Moving again

I'm rather stoked about this place. It's just undergone some fairly extensive remodeling and will have new carpeting, appliances, countertops, and lighting. Plus, the location is great for my purposes, and I was able to snatch a good deal on it.

I sent out an e-mail containing the new address. If you didn't receive it but would like to (and aren't a psychopath), please let me know. My apologies to those who may have been missed. I probably don't have all readers of this blog in my address book.

The big stuff is already moved (what little there was of it). Now, on to the items that will actually fit into my little four-dour sedan. Wish me luck.

The politics of destruction

I've already voiced my disgust with Hillary Clinton and the personal crusade she's made out of her fallen campaign for the Democratic presidential nomination. These days, though, it seems said campaign has made a precipitous decline into one of nothing more than utter destruction — not just destruction of her own legacy, but destruction of her party's chances this fall, and worst of all, destruction of anything resembling civil discourse in a critically important election year for America.

We've heard Bill's recent assertions that a conspiracy is at work against his wife, and Hillary's claims that sexism is to blame for her setbacks (surely racism hasn't touched the Obama campaign). We've witnessed the shift in her position on Michigan and Florida, two states she previously agreed wouldn't count (the former of which didn't even have her opponent's name on the ballot). Most notably, we've observed her total willingness to resort to ad hominem attacks on Barack Obama, a fellow Democrat who supposedly shares her goal of reclaiming the White House for their party in November, and may just be their best hope of doing that. With examples like these, it's clear that the Clinton camp has no intention of bowing out before doing some potentially irreparable damage.

I fear that, from the beginning, Hillary Clinton's priorities in this race placed Hillary Clinton first, with political party and country a distant second. What we're observing now is possibly reflective of a flabbergasted candidate who was once so smugly confident she had the nomination in the bag that, now faced with the reality that she does not, is intent on raising as much hell as possible — if only to delay the inevitable she once thought impossible.

Meanwhile, I'd be laughing at John McCain's assertion that the already-five-year-old Iraq war of choice can be won in another four — if the Democrats' contest of self-annihilation wasn't shaping up to possibly hand him the keys to the Oval Office.

A relaxing, low-carbon weekend

I'm always happy to make the three-hour trek south to the pleasant city of Portland, Ore., to visit several of my good friends from Iowa who now live there.

This weekend's trip, however, was special for a couple of reasons. For one, in an effort to practice what I preach, I took the train this time rather than driving the 200 miles. When I arrived, I had the pleasure of seeing some additional friends from my Iowa years whom I hadn't seen since I left the Hawkeye State more than a year ago. Two of them are spending the summer in Alaska and were passing through the Pacific Northwest on their way up there, including stops in Portland, followed by Port Townsend, Wash., and British Columbia. (They drive a hybrid car.)

The weekend was fabulous. We had the opportunity to sample some fine craft beers — including a spectacular Belgian white ale brewed by my Portland friend — and toured the city's showcase Japanese and rose gardens. On Sunday, we took a drive to the bucolic and very touristy town of Cannon Beach, Ore., along the Pacific coast. The rugged scenery was fantastic, and we got an up-close, low-tide look at some marine life on the beach. It was a typically cool, overcast, misty day along the coast. I loved it.

Both train rides were enjoyable — scenic, comfortable, and free of the hassle and various costs of driving. More than that, they were both on time and kept to schedule. For anyone seeking to reduce fuel consumption, vehicle mileage, and carbon footprint, I highly recommend the train as an alternative method of long-distance transportation.

How nature rebounds following devastation

This past Sunday, May 18, Seattle news stations were commemorating the 28th anniversary of the cataclysmic eruption of Mount Saint Helens in southern Washington. I find the story of the temperamental volcano fascinating. It's illustrative not only of nature's awesome and unpredictable power, but also of its transformative and restorative abilities.

The mountain had been silent for more than 120 years, during which time the region was a gorgeous, remote vacation spot consisting of lodges, campgrounds, and old-growth forests along the shores of Spirit Lake, pictured above as it looked prior to the eruption. On that Sunday morning in May 1980, following two months of prophetic rumblings and ash emissions at the peak, a moderate earthquake unleashed the most powerful landslide ever recorded. The result was an explosion that collapsed the north face of the mountain and spewed ash that literally circled the globe. Within seconds, one of the most beautiful places in the Northwest was reduced to a wasteland. Spirit Lake existed as a cesspool of toxic volcanic gases. Some 230 square miles of forest were leveled.

Today, the area still looks like a moonscape. Nonetheless, Mount Saint Helens is a remarkable case study in nature's ability to repair itself. The lake again hosts a fish population. On the hillsides, where decimated trees from the old forest lie horizontally like toothpicks, new signs of life are appearing — wildflowers and young trees are popping up in increasing numbers. Eventually, a lush forest will again take hold here. In the volcano's crater, a new lava dome is growing. Assuming it continues, the mountain's former height and appearance will eventually be restored. A natural rhythm exists even in a place that still looks relatively dead.

If the story of Saint Helens is a testimony to the destructive forces of nature, it's also an example of the triumph of life following a seemingly crippling disaster. I highly recommend a visit to this geologically significant place.

A silver lining in higher gas prices?

As the cost of gas continues to climb higher than Americans are used to (we still pay far less on average than most of the rest of the world), I see lots of headlines and hear lots of complaining — but so far, I've observed no indication that people are yet willing to make meaningful lifestyle changes to adapt. A recent news program reported that 83 percent of Americans still plan to drive to their destinations this coming Memorial Day weekend.

But if there's a redeemable attribute to be had over higher prices at the pump, this may be just it. People may eventually be forced to devise alternative methods of transportation, either out of financial necessity or mere disgust at the notion of padding the pockets of oil company executives. One glorious day, soccer moms in suburbia may be inspired to dump their Hummers. Freeways in America's city centers may actually move at normal speeds at rush hour, no longer clogged with single-occupant vehicles. Americans from coast to coast will entertain the idea of walking, biking, or riding to places where driving was once considered the only option (or preference). Buses, trains, and light rail systems will become much more popular, not just within cities, but across the country.

And cities nationwide will start thinking and planning smarter. Bedroom suburbs, cookie-cutter developments, and soulless shopping malls accessible only by vehicle will be a thing of the past. The ones that exist now will die as people repopulate and revitalize urban cores, wanting to be closer to work, school, and recreation, and wanting to be less dependent on their cars. Suburban sprawl will slow to a halt, effectively quelling the destruction of natural rural areas that border cities. Global warming will be reduced. The environmental implications and effects on overall quality of life could be spectacular.

Indeed, I'm talking about a utopian scenario, and the consequences of living in an automobile-dependent culture will never go away completely. Nonetheless, if gas prices force America to end its ugly obsession with non-sustainable urban planning and transportation methods, the potential benefits are tough to overestimate. At first, it will be a very rough transition requiring considerable sacrifice. There should be no doubt about that. But in the end, most Americans will be glad they did it — and for reasons that extend far beyond their checkbooks.

The smell of the Northwest in spring

Obviously, I can't aptly describe it in words — but it does make this part of the country a lovely place to be at this time of year.

I noticed it when I stepped outside after work today. It's a mix of a variety of aromas — pine needles and sap, flowering trees and bushes, moisture from recent rains, and perhaps even a clean breeze from a nearby body of water — that combine into one sweet, fresh scent that is music to one's nostrils. It's the type of fragrance you'd like to capture into a jar and release into your home during the winter months; the one your laundry sheets supposedly replicate, but really, they don't come close.

I know, I might as well be writing a fairy tale or storybook with such a description. Given recent headlines in the news, however, couldn't we all use some of that?

In other news, the forecast for Friday and the weekend is sun and temperatures in the mid-80s. I'm typically not a huge sun-loving kind of guy — but at this time of year, I'll take it and enjoy it. Perhaps with a cool brew near the waterfront.

Obama stickers ain't free

Reasonably comfortable now that the Democratic nomination is Barack Obama's for the taking — and recognizing that he's the only candidate of the bunch I'd vote for this fall anyway — I decided to order a bumper sticker to proudly display.

So, I made a quick trip to www.barackobama.com and visited the Web site's store, expecting I'd need to contribute a negligible fee to cover the cost of mailing and perhaps production of the sticker itself — maybe a dollar or two at most. The base price of a Barack Obama bumper sticker is $3. Close enough.

But then I reached the part where you enter your name and shipping information, which I did, only to discover that the sole shipping option is via UPS, which adds another $2.95 for a total cost of nearly $6. Isn't that a tad steep for a flimsy bumper sticker — the very type of item you often see handed out for free at campaign events? (I didn't see them at the Obama rally I attended.)

It's possible that I'm simply being cheap. (I do have a reputation for that.) And they probably have to package it in such a way that it isn't damaged in transit. Still, I'm giving the senator from Illinois free publicity by ordering this item in the first place. And paying UPS nearly $3 to ship me a piece of paper with some adhesive on it won't help Barack Obama's election chances in the fall.

Ultimately, I'll probably pitch in the $6 for the sticker — but not without first whining about it. I'm pretty good at that when it comes to spending money.

How can God exist when this happens?

The more I hear about the situation in Myanmar, the more incomprehensible it becomes.

Thinking about this, it occurs to me how hard it must be for many people to even entertain the notion of the existence of an all-powerful, benevolent, loving God. If he does exist — and if any of the aforementioned traits are accurate — how could he allow something like this to happen? Indeed, if God exists, how can we live in a world so utterly dominated by suffering, strife, and despair? Even here in our own backyard, we see it — people who sleep in cardboard boxes under bridges in our cities; mentally disturbed individuals who go on shooting rampages and kill innocent bystanders. Truly, if we take the condition of this world at face value, it's hard to believe that there is a God.

Further, a belief in God must be dictated largely by one's personal circumstances. It's easy for someone like myself to believe in God. I have a warm, safe place to sleep at night, earn a stable income, have clothes to wear and a car to drive. I grew up in a stable family and attended good schools. If I'm thirsty, I simply walk five steps to the faucet, where I can trust that I'll receive clean, safe water at any hour, day or night. If I'm hungry, I can go to the grocery store, where I can trust that there will be food I can afford. But what about someone who has none of these things? What about the child who lost his whole family from war or the AIDS crisis? What about the woman who literally lost everything she owned — which wasn't much to begin with — in this cyclone?

I do believe in God, and I wish I could answer these questions, but I cannot. If we choose to believe in an omnipotent being who exists beyond the realm of our physical or intellectual perception, we must accept that there will be a host of realities that we can neither understand nor reconcile. The essence of God is that we are limited and he is not. As such, we can't expect to adequately comprehend his ways, his plan, or the condition of his creation. If any of that is comprehensible, then we're on the same level as God — which means he isn't God.

For those who struggle with this — and I surely do — I have but one piece of advice. Remember that love is a fundamental component of God's identity, and one we can understand. Even in the darkest places and during the darkest moments of human history, we've been able to see it. In Myanmar right now, the scene must be like hell on earth, but even there, we know people are reaching out to those who have been devastated, and doing so out of love and compassion. During World War II, there were Germans and even Nazi soldiers who secretly assisted persecuted Jews, risking their own lives and doing so out of love and compassion. In the antebellum South, there were those who surreptitiously helped slaves escape to freedom — believing in human dignity, and again, doing so out of love and compassion.

Examples like these illustrate that no level of pain or despair in this world — however horrendous — has ever been powerful enough to extinguish the light of love and good that God represents. We may not understand his ways, or why he allows horrible things to happen, and the condition of reality may be a compelling argument against his existence. Regardless, there always has been — and always will be — clear evidence of his existence, even in the midst of unimaginable tragedy.

And the nominee is...

This is an interesting interactive site, unusual for CNN. It allows the viewer to use a "delegate calculator" to gauge the possible effects of the six remaining contests this primary season — West Virginia, Kentucky, Oregon, Montana, South Dakota, and Puerto Rico — by altering the hypothetical results of those contests with a scroll bar. You can also use this feature to determine how the superdelegates will ultimately play into the nomination.

Superdelegates aside, I used this site to find out just how daunting the battle looks for Hillary Clinton at this point. From her perspective, it must look pretty bleak. I gave her the benefit of the doubt and awarded her with a minimum 70-percent victory in each of the remaining contests. Even with all of that, she still ended up behind Barack Obama in terms of pledged delegates.

Of course, Clinton would look far more attractive to those remaining superdelegates if she did somehow manage to score a decisive win in all six remaining primaries and caucuses. But this scenario will never happen, so it looks like her best option at this point is to continue arguing that Florida's and Michigan's delegates should be seated at the August convention.

Out of courtesy for my readership, I'll omit from this post any discussion of my opinion of that idea.

Let's not turn a blind eye

Tropical Cyclone Nargis, which struck the South Asian nation of Myanmar last weekend, may ultimately be responsible for more than 100,000 deaths, according to the top U.S. diplomat there. If true, that's almost five times the current number of confirmed casualties — an astronomical number in itself. As of Wednesday, more than 22,000 are reported dead. Roughly double that number remain missing, and millions are now homeless.

Working for an international humanitarian aid organization that has served in Myanmar for 40 years (and is one of the few present on the ground there right now), I'm reminded of how sheltered Americans are from most of the unspeakable suffering that happens in other parts of the world — including the present crisis in this country that most here have probably never heard of and certainly could not identify on a map. I've been reading accounts of floating dead bodies, waterborne disease outbreaks, and food shortages in a place where many people survive on less than $2 per day. These are grisly images that we encounter only in newspaper headlines and on television — and only in censored versions and for a fleeting moment at that. We don't face them as stark realities of life, the way so many others do. We can forget about them when we want.

I point this out not as an inducement of guilt, but as a reminder. A catastrophe of this size on the other side of the world makes me wonder how our nation would respond if struck by a similar tragedy — a six-figure death toll, thousands more missing, and millions left homeless right here in America. Would we want the rest of the world to stand by our side at a devastating moment like that? Or would we expect people overseas to read about it online a few times — only to offer their condolences and let it fade from their memory?

Keeping this in mind, let's not ignore human suffering in another part of the world just because it's a place that isn't familiar to us.

A victory for conservation

This is the sort of headline that warms my heart.

Last September, I wrote a blog post about the Wild Sky region, a land area of about 106,000 acres just northeast of Seattle targeted by local lawmakers and environmentalists for designation as a federally protected wilderness area. Situated on the west slope of the Cascade Range, the region contains low-elevation coniferous forests and serves as a habitat for bears, bald eagles, and other wildlife. It's also the gateway to other existing wilderness areas and a national forest that help keep the North Cascades region largely unspoiled and remote. Wild Sky's designation as a wilderness area would place it off-limits for roads, motorized vehicles, bicycles, and logging.

For years, certain members from both chambers of Congress — whose identities and rationales are no longer relevant — blocked this proposal from moving forward. Late last month, however, the bill finally cleared the House and Senate and now simply requires a signature from George W. Bush. Since he probably has no clue where Wild Sky is — and because the land has no known oil value — I suspect he'll do it.

From an environmental perspective, this is a victory on numerous levels. It secures another large parcel of land in the area as forever undeveloped, providing a natural setting close to a major city and enhancing quality of life for the whole region. It ensures a safe habitat for wildlife and natural vegetation and preserves a watershed for Puget Sound. Perhaps most importantly is the message it conveys: In an era when economic development has typically trumped stewardship of our natural resources, there are still efforts being made to show that a responsible balance can be made between the two. I hope this is a trend that will continue in Washington state and across the United States. Future generations depend on it.