Columns

Knockin' on Heaven's Doors

I find myself missing the row of multicolored doors that used to stand alongside the Epworth United Methodist Church on Hopkins Street. A celebration of the LGBTQ movement, the artwork was accompanied by a message that read: "God's Doors Are Open to All."

The display has been gone for several months now. I remember crossing the street one day and discovering that the doors, in fact, could not be opened—none of them were equipped with doorknobs.

I guess, that's the way the Bible (and St. Peter) would have it. If you want to be admitted to Heaven, you have to knock first. 

SIgns of the Times: Tresses in Distress 

The sign in the front window of the five-star Hair salon on the 1700 block of Solano Avenue is still glowing brightly but the salon itself is dark. Sharing the front window, below the glowing, neon word "Hair," is a wry, hand-printed sign that reads: "Salons will be allowed to reopen once we've all gone bald from the stress of it all." 

A Hot New Plague: The Fryingpandemic 

Has it been hot enough for you this week? Well, according to several new scientific reports, it's only going to get worse. The National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration reports that sea temperatures have increased to the point that whales, sea turtles, and other ocean animals are fleeing north in search of cooler waters. "Thermal displacement" has driven some desperate maritime creatures to relocate a thousand miles from their traditional habitats. 

The situation is no better on land. The National Bureau of Economic Research (NBER) predicts that failure to curb greenhouse gas (GHG) pollution will push global temperatures to the point that "unbearable heat" will become lethal—in rich and poor nations alike. The NBER predicts this disturbing (but largely ignored) increase in heat-related mortalities could soon become the leading cause of deaths worldwide—exceeding the number of deaths from all global infections combined. 

"Green Hydrogen" to the Rescue 

Burning coal, gas, and oil to create electricity is no longer sustainable. Fortunately, there is an attractive new alternative to "decarbonizing" Earth's energy needs—"Green Hydrogen" (GH). Thanks to the increasing numbers of more-efficient and less-costly wind and solar energy plants, the process of using electrolysis to separate water molecules into oxygen and hydrogen has accelerated the promise of GH-powered economies. 

Germany, Britain, Australia, Japan, Portugal, and The Netherlands have all announced plans to transition to GH power. Meanwhile, the Trump Misadministration continues to promote coal mining, gas extraction, oil drilling, and increased carbon pollution. 

The European Union has embraced GH power as essential to attaining its European Green Deal goal of eliminating all GHG by 2050. The European Commission has called GH "a priority area" for meeting Green Deal goals. The International Energy Agency has called GH one of the decade's "breakout technologies." 

Harvesting hydrogen with electricity from clean, renewable energy currently costs around three times as much as using electricity from fossil-fuel-powered generators but increasing efficiencies and falling costs promise to make "Clean Hydrogen" cheaper than carbon-dependent "Black Hydrogen" within a few decades. 

Andronico's Return: Sort Of 

Many of us have had this experience (and, with the ongoing pandemic it's only going to increase): You head over to a favorite store, shop, or restaurant, only to find it suddenly, inexplicably, irretrievably shuttered. A major landmark in your life has become a memory. 

Over my years in Berkeley, I've seen it happen many times: without warning, a place that I've visited so often that I could sketch a detailed floor plan from memory, goes missing. It's like a sudden death in the family. 

I can remember when there was a COOP Auto Garage on University Avenue. I can remember when there was a COOP grocery store on Shattuck. (That store later became an Andronico's outlet—until it was transformed into a Safeway in 2017.) 

But recently, something unusual occurred. 

Twice. 

In February of this year, the Safeway at 1550 Shattuck suddenly morphed back into an Andronico's while the Safeway on Solano (the location of the original Andronico's founded by Frank and Eva Andronico in 1929) was reincarnated as the Andronico's Community Market. (A third Andronico's on Telegraph Avenue closed in 2011.) 

(As it turned out, this was mainly a matter of Safeway "rebranding" two properties it still owns. According to press reports, Safeway acted without consulting the Andronico family.) 

It's OSH, By Gosh! 

And then there's OSH, the former Orchard Supply Hardware store on Ashby Street in West Berkeley. 

On August 22, 2018, Orchard Supply announced it was closing all its stores. This was a big shock since we'd been making regular OSH-stops for years. OSH was where we went whenever we needed to paint a wall, build a piece of furniture, repair the plumbing, replace a broken salad bowl, or find a gardening tool. We always knew where to look for exactly what we needed. And then there was the spacious outdoor patio filled with potted plants and gardening supplies. 

So it was an unexpected surprise—near-shy of a miracle—when OSH reappeared in January of this year. The new operation—Outdoor Supply Hardware—not only revived the original "OSH" title, it also preserved the store's basic layout. Upon entering, we knew exactly where to go to find the power tools, the food containers, the storage cabinets, and the garden rakes. 

What a rare experience, to lose something real and to be left with nothing but memories—and then to see the past recovered, in exacting detail. As a large sign outside the building put it: "We're back in the neighborhood and it just feels right." 

So who's to thank for this unusual commercial resurrection—a store restored? The Central Network Retail Group (CNRG). The company's abbreviation, CNRG, couldn't be more apropos. CNRG could be license-plate-code for "synergy" and, magically enough, the definition of that word is: "the interaction or cooperation of two or more organizations, substances, or other agents to produce a combined effect greater than the sum of their separate effects." 

The Internet of . . . Whatever 

BigTelecom's Lords of Interconnection love to promote the wonders that will follow from the introduction of The Internet of Things—homes that study and record everything human homeowners are doing and not doing while "improving" their lives with "smart" devices like fridges that tell you when to toss out the old broccoli and microchipped diapers that send a electronic alerts when they need to be changed. These arguments in favor of "smartifying" modern life have prompted some skeptics to re-dub this promotional onslaught as "The Internet of Things No One Asked for and Nobody Really Needs." 

Now the Sunday Chronicle's forward-looking Throughline supplement has offered another less-than-convincing reason to embrace the life-changing revolution that is the IOT. In it's August 9 edition, the Chron asked Linda Gurll, the director of San Francisco's Department of Technolgy, for an example of the wonders that people could look forward to with the advent of expanded broadband fiber connectivity. Gurll's response: "Imagine a day when the Internet Of Things extends to your garbage bin, so that sanitation crews know exactly where trash is piling up and can deploy resources accordingly." 

Do Ants Sleep? 

It used to be that a heavy winter downpour would be followed by an invasion of ants flooded out of their homes and forced to forage in the cupboards of the nearest human habitats. But this has been a dry year, with little rain, and here it is—in the middle of summer—and we've got ants popping up—day and night—in our cupboards, in cereal boxes, on counter tops, in bathroom sinks and on toilet tops. 

While it's all a bit annoying, this antagonistic aversion to the anarchic antics of ants ("anti-antism"?) raises a few novel questions, including: "Do ants ever sleep?" 

The answer is a qualified "yes." According to the BBC, the queen ant gets to snooze nine hours a day while the worker ants have to get by on less than half of that down time. But it gets worse. It turns out the workers are so much in demand that they are only allowed to take occasional "power naps" that seldom last more than a minute. That factors out to around 250 nap-breaks in a day. Researchers have found that, even the queens don't get a full night's rest. Like the workers, the queens' nine hours of insect slumber are the total of as many as 60 separate six-minute naps taken over the course of a day. 

How can you tell if a queen is just dozing? According to The Journal of Insect Behavior, if they are just nodding off, "their antennae [are] half raised and their mouths agape," while if they are in a deep sleep, "their antennae [are] retracted and mouths closed," and, if they begin to "quiver," that's a sign they may have entered a "dreaming" state. (So far, insect scientists have no idea what ants may be dreaming.) 

While worker ants can live as long as six months (baring an encounter with a human thumb or a blast of Orange Oil) some ant queens are known to have reigned for as long as 45 years. 

A Moment at Heathrow 

Last year, before air travel was grounded by the coronavirus, we found ourselves waiting with a crowd of other travelers at London's Heathrow Airport. As I looked around, I spotted a mischievous youngster who was teasing his dad, much to the amusement of both. After watching their smiles and facial mugging for a few moments, I noticed the boy was using American Sign Language. 

I took a closer look and discovered the boy's father, mother, and sister were also all signing away, in a graceful, fun-filled, loving and totally silent conversation. They never spoke a word but their bonding spoke volumes. They continued joking and jesting to pass the time. Mother and daughter amused one another by taking selfies while wearing an inflatable neck cushion (1) on their heads like a Princess Crown, (2) a rubbery wig, and (3) a smartly titled cap that evoked the headwear of the British Royals. All this levity and never a word was needed. 

I wondered how it happened that a whole family wound up sharing this so-called "disability," They were such a wonder, I found myself wishing they might become the focus of a BBC documentary. 

I found this related video online. It gave me some more insight into what it's like to be part of a "deaf family." One problem I hadn't considered: it's a challenge to carry on a conversation when you're driving the family car. 

Meals a la MEA 

The flight from Heathrow marked the first time we traveled on Middle Eastern Airlines (MEA). We immediately noticed some improvements over flying United. Instead of the array of plastic food containers used by US carriers, MEA's friendly red-suited flight attendants brought food in paper boxes. On US airlines, a vegetarian meal generally translates as "pasta." On MEA, it meant a veggie sandwich with fresh lettuce, tomatoes, mushrooms and a large, unpeeled orange. Real finger-food that you have to peel with your own real fingers! We had to give MEA one "eco-ding," however: The orange juice came in a plastic cup. 

MEA Culpa 

As our flight continued over Austria, Greece, and Turkey, we noticed another contrast with flying United. MEA's in-flight magazine was basically a perfect-bound collection of commercial advertising—front-to-back. Even the cover featured a commercial—a full-page ad for Dolce & Gabbana. 

So, when I saw the Table of Contents promised "Articles for Kids" I yelped with enthusiasm: "Look! They've got special section with stories for children! What a great idea!" 

But, when I checked the section, I discovered it was devoted to the following "articles": Disney Princess Dolls ($20), Barbie Make-up Kits ($15) and Spiderman Watches ($50). 

There also was a full-page ad for IQOS, described as a "heat-not-burn smoke-free" vaping device that the promoters claimed was being used by "close to 7.3 million smokers around the world." So who's behind IQOS? According to the very small type: "Phillip Morris International Services." 

Shake-up in the Postal Service 

I think I know what caused the 5.1-magnitude quake that shook the East Coast on August 9. It was triggered by Founding Father Ben Franklin spinning in his grave. 

Franklin, the first US Postmaster General, just got word that this cherished position has been handed over to Louis DeJoy, a GOP fundraiser and Trump loyalist. 

No only is DeJoy the first postmaster general in nearly 20 years with no USPS experience, he also enters the office with a major conflict of interest—according to the Washington Post, DeJoy and his wife have invested as much as $75.3 million in the some of the Postal Service's leading competitors, including United Parcel Service and JB Hunt Trucking! 

Like other Trump appointees (cf. Andrew Wheeler at the Environmental Protection Agency and William Perry Pendley at the Bureau of Land Management), DeJoy's mission is to destroy the very agency he's been appointed to head. 

Fearful that voting-by-mail could increase the number of anti-Trump votes in November's election, Trump has set DeJoy loose to sabotage the Postal Service by slashing overtime, ordering a freeze on hiring, removing mail-sorting equipment, leaving mail to languish in distribution centers for days, slowing delivery of "crucial services," and replacing seasoned administrators with new, inexperienced managers. 

Here's a petition you might want to sign: Remove Trump's Postmaster General 

Signing Off 

One of the benefits of becoming a news network anchor is that you get to introduce your own personal "sign-off"—a memorable catchphrase at the end of the broadcast. Walter Cronkite was famous for his signature sign-off: "And that's the way it is." And then there was Edward R. Morrow's "Good night and good luck." Charles Osgood, who was a welcome presence on two different media platforms, had this salutation for his TV viewers: "See you on the radio." On NBC, every Huntley-Brinkley Report ended with the collegial exchange: "Good night, Chet. Good night, David." When Dan Rather took over for Cronkite, he chose to sign-off with "And that's a part of our world." Hugh Downs and Barbara Walters took turns telling their ABC audiences "We're in touch, so you be in touch." 

NBC's Lester Cook recently has been closing his Pandemic Era newscasts with the phrase: "Take care of yourself… and each other." But the strangest parting words now live on air come from the anchor for Deutsche Welle's English language newscasts (on Channel 22) who closes each newscast with the observation: "From now 'til then, remember: Tomorrow is another day."