The National Park Service is always screaming and whining that it doesn't have enough money to "protect" the precious natural resources of our parklands. Several years ago Arches was threatening to shut down the Devils Garden Campground and suspend tours of the Fiery Furnace for "lack of funds." But recently some huge appropriations bills passed by Congress have sent millions of dollars to the parks, including Arches and here is what we get.
Look at the picture...
If I recall correctly, the NPS allocated something like $450,000 for trail improvement at my old place of employment. Why? I couldn't tell you. I can remember that back in 1985, as a seasonal ranger, the field rangers went ballistic over a plan to spend a (now) mere $60,000 to "rehabilitate"" the Devils Garden Trail. We could not, for the life of us, see the purpose of hauling and distributing 700 truck loads of rock and gravel along the trail to Landscape Arch, a trail that seemed more than adequate to us and to the park visitors. But that's what we did for three months.
Now after seeing the Eighth Wonder of the World (in progress) at the Windows section of the park, the old Devils Garden rehab project seems quaint by comparison.
The Park Service has hauled thousands of tons of cut and quarried rock from somewhere else (I hope) and built a veritable Stairway to Hell. It is incredible. Words fail me. I am stunned.
Look at the picture again.
And obviously they are not through yet. An enormous cache of quarried rock is piled up along the trail, to be used for the "next phase" of the trail reconstruction project.
And here is a special touch of irony. By building stairs, they have eliminated access for persons confined to wheelchairs. I got a call from a woman last summer who was furious about the steps because she believed it was a violation of the American Disabilities Act, and for all I know, she may be right. The caller was confident she could shut down the project in its tracks.
The poor woman I thought to myself...she doesn't know what she is up against. The NPS would never admit to a mistake while there was still time to correct it. No...they'll finish their steps and then request funding to build a concrete wheel chair-accessible ramp next to the stairway.
And why is the NPS using all this money to build extravagant trails instead of on salaries and wages for rangers and interpreters? I have heard it a thousand times. "Well, you see," the bureaucrat explains patiently, "these monies are for capital improvement projects. We can't use them to hire more staff."
This is the lame lament of every park administrator I've had the misfortune to speak with for 20 years. If all these park managers went to Congress and said, "We don't NEED quarried stone trails to Turret Arch, trails that may outlast the arches themselves," then maybe...MAYBE something would change. But what GS-12 or GS-14 is going to step on toes to do something as logical as that?
Gee whiz, I miss working for the government.
So I got this new computer and went "online" and Carl Anderson put together a web site for me and I started emailing people. I was able to embrace this new technology and even like it a little. I've actually 'met' a few new friends through cyberspace. My new buddy Vano from Tblisi in the Republic of Georgia requested a Zephyr after finding my web site and I mailed him a copy. A month later he scanned and emailed a photograph of himself reading the Zephyr. Incredible. If I could only figure out how to print a hard copy I'd publish Vano in the next Z as Reader of the Month.
But then I went too far. I tried to buy some videos through a company called shopping.com. Do not go near shopping.com. I have embraced technology more than they have.
I found their site on the web, their prices were great and so I decided to give them a try. I placed the order, pushed all the right buttons, my order was confirmed, and I waited for my package of eight movies on video to arrive. Now I knew that some of them might take longer and so I wasn't all that surprised when the order came and there was only one video. The shipping invoice said the remaining videos had been backordered.
I waited patiently for three weeks and then decided to email them for an estimated time of video arrival. I sent the email to the address shown on the invoice and the email came back as "undeliverable." I double-checked the address...I was right.
So I tried to call their "24 hour, toll-free number." I tried 75 times. Busy. Busy every time. Was this an indication of other dissatisfied customers I wondered? So I decided to wait until later at night when the traffic wouldn't be so heavy. The phone rang (YES!) and I got a recorded message: "Our business hours are from 8 am to 6:30 pm, Monday through Friday. If you'd like to leave a message, one of our customer service representatives will call you tomorrow."
What the...? So I waited for the beep and prepared myself to stay as calm as possible. But after the beep, another recorded voice said, "The voice mail box is full. Please try another again later."
About now I was beginning to feel like the Michael Douglas character in the film "Falling Down," which I obviously would never be able to order from these fat heads. Finally I went to the web site and found another email address. I sent them a fairly reasonable account of my difficulties and waited for their sympathetic reply. The email did not come back as undeliverable, but...
Nothing.
I sent a more pointed email.
No reply.
I called them a bunch of names and threatened to report them to the authorities. I told them to cancel my order. I advised them that I would be including their pathetic little company in my "What's Lame" article for the acclaimed and well-read Zephyr.
Not a damn word. Two weeks later, six of the eight videos arrived, but they arrived separately. The accumulated shipping charges ate up the savings I would have realized over other more reputable companies.
Now, almost two months after falling victim to shopping.CON, I am a wiser but sadder man, adjusting to the realities of cyberspace. If any of you choose to email me with condolences or expressions of sympathy (or empathy) please, be gentle.
What has it been? Ten years? since Moab put together a sign ordinance that was supposed to preserve the rural and quaint character of Downtown Moab? How were we supposed to do that? Moab has never been quaint. And Main Street has always been ugly. But we have this sign ordinance and the city seems hell-bent on selectively enforcing it. Some businesses get nasty letters from the city attorney threatening law suits and fines, and other businesses get a slap on the wrist. Or less.
Now I am all for keeping big ugly signs off Main Street. And I am grateful that there are height restrictions too. Otherwise we might have huge placards strung across the cliffs near the Portal promoting chairlifts and curio shops. But when our compliance officer pops a cork over one too many banners on a store front, I just want to say, "Debbie...bless your pointy little head, but why don't you take a nerve pill and calm down some? This isn't a personal crusade. In the whole crazy scheme of things, it's just not worth getting upset about."
Let's all try to love one another and get along with each other and be happy.
(My god, I just sounded like a Janet Lowe story in the "Moab Happenings.")
In any case, one little banner hanging above a store front really doesn't upset me. Lighten up, Moab City...or don't you guys have anything better to do?
Is it any wonder we're getting on each other's nerves? The population of the United States is approaching (or may have even exceeded by now) 270 million people. That is 110 million more Americans than we had just 50 short years ago. But consider these new projections by the government:
By the year 2050, the U.S. population will have grown to 394 million, a 50% increase over today's population. That is 124 million more people than live in the U.S. in 1999. Mind boggling.
Is the government doing anything at all to confront this threat? They (and WE) are like the story I heard recently.
A man with a microphone was doing street interviews on the topic of over-population with passersby. So he stopped a man and asked the question: "If you woke up tomorrow morning and discovered the world was so-overpopulated that there was no place to even stand, what would you do?"
The man replied, "I'd go back to bed."
I would like to come to the defense of my gender. We guys have been beaten up for long enough. Stop the stereotyping. Stop the bashing. Some of us, at least, deserve better.
In the media, particularly in commercials, men are portrayed as idiots and morons who could not find their way out of a paper bag. I was listening to the radio the other day. It was a tire commercial...the guy was too stupid to even select the best value in a damn tire. It was his level-headed female companion who knew a good tire when she saw one.
Now I am not questioning the ability of women to choose good tires. I'm saying that if you reversed the roles in that little radio ad, women would be ricocheting off the walls.
And the bashing gets worse. A year or so ago I was visiting a friend in a town north of here. One day I joined her female friends for a cup of coffee at a cafe and listened to the most extraordinary conversation. There was a bowl of walnuts on the table and the nutcracker was of a rather unusual design. One of the women noted that the device could be used to remove more than walnut shells. Both physically and mentally, I found myself assuming a defensive posture. The women were all having a good laugh as they passed the "device" around the table.
Finally, at great risk to life and certain parts of my anatomy, I complained to the assembled group of would-be testicle removers. "I'm just curious," I said, "but what if this table was occupied by five men and one woman? And what if we guys were toying with some kind of device that could be used to mutilate parts of a woman's anatomy? Would it still be funny?"
There was a pause. Then one of the women said defiantly, "Look men have been saying stuff like this for thousands of years. It's about time you got a little of your own medicine."
"Oh I see," I replied. "So you want to exhibit the same qualities that you detest the most in men. Well what could be more logical than that?"
The party broke up and later, to their credit, some of the women privately told me they agreed with my complaint.
Look...there are still thousands, maybe millions of brain-dead men out there who treat women like so much property, who mentally and physically abuse women every hour of the day. They are a disgrace to my gender and I don't think any punishment is severe enough for that kind of brutal behavior.
But there are a lot of us guys who are not like that. It never occurs to us to treat women as anything but our equals. But we are different. We're guys. You're...there, you see? I am afraid to write anything but 'women.' If I were to write gals, I'd be waiting for someone to come at me with a nutcracker.
It doesn't have to be like that. We are your friends. We're on your side. Give us a break, huh?
