The Disappearing Pacific Island

I wanted to alert you to look for a documentary I learned about at an event last night. The film is called, There Once Was an Island, and tells the story of a tiny atoll in the South Pacific that faces an uncertain future. I haven't yet seen it, but it looks fascinating.

The island's future is uncertain because it appears to be sinking into the sea--a problem of some urgency for its isolated population of five hundred people.

The young woman who produced the film--thirty-year-old Briar March--is a New Zealander working on her MFA at Stanford University. She read about the atoll in 2006 and, with great difficulty, worked to tell its story.

The difficulty came because the island--near-but-not-so-near to Bouganville, in the Solomon Islands--can be reached by ship only once every two or three months and has no electricity. She and her crew had to use solar panels to charge their equipment, remaining on the island for months at a time and living, along with the natives, in thatched huts without indoor plumbing.

March is from an arty family of Kiwis--(she described her parents as hippies!)--and she's already won a Fulbright Fellowship in addition to her scholarships to Stanford University, so she is clearly a talented young woman.

Briar March, center, with her parents in New Zealand.

I found her point of view interesting because she did not immediately attribute the island's problems to global warming. Instead, she did real research on what is happening there: ("It's complicated," she said). She also worked to make a difference: bringing a scientist with her on one visit, so GPS mapping could be used to help the population make informed decisions about evacuating.

While she was there, there was a flood. I hate to call that a filmmaker's dream--because it clearly wasn't a good thing for the locals--but it is the kind of thing that clearly helped her tell the story.


As a television news reporter, it took me several years to realize that my job was like the job of a documentarian (though slightly more low brow): I was making little non-fiction movies every day. A good story was almost never difficult to tell. If a story was difficult to tell, it generally wasn't a good story.

Not a problem with this tale. Keep your eye out for this award-winning film.

There Once Was An Island: Te Henua e Nnoho, produced by Briar March and Lyn Collie. For more information click on:
THERE ONCE WAS AN ISLAND WEB SITE

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How the Pope Changed Washington's B'day

A vintage Washington's Birthday postcard from the collection of Russell Hughes

 of Orlando, Florida.

Most of our founding fathers, George Washington included, were born under the Julian calendar, but died under the Gregorian: so the days of their birth shifted in the middle of their lives.

George Washington's original birth year was 1731.

The Julian calendar was established by Julius Caesar, 46 years before the birth of Christ, and for more than fifteen centuries it was the standard calendar used in the West: and by some countries in the East as well. Caesar established a year that was 364 1/4 days long, designed to synchronize with a complete cycle of the Earth's seasons.

But his year was eleven minutes, fourteen seconds too slow, which didn't mean much at first. But by the sixteenth century, the date that marked the New Year--which was then the first day of spring--was ten days behind the vernal equinox.

In 1582, Pope Gregory XIII consulted with scientists and devised a calendar so accurate that it is still in use today. Called the Gregorian calendar in his honor, it creates leap years, which add one day to the calendar every four years, except on centennial years--unless the year is divisible by four.

He then decreed that the New Year would henceforth begin January 1, instead of March 21; and to get the calendar caught up with the seasons, he told everybody they were going to have to lose ten days in the process.

October 4, 1582, would be followed by October 15, 1582. Since he was the Pope he could order this sort of thing and have it happen. Well, almost.

By the sixteenth century, the West was no longer entirely Roman Catholic. The Reformation had swept Europe, the Orthodox churches in the East followed their own calendar, and it consequently took several centuries for the new calendar to be widely adopted.

George Washington, John Adams, Thomas Jefferson and the other founding fathers were all caught up in the change. Britain and her colonies finally adopted the Gregorian calendar in 1752, and by that time they had to add eleven days to make it come out right.

September 2, 1752 was followed by September 14, 1752. George Washington, who was 21 at the time, got a new birth date. The original date of his birth, February 11, 1731 (now called O.S. for Old Style) was changed to February 22, 1732 (now called N.S. for New Style). The change of the year, came because Washington was born between January--when the New Year now began--and March--when the New Yard had begun (O.S.)

George Washington kept a diary his entire life and imagine how confusing it was for him! A full five years before the switch, a teenage GW made a diary entry dated Fryday, March 11th 1747/8. It suggests the upcoming change was already on his mind.

What happened, do you suppose, to the eleven days everyone in America lost in 1752? And here's another question: Washington died in 1799. Was he 68 when he died? Or 67?

People in the U.S. began honoring our first president's birthday during his lifetime and the celebrations varied even then. Some were held on the 11th of February and some on the 22nd. This is another vintage card from the Russell Hughes collection.

The U.S. Archives has transcribed all of George Washington's diaries and has them available now On Line. One of the most fascinating things you can do is to read through them and learn more about the life of this remarkable man.

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Interesting Experiences With Color ...

New curtains are up in one more room.

I had a houseful of company in the last few days and one of the guest rooms still didn't have the drapes up: but that was remedied in the middle of their visit, when Mr. Pink arrived with the new window treatments.

One of the challenges of working with fabrics is that you usually start with a little sample slightly larger than a postage stamp and you just have to imagine what it will look like when you put 20 yards of it up on a window. (Note to fabric companies: you could remedy this if you made "memo samples" almost a yard and charged a fee for them.)

In this case, I was trying to bring some lavender/purple hues into the room, so I chose a wisteria-and-cream check in silk and linen from Robert Allen. It was fairly neutral and that fits in with my philosophy that if you have to live with something for a long time--this may or may not apply to people--it is often best to avoid the flamboyant.

The check looks very buttoned down, doesn't it?

In any case the one thing I didn't think about was how the eye perceives a very small check: the eye doesn't see a small check well and the two colors--wisteria and cream--blend together to make a sort of gray. It is a wisteria-colored gray. But the optical illusion surprised me. I still like the drapes, though.

The rug is the one from Kazakhstan I bought from the Bukhara Rug company on the Internet. The yurt door (against the wall) is from Kyrgyzstan. Doesn't everyone have a yurt door?

I could have chosen a more dramatic, and much larger, wisteria and white check, and I think that would have looked good too. Robert Allen has a pretty one in the same collection--Beacon Hill/Casa Loma--but it was all silk and I wasn't sure how that would wear, over time, in such a sunny window. Sunlight is tough on natural fabrics.

Small check, large check. Both have their good points.

I think either of the checks would have been fine in the room. But the more neutral one will probably last longer. And will be easier to decorate around as I make changes in the years ahead.

But I continue to be amazed and how color and fabric can morph and change before your eyes. Perhaps that is why it is so interesting.

I had a gathered valance made in the small check for the bow window. It has cellular shades on its windows.

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Google's Wael Gonim in Egypt: "This Revolution Started On Line"

We awakened this morning, to revolution in Egypt.

"Revolution 2.0 has happened!" That's what Wael Gonim, the young Google executive, said on CNN this morning when it was announced that Egypt's Hosni Mubarak has "stepped down."

I suspect, after Mubarak refused to quit last night, the U.S. trained military took him to one of those undisclosed locations where he is now going to remain for some time. Egypt's Vice President looked somewhat ashen when he made the announcement of the "change" in government.

He's probably being held in the same place.

Gonim, meanwhile, was both humble and exuberant. He is the young man who helped get the demonstrations for democracy in Egypt going, through Facebook and Twitter, before he was arrested by Mubark's thugs and kept blindfolded for twelve days as the movement grew white hot.

Today, on CNN, he said he'd like to meet Facebook's Mark Zukerberg personally and thank him. (He'll be getting that call very soon--don't you think?)

He also thanked the international media saying the cameras in the square had helped save lives during the time when Mubarak sent out his bullies to beat up demonstrators and reporters--thinking that would help bring an end to the furor.

Does Gonim see himself in politics? "I want to go back to my job," he said. He's young, idealistic, has an American wife and works for Google in the Middle East. "I am not an expert on international relations," he said. "But this is a revolution of the people."

What does that mean?

The quote I heard from former CIA director James Woolsey today--"The revolution devours his own children"--has been attributed to more than one person, but, it is an apt quote that interjects a note of caution amidst the celebrations.

The challenge with revolutions, as history shows us, is that into the vacuum and chaos that follows, new tyrants and demagogues often rush in, where angels fear to tread.

In this case, it appears the Egyptian military, with its strong ties to the U.S., secured the country before "helping" Mubarak make his decision to "turn over power"--right after he announced on television Thursday night he wasn't going to do that.

Egypt has been a great ally of the United States, since Anwar Sadat signed the peace treaty with Israel more than thirty years ago.

Now, America has a real opportunity to make an even greater friend, by helping the Egyptian military lead that ancient nation to a true democracy. We can do it if we use great skill. And this will be a test for the Obama administration's skill.

The Reagan administration was able to help lead a nation like Portugal out of that darkness of its socialist/communist government--years before the fall of the Soviet Union--with economic encouragement. Portugal is now a member of the European Union.

Let's hope "revolution 2.0" in Egypt is aided by us to remain as democratic, optimistic, and peaceful as it began. American ingenuity, via the Internet, helped get it going. Let's hope America, with its own history of a positive, democratic revolution, befriends these wonderful people and helps them as they aspire to be free.

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Guest Post: How Israel Views the Demonstrations for Democracy in Egypt

Demonstrators gather in Cairo on Tuesday.

Robin writes: Israel is the only democracy in the Middle East, and Egypt, under Anwar Sadat, was the first Arab nation to sign a peace treaty with Israel. Sadat gave his life for his efforts, but the treaty held. Now, with demonstrators protesting the autocratic rule of Sadat's successor, Hosni Mubarak, Israelis wonder what the future will bring. A Florida mental health professional who is teaching in Israel, gives us an American perspective on how Israelis view the turmoil in Egypt. Having seen what happened in Iran in 1979, they know that a "democratic revolution" does not always bring about positive change. For his own safety, we identify our guest writer as Dr. K.

Guest Post from Israel
by
Dr. K

“Military, pro-Mubarak groups driven off overpass; Egyptian army uses tanks to separate rival camps; at least 6 demonstrators shot dead, over 600 injured since riots broke out.” These were the headlines on the front page of the Jerusalem Post a couple of days ago.

Keeping abreast of the news in the United States, I listen closely on my laptop to the words of President Obama, Secretary of State Clinton, and even Senator John McCain expressing a need for the birth of democracy in Egypt, and an immediate need for open, transparent elections. These are the ideals that the United States of America, a country that I dearly love, was founded on. Here in Israel, the people that I ask have different opinions about the whole ordeal; the general concern here in Israel is to keep the State of Israel safe and secure.

Americans abroad can keep abreast of the news in English, by streaming CNN on their laptop computers.

Today’s front page reads: “Israel says no to more Egyptian troops in Sinai,” and a senior military source is quoted as saying: "We don’t want it to seem as if the peace treaty is meaningless, particularly when there could be a regime change in Cairo.” At this moment, there are approximately 800 Egyptian troops on the Sinai Peninsula. In 1979, Israel agreed to give this territory back to Egypt on the condition that it would remain demilitarized.

Now there is great concern that the Muslim Brotherhood will become the ruling party in Egypt. Democracy and fair elections are well and good; however, the Muslim Brotherhood has openly called for the destruction of Israel. This is the Muslim Brotherhood that believes that women who commit adultery should be stoned to death, and people who are caught stealing should have their hands cut off.

It really doesn’t matter who in Israel I ask about this: ultra orthodox and secular, taxi driver and physician, soldier and yeshiva student; all have the same concern, a concern that is not necessarily based on any understanding of how these events in Egypt came about. In fact I’m not sure myself why this great revolt over the autocratic government of Hosni Mubarak did not happen long ago.

Israelis know only that for the past 30 years, there has been a tangible peace treaty. For 30 years, the two governments have shared information and intelligence, and a mutual understanding. And yes, Egypt has always been a great deterrent to any of Israel’s enemies. And frankly, with real missiles fired by Palestinian groups hitting the southern part of Israel from Gaza on almost a daily basis, continual threats from Iran and Lebanon, and now, Egyptian tanks on the Sinai for the first time in 30 years, Israelis don’t seem to give a hoot about Egyptian “democracy"--seen here, cynically, as the right to choose the next Egyptian dictatorship.

Israelis don’t care about President Mubarak’s personal attributes. Nor do they care how he runs his country. They just want the present security relationship with Egypt to stay the same. And the status quo appears to be as fragile as the chance for a real democracy in Egypt.

Dr. K. is an American citizen who is currently living in Ramat Beit Shemesh, Israel.

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Tuesday Wonderings...

Stylish (and extinct) Motor City vehicle.

I wonder why Detroit doesn't make pretty cars anymore--like the one (above) I saw being worked on in the sun yesterday. I saw the "Motor City" ads during the Super Bowl, but really cool-looking cars might be an even better "marketing vehicle" ...

I wonder if anyone else thought, as I did, that the best part of the Super Bowl was hearing the voices of so many Americans reading the words of our Declaration of Independence ... Thomas Jefferson was a man of many contradictions, but the document he composed, with the help of our other founding fathers, is beautiful in both language and ideals. I wonder how they could come up with things like that before the invention of the "creative meeting," "branding" and (the always deadly) "mission statement" ...

I wonder if I should even make fun of that chubby, blonde tart who fouled up the Star Spangled Banner ... Perhaps instead I should wonder how much they paid her ... and why she didn't practice ... and who it was who thought she could sing ...

I wonder what that telephone conversation was like, late last week, between the 82-year-old military dictator of Egypt and our 49-year-old president. And our threats are what? And Mubarak should worry about what we might do ... how much? I wouldn't want to play poker with HM, ever ...

I wonder what this whole tattoo thing is all about? Those highly paid Super Bowl football players were covered with body art. I wonder what it will look like when they are all really old and their skin starts to drift turfward ...

..speaking of turf ...

I wonder what happened to the critter who re-attacked my lawn last week and then, whoosh, disappeared again ... I wonder if some skunk is just toying with me. Like Hosni Mubarak is with President Obama ...

I wonder why it isn't spring, all the time ...

Quince, blooming in my California garden, along with the beginnings of the other early flowers ...

... Ladyfingers ....

... and magnolia solangeana.

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G'day Australia: Florida Feels Your Pain

Winter Park, Florida, 2004. The morning after Hurricane Charley paid us a visit. My neighbor Gene Randall took this photo of a house down the street from us.

The headlines showing Cyclone Yasi bearing down on the east coast of Australia brought back many memories. It is a Category 5, which is a deadly force. I know because I survived a summer of hurricanes in Florida in 2004.

Hurricane storms in the Pacific are called cyclones: this is a satellite photo of Cyclone Yasi slamming into Australia.


In 2004, three hurricanes in a row hit my little town of Winter Park, Florida. First came Charley, then Frances, then Jeanne. In between, Ivan struck the Florida panhandle where my niece and her two boys were surviving a year without her husband, who was serving in Iraq.

The track of Hurricane Charley, August 13, 2004.

When Hurricane Charley hit Central Florida, I spent the evening with my friends the Seymours. At one point the storm blew their living room porch doors open and Polly and I had to push them shut while Thad put nails in them to keep them closed. Then, one of their upstairs windows blew out and water began pouring down their walls.

It felt like a scene from the movie Key Largo.

As the eye of the hurricane passed over us, we felt the lull, and feared what would happen on the back side of the storm. We were lucky and landfall had weakened Charley enough that the back side diminished into lashing wind and rain. Thank goodness.

Thad walked me back to my house, a block away, in pitch darkness. You never really know how dark the dark can be until all the electrical power for miles around is out and the sparkle of lights everywhere around you is gone. That's dark.

It wasn't until the next morning, after sunrise, when I stepped outside, that I was able to see the full extent of the damage. My neighbors were all standing on their front porches doing the same thing I was doing: staring in wonder at the destruction.

All of the power lines were down on every single street. This was my street, Glencoe Road in Winter Park, Florida.

The road was impassable. It was covered with downed trees, broken glass and--worse of all--downed power lines. There wasn't a power line in place anywhere. I realized the danger Thad and I had been in when we walked through the streets the night before. Fortunately for us, when the storm hit, the power company killed the power in the lines for safety or I probably wouldn't be here writing this now.

Thus, in the middle of the heat and humidity of a Florida summer we languished without power for seven days while FEMA crews scrambled to repair power lines all over Central Florida. It made me realize that the aftermath of a natural disaster is almost always far worse than the disaster itself. Food spoiled in the refrigerator, humidity dampened the walls, rain fell into homes where roofs had been damaged by falling trees. Water had to be boiled for safety or distributed in bottles. Sewer pumps failed.

Huge piles of storm debris teetered along the sides of roadways, and an entire soccer field at a local park was commandeered by FEMA for mulching the mess and piling it into trucks to be buried who-knows-where.

Track of Hurricane Frances, September 2004.

We could hardly believe it when, a few weeks later, Frances hit and we went through it all over again: Frances destroyed our power grid for five days. The fire house gave out bottled water and bags of ice. But we were all drenched in sweat and growing weary. And then ...

Track of Hurricane Jeanne.

... a few weeks after that, Jeanne hit and I watched as a towering pine in my next door neighbor's yard teetered and fell across the road. Power out again: this time for three days.

My little Winter Park house survived with just a few twisted gutters.

I was lucky. My own house, built in 1927, managed to make it through with only minor damage. My friends the Seymours, who had a gorgeous historic home with a leaky basement and a sump pump that only worked when there was electricity, made the wise decision to sell. They moved into a townhouse where maintenance is included in the fees.

In between our three hurricanes, Ivan slammed Pensacola. The family rallied 'round my niece and her two toddlers. The insurance company had her roof covered in blue plastic tarp until it could be repaired. Her father and father-in-law helped her with other work that had to be done. Her two little boys were fascinated by the experience.

When their father returned to their battered home, they called him the Army Man and told him about all the excitement he had missed. He just smiled. He had lived through his own storm of excitement for a year in Iraq and was glad to be back in the land of hurricanes.

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