Home Again: 42*19’N,83*02’W

Detroit, Michigan:  I was born in the summer of 1963 at the New Grace Hospital on Detroit’s northwest side.  (The hospital was demolished long ago and is now the site of the only Home Depot within the city limits.)

I spent my first five years living in a quiet neighborhood not far from the hospital.  In 1967, all hell broke loose in Detroit.  My parents hoped that life eventually would return to normal, but the riots changed the city forever, and in 1968 we moved to nearby Southfield.  Our new house in suburbia was only seven miles away from our old one in Detroit, but in reality we had moved to a whole new world.

Even as a kid I was interested in current events, so I knew that the 1970’s were not kind to Detroit, nor to the automobile industry, which was the backbone of the city’s economy.  I knew that inflation, oil prices, rampant crime, racial tensions and Vietnam all were taking their toll on my hometown. Still, I have fond memories of growing up in the Detroit area.   Although we lived in the suburbs, we had our reasons to venture back into the city:  baseball games at Tiger Stadium, Downtown Detroit Days at Hudson’s and Crowley’s department stores (new clothes for the school year), giant hamburgers at Carl’s Chop House on Grand River, feeding the ducks on Belle Isle or in Palmer Park, Jewish High Holiday services at Temple Beth El on Gladstone, and driving down Woodward Avenue to see the magnificent Christmas lights.

After leaving the area in 1977, I spent four years in dour Milwaukee, my college years in vibrant Minneapolis, and twenty wonderful years in Washington, D.C.  I am now very happy to call northern California home.  I periodically return to Detroit for various family events and to visit my grandmother.   When I visit with my parents and sisters --  all of whom are now in California -- we always take a trip down memory lane.  We get in the car and drive through our old neighborhoods in Detroit and Southfield, and make the trek down Woodward Avenue all the way to its foot at the intersection with Jefferson Avenue on the banks of the Detroit River.  For my parents especially, these trips are both nostalgic and depressing, and remind us that Detroit, and what Detroit use to be, is a faint memory.

Detroit once was a shining example of a vibrant U.S. economy.  During World War II this “arsenal of democracy” helped to arm an emerging superpower and its allies in the fight against tyrannical fascism.  In the post-war era, Detroit put America and much of the world on wheels.  In doing so it created seemingly boundless prosperity for all, but the good times did not last long.  Today, Detroit is the poster child for the decline in manufacturing, the indifference of political and business leaders, and the dangers of rampant crime and poor urban planning. 

Detroit's downward spiral has been long and painful.  The city’s population peaked at nearly 2 million in the early 1950s at the same time that domestic auto production hit an all-time high.  By 1960, the Detroit automakers were facing stiff competition from their German and Japanese counterparts.  Moreover, technology was taking its toll as automation began replacing assembly line workers.  By 1961, Chrysler, once the city's biggest employer, had dropped 80,000 workers from its payroll.  At the height of the 1958 recession, Detroit’s unemployment rate hit 20%, and although the employment picture brightened in the early 1960s, as early as 1961, the United States Department of Labor listed Detroit as “an area of substantial and persistent unemployment.'' 

The 1967 riots were a critical juncture in Detroit’s history and the point of no return. They began on my 4th birthday -- Saturday, July 22, 1967.  That night police raided an unlicensed, after-hours bar on the city's near west side.  The Detroit police expected to find only two dozen people inside the bar, but instead were confronted by nearly 100 people celebrating the return of two local Vietnam War veterans.  The police decided to arrest everyone in the attendance.  A crowd soon gathered around the establishment to protest as patrons were led away.  As dawn broke on July 23^rd, this one raid had evolved into one of the deadliest and most destructive riots in American history. 

Although most of the riot activity occurred in localized areas around Woodward Avenue (the city’s main north-south thoroughfare), on East Grand Boulevard and on Michigan Avenue near Tiger Stadium, the whole city was affected.  During the five days of rioting a citywide curfew was enacted, sales of alcohol and firearms were prohibited, and downtown businesses shut down as civil unrest engulfed sections of the city.

Governor George Romney ordered the Michigan National Guard into Detroit, and President Lyndon B. Johnson sent in Army troops. The result was 443 dead, 467 injured, over 7,200 arrests, and more than 2,000 buildings destroyed by fire and looting.

The city itself, however, was the biggest casualty. The damage was long-term and permanent. The riots put the city on the fast track to social and economic devastation.  And unlike other rust belt cities, such as Pittsburgh and Cleveland, which have seen at least a partial renaissance, Detroit never recovered and I fear it never will.   Jobs, services, tax dollars, investment dollars, tourism dollars and development dollars fled the city along with thousands and thousands of citizens.   

The exodus from Detroit started in the early 1960s, but became frantic after the riots, and hit its peak in 1968, when my family gave up on Detroit and moved to Southfield.  And it wasn’t just a white exodus, Detroit’s large black middle class also left the city in large numbers. The city is now home to only 713,000 residents, and nearly half of them live below the national poverty rate.  Today, the city’s unemployment rate tops 30%, although local leaders believe that the actual rate is closer to 50% because many of Detroit’s residents stopped looking for jobs a long time ago.

One reason for the high unemployment is that businesses are not willing to take a chance on a city that is noted for political corruption and cronyism, high crime and deteriorating infrastructure.  I noted at the beginning that there is one Home Depot within Detroit’s city limits; however, don’t go looking for a large grocery store.  National grocery store chains have given up on the city – there is not one Safeway, Kroger, A&P or Whole Foods in Detroit.  City residents must either shop in the suburbs or at independent stores that constantly struggle to remain in business.

I was in Detroit with my mother last weekend to visit my grandmother, who is celebrating her 101^st birthday this month.  Grandma was born in downstate Illinois, and like so many of her generation, migrated with her parents and six brothers to Detroit in the 1920’s because it offered greater economic opportunity.  In her lifetime she has seen Detroit’s boom and its bust.

To celebrate her birthday, my mother and I took grandma shopping and out for a nice lunch at a suburban shopping mall.  Afterward, I got in the car by myself and took my own trip down memory lane.  I drove up Telegraph Road to Pontiac, and then swung south onto Woodward Avenue for the 31-mile trip to downtown Detroit.  And although I passed through some beautiful suburban areas, with sparkling lakes and beautiful houses, this particular trip down memory lane was more of a study in urban blight.  Once I passed the Detroit Zoo at Woodward and 10 Mile Road – still two miles outside the city limits -- the landscape turned dreary and desolate.  As I ventured closer to downtown I felt like I was driving through a war zone and witnessing the destructive aftermath of a fierce battle.  In reality, I was passing through a dead city, which has suffered for decades from political mismanagement and societal neglect.  When I finally returned to my hotel back in pristine West Bloomfield, I was more than ready to pack my bags and fly home to California.

To those of us who are part of the Detroit diaspora, Thomas Wolfe is right, “you can’t go home again.”  And sadly, I don’t think many of us would want to.

A Country Divided: 37*57' N, 126*40' E

I wrote the following in February at 38,000 feet as I jetted my way from Seoul to Frankfurt. I had spent two full days in Korea — part of a week long, round-the-world excursion. This is a long post.

Korean DMZ:  A friend of mine recently asked me why I am so fascinated with Asia and eastern cultures. A number of reasons came to mind. For a westerner like me, Asia is exotic and mysterious. Everything about Asian culture, from its philosophies to its food to its languages, is so different from my own. Of course, Japan and Korea outdo the West when it comes to raw consumerism and expansive infrastructure. Tokyo and Seoul are a shoppers’ paradise. From high-end designer fashion in glittering urban malls to street vendors in expansive outdoor markets, there is something for everyone. Moreover, people in both cities (Tokyo more so) always seem to be on the go. Train lines that rumble through massive stations, crisscrossing subway lines, elevated expressways, buses and taxis operate day and night transporting massive numbers of people to home, work, school and play. As someone who always likes to be moving, I could spend hours just watching the people come and go at Shinjuku Station in Tokyo or at the Seoul Central Station.

Seoul, the capital of South Korea, has a metropolitan population of 25 million people. In fact, it is the second largest urban center in the world (after Tokyo). Seoul — a vibrant, cosmopolitan, international city — is only 40 miles south of the border with North Korea. Known as the “hermit kingdom,” North Korea is a closed, totalitarian society. In every way imaginable, it is the antithesis of South Korea. The North (supported by China) and South (supported by the United States) have been fighting a civil war since 1950. The two sides agreed to a ceasefire in 1953, but never signed a peace treaty. From time-to-time over the past 48 years, tensions have flared up between the two sides. In 2010, North Korea was especially aggressive; it attacked a South Korean submarine early in the year and, in its most aggressive move since 1953, bombed Yeonpyeong Island in November. Two South Korean soldiers were killed and countless civilians were wounded.

There is a massive police and military presence throughout Seoul. On many occasions over a two-day period I saw large groups of soldiers walking in loose formation in various parts of the city. Everywhere I went there are reminders that Seoul is always on guard against an invasion from the North. In all of the subway stations, for instance, there are cabinets stocked with emergency gas masks in anticipation of a chemical attack in the underground. On the subway cars themselves, video screens, which play mostly advertisements and movie trailers, also have short vignettes on what to do in case someone sets off a gas attack in a subway car. These gruesome, but strangely humorous videos, are complete with actors foaming at the mouth.

Not surprisingly, there is a large American military presence in South Korea. In the hotel, I tuned into the Armed Forces Network (for programming in English), which broadcast military public service announcements warning against the dangers of North Korean spies and computer hackers.

Despite the fear about possible aggression from the North, there is a profound sense of hope among the South Koreans that one day the two Koreas will be reunified. After all, the North Koreans and South Koreans are the same people. Families in the South still have relatives living in the North, but are unable to see them or speak with them.

A little history. Japan occupied Korea until its defeat at the end of World War II. At the Potsdam Conference in 1945, the victorious allies decided to split the country in two — with a communist North, supported by the USSR, and a capitalist South, supported by the USA. In 1950, the North launched an invasion and was almost successful in capturing the entire Korean peninsula. This, of course, was during the height of the Cold War, and the United States could not allow the communists to gain a larger foothold in Asia, especially after the successful revolution that brought Chairman Mao to power in China in 1949. So America entered the war (under the auspices of the United Nations) and drove the communists all the way back to the Yalu River — North Korea’s border with China. Mao could not fathom sharing a border with an American-backed regime, so he committed one million Chinese troops to fight for the North. Eventually, the two sides came to a stalemate at the 38th parallel and agreed to a ceasefire in 1953. Technically, North and South Korea are still at war.

Under the terms of the 1953 ceasefire agreement, the United Nations established a 10 Km wide demilitarized zone (DMZ) between the two countries. In the middle of the DMZ is the demarcation line that serves as the official border. When the two sides want to meet, they do so in a small stand-alone conference room in an area known as the Joint Security Area (JSA). The demarcation line runs directly through the conference room. The highlight of my trip to Korea was a trip to the DMZ and the JSA, and the brief chance to step across the border into North Korea.

I originally booked the trip through the USO, but received a message when I arrived in Seoul that my tour was cancelled due to a lack of participants. Fortunately, the USO rebooked me on a tour operated by the Japan Travel Bureau. I arrived at the JTB office at 9:00 a.m. and was informed that I was the only English speaker on the tour. So for the entire day, I had my own English-speaking guide.

We left Seoul at 9:30 a.m. and headed north to the village of Musan where we made a brief stop at the Unification Park. The park includes a number of monuments to South Korean war heroes, as well as one memorial to the 18 journalists killed during combat operations. After a brief lunch, we headed toward the DMZ. Eventually, we ended up at Camp Bonifas, which is only 400 meters south of the DMZ and is the main military base along the border. Most of the soldiers assigned to Camp Bonifas (a U.N. installation) are Korean, although about 400 American soldiers are stationed there as well. After signing a waiver accepting all responsibility for any incidents that might occur during our visit — including death due to combat operations — an American solider provided us with our briefing. He told us a bit about the Korean War and the 1953 cease fire agreement, and then told us the rules for our journey into the DMZ and our visit to the JSA.

1. No photographs permitted, except when authorized by the military escort.
2. No standing up in the bus at any time.
3. No blue jeans permitted (we were told this ahead of time, but not given a reason). No military-type clothing permitted on civilians.
4. When at the JSA, no pointing or gesturing toward the North Korean soldiers. He explained that the North Koreans would be taking pictures of us and that if we waved or made any gestures, we could be used as propaganda tools.
5. No cell phone or PDAs allowed in the JSA 
6. All persons entering the JSA are required to wear visible United Nations tags at all time.

He warned us that we were about to enter an active military zone and that while the chances of anything dangerous happening were low, the North Koreans are unpredictable and that our military escort would do everything in its power to protect us. He was not joking or being dramatic.

Following the briefing we boarded our military bus and drove into the DMZ. My guide explained that the forests on either side of the road were filled with land mines. Eventually, we reached the JSA and were asked to walk single file through the visitor center on the south side of the demarcation line and out to the stand-alone conference room building. There were about a two dozen South Korean soldiers that formed a perimeter around our small group. Looming on the other side of the conference room building was the North Korean visitor center and about 15 North Korean soldiers.

We walked into the conference room. At its center was a long wood table with three microphones about a foot apart from each other at its center. My guide explained that the microphones were lined up directly on the demarcation line. I walked across the room to the other side of the table and officially stood in North Korean territory. The entire time North Korean soldiers peered in at us from the outside. Photographs of the North Korean soldiers were strictly forbidden. We were, however, allowed to take a photo of the concrete slab outside the conference room that ran along the demarcation line. A South Korean solider stood on one side and three feet away a North Korean solider stood on the other. Both of these soldiers “retreated” when we left the conference room. In fact, by the time we walked back to the outer steps of the visitor center, all of the North Korean soldiers had disappeared, except for one at the door of the North Korean visitor center.

There is a lot more I could say about my trip to the DMZ. As I said, it was one of the most fascinating places I have ever been. Hopefully, one day the two Koreas will be reunited and the DMZ will, like the Berlin Wall, be relegated to the history books.

PS - I Love You: 40*42'N, 74*00' W

One of my favorite travel sites is FlyerTalk.com. It is a site for frequent fliers to share their travel thoughts, opinions and experiences. One of the open forums on FlyerTalk is the “Trip Report” page. A trip report is exactly what you would expect – a written report about someone’s trip. I’ve submitted a number of them to FlyerTalk, and will post all future reports on Latitudes & Longitudes. The one set out below is from a trip that my partner and I took to New York City in 2009 for our niece’s wedding. As you will see, it is full of a lot of geeky information that many of you won’t find interesting. Too bad – this is my blog and I find it interesting. So read on and enjoy and look for future trip reports.

New York, NY:  Spring is here and love is in the air, so my better half and I set off to New York for our niece’s wedding. We were looking forward to a fun weekend with family and friends, even though we were booked on the dreaded the red eye flight to the east coast. Luckily our upgrades cleared (for both the outbound and return flights,) and I’ve always had pleasant experiences on United’s “Premium Service” flights between the west coast and JFK. In fact, I think that the PS flights are the best domestic flights around, especially if you are in First or Business Class, although the economy product is not bad either.

We would have taken a morning flight, but I had a busy day at the office, as well as a client reception in the evening. Earlier on departure day I checked in online for UA 34 (dep. time 10:20 pm - PDT). I had pre-reserved seats 6C/D -- my two favorites on the 757-200 PS configuration. We didn’t bother trying to fit everything in carry on bags, as we planned to check our luggage at San Francisco International Airport (SFO).

My partner picked me up at the client reception at 8:00 pm for the drive from downtown San Francisco to SFO. As we always do for short trips, we spent a little extra money and parked at the International Terminal G garage. Although, it is a 10 minute walk from the car to the UA premier desks in Terminal 3, I like the fact that I don’t have to take a shuttle bus to/from long term or offsite parking, especially on the back end of the trip when I am be anxious to get home. Level 3 is the best place to park. The moving sidewalks between the garage entrance and the international terminal offer excellent views of the ramp and the planes used by United and its Star Alliance partners for overseas flights. Moreover, you can swipe your credit card or use your “FasTrak” device for easy entrance and exit into the garage -- no need to worry about a lost ticket or having cash available to pay your parking fee.

We arrived at SFO around 8:35 pm. There was no line at the baggage check kiosks in T3 so we skipped the premier desk altogether and were through security at 8:50 pm. We skipped a visit to the Red Carpet Club and instead spent 30 minutes browsing in Compass Books, which is located just after the security checkpoint. Compass is one of the better airport bookstores in the United States and I always spend some time checking out the newest releases if time permits. We then wandered through the terminal before heading to Gate 80. We were the first two on the red carpet, which gave me the opportunity to listen to the banter between the gate agents and some of my fellow travelers. One lady tried to convince the gate agent to upgrade her to Business Class so that United could “resell” her coach seat “and make more money.” I couldn’t tell if she was serious or was just desperate for a Business seat (probably the latter.) In any event, she could not grasp that the entire flight was oversold and that 23 people were on the upgrade list. After she walked away the gate agent and I had a good chuckle.

Boarding began at 9:52 pm and we quickly settled into our seats for the overnight flight to JFK. I loved the quilted white blankets and pillows set out on our seats. They were much nicer than the dingy blue blankets available on  other United flights. Pre-flight drink service was quite harried and did not begin until just before the doors closed. Still, the flight attendants on this flight were friendly and efficient.

The doors closed at 10:13 pm and we pushed back from Gate 80 at 10:16 pm. We taxied to Runway 1R and our wheels came up at 10:32 pm. We made a quick turn to the right and halfway across San Francisco Bay, turned left back toward the north, passing directly over the SF-Oakland Bay Bridge before ascending into the clouds. Channel 9 (which allows you to listen to communication from air traffic control) was not available.

Beverage service began about 25 minutes into the flight and was followed by a very poor excuse for a “snack.” I certainly did not expect a full meal on a red eye flight; however, the “Mideast” snack plate of hummus, baba ganoush, pita bread slices and veggie sticks was tasteless. After nibbling at the veggie sticks and enjoying my tomato juice (I don’t drink – which many of my friends think is a tragedy given how close I live to wine country) I read a few pages from my new book (purchased at Compass Books) and settled in for some shut eye. I slept until the ride got a bit rocky and I was jolted awake. This was about 2 hours and 35 minutes into the flight and I estimate that we were somewhere near the Mississippi River. Exactly 3 hours into the flight I could see the lights of Chicago and was able to make out O’Hare Airport far below. Halfway across Lake Michigan, the clouds were back and I would not see the ground again until we were on our final approach.

About an hour before landing, the flight attendants came through the cabin with hot cups of coffee served in proper mugs. Not the greatest blend, but it helped to revive me. We began our descent into JFK at 5:45 am (EDT). There were some bumps and grinds during the approach and we broke through the rain clouds only a minute before touching down on Runway 22R at 6:15 am – 4 hours and 43 minutes (thanks to very strong tail winds) after taking off from SFO. We taxied to Gate 8 at Terminal 7. The plane door opened at 6:27 am and we had our bags in hand and were on our way via car service into Manhattan by 6:40 am.

I won’t bore you with details about the hotel – the Millennium Hilton on Church Street across from the World Trade Center site -- except to say that I was very happy that we were allowed to check in when we arrived at the front desk around 7:20 am. Nor will I bother you with wedding details, except to say that the Brooklyn Botanic Gardens is a very nice place to have a wedding, and our niece looked stunning!!

For the trip home, we left the Millennium Hilton at 7:45 am (EDT) and arrived at JFK – Terminal 7 at 8:35 am for our 11:03 am departure to SFO. (I am chronically early to airports.) Again I checked in online for UA Flight 11 the day before, and again we had seats 6C/D. There was no line at the UA ticket counter, so we quickly checked our bags and headed for the security line. United, All Nippon, British Airways, Cathay Pacific, US Airways and Qantas all operate out of T7. The security lines were long because Cathay 841 from JFK to Hong Kong was scheduled to depart at 10:10 am. A number of the passengers in front of us did not speak English, so the line moved slowly as the TSA agents tried their best to ensure that everyone was following the rules. We finally made it through around 9:05 am and made our way to the nearly empty Red Carpet Club for some coffee and preflight relaxation. At 10:00 am, we did our preflight walk through the terminal and watched as the Hong Kong flight (a 777) pushed back from Gate 5.

We were on the red carpet at Gate 10 ready to go at 10:30 am. Boarding started promptly. On this flight the very friendly flight attendant offered us a drink almost immediately, and my partner and I made one last toast in honor of our niece and her new groom with our tasty Mimosas (ok – I drink a little every now and then). The doors closed at 10:52 am and we pushed back from Gate 10 exactly on time at 11:03 am. At 11:10 am we began our taxi to Runway. Even though it was overcast and rainy, there was only one other plane ahead of us and we rumbled down Runway 4L at 11:24 am.

Again, Channel 9 was not available and the ground quickly disappeared under a thick layer of clouds; however, we immediately began a long slow right turn toward the south and then to the west. I would not see the ground again for more than 5 hours.

The excellent in-flight service began almost immediately with a drink service. The flight attendants handed out menus during our taxi and our lunch orders were taken along with our drink orders. I again opted for the tomato juice and later switched to water with lemon. For lunch we had a choice of: (1) beef fillet with roasted potatoes and veggies; (2) a Reuben sandwich; or (3) grilled chicken with Thai BBQ sauce. Both of us chose the chicken, which was preceded by shrimp cocktail and an iceberg lettuce wedge. The shrimp were surprisingly good and large, but the salad was nothing special. The chicken, which came with steamed oriental veggies and rice, was dry, and I am not quite sure why they called it “Thai BBQ sauce,” as it tasted like the honey BBQ sauce you get from the grocery store. For dessert, we had ice cream sundaes with all of the fixings. Most importantly, we gobbled down the hot chocolate chip cookies that were offered about an hour before landing.

Although I had my book on hand for the long flight, I took one of the handheld in-flight entertainment (IFE) units. They are cumbersome and a poor substitute for a built-in IFE, but I liked the variety and was able to watch Revolutionary Road – a movie that I had wanted to see. I started to watch Bride Wars, but it was so bad that I decided to return to my book.

We began our descent at 1:55 p.m. (PDT) and approached the Bay Area from the Mono Lake area and the “Modesto 3” arrival. We broke through the clouds as we approached the San Mateo bridge and at 2:22 pm landed on Runway 28L – 5 hours and 58 minutes after departure. We taxied to the ramp and parked at Gate 80 at 2:24 pm. After deplaning, my partner went down to baggage claim and I headed to the parking garage to retrieve the car. By the time I pulled up to the T3 arrivals level, he was walking out the door and we were on our way back to Marin County.

All in all, two very nice flights on what I believe to be United’s best domestic product.

Censorship, Alive and Well: 38*29' N, 122*36'W

Santa Rosa, California: It didn’t take me long to stray from the travel theme of my blog and venture into the world of policy and politics. And for this entry, I am not straying very far from home. I’m going just up the road to Santa Rosa, California in Sonoma County.

One of the purposes of this blog (like so many others) is to comment on the world around me. I hope to suppress the urge to rant and rave about the "hot" issue of the day as seen on cable news; rather, I want to offer a more thoughtful commentary that does not mirror the more sensational aspects of our mass media.

I’m sure that at some point I will blog about my family. Right now, however, all you need to know is that my mother and sister are librarians. So, libraries, librarians and the Internet seem like a good place to start my ramblings. An item from the Santa Rosa (CA) Press-Democrat caught my attention recently. Apparently, Mr. Hendrix, a frequent user of the Santa Rosa Public Library (SRPL) likes to "casually" view female "escort" postings on the library's computers and believes that he has a First Amendment right to do so. Unfortunately, anyone (including children and teens) walking by has a clear view of the computer screen and the pictures of the naked women who are competing for Mr. Hendrix' attention. While Mr. Hendrix agrees that it is not appropriate for children to see such images, he makes two obvious and valid observations. First, he is not doing anything illegal and second, no one is forcing children (or anyone else) to look over his shoulder to monitor his attempts to find an online date.

Of course, the story does not end there. Inadvertent exposure to pornography is just one of the issues addressed in a Sonoma County Grand Jury report, which recommends that the SRPL install Internet software filters "as a means of protecting minors against pornography" and to position the computer screens so that only the users can see them. The latter recommendation makes sense, as it alone does nothing to limit access to the Internet. Even Mr. Hendrix (no word on whether he was able to find a date among the online escorts) would not object to moving the computers to prevent children and others from peaking over his shoulder as he surfs the Web.

Proving that there is some common sense left in the world, the SRPL Director Sandra Cooper is resisting the calls for software filters, arguing that they are the first step down a "slippery slope in terms of First Amendment rights." Unfortunately, Ms. Stebbins, a Santa Rosa mother of two does not agree. Although she reportedly grew up in communist Romania, where censorship was routine, Ms. Stebbins told the Press-Democrat that because the library does not carry pornographic magazines, there is little justification for allowing its users to surf to pornographic web sites. She opines that filtering "web sites" is not censorship and that her children have the "right" to "come to the library and be safe in their intellectual development, which is what the library is here for."

Tommy Smothers, of Smothers Brothers fame (who had their own censorship battles), once said that the "only valid censorship of ideas is the right of the people not to listen." In this case, of course, it would be the right of the people not to look. One might argue that a pornographic website is not an idea, but rather a hedonistic result of our society's rapid advances in technology. My point here, however, is not to argue for or against porn, although personally I have nothing against porn sites, porn movies or the porn industry in general. Rather -- and I am addressing you Ms. Stebbins -- if you do not want your children to have access to porn, then do your job as a parent. Keep an eye on your kids when they are in the SRPL; don't expect Mr. Hendrix or the library staff to do so. If the information that Mr. Hendrix is looking for includes possible dates for next Saturday night, then he has the right to use public and legal resources to do so. Install software filters on your home computer Ms. Stebbins, but don't impose your sense of morality on me, Mr. Hendrix or anyone else.

I go back to Sandra Cooper's slippery slope comment. If we start to censor web sites available through our public libraries' Internet portals, what comes next? Do we return to the days when books that some parents found objectionable are removed from the shelves? Oh wait a minute -- those days are still with us. Public and school library censorship is alive and well in America. Just last year a battle took place in West Bend, Wisconsin where a group of misinformed parents petitioned the West Bend Library Board to move a number of books that addressed teenage sexuality and homosexuality (not pornography) from the Young Adults section to a secure location where they could only be checked out by an adult. Luckily, the Library Board voted unanimously to deny the petition.

Censorship has been with us through the ages, and with the Internet revolution it is clear that we need to remain on guard against those who would seek to impose their standards on everyone. I’m hoping my mother the librarian would agree.

Link of the Day -- for more information on library censorship, check out the American Library Association's Banned and Challenged Books site at http://www.ala.org/ala/issueadvocacy/banned/index.cfm

Welcome!!! 37*59' N, 122*32' W

San Rafael, California: Mark Twain said, "Travel is fatal to prejudice, bigotry, and narrow-mindedness.” How true. On our ever shrinking planet, where conflict, violence, war and famine affect so many, the ability of people of different creeds, philosophies and languages to meet and learn from one another is probably the best defense against a world that is increasingly going mad. Ok -- I'll come down off my soapbox now. Travel is also an excuse to buy new luggage. (That’s a hint to my partner.)

As I move rapidly toward the big 5-0, I am thankful that I still (on most days) have the energy of a teenager. Unfortunately, my attention span is also as short as it was when I was a boy. I find it very hard to sit still. I am not good at remaining in one place for a long period of time. If I had my way, I would pack a small bag, grab my passport and hit the road (credit card in hand of course). As I get older I feel that I have less and less time to see the world, but more and more of a desire to do so.

Ever since I was a child, the act of traveling – the movement itself from one place to another – has been just as adventurous, important, fun and meaningful to me as the destination. Whether it was getting in the car for the family trip to Florida, catching the train to visit my sister in Toronto, or flying off to New York with my parents, I was never happier than when I was traveling from one place to another. You might think that in the post-9/11 era of increased security, crowded planes and long delays that my love for travel – especially air travel – has waned. It hasn’t. The airport is my favorite place on earth – and the larger and more crowded the airport the better.

Besides traveling and hanging out at airports, I also like to write. In college I majored in journalism and in my professional life I am required to write a lot of memos, letters and reports. So why not put two of the things I enjoy together and enter the blogosphere -- my great leap forward into a growing community of people who believe that what they have to say is interesting. This is my big chance to organize and share with the world many of the thoughts, opinions and minutia that are in my head.

I named my blog Latitudes & Longitudes, and you will note that this first entry, and each subsequent entry, is titled with the latitude and longitude coordinates of the relevant topic. As this is my first entry, the coordinates for this entry refer to my home in San Rafael, California. Many of my upcoming entries will refer to travel destinations. The main purpose of this blog is to document the places I am going (or in some cases have already been), and given my strong opinions about many other topics (especially politics), who knows where this blog will take me.

Check back often for updates and feel free to leave me a comment. Hopefully, you’ll find at least some of the information on Latitudes & Longitudes interesting.