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Stuck In Traffic Issue 17
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Stuck In Traffic
"Current Events, Cultural Phenomena, True Stories"
Issue #17 - August 1996
Contents:
Check Your Bags?
As we consider proposals to make airline travel safer, it's
important that we remember the associated costs.
Olympic Park Terrorist Caught?
David Price considers the implications if the current speculation
that a security guard planted the bomb is true.
Why Are These Men Running?
Why running with the bulls at Spain's Festival of San Fermin
has lasted 600 years.
Teamwork vs. Working As A Team
A lesson learned about teamwork on the tarmac.
Shakespeare Goes Goth
A convergence of punks, movies, gothics, chinese food, and
Shakespeare in the suburbs.
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Current Events
Check Your Bags?
In the aftermath of the TWA disaster, which at this point is looking
more and more like sabotage, the President has been making proposals
right and left about how best to fight terrorism in the United
States. One may question why the President makes these proposals
now, while the country is collectively panicked rather than after
we've had a chance to calm down, but it's a moot question. The
proposals are out there now, legislators are debating them. So we
better be thinking about them also.
The proposal that seems most reasonable, and most likely to be
enacted, is increasing security measures used to screen passengers
and luggage at airports. The current search procedures at airports
in the United States seem to be minimally prudent without being too
invasive. Checked luggage is subject to being searched but in
practice it rarely is. Airline workers who check baggage make a
modest attempt to ensure that they only check luggage that clearly
belongs to a passenger on a flight. Before entering boarding areas,
everyone has to pass through metal detectors and have their carry on
items scanned via X-Ray.
The Clinton Administration is proposing that people be required to
show picture identification when checking in for a flight and
checking their luggage. The Administration is also proposing that
there be a large increase in the numbers of bags that are randomly
searched as a means of discouraging anyone from planting explosives
in checked luggage. The searches as people enter the boarding areas
of airports would also be more thorough. Finally, the
administration wants to require thorough "background checks" of all
people who work with airline baggage and air cargo.
The strategy here is simple and straight forward. But is it worth
doing? Proposals like these always have to be weighed against the
inconvenience, the invasion of privacy, and the expense. Since
these proposals have to be implemented by the airlines and the
airport authorities, the cost of them is passed on to the travelers
in increased ticket prices and airport usage fees. How much more
are we willing to spend? Let's set aside the thorny issues of
balancing government power against the Bill of Rights and take the
government out of the picture all together for a moment.
Suppose an airline started a new program in which they start hand
searching every piece of luggage loaded on to the plane and
carefully searching every person boarding the plane. Not only will
this reduce the chances of the flights falling victim to terrorist
acts to practically none, it will also reduce the risks of dangerous
things being brought onto the plane, like those that cause the
ValuJet crash. But their operating costs will also be much higher
so their ticket prices will be higher than competing airlines. How
much are you willing to pay for this added security? How much
earlier are you willing to arrive at the airport? How much are you
going to mind if people rummage through all your belongings? Would
this airline's program give it a competitive advantage? Or would it
go out of business?
Ultimately these three sorts of "costs" have to be weighed against
the perceived likelihood that the flight will fall victim to
terrorism and/or that dangerous items will be inadvertently brought
on board.
In times of crisis, like after the TWA disaster and after the
ValuJet crash, we have a tendency to disregard issues of cost and
focus on the problem. No one wants to appear uncaring or
unresponsive. If we fail at a task, it's at least not for lack of
trying to address the problem. Inaction is one of the gravest sins
in our society, even worse than ignorance. And while this may be
one of our greatest strengths, those disregarded costs usually come
back to haunt us. This country's mind boggling debt is testament
to the dangers of disregarded costs. So while we discuss what needs
to be done to restore our faith in the safety of air travel, it is
important for us to keep in mind what we will be giving up compared
to what we gain.
===================================
Current Events
Olympic Park Terrorist Caught?
by David Price
Imagine, if you will, if the current line of media speculation about
the Olympic Park bombing in fact proves correct:
An overweight Barney Fyffe gets fired from Mayberry and goes to work
in Security for a small private school in the same county. He gets
fired from the school for being "overenthusiastic" in his
investigations.
This bully, who wants to be a hero in the worst way, gets himself
hired as part of the most ballyhooed, most expensive,
highest-profile, and highest-tech security group in history.
He's almost there; he's in there with the NSA, CIA, FBI, BATF,
Georgia Bureau of Investigations, Georgia State Patrol, Atlanta
Police Department, Fulton County Police, and a host of other
like-minded types from a host of other organizations.
He's one of them, but he waits a week and still gets no chance to be
a hero. He decides to make his own break. He plants a bomb with at
least a 30-minute delay, then "spots" it, and begins to try to
evacuate people from the area. He figures he's got time. An
accomplice calls 911, and Barney figures the bomb squad will be
there in a couple of minutes. He will have saved everybody, and
will be a hero.
The most ballyhooed, most expensive, highest-profile, and
highest-tech security group in the world takes 10 minutes to even
notify the local police department because the 911 operator can't
find a street address for Centennial Olympic Park. It's only one of
the largest and most publicized pieces of real estate in the entire
City of Atlanta. Anybody left alive inthe city who doesn't know
where it is has been in a coma for the last 3 years.
When Atlanta's finest finally get the word, they dispatch a squad to
a telephone booth 2 blocks away from the threatened site.
It takes another 20 minutes for someone to notify the bomb squad.
Nobody ever notifies the rent-a-cops inside the park.
Of course, by then, the bomb has gone off 12 minutes early because
Barney didn't set the timer correctly, and 2 innocent people have
died.
Now, help me understand this ... President Clinton is going to use
this as part of his excuse to further destroy our Constitutional
liberties. He's also going to ask for more of our tax money to
authorize many of these same klutzes to "protect" us against one
klutz who can't even make it as a Sheriff's Deputy in a small
Southern county?
About the Author:
David Price, when he's not battling car transmissions, herding cats,
selling bread, or daydreaming about airplanes, can be heard on radio
station WJJC in Commerce, Georgia. He can be contacted by sending
e-mail to kpmm68a@prodigy.com.
===================================
Cultural Phenomena
Why Are These Men Running?
Each year, thousands and thousands of people from around the world
gather in the town of Pamplona, Spain to celebrate the Festival of
San Fermin. Like most festivals, the Festival of San Fermin is a
yearly showcase for local musicians, artists, and entertainers.
But mostly it's a ten day long party. Basements that are normally
used for warehouses, are turned into bars to handle the crowds.
They're open all night. The streets are packed, filled with people
milling around. Nationalities are blurred by good will, alcohol,
and lack of sleep. But the highlight of the Festival of San Fermin,
the main reason people gather there is for the daily "El Encierro,"
the bull runs.
These bull runs, made famous by Earnest Hemmingway, are a 600 year
old tradition in Pamplona. Each day during the festival, the bulls
that will be in the afternoon's bull fights are released from the
ramparts at the edge of the city's ancient fortress walls and run
through a narrow winding course through the streets of the oldest
part of town and into the bull ring where they are then corralled.
Groups of people, mostly young men, the "mozos," run through the
narrow streets with the bulls. The course is narrow, with many
sharp turns and steep grades, and at the end it funnels the bulls
and runners through a narrow tunnel into the bull ring, where
thousands of spectators gather to watch the mozos and the bulls
enter the ring.
Although there are experienced bull handlers running along with the
bulls, they are completely loose and have their own free will within
the confines of the course. No one knows what the bulls will or
won't do. If a bull is in a foul mood, there is nothing to stop it
from charging a nearby runner. Traditionalists dress in white for
the bull runs and wear red ribbons and sashes to further tempt the
bulls into noticing them. And even if the bulls remain relatively
calm and don't charge anyone, they pose a serious threat to the
runners. If runners stumble and fall over each other in the
streets, the bulls aren't very likely to stand by docilely waiting
for the path to clear. Bulls, as a general rule, like to build up
momentum and run through whatever is in their way.
Once the bulls have run their course and made it into the bull ring,
specially trained bull handlers are charged with the job of
corralling the bulls into pens, but usually not before the bulls get
to take out their frustrations at the bewildering experience by
charging the crowds milling about in the ring at least once. (Bull
running tip: Carry a rolled up newspaper with you. If a bull
charges you run away as fast as you can while waving the paper out
to your side. Supposedly the bulls aim for the where they see the
most commotion.)
Though not as famous as the Pamplona bull runs, similar rituals are
held in just about every Spanish town. In the town of Toro they
place a bucket of wine in the center of the bullring, and only the
bravest will venture into the ring with the bulls for a quick drink
of wine. In the town of Carbajales they let 3 bulls out into the
countryside and the people of the town have to find some way to
round them up.
But why?
According to the Catholics of the region, Saint Fermin was martyred
in Pamplona by being dragged through the streets by raging bulls.
And ever since then, according to Catholic belief, the "hand of San
Fermin" protects the runners from the bulls' wrath. So to the
traditionalists, the Pamplona bull run is an act of faith. From
that beginning, the bull runs evolved over the centuries into a rite
of passage. It is said that in past centuries no self-respecting
woman in Pamplona would marry a man who had never run with the
bulls. Today women aren't nearly so demanding. But the annual bull
runs attract thrill seekers from around the world, even women, much
to the consternation of the local townspeople.
An act of faith, a rite of passage, a big thrill. Like any
tradition that survives 600 years, there are multiple reasons why
people participate. But the element common to everyone that runs
with the bulls is the desire to face danger. Whether the
participants are there to test their faith, win a girl's heart, or
get a big adrenaline rush, every single participant chooses to face
the bulls' unpredictable, brutal nature.
John Vinas has run with the bulls every year since he was 17, as he
puts it, "With the running of the bulls there is an incredible
amount of tension and excitement. If the bulls don't get you the
crowd will. Events spin out of your control. You cannot determine
the speed of the bulls or whether they are out to get you. The
streets are so crowded with people, you never know if the guy in
front of you will trip you up. There is a constant feeling that any
miscue can cause serious injury or even death."
And it has. Hardly a year goes by in which at least one person is
not injured enough to be hospitalized. People have died in the bull
runs. The most recent death occurred during the 1995 bull runs when
American Matthew Peter Tassio bled to death minutes after being
gored. The fact that emergency medical staff are standing by
doesn't lessen the danger.
But thousands and thousands of people travel to Pamplona to
participate every year. Anyone who wants to run with the bulls can.
There are no officials of any sort there to make sure you are
qualified to be on the streets with the bulls. There are no release
forms to sign. There are no qualifications. There is plenty of
opportunity for participants to change their mind about running, but
no one is turned away. When you enter the streets at Pamplona's
Rochapea Rampart, where the runs begin, you are taking your life
into your own hands. You and you alone are responsible for your
life during the 850 meter run.
But why? Why tempt fate? Why tempt God? Why tempt Nature?
The reason has little to do with success of failure in the bull run.
Those who are injured in the run suffer no less honor than those
that aren't. In fact friends and family of injured runners wear the
spilled "amigo blood" on their cheeks as a tribute to the runner's
bravery. No, it's not the end result of the run that's important,
but the run itself.
The adrenaline rush is a human necessity, not a frill. Human beings
need to know that they can handle the pressure when "events spin out
of control." And when we have become so civilized that these needs
aren't fulfilled, our culture invents ways to get them. Whether
it's running with the bulls, or jumping in a mosh pit, or starting a
revolution, or whatever; even if it's on a more humble scale, like
excelling at a sport, or venturing out on a crowded urban street at
night; even if there's no "rational" reason for it, like not wearing
motorcycle helmets or seatbelts; taking chances and facing danger
are a fundamental part of being human that can't be denied.
So the questions we ask ourselves should not be, "Why are these men
running with the bulls?" but "What sort of person would want to
stop them?"
Credits: Many thanks to John Vinas, Manuel Rodriguez, and Leo van
Hove for their stories and insights into the Festival of San Fermin.
Also thanks to New Media Publishing (http://www.spaincom.com/) for
their Web site about the Festival and to CyberAgentes
(http://www.eunet.es /InterStand/cyberagentes/cyber_14/s_fermin.htm)
from whose web site I got the picture on page 2. (which you can't
see in the e-mail edition!)
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Cultural Phenomena
Teamwork vs Working as a Team
Not too long ago, I was at out local airport to help some friends
out by picking them up and driving them home; and while I was
waiting for their plane to arrive, I learned a great lesson about
teamwork.
Our local airport is the Raleigh-Durham International. RDU isn't
the largest airport on the planet earth. It's just big enough to
have aspirations of developing into a big airport someday. The
terminals are always under construction and constantly being
revamped to remove any traces of local identity and give it that
big, universal bland look that all the big airports have. In the
terminal that my friends' flight was arriving at, there was so much
construction and such that the "gates" were right there on the
tarmac with the planes, If it weren't for the walls of glass, you
could almost reach out and touch the planes. I really enjoyed this
because I got to watch the plane arrival and the plane's attending
crew. .
As the plane rolled in, there was a crew of 5 waiting. I don't know
the official titles for each of these people's jobs, but I'll call
them the baggage handler, the parker, the greeter, and the two
cleaners. Everyone has their particular spot to stand. The parker
stands right where the pilot is supposed to point the nose of the
plane. The baggage guy sits on the baggage tractor off to the left,
about 20 yards away. The greeter stands by the controls of that
mobile hallway thingy that connects to the plane's door. And the
two cleaners stand beside and just behind the mobile hallway thingy.
Everyone is paying close attention. Everyone is serious.
As the plane rolls in, the parker waves those two orange sticks in
parallel to each other to tell the pilot to come straight on in.
Then, when the wheels of the plane are in just the right spot, the
parker crosses the orange sticks into an X. This signals the pilot
to put on the brakes. At this point everyone's attention focuses on
the parker's X, except for the baggage guy. The baggage guy sees
the X and then hops off the baggage tractor and uses these yellow
brick like things to chock the wheels. The parker is carefully
watching the baggage guy and he does not move the X sign until the
wheels are fully secured and the baggage guy has moved out of the
way. Then the parker folds the orange sticks together, and holds
them over his head horizontally. This signals the pilot that he
can release his brakes and shut down the plane. The greeter has
been watching all this intently and when the orange X goes away, he
knows it is safe to move the hallway thingy up to the door of the
plane. When the hallway thingy starts moving, the two cleaning
folks know that the plane has shut down enough that it is safe to
head toward the rear exit of the plane. Meanwhile the parker and
the baggage guy have moved the baggage tractor in place and started
to unload the luggage and the greeter opens the door and lets the
passengers off.
Now, this was not a monumental task that was accomplished. It
happens thousands of times everyday. But I was impressed that such
a plain task was so carefully orchestrated. And I could tell by the
way the crew acted that this was a highly scripted occasion.
Everyone had their responsibility. And everyone depended on each
other to do certain things at certain times. They were working as a
team.
For those of you who don't work in a corporate environment, you have
to understand that companies are constantly waging propaganda
campaigns to change our attitudes and make us better workers. I'm
sure they are sincere and well meaning, but after awhile, you've
heard so many company campaigns that you begin to tune them out.
Management trends come and go. Buzzwords come and go. In my
particular company, since I've worked there, we've had, "Total
Quality," "10X improvement," "Market Driven Quality," "ISO-9 000,"
and now "personal business commitments." But "teamwork" is the one
mantra that we never, ever stop hearing about.
But they have somehow gotten off track. The corporate idea of
"teamwork" is this warm fuzzy mutual support group sort of thing, no
doubt designed by a psychologist, in which everyone is responsible
for everything at all times, in which no one is supposed to worry
about the shortcomings of others, in which everyone is supposed to
make their egos subservient to the goals of the team, in which
everyone is supposed to do anything and everything to "get the job
done."
But it doesn't work that way. Teamwork is not picking up the slack
from your teammates when they fail. Teamwork is not _needing_ to
pick up the slack from your teammates. Teamwork is not where
everyone shares all the responsibilities, but where everyone has
clearly defined roles. Teamwork is where more of your personal ego
is invested in the project rather than less. As a passenger on the
plane, which version of teamwork would you want the ground crew
practicing?
===================================
True Story
Shakespeare Goes Goth
From the Life-Imitates-Art Department with more than a little help
from the Surrealists Association thrown in for good measure, here's
a true story that happened to me just a few weeks ago.
I had gone out to eat dinner with my neighbors and good friends, the
Haslups. And afterwards, we decided that we would stop by the video
store next door and rent a movie or two to watch. So we all trooped
into the Video Bar to pick out a movie. But having just gorged
myself at an all-you-can-eat Chinese buffet, I wasn't much in the
mood for walking around the video store. I was too stuffed! This
particular video store had sort of a waiting area off to the side
for the employees or whatever. So Irene, her son Chris, and I sat
down at the table while her husband Lee went off in search of
movies.
Naturally we started talking about movies. Chris and I got
sidetracked into a discussion about the movie, "The Crow" since
there is a sequel coming out this summer. This led into a
discussion about the difference between the Goth (or Gothic) scene
and the Punk scene. Chris didn't understand that in "The Crow" the
good guys are gothics, while the bad guys are punks, so I was trying
to explain the difference.
For a quick Cliff's notes version of subculture taxonomy, let's just
say, for the purposes of discussion, that the Punks are the angry,
violent, social misfits that listen to noise that sometimes, but not
usually, resembles music. Goths are the brooding, pale,
dressed-in-black tragic looking folks that always look like they've
just had a death in the family, if not their own. They listen to
mournful, ethereal dance music and only come out at night. Perhaps
the one accoutrement that the Punks and the Goths have in common is
that they tend to pierce their bodies with metal studs. Maybe
that's why people confuse the two.
Anyway, this was just normal, idle conversation to pass the time.
No big deal, nothing unusual. But I was a little frustrated because
Chris wasn't really following what I was trying to say about the
Goths.
And then I noticed this book. It was sitting there on the table
where we were.. It was a thin brown book that looked like it had
come from the back shelves of a library. It looked old and had one
of those built in ribbon bookmarks in it marking a page in the book.
Well, I couldn't resist. I picked up the book without even reading
the title and opened it to the marked page. And it turned out that
the book was the collected sonnets of William Shakespeare and the
ribbon was marking Sonnet #127, which due to some bizarre
synchronicity, perfectly captures the Gothic attitude:
In the old age black was not counted fair,
Or if it were, it bore not beauty's name;
But now is black beauty's successive heir,
And beauty slander'd with a bastard shame:
For since each hand hath put on nature's power,
Fairing the foul with art's false borrow'd face,
Sweet beauty hath no name, no holy bower,
But is profaned, if not lives in disgrace.
Therefore my mistress' brows are raven black,
Her eyes so suited, and they mourners seem
At such who, not born fair, no beauty lack,
Slandering creation with a false esteem:
Yet so they mourn, becoming of their woe,
That every tongue says beauty should look so.
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About Stuck In Traffic
Stuck In Traffic is a monthly magazine dedicated to evaluating
current events, examining cultural phenomena, and relating true
stories.
Why "Stuck In Traffic"?
Because getting stuck in traffic is good for you. It's an
opportunity to think, ponder, and reflect on all things, from the
personal to the global. As Robert Pirsig wrote in _Zen and the Art
of Motorcycle Maintenance_, "Let's consider a reevaluation of the
situation in which we assume that the stuckness now occurring, the
zero of consciousness, isn't the worst of all possible situations,
but the best possible situation you could be in. After all, it's
exactly this stuckness that Zen Buddhists go to so much trouble to
induce...."
Submissions:
Submissions to Stuck In Traffic are always welcome. If you have
something on your mind or a personal story you'd like to share,
please do. You don't have to be a great writer to be published
here, just sincere.
Contact Information:
All queries, submissions, subscription requests, comments, and
hate-mail about Stuck In Traffic should be sent to Calvin Stacy
Powers preferably via E-mail (powers@interpath.com) or by mail (2012
Talloway Drive, Cary, NC USA 27511).
Copyright Notice:
Stuck In Traffic is published and copyrighted by Calvin Stacy Powers
who reserves all rights. Individual articles are copyrighted by
their respective authors. Unsigned articles are authored by Calvin
Stacy Powers.
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