, making sure nothing snags or twists. Communication is everything.

Even then, Murphy’s Law loves an edge. A sudden gust of wind, a dislodged rock, a miscommunication, all can turn routine into chaos. That’s why search and rescue teams drill edge transitions over and over. In snow. In heat. In places no sane person would hang from willingly.

 

Volunteer SAR: Passion, Not Pay

Let’s not forget, we are volunteers. Teachers, plumbers, accountants, IT techs, students, retired military, all united by a desire to help and often willing to dangle from cliffs at 3:00 AM because someone else’s life depends on it.

And when that edge transition goes right, when a rescuer slides down smoothly, when the ropes hum with tension and the team clicks like gears in a watch, it’s poetry. It’s controlled risk, made beautiful through teamwork, skill and courage.

 

Final Thoughts

Edge transitions are where search and rescue meets science, psychology and sometimes just plain stubbornness. For the teams that do this work, mastering this moment isn’t optional. It’s survival. It’s service. And it’s something we train for not because it’s easy, but because the alternative is unthinkable.

So the next time you see a rescue on the news, remember, somewhere just out of frame, there’s a volunteer hanging off a rope, trusting a team, conquering the edge.  The vast majority of search and rescue in the United States is a vigilant effort by unpaid volunteers.

Are you curious about search and rescue?  Visit the National Association for Search and Rescue and Google for a team in your area.

Conquering the edge.

Conquering the edge.

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Tariffs and the Tightrope: How Small Businesses Are Struggling to Stay Afloat

Posted on April 11, 2025 by The Narrator

I had lunch this week with a friend who’s been running a retail store for over two decades.

Two decades. That’s a big deal in any industry, but especially in retail, where the landscape changes as often as the seasons and where every new economic policy can feel like a fresh storm rolling in.

Like so many conversations these days, ours drifted to the subject of tariffs. Not surprising. He’s weathered countless storms – economic downturns, shifting consumer trends and the rise of online shopping, but now he’s facing a new threat: tariffs. When a 145% tariff on goods from China is looming overhead, small business owners don’t have the luxury of ignoring it. They’re not running billion-dollar enterprises with layers of legal protection and resource rich logistics departments. They’re placing their own bets, with their own money, on what’s going to be in demand, what’s going to ship on time and what people can actually afford to buy.

“It’s like a slow-motion death by a thousand cuts,” he lamented. “Many of the products I carry are made in China and these 145% tariffs? That’s not just a price hike, it’s a price explosion.”

He explained that if an item previously cost $10 to import, the tariff now adds $14.50 to the cost. This isn’t just a number on a spreadsheet. It’s real-world impact. “Consumers are already feeling the pinch,” he said, “and discretionary spending is taking a hit. Who’s going to pay three times as much for a t-shirt?”

The problem isn’t just the immediate cost increase. It’s the uncertainty. With tariffs fluctuating like a yo-yo, it’s impossible to plan for the future. “I can’t order inventory with any confidence,” he told me. “Will the tariff be raised again tomorrow? Will it be lifted entirely next week? It’s a gamble and it’s a gamble I can’t afford to lose.”

 

The Weight of Survival

Statistics paint a grim picture for small business longevity:

  • About one-third of all new businesses fail within three years.
  • Roughly half don’t make it past five.
  • Three out of four are gone by year ten.

So surviving twenty years? That’s not luck. That’s hard-earned, nose-to-the-grindstone endurance. It’s knowing your customer base, adapting to market changes and keeping your costs in check without sacrificing too much margin. But what happens when the rules of the game change so drastically, it’s like starting over?

 

The Triple Threat: Tariffs, Costs, and Customers

My friend’s store, like many, relies on products that are made in whole or in part in China. That’s not because he’s trying to save a few cents. It’s because, in many industries, China is the only source. It’s where manufacturing has gravitated for decades, offering scale, infrastructure and cost-effectiveness that’s hard to replicate elsewhere.

But with a 145% tariff, an item that used to cost $10 now costs over $24.50, before licensing and shipping and handling, before building in a profit. And by the time it’s on the shelf, it may be retailing at $40 or more, easily quadrupling the original price.

That math doesn’t just hurt the store owner. It hurts the customer. And when customers are already stretched thin, deciding whether to pay rent or to fill their gas tank or buy groceries, the idea of spending extra money on anything that isn’t essential becomes a non-starter.

Tariffs don’t just shift economics, they shift behavior. They make people pause before buying. They make businesses pause before ordering. And they make the future feel uncertain, even for the most seasoned of shopkeepers.

 

Can’t We Just Manufacture It Here?

It’s a fair question: if tariffs are so bad, why not just manufacture more things in the United States?

“Bringing manufacturing back to the U.S. is a dream, but it’s not a realistic overnight solution,” my friend explained. “Building factories, training workers and establishing reliable supply chains takes time and immense investment. And even then, can we compete with the established manufacturing powerhouses overseas?”

The short answer is that we can’t flip a switch.  There is no switch.

A longer answer is that rebuilding domestic manufacturing for many product categories means years of investment in machinery, in training, in supply chains. Even if a business could afford to pay triple to have something made stateside, the infrastructure does not even exist yet. We gave that up years ago when offshoring was the economic trend.

And let’s not forget that costs in the U.S. are higher. Not just labor, but energy, materials, real estate and regulatory compliance. For industries that run on razor-thin margins, this isn’t just a patriotic challenge. It’s a financial impossibility.

 

The Squeeze is Real

Tariffs don’t just hit goods. They hit confidence. They shake the sense of control that small business owners work so hard to maintain. And when your business is your livelihood, your identity and your future all rolled into one, those shocks hit deep.

We’re seeing more small retailers quietly shuttering their shops, not because they mismanaged their business, but because they were priced out of the market by policy. Others are hanging on, hoping things will stabilize before they run out of money or steam.

 

A Final Word

Small businesses are the soul of local economies. They’re the corner shops, the quirky boutiques, the family-owned stores that remember your name and what you bought last Christmas. They adapt. They innovate. But even the most agile among them can only bend so far before they break.

As the tariff war escalates, let’s not forget that it’s not just numbers on a spreadsheet. It’s people. Business owners. Employees. Communities. And unless we create space for them to adapt, we may lose a whole generation of entrepreneurs to something they had no say in, because when the cost of doing business becomes higher than the reward, the only sensible decision may be to close the doors and that’s a loss for all of us.

Small business - the backbone of America

Small business – the backbone of America

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The Dire Wolf’s Return

Posted on April 9, 2025 by The Narrator

If you’ve watched Game of Thrones, you probably picture dire wolves as majestic, massive canine companions with a supernatural sense of loyalty.  As much as this version of the dire wolf is compelling, real dire wolves (Aenocyon dirus) don’t quite live up to HBO’s fantasy version.  They were, however, incredible creatures in their own right and thanks to advances in genetic technology, we are getting an opportunity to witness their return from extinction.  Yes, science has delivered on what fantasy only promised: a second chance for a species long gone.

 

What Was the Dire Wolf?

The dire wolf roamed North and South America during the Pleistocene Epoch, about 250,000 to 10,000 years ago.  Despite their name and pop-culture fame, they weren’t fantasy beasts.  They were real flesh-and-blood predators, roughly the size of today’s largest gray wolves, but much stockier and with powerful bone-crunching jaws.

Let’s clear something up: the dire wolf wasn’t just a beefed-up version of the modern gray wolf.  In fact, recent genetic studies have shown that dire wolves were not particularly close relatives of gray wolves at all.  They diverged from a common ancestor more than five million years ago, placing them on a different evolutionary branch entirely.  Think of them as a sibling species that went to a different high school and got really deep into athletics.  Dire wolves are distinct from their gray wolf cousins, despite sharing 99.5% of their DNA.

 

What Killed the Dire Wolf?

Blame the Ice Age afterparty, what is known as the Quaternary extinction event.  As the Pleistocene ended, the climate warmed, the glaciers melted and the megafauna buffet closed down.  Dire wolves specialized in hunting large prey like mammoths, giant ground sloths, mastodons and prehistoric bison.  When those big game targets started disappearing, likely due to a combination of climate change and pressure from early human hunters, the dire wolf found itself outcompeted by more adaptable predators like the gray wolf and the coyote.  Unlike their adaptable cousins, dire wolves couldn’t pivot to new food sources quickly enough.  Evolution’s version of “adapt or die” proved literal.

 

What’s in a Name?

You might assume the term “dire wolf” came from ancient legend or some Old Norse prophecy.  In reality, it was more of a Victorian flair for the dramatic.  The Greek and Latin hybrid name Aenocyon dirus translates loosely to “terrible wolf”, reflecting its fearsome reputation as an apex predator.  (I will discuss the lack of sanctity in mixing Greek and Latin roots in a later blog.)

Discovered primarily through fossil finds in the La Brea Tar Pits in California, the dire wolf earned its name thanks to its fearsome skeletal structure — big teeth, big bones, big bite.  This thing didn’t chase rabbits.  It was the apex predator of its time.  If you saw one, you were definitely not the apex.  In fact, you were probably the target of one.

 

Fact vs. Fantasy

Despite what television has told you, dire wolves weren’t house-trainable war companions or oversized snow puppies.  They didn’t tower over humans and they couldn’t be summoned with a whistle and a dramatic musical cue.  They were wild animals, powerful, social and, like modern wolves, probably ran in packs.  But they weren’t magical.

Still, there’s something magical about the idea of bringing back an animal that has not set foot on our world in over ten millennia.

 

Why Bring Back the Dire Wolf?

The de-extinction movement — think CRISPR, gene editing, cloning — is gaining momentum and while the woolly mammoth often steals the spotlight, the dire wolf is a compelling candidate, easily within science’s reach.  Its ecological niche was unique.  Unlike modern wolves, it didn’t interbreed with coyotes or dogs, meaning its genetic line ended cleanly with no watered-down descendants lingering today.

The dire wolf’s de-extinction raises questions about our responsibility to restore lost species and ecosystems.  While there are concerns about disrupting modern ecosystems, this breakthrough also offers hope for reversing biodiversity loss.

Reintroducing the dire wolf could offer valuable insights into ecosystems, predator-prey dynamics and even human history.  Plus, the process of de-extinction itself forces us to grapple with complex ethical questions: Should we bring back extinct species?  What responsibilities come with that?  What habitats do we return them to and who gets to decide?  But as we welcome the dire wolf’s return, we must consider the implications of playing with nature.  Can we truly bring back an extinct species or are we creating hybrids that will fail to thrive in a modern world?  The answer lies in ongoing research and debate.

There’s also a certain poetic justice in restoring a creature humans may have helped drive to extinction.  It’s like reopening a chapter in a book we thought was finished and maybe rewriting the ending.

However, there are also some potential risks associated with de-extinction.  For example, it is possible that resurrected species long gone could introduce new diseases or compete with existing species for resources?  Additionally, it is important to consider the ethical implications of bringing back an extinct species.  Can it fit in with the modern world?  Is there a niche an extinct species could safely occupy?

 

A Howl into the Future

The dire wolf wasn’t myth, magic or a CGI creation.  It was a real predator that walked the Americas for hundreds of thousands of years.  Its extinction marked the end of a distinct evolutionary path, one that we might now be able to explore once more.

So yes, the dire wolf is rising again, not from the crypts of Winterfell, but from the labs of molecular biologists.  And while we might not ride them into battle, understanding them could help us better understand extinction, ecosystems and our own role in the natural world.

After all, science doesn’t always have to be dry.  Sometimes, it howls. 🐺

Colossal Biosciences dire wolves

Dire wolves, courtesy of Colossal Biosciences.

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