Tales of Many Things

Reflections on National Search and Rescue Week

Posted on 2025-05-19 by The Narrator

In 2010, the U.S. Senate designated the week leading up to Memorial Day weekend as National Search and Rescue Week. It’s a time meant to honor and recognize the tireless, often invisible work of search and rescue professionals and volunteers across the country. From deep wilderness recoveries to urban searches, search and rescue teams quietly and skillfully step in when lives hang in the balance.

For many, the image of search and rescue might conjure dramatic helicopter footage or news reports of daring wilderness rescues. While these scenarios certainly exist, the reality is often more grounded, more arduous and relies heavily on the tireless efforts of everyday citizens who volunteer their time, skills and often their own resources.

This year, National Search and Rescue Week (May 16 through May 22) hit with particular resonance for my team, because instead of slowing down to reflect, we found ourselves in the thick of back-to-back missions that reminded us exactly why we do what we do.

Our first callout was for a missing fourth grader who hadn’t come home from school. What began as a localized search quickly turned into an eighteen-hour, multi-agency operation spanning over a dozen square miles in the urban and urban-wilderness interface, a landscape far more challenging to navigate than one might imagine. Mutual aid came in from neighboring counties. Law enforcement coordinated logistics. Search and rescue volunteers, many of whom had just finished a full day’s work, stayed on their feet for over thirty hours straight. The end result? A successful find and one very relieved family.

After a couple hours of sleep and a fresh cup of coffee (maybe two), the second call came in: tornadoes. Three of them. Touching down in the rural reaches of our county, they tore through fields, homes and small communities. Our mission shifted from search to damage assessment. We rolled out alongside fire departments and emergency management crews, working systematically to identify hazardous areas and determine where we were needed most. This time, thanks to effective reverse-911 systems and emergency preparedness, no lives were lost. A small mercy.

These kinds of weeks are exhausting, humbling and rewarding and why search and rescue volunteers exist. We don’t do it for recognition or accolades. We do it because someone has to. Because when the unthinkable happens, someone has to show up, whether it’s 2 AM, raining sideways or 105 degrees in the shade.

The importance of volunteer search and rescue cannot be overstated. We provide a critical lifeline in situations where time is of the essence and specialized skills are required. We augment the capabilities of paid emergency services, often possessing unique expertise in areas like wilderness navigation, tracking, technical rescue and search management. Our local knowledge and community ties are invaluable assets in understanding the terrain and the potential whereabouts of those missing.

The dedication is immense. Volunteers invest countless hours in training, maintaining equipment and responding to missions, often at personal cost. The emotional toll can be significant, bearing witness to human vulnerability and the anxieties of those in crisis. Yet, we continue to answer the call, driven by a profound sense of responsibility and the immense satisfaction of a successful rescue.

But that doesn’t mean we don’t appreciate the designation of National Search and Rescue Week. It’s a moment to pause (if we’re lucky), maybe fire up the grill and enjoy some quiet time with our families, who sacrifice along with us. It’s a chance to reflect on missions past, prepare for missions ahead and most importantly, urge others to be prepared.

If you’d like to honor search and rescue volunteers this week, here’s the best way:

Let someone know where you’re going when you head out.
Take the ten essentials on every outdoor trip.
Keep your phone charged, with offline maps downloaded.
Respect weather forecasts and trail warnings.
And if you ever do need help, stay put and stay calm. We’ll come find you.

Here’s to a quiet week, a restful Memorial Day and a safe summer for all. We’re here 24/7, ready to go. But we’d be happy not to see you out in the field.

Stay safe out there.

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Posted in Search and Rescue | Tagged disaster, lost, search and rescue | Leave a comment

The Sin of Mixed Roots: When Latin and Greek Walk into a Word

Posted on 2025-05-16 by The Narrator

Let me start by saying I don’t judge people for the choices they make in life. Love who you want, as long as everyone’s consenting and no one’s getting hurt, but if you’re going to go all-in on a lifestyle, please don’t go halfway on the language.

Case in point: many years ago, a friend and his significant other joined the polyamory community. More power to them, but “polyamory” — a word that tries to be sexy, inclusive and open — instead gave me mild lexical whiplash. Poly is Greek. Amory is Latin. That’s linguistic bed-hopping. If we’re going to be open, let’s be honest, you can’t just pick roots from different ancient civilizations and pretend like the word doesn’t have commitment issues.

If you want to go all Greek: Polyphilia. Elegant. Nerdy. Socratic. All Latin? Try Multiamore. Sounds like a perfume or a decadent Roman holiday. Either way, at least the roots aren’t arguing about syntax behind your back.

The Dire Wolf: Even Scientists Aren’t Innocent

This root salad came bubbling back to the surface when I was writing about the de-extinction of the dire wolf. Yes, that’s a real thing and you can read about it here. No, they don’t look like the ones from Game of Thrones. Those were more fantasy bear-dogs than anything else.

But here’s the kicker: the dire wolf’s scientific name is Aenocyon dirus. Let’s unpack that:

Aenocyon comes from Greek ainós (dreadful) and kyōn (dog).
Dirus is straight-up Latin for “fearsome”.

We get it. It’s scary. But you’ve just created a chimera of roots — a mutt, if you will — that would make both Homer and Virgil roll over in their respective graves. In different city-states.

Other Crimes Against Etymology

This kind of root-mixing happens all the time and somehow we’ve allowed it to slide like mismatched socks at a toga party.

Television = Greek tele (far) + Latin vision (seeing).
Why not teleopsis? Or longascope? (Okay, maybe not that last one. That sounds like a painful Victorian medical device.)
Automobile = Greek auto (self) + Latin mobilis (movable).
You’re literally driving a linguistic contradiction every day.
Homosexual = Greek homo (same) + Latin sexualis (pertaining to sex).
A classic case of a mismatched couple and one that never filed for etymological marriage counseling.
Sociology = French soci (social) + Greek logy (study).
A textbook example of a Franco-Hellenic hybrid, the poster child for linguistic indecision.
Biotechnology = Greek bios (life) + Latin tekhne (art or craft or practical skill) + Greek logy (study).
Because nothing says “cutting-edge science” like a Greco-Roman-Greco identity crisis, proof that mixing ancient languages can still mess with modern genetics.

But… Why Do We Do This?

Because we’re lazy. And flexible. And English is a Frankenstein language that long ago gave up on consistency in favor of creativity. It’s the magpie of tongues, borrowing shiny bits from Greek, Latin, French, German and whatever else it found lying around in the linguistic yard sale.

Let’s be honest: nobody wants to say “multiamorous relationship”. It sounds like a medieval medical condition. And polyphilia? That might get you flagged on a search filter.

So we shrug, say “meh”, and keep using our Greek-Latin smoothies. Does it make purists twitch? Yes. Does anyone else care? Not really. And that’s probably okay. Unless you’re a purist, that is. That might be therapy that I need.

Final Thoughts from the Word Police

The next time you’re inventing a new identity, a new creature or a new tech startup (looking at you, Theranos), spare a thought for your ancient linguistic ancestors. They conquered empires, wrote epic poems and categorized plants with surgical precision. They deserve better than a mashup menu of etymological fast food. Let’s be mindful of our language and respect the roots of our words. Whether you’re a scientist, a linguist or simply a word enthusiast, we can all do our part to preserve the sanctity of language.

If you must mix roots, at least be bold about it. Own it. Call it Greco-Latin fusion, like tapas with a side of tzatziki. But don’t pretend it’s pure.

Bonus hybrid

Remember, the dire wolf might be coming back, but the sanctity of classical languages? That bus sailed when someone named their Wi-Fi “Wīrlēas Fides”.

Wi-Fi is short for Wireless Fidelity, which in itself is a horrible linguistic mess. Old English wīr, of Germanic origin, probably from the base of Latin viere, meaning ‘plait’ or ‘weave’ + the English suffix “-less” meaning “without” or “lacking”, stemming from Old English “-lēas”, which meant “free from” + late Middle English “fidelity” from Old French fidelite or Latin fidelitas, from fidelis ‘faithful’, from fides ‘faith’. So really, your Wi-Fi is “Plait Lacking Faith”.

Language is hard. Please don’t make it any more difficult than it needs to be.

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Posted in Humor, Language | Tagged Greek, Latin, Linguistics | Leave a comment

Mom: The Friend You Never Knew You Needed (Until You Grew Up)

Posted on 2025-05-11 by The Narrator

There’s something almost magical about reaching a point in life where you can sit across from your mom, coffee in hand, and just talk. Not about chores or curfews or why your laundry always smells like gym socks, but about life. Real, grown-up, beautiful, messy life.

I’m lucky enough to still have my mother around. That’s not something I take for granted, especially when I see so many friends my age who have already lost theirs. Mother’s Day brings a lot of emotions, but one that keeps bubbling to the top for me is gratitude. Deep, heartfelt gratitude. Because somewhere along the way, between scraped knees and teenage eye rolls, my mom became my friend.

Now don’t get me wrong, she’ll always be Mom. She still worries if I’ve eaten and yes, she still thinks I should bring a sweater just in case. But these days, we talk like adults. We share stories. We laugh, hard. We offer each other advice, vent frustrations and even swap book recommendations. Somehow, she’s gone from rule-enforcer to trusted confidante and honestly, she’s better at both than I ever gave her credit for.

Having your mom as your friend doesn’t mean the relationship loses its depth or sacredness. If anything, it grows stronger. It means you’ve lived enough life to finally understand hers a little better. It means you can appreciate her not just for what she did for you, but for who she is: a whole person with dreams, heartbreaks, quirks and wisdom.

So this Mother’s Day, I’m not just grateful for the woman who raised me, I’m grateful for the woman who gets me, the one who listens when I ramble, texts me memes and still manages to find the exact words I need to hear. Not everyone gets to experience that evolution, but I do. And that’s the best gift I could ever ask for.

Happy Mother’s Day, Mom. Thanks for being the first friend I ever had and somehow, still the best one.

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Posted in Holidays | Tagged connection, Mother's Day | Leave a comment

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

Posted on 2025-05-08 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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Posted in Holidays | Tagged gifts, Mother's Day | Leave a comment

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

Posted on 2025-05-04 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.

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Posted in Society | Tagged entertainment, fandom, geekdom, Star Wars | Leave a comment

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

Posted on 2025-05-02 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 100^th 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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Posted in Society | Tagged free speech, freedom, politics | Leave a comment

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

Posted on 2025-05-01 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 1^st, 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 4^th, 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 1^st 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 1^st, 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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Posted in Labor | Tagged Haymarket Massacre, May Day, Red Scare, worker rights | Leave a comment

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

Posted on 2025-04-22 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.

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Posted in Leadership | Tagged equality, humility, leadership, Pope Francis, servant leadership | Leave a comment

Technologically Impaired

Posted on 2025-04-17 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.

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

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 2025-04-16 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.

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.

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.