Happy Armistice Day

Ninety-two years ago, November 11, 1918, the twentieth century's seminal war ended with a whimper - an armistice, not a victory.

Subsequent events conveyed the illusion of victory: The political and economic collapse of Germany; the destruction of the Austro-Hungarian Empire; the collapse of the Russian Empire and descent into Civil War. Other catastrophic events were to follow.

In a prescient essay, John Maynard Keynes warned of "The Economic Consequences of the Peace" that followed. European wars continued to rage. Hungary attacked Czechoslovakia. Poland attacked the Soviet Union. The Soviet Union invaded Poland. The United States and England invaded the Russian arctic near Murmansk. The United States, Japan and England occupied much of Siberia.

The word "armistice" conveyed the ambiguity of the war's end. Despite our resounding victory over Germany and Japan in 1945, World War II also did not resolve the ambiguities of World War I. If you watch "Lawrence of Arabia," it should be apparent that we are still playing out many of that war's ambiguities.

Maybe we should reactivate the name "Armistice Day."

More on Coffee

Puritans usually believe what they learned as a child is the be all and end all of knowledge, or at least of right conduct. More open-minded people sometimes think out of the box.

When I was a child, coffee came already ground up, in a can that said "Folgers" or "Maxwell House" ("good to the last drop") or possibly even "Luzianne." That seemed meet and right to me.

I was twenty years old when I learned about grinding your own beans. I was a house guest of a Navy Commander and his wife, who had traveled the world. I visited them in Memphis, Tennessee, where they had the habit of grinding their beans fresh in the morning.

What a difference in flavor! I still put sugar in it, but I no longer added any dairy product. It was a year later before I abandoned sugar in my coffee, but once I experienced freshly ground beans, there was no going back.

Deceased Voters

Several months ago we had a bit of a dispute in Pamlico County over clearing our voter registration rolls of voters who were deceased or had moved. I argued that we must be very careful who we remove.

Last Tuesday a voter turned up to vote, but encountered a problem. The voter, who was very much alive, had been removed from Pamlico County's rolls on the basis of information received from the State of North Carolina reporting the voter's death.

Reports of the voter's death, it turned out, were greatly exaggerated.

An example of why we need to be very careful about sources. Even official sources may turn out to be erroneous.

UN Convention on the Rights of the Child

One of the strangest articles to appear recently in a local newspaper was an attack on the UN Convention on the Rights of the Child.

Curious as to what the fuss was about, I looked it up here.

The convention was negotiated with full participation by the United States during the Reagan administration. It was opened for signature in November, 1989 and became effective when enough nations adhered to it in September, 1990.

Every member of the United Nations has acceded to the convention except for two: the United States of America and Somalia.

Is this really the company we want to keep?

Coffee: Part I

When I was a child, I spake as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child: but when I became a man, I put away childish things.

I Corinthians, 13:11 (King James Version)

I was about six years old when my grandmother gave me half a cup of milk, added some coffee and sweetening and let me drink the grown-up drink. The sweetening was saccharine - sugar was rationed and too precious to use in coffee or tea.

When I went off to sea a decade and a half later, the only thing I had to drink was coffee. It kept me awake on the bridge during the mid watch. I drank it any time of day or night. I would have a cup before going to bed and sleep like a log.

I had long since stopped putting milk in it, but I kept using sugar. I drank so much coffee, I got coffee nerves. A shipmate suggested I stop using sugar. I did. The coffee nerves went away.

I had finally put away childish things - at least concerning coffee.

Vote in Remembrance

Never forget: Brave Americans gave their lives so you can vote.

Honor their memory. Go to the polls.

124 voters voted at Bayboro Friday.

Vote Early

The polls opened at the Bayboro courthouse yesterday morning for one-stop voting.

Why is it called one-stop? Because you can register, make any changes to your voter registration, and vote all at the same place. In fact, only during one-stop you can register to vote and go ahead and cast your ballot.

NC is one of only ten states to offer some form of same day registration and voting.

Yesterday's turnout was pretty good: 116 voters cast their ballots.

Cutting the Apron Strings

Today's New York Times has an interesting article examining the difficulty today's college students have breaking away from their parents. Have College Freshmen Changed? Cutting the Apron Strings examines the phenomenon.

But it starts well before college.

Children seldom get to play on their own. Their sports are organized and supervised by adults. They have no free time - it is all programmed.

Sixty years ago, mothers would shoo us out of the house. "Go out and play. Be back for supper."

We would ride our bikes for miles. For sports, we found a vacant lot and chose up sides. The baseball might be wrapped in tape in lieu of the original leather cover, the cracked bat repaired with electrical tape or even a nail. A few of us had gloves. There was no catcher's equipment, batting helmet or any of that. Any scrap of wood could serve as home plate. Other scraps or a mark in the dust would outline a base. We called our own balls and strikes and outs.

Not an adult in sight.

If there weren't enough kids to have two teams, we played workup. (Also called "scrub" some places).

During football season, we played tackle without helmets or pads. The only shoes were tennis shoes.

In the winter we played basketball on a dirt court, shooting at a hoop attached to a square piece of plywood nailed to a tree. My basketball had laces like a football.

We had to solve our own squabbles.

It wasn't a bad way to grow up.