$0.00

We’ve had a few hiccups along the way since our solar power system went active on the house on April 23, but we’re finally seeing some dividends.

Rocky Mountain Power sent us a bill this month for $0 – and indicated we have a credit of $130 on our account.

In other words, it’s going to take us another billing cycle or two to see what we’re really saving by going solar, but all indications point to us doing well.

We were billed for an estimated use of electricity in June, to the tune of about $86, because the meter reader had to physically read the meter and couldn’t because of “dogs.” We have two dogs, both under 12 pounds, who are almost always inside. The neighbors have two dogs, but they’re fenced. We’re not sure whence the dog complaint comes, unless they happened to arrive at one of the times our dogs were out.

But nevermind.

In reading our bill, I see some interesting things:

The average daily cost of electric service dropped from $3.74 to $0.18

We used 148 on kwh, but generated 305; we used 188 off kwh, but generated 116.

The basic charge per month is $5.29 – that’s the minimum we’d have to pay.

And this is with air conditioning going. Going at 71 degrees, but going nonetheless.

It’ll be interesting to see what happens when winter arrives, and we have less sunlight during the day. Hoping we still see a significant difference.

We are paying $90 a month to the solar power company, but that’s only until we have the loan for the installation and panels paid off. We’re actually managing about twice that a month, and hope to keep that up.

So hats off to Blue Raven solar, and to Rocky Mountain Power, for finally making this work.

So far, they tell us we've prevented 3,698 pounds of carbon dioxide from spewing into the atmosphere. We've planted the equivalent of 93.15 trees, and other green stuff to make us feel happy.

And I agree it does feel kinda good stiggin' it to the Man.



All is not rosy on the energy front at our house—the gas water heater konked out sometime over the weekend. We’ve had it less than six years. Not pleased at all.

Making Prime Work, Part XI

Part One and the Only Part Today: Beatles Breakthrough

I haven’t been shy with my disdain of The Beatles. Sure, they have a few hummable tunes if you forget the lyrics that are dirty in England English but huh huh listen to the rubes in the States sing them (I’m looking at you, Penny Lane, the song we listened to incessantly doing fine motor skill exercises in the second grade at Lincoln Elementary).

The only song of theirs I could halfway tolerate was “Yesterday.”

Then came “Yellow Submarine.”

The movie, not necessarily the song. Although the song has its amusing moments.

I may kinda like some of The Beatles songs now, thanks to this weird cartoon.

For those of you who haven’t seen it: Maybe watch a few old-timey musicals first – White Christmas comes to mind. Note how the songs are strung together with a plot so light (former soldiers band together to raise money for a commanding officer’s faltering ski resort) that you hardly know the plot is there. Then you’ll understand Yellow Submarine.

Also, don’t mistake the art for Peter Max. This is pre-Peter Max, probably among what inspired the Maxster, but not the other way around.

Also note how much cartoon John Lennon looks like C3PO.

Of note: Geoffrey Hughes, who went on to play Onslow in “Keeping Up Appearances,” provides the voice for Paul McCartney.

And watch out for the real Beatles at the end, who show up to warn about Blue Meanies outside the theater ready to be a complete and utter drag on everything, so go out singing our signature tune!

Whee.

Anyhoo, a weird, weird little film. But at least I’ve seen it now.

“There’s No Telescreen!”

Late last week, an aspiring author asked a question in an authors’ group on Facebook, something along these lines: How will the government track us in the future?

Answers were varied, from ubiquitous smart phones and video cameras in public places, to insidious wiretaps wherever one might go.

My answer was this: We’ll self-report, checking in at every opportunity via technology we already have. The rebels will be the ones who opt out of checking in.

Then I read this today at aeon.co:

[Orwell] couldn’t have known how eager we’d be to shrink down our telescreens and carry them with us everywhere we go, or how readily we’d sign over the data we produce to companies that fuel our need to connect.

Spoopy.

Henry Cowles, author of this piece and assistant professor of history at the University of Michigan, goes on to say perhaps Orwell knew more than he let on.

He also mentions this, a quote I’d never heard before: “Who said ‘The customer is always right’? The seller—never anyone but the seller.” I’m trying to find the “wise man” who said this, but little luck so far.

Nevertheless . . .

If we enter a surveillance state – if we’re not there already – it’s going to be because we were willing to walk through that door on our own.

Making Prime Work, Part X

Part One: Overdramatizing A Tale of Telling Lies

There is no reason to embellish the story of Richard Hanssen.

Oh, I guess if you’re writing a movie about the most damaging spy in US history, there are plenty of reasons. There’s more drama in feigned intimacy. In your boss taking you to a park at night and taking potshots at you with a weenie pistol while asking if he can trust you.

There’s enough ordinary drama in the story of Robert Hanssen without the embellishment.

Nevertheless, “Breach,” starring Chris Cooper as Hanssen, is a fine movie. Not necessarily accurate to the story, but a fine movie. As long as it’s marketed as fictionalized – the best they can admit is “based on a true story,” I’m fine with it. Though you have to wonder if they would have sacrificed much to stick to the whole truth. Because the whole truth is a lot more complicated than what’s show in the film.

Cooper is at his best in this film: Creepy, arrogant, self-assured. It doesn’t feel like he’s acting; it’s as if he is a spy for the Soviet Union trying his hardest to keep things together and believing, in his arrogance, that nobody in the FBI could know he’s a spy, since at one time the Bureau put him in charge of finding the spy.

Also stellar in this film: Laura Linney, as the agent in charge trying to find the baddie. Understated, hard-ass, firm.



Part Two: Live-Action Scooby Doo

I know we already have a live-action Scooby Doo movie. Two of them, in fact. But Scooby Doo is what comes to mind when I watched the first season of Psych.

And I mean that in a good way. Yes, it was pretty easy to pick out the villains in the stories. I mean, you only meet a few new characters in each episode, and they’re not going to trick you (at least not yet) by having the baddie be somebody they haven’t already shown you.

They kinda wink at that. They know they’re not telling complex stories. What we’re supposed to be enjoying is the chemistry between Shawn and Gus, and there’s plenty there to enjoy as you wait for them to finger the bad guy you already know.

Louis L'Amour Was Right

Writers are often scrambling to find resources to use to get things right.

Anyone writing about World War II ought to find a gem in Bill Mauldin’s 1945 book “Up Front,” which I’m reading at the moment. I have no plans to write a World War II story, but y’all know the war is kind of a hobby of mine. Reading about it, anyway.

Mauldin is best known, of course, for his cartoons, and admits up front in “Up Front” that’s he’s not a writer. Anyone from the Greatest Generation is familiar with his cartoon GIs, Willie and Joe. Willie was featured on the cover of Time Magazine on June 18, 1945 – and both appeared in a Peanuts comic strip in 1998 (incidentally the last time Maudlin drew Willie and Joe for publication before he died in 2003).

Here’s a great example of what I mean when I say writers ought to find Maudlin useful:

You can usually tell what kind of fighting went on in a town, and how much was necessary to take it, by the wreckage that remains. If the buildings are fairly intact, with only broken windows, doors, and pocked walls, it was a quick, hand-to-hand street fight with small arms and grenades and perhaps a mortar or two.

If most of the walls are still standing, but the roofs have gaping holes, and many rooms are shattered, then the entry was preceded by an artillery barrage. If some of the holes are in the slopes of the roofs facing the retreating enemy, then he gave the town a plastering after he left.

But if there isn’t much town left at all, then planes have been around. Bombs sort of lift things up in the air and drop them in a heap. Even the enormous sheet-metal doors with which shop-owners shutter their establishments buckle and balloon out into grotesque swollen shapes.

In three short paragraphs, Mauldin drops a treasure into the laps of any World War II writer. Many a good scene and many a good character could be inspired by this concise bit of information (kinda like Louis L’Amour implies in his book “Education of A Wandering Man”).

Want more? Here’s the germ of a story right here:

I heard of a soldier who spent his entire time overseas in repple-depples, and went home on rotation without ever having been assigned. His home-town paper called him a “veteran of the Italian campaign.”

(It helps to know a repple-depple is a “replacement depot,” where newly-arrived soldiers and soldiers leaving hospital awaited reassignment to a combat unit.

Mauldin also includes this common-sense caution, aimed (now) directly at writers:

Often soldiers who are going home say they are going to tell the people how fortunate we were to stop the enemy before he was able to come home and tear up our country. They are also going to tell the people that it is a pretty rough life over here.

I’ve tried to do that in my drawings and I know that many thousands of guys who have gone back have tried to do it, too. But no matter how much we try we can never give the folks at home any idea of what was really is. I guess you have to go through it to understand its horror. You can’t understand it by reading magazines or newspapers or by looking at pictures of by going to newsreels. You have to smell it and feel it all around you until you can’t imagine what it used to be like when you walked on a sidewalk or tossed clubs up into hose chestnut trees or fished for perch or when you did anything at all without a pack, a rifle, and a bunch of grenades.

Even with good source material, sometimes the best way to write about something is to be there.

Of course, that’s not always possible. Next best thing? Find someone who’s been there. Like Bill Mauldin.

Persistence. Maybe Stupid Persistence, but Persistence Nonetheless.

Last October, we had a surprise snowstorm that brought about five or so inches of heavy snow. Most of the trees in the neighborhood still had their leaves on, including our apricot tree in the back yard. The snow caused one of the three main branches of the tree to snap, nearly dividing the tree in half. I was pretty sure the tree was doomed. Fast forward to this summer. It's now heavy -- very heavy -- with apricots, even after I thinned them. Hoping the tree, which is REALLY EXCITED TO BE HERE, will survive the summer.

Any ideas what I can do to help this poor thing?

Again, What It's Like Being Me

Spent nearly five hours weeding the garden this morning*. Dogs protected me from the following:

1. Conner Turpin mowing the lawn next door.
2. Other dogs barking in the distance.
3. Evil presence left by the big dogs next door who occasionally stick their noses through knotholes in the fence.
4. The weeds I was weeding.
5. The weeds I had already weeded.
6. Bees in the raspberries.
7. Raspberries.
8. Random oxygen molecules.
9. Raindrops.
10. The absence of raindrops.
11. The sudden explosion of a soft dirt clod on the fence near where they were barking at the aforementioned evil presence.
12. Random car door slams.
13. Imaginary random car door slams.

And so on. I felt *so* protected.

*Yes, five hours weeding. Never said I was a good gardener.

Also shot myself in the hinders with a stream of cold water as I was trying to fix a garden sprinkler line.

But this is what you do when the string of 15 days with temperatures above 90 degrees is suddenly broken by light rain and temperatures in only the mid 70s.

And I was off on the temperatures . . .  No wonder it felt so pleasant.

Making Prime Work, Part IX

Part One: An Unpopular Opinion.

Yes, there is this:



If you've seen this 28-second scene, you've seen the best, and pretty much only the best, in Mel Brooks' "Blazing Saddles."

And I love Mel Brooks' films. And I'd heard of this moron scene, and the farting around the campfire scene. So I thought I was ready.

But the rest of the film. Good grief.

Underulilized talents: Harvey Korman. Madeline Kahn. Gene Wilder. GENE WILDER! How do you underutilize Gene Wilder? All three of these actors have real manic qualities that come out in other Brooks films. Not in this one. The Waco Kid may as well have been played by anybody. And all Madeline Kahn got to do was sing that sad, sad song.

Part Two: Mixed Results from Mike Judge.

First of all, I watch TV nowadays in weird ways. What usually happens is that I spend most of my time watching clips from shows (notably The Office and Parks and Recreation. Then I get to watching the episodes and I get bored until the "best of" comes up.

Kinda so with "The Goode Family" from Mike Judge. This week marked the first time I watched all of season one's episodes. And while I liked the universal lessons on listening to others' desires, not judging others because they don't exactly fit the carefully-curated stereotypes we have of their particular little pigeon-hole, and the coach mispronouncing Ubuntu's name as "Umbumchew, or something," the show, well I know now why it was cancelled after one season.

And maybe they should have given it more time. More time to find their feet with the characters and the message. But as they were skewering progressives, time was not on their side.



This is probably my favorite episode, because of its skewering of classism. Both the left and the right suffer from classism, but the progressive left likes to think they don't. So to see them squirm is delicious.

Nuclear Doesn’t Need More Black Eyes

At the bottom of it, it doesn’t matter that the amount of radioactive material lost in this particular instance is small.

Nor that it’s not enough to fashion a bomb.

Nor that it could be coated with candy and eaten by unicorns, who would then poop more exciting rainbows.

The fact that it was treated carelessly and then stolen and remains unaccounted for is a black eye on nuclear anything, period.

To sum up from the story:

Two security experts from the Department of Energy’s Idaho National Laboratory drove to San Antonio, Texas, in March 2017 with a sensitive mission: to retrieve dangerous nuclear materials from a nonprofit research lab there.

Their task was to ensure that the radioactive materials did not fall into the wrong hands on the way back to Idaho, where the government maintains a stockpile of nuclear explosive materials for the military and others.

To ensure they got the right items, the specialists from Idaho brought radiation detectors and small samples of dangerous materials to calibrate them: specifically, a plastic-covered disk of plutonium, a material that can be used to fuel nuclear weapons, and another of cesium, a highly radioactive isotope that could potentially be used in a so-called “dirty” radioactive bomb.

But when they stopped at a Marriott hotel just off Highway 410, in a high-crime neighborhood filled with temp agencies and ranch homes, they left those sensors on the back seat of their rented Ford Expedition. When they awoke the next morning, the window had been smashed and the special valises holding these sensors and nuclear materials had vanished.

Idiot instances like this will be another nail in the coffin of bringing any waste from Washington state or California to Idaho for treatment – even if doing so makes sense financially, as treatment facilities and crews that know how to work them already exist in Idaho. If the Department of Energy can’t keep track of a few samples of the bad stuff, who is to say the can handle transporting thousands of gallons of the stuff.

Particularly when the mishandling of such material by lab contractors appears to go unpunished.

And I know there are wagonloads of differences between the loss of this material and the safety precautions and checks and double checks and triple checks that would have to take place for any waste to come to Idaho for treatment. What matters is the perception, on a one-to-one ratio, for regulators and alarmists and Joe Six-Pack and Betty Housecoat to scuttle any deal that has the word “nuclear” in it.

Without a drop of waste coming – and still without knowing where the missing radioactive material has ended up – jobs are at stake and could likely be lost. Not those of the folks who lost the stuff, but those who could keep working safety and economically to treat waste from outside the state.

So what’s gotta happen?

Accountability. The Department of Energy, per this article, is pretty good at keeping non-Department folks in line with fines for losing or mishandling this bad stuff. Seems like the same rules ought to apply, and publicly.

Horse Sense. Nobody but nobody – even the noob writing this – should leave ANYTHING resembling a suitcase in a locked car overnight in a hotel parking lot. This is elementary security, folks.

NOTE: I’m saying this as a private citizen, and am not in any way speaking for the company I work for. I do work in the nuclear industry, but on the waste cleanup side.

Helaman and Weird Al

Dear Liam,

There came a time when Jesus asked his disciples to sail with him across the Sea of Galilee, as told in the fourth chapter of Mark:

And when they had sent away the multitude, they took him even as he was in the ship. And there were also with him other little ships.

And there arose a great storm of wind, and the waves beat into the ship, so that it was now full.

And he was in the hinder part of the ship, asleep on a pillow: and they awake him, and say unto him, Master, carest thou not that we perish?

And he arose, and rebuked the wind, and said unto the sea, Peace, be still. And the wind ceased, and there was a great calm.

And he said unto them, Why are ye so fearful? how is it that ye have no faith?

And they feared exceedingly, and said one to another, What manner of man is this, that even the wind and the sea obey him?

Rightly, his disciples marveled. Who is this man, they asked – and what is his power, that even the wind and sea obey him?

That power is the priesthood. The Melchizedek Priesthood, which you are soon to receive.

What, then, do we need to exercise the power of the priesthood in our lives? We cannot hope, of course, to equal the power of Jesus, as he is our Savior. We can, however, be worthy of the power of the priesthood, study how it is used, practice using it, and demonstrate faith in our Father in Heaven that as we keep his commandments, we can use his power in our lives and in the lives of others for tremendous good.

I have seen you faithfully exercise the power of the Aaronic Priesthood many times. A few weeks ago, it was my honor to sit at the sacrament table with you and bless the sacrament at your side. As I listened to you say the prayer, and as I recited it myself, I tried to imagine the both of us sitting at the Last Supper with Jesus and his disciples.

I also saw you in a moment of frustration not too long ago exercise your priesthood power when you were asked to teach a lesson in Priests Quorum, and also to serve at the Gables. I know you were frustrated at having to do so much in one day, but I was proud of you as I watched you take on that responsibility. As we exercise our faith and study what the priesthood can do, we will see many blessings come, blessings that far surpass the time we invest in fulfilling our duties.

“We know that the power of the holy priesthood does not work independently of faith, the Holy Ghost, and spiritual gifts,” said Elder Neil L. Andersen of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles. “The scriptures caution ‘Deny not the gifts of God, for they are many. And there are different ways that these gifts are administered; but it is the same God who worketh [them] all.”

As a missionary, I saw this man – my first mission president – urge his missionaries to do what he urges members of the church as a whole to do now. We need to have faith first, and Alma tells us how to do that by comparing faith to the growing of a seed:

But behold, as the seed swelleth, and sprouteth, and beginneth to grow, then you must needs say that the seed is good; for behold it swelleth, and sprouteth, and beginneth to grow. And now, behold, will not this strengthen your faith? Yea, it will strengthen your faith: for ye will say, I know that this is a good seed; for behold it sprouteth and beginneth to grow.

And now, behold, are ye sure that this is a good seed? I say unto you, Yea; for every seed bringeth forth fruit unto its own likeness.

President Andersen – and Jesus Christ – encourage us to find ways to plant those seeds of faith: By teaching lessons at church, by administering in priesthood ordinances, by listening to our leaders, but most fervently by studying the gospel and by praying to know whether it is true.

As we gain testimonies, we feel that seed growing inside us.

Elder Andersen also mentions the Holy Ghost – that wonderful personage, as real as the Father and as Jesus – who helps us feel and know when things are right. I hope you have felt the presence of the Holy Ghost; for me it is a feeling of lightheartedness and joy. I have heard the Holy Ghost whisper to me.

Once, when I was feeling down about myself and some sins I had committed, I heard His voice. I was at work, cutting bricks for Uncle Albert, and humming in my head a Weird Al song. At one point in the song, Weird Al sings the lyric, “You’re not perfect, but I love you anyhow.” When I got to that point in the song, I felt my burden lifted, and felt that lightheartedness and joy as I knew, despite my faults, that the Holy Ghost was speaking to me, letting me know that though I was not perfect, Heavenly Father loved me anyway.

And yes, sometimes the Holy Ghost will speak to you through a Weird Al lyric.

Strive to be worthy to have the Holy Ghost as a constant companion.

Elder Andersen also speaks of spiritual gifts. They are many, and I see some of them manifest in you. The gift you have with music is a valuable spiritual gift, as Heavenly Father uses music to help convey the Holy Ghost to our hearts. As we develop our talents and use them to help others, we come closer to God.

Here is something my Dad – your Opa – wrote to me about the priesthood:

“The priesthood is the greatest power on earth. It has the power to heal the sick and take away sorrow. It makes life bearable. It makes everything grow. It makes the sun shine and the rain fall. It is the power of our Father in Heaven given to man to use. Never use it for selfish reasons. It is a great responsibility. The blessings are great.”

I saw my father use the priesthood as he led our family. He had his struggles with faith like many of us do, but he had a deeply-rooted love of his Father and Heaven and of Jesus Christ, a love that he always managed to communicate to his children. He used his gifts – the ability to get along with all sorts of different people, the ability to see the humor in life – to see him through many difficult times.

And I know he felt the influence of the Holy Ghost.

I am not always the best example of a priesthood holder. I know I can do better. And I know as you grow in faith, in testimony, in spiritual gifts, and in listening to the Holy Ghost, you will become a greater holder of the priesthood than you are already.

I love you.

Love, Dad