Speaking of Poetry

... as I did, briefly, in my previous post. I have been reading Warrior Geezer lately. If you're not familiar with George, you might, likewise, be impressed.

 

Success and Failure

The Goddess posted a meaningful poem today: Don't Quit. I often find myself glossing over posted poetry, but this one grabbed my attention.

I was really taken with the Winston Churchill quote posted in the comment section of the same blog: "Success is moving from failure to failure, without loss of enthusiasm." It's one of those statements that strike me as being so very true, kind of an axiom that I don't question. I decided to repost it here because I couldn't remember the exact words and had to go back to the Goddess'es Blog to look it up. Now I have an outside chance of finding it on my own blog if and when I need it again. I'm not a quote kind of guy, but it reinforces my other one: "The only failure is in not trying."

---

PS: For those who remained confused over the issue, until further notice, this is my active blog. The other blog is, for now, a place to experiment in the making of blog templates without causing the eternal ruination of this one. Sorry for the confusion.

 

Power Surge

I am more or less an even-keel type of guy, but, like everyone, I am subject to mood swings. Sometimes, I understand them; often, I don't. I don't know why, but for no apparent reason, I can find myself operating in a gloomy fugue when the sun is shining outside and nothing obvious is wrong on the inside. But yesterday, the opposite happened. I drove to the grocery store (hardly a treat) on a dank and cloudy day that was cold enough to begin to freeze the rain on the windshield.

On my way between the car and store, hood pulled way down over my forehead as protection from the elements, I experienced a kind of pure joy. I will name it and claim it as The Joy of Being for I know not what else to call it or how else to describe it.

I don't know why the power surge of gladness hit me then any more than I know why the waves of despondency sometimes break unbidden upon my shores.

It was great while it lasted though.

 

Refresher Course at the Movies

Near the end of September, I wrote Picture This, about our first foray into the quaint little theatre in our town. We didn't get back there for a whole month after that initial visit but have paid two last-minute- on-the-spot visits in the past two weeks. I have told you that the admission price is a six-dollar bargain, but Wait There's More!

They also have Cheap Tuesdays when admission is reduced to four loonies (dollars) each. Of course, Cuppa must have her popcorn fix at each and every movie, but even that is a relatively inexpensive. For $4.75, we get a large popcorn with real butter plus a soft drink. That's a grand total of $12.75 for a night out. Not bad considering our last experience in town cost $13 per person before the popcorn. The whole evening totalled the best part of $35, before gas consumption was factored in.

Last week we saw Elizabethtown with Orlando Bloom and Kirsten Dunst. It was one of those redemption movies where a upwardly mobile young guy with terrible values ends up in a small town. The town and the zany girl change his values and his life. It's better than some movies of similar theme: better than Garden State in my opinion because it explores its theme without cussing and swearing and seedy joint-smoking characters. I don't think there was a single language incident in the whole performance, so I'm sure that Debra would like it. My daughter says that I'm picky about movies, but I don't think so. I liked Elizabethtown, partly because I decided to perceive it as a fantasy and to just go with that somewhat unreal flow.

Last night, we ended up watching Dreamer in the same place, same seats, and same popcorn (so to speak): another nice picture with a good although sometimes schmaltzy story and absolutely no bad language. Kirk Russell and little Dakota Fanning perform really well; Dakota is a precocious doll. I hope that she's half as nice in real life as she seems on screen. I'm pretty sure that Debra and many of you would really enjoy this flick too.

An added benefit was the kid who sat in front of us. Unlike Mel's recent negative experience with Mr Triangle Hair, this little fellow was an absolute delight. He was into the movie and made cute comments and noises: an "Aw" when they kissed and so on. More than once, Cuppa, I, and others giggled delightedly at his spontaneous but always positive outbursts.

I was so pleased with the boy that I made a special effort to chat him up a bit afterward. I don't normally go out of my way engage strangers, but I was so taken with this little fellow that I wanted to let him know in some way. I don't know if he understood that I was trying to tell him how cute he was or how much I liked him, but I was happy that I tired.

I learned a bit of a lesson too. Perhaps that doesn't put it exactly right because I find that it is more likely that, at this stage of my life's journey, I am more likely reminded of old lessons ... again and again. Sitting behind them before the show began, I could tell that the aunt loved the boy, but I could also tell that she was the unpolished type, sitting there in her slightly greasy hair and her slightly soiled team jacket, the kind of garment that you'd expect a young guy to wear, not a forty year-old woman.

You see how I'm being judgemental: "unpolished, soiled, team jacket?" Well, she may have been those things, but I hardly needed to categorize her like that. It was obvious that she loved the boy and happily engaged him on his level. Later, she was very friendly and quite well-spoken with us when we made the effort to talk them at the conclusion.

So, AC must relearn the old but true saw: you can't judge a book by its cover. He must try not to be so judgemental. He does that: makes quick assumptions about people and pigeonholes them. He tends to pre-judge people too much: this person appears to be worth knowing or talking to but that person is not up to his high standards. As if he's any prize.

 

The Birth Dearth

If I don't get this blog written, I may never blog again. *grin* I slipped into this topic accidentally, several posts ago, pretty well against my will. It's too much like teaching. Teaching is a fine thing to do, but you have to complete topics even when you'd just as soon move on. I'd rather keep my blog more personal and let my random thoughts and observations take me where they will rather than lecture on topics.

You will see, if you have been paying attention, that there is a new and final section added to the graph above: phase 5 of the demographic transition model. You will see a question mark in the phase because we don't truly know what will happen as it unfolds. (Please note that I had trouble with my drawing in adding this stage. It would have been better to have drawn the whole graph at the beginning rather than add to it. Technical skills, or the lack thereof, notwithstanding, however, the information is more or less correct.)

What you see in stage five is the crossing of the birth rate and death rate lines. If a country's fertility rate declines to below replacement levels, which is 2.1 per children per woman, over the long haul, the resultant aging population structure will, eventually, mean that the death rate will exceed the birth rate.

This is not conjecture, but reality. The world's more developed countries now average a fertility rate of only 1.6 children per female. Obviously, this means that the typical couple does not replace itself — the couple (two people) only reproduce one-and-a-half children (approximately). However, for the time being, that is still enough for most developed countries to grow their total population.

How can that be so?

It's simple really. Past population growth, such as the post-war baby boom, left us with a lot of couples to make babies. Even if they didn't make many babies per couple, they still made lots of babies as a group. In fact, there have been many more baby-makers in our society than old people. In other words, despite the decline in the fertility rate (the number of children that a woman bears), the birth rate has continued to exceed the death rate in most developed countries.

Nevertheless, the gap between birth rates and death rates has narrowed, and eventually they will cross each other — or so it seems. Developed countries will enter the phase of negative population growth. This can be mitigated to some degree by immigration. Not only does immigration add to the population in the moment, but it also increases the future birth rate to some degree because it is usually younger couples who are accepted into new countries. These couples also tend to come from areas of the world where higher birth rates are the norm. Where a native-born couple would tend to have one or two children, an immigrant couple might be more likely to produce three or four offspring.

Immigration notwithstanding, it will be hard to admit and absorb enough immigrants to avoid reaching negative population growth at some point.

Remember, however, that this is only occurring in developed countries. There is still a very real population explosion occurring in less developed countries. Although their fertility rates are decreasing significantly, the average third-world woman still gives birth to 2.84 babies. That is projected to fall to about 2.17 by 2050 — essentially replacement level. So, there is still a lot of population growth to occur in LDCs, probably three to four billion people, before the whole world reaches a no-growth stage (or stage five). Therefore, although population is set to soon decline in DCs, it will hardly put a dent world population growth.

Jordan, for example, will still double its population from about 6 million in 2005 to about 12 million in 2050. Morocco will expand from 32 million to 50 million, Rwanda from 8 million to 20 million. All of these countries are or soon will be lowering their birth rates dramatically, but there remain many young couples to reproduce children. (Note: these three examples were chosen at random and not for effect.)

Meanwhile, some European countries are already in stage five and already experiencing negative population growth. Germany's growth rate currently stands at -0.2%; its population growth has stopped, and its population will fall from its current 82 million to about 73 million by 2050. Poland will decline to 32 million from 38 million. France lags a little further behind in the process; it will grow very slowly from its current 60 million to about 63 million in 2030 before it then declines to 61 million in 2050.

The non-European developed nations are not as demographically advanced as their European counterparts. The North American countries will continue to grow until mid-century or beyond. The USA will still be growing by 0.7% in 2050 when it will house 420 million people, up 125 million from today's 295 million (note: the USA's present growth rate is 1.7%), for its fertility rate remains high (for developed countries) at 2.1/woman. Canada's fertility rate is lower — 1.6 — and it's growth rate will be as low as 0.2% by 2050. Likewise, Australia's fertility rate is 1.8, and it will grow moderately until 2050 when its growth rate is expected to be 0.1%.

However, even these slower, and not yet negative, growth rates have repercussions. Our society is aging. We don't build schools; we build nursing homes. An older population requires more social services, yet it has a smaller work force to sustain it. The USA, for example, finds itself looking at ways to make Social Security sustainable. In Canada, we have already raised the old-age-pension tax moderately. Another thing: traditionally, older people have less disposable income to spend than working people, and even if they do have money to spend, they tend to hoard it more. That could hurt the economy, but that scenario may not come to pass as baby boomers won't necessarily stay home and dine on toast as their predecessors might have been wont to do. Still another concern is that people will have to work longer. The raising of the pension-able age beyond 65 is already being discussed and may become necessary because developed countries could soon begin to endure a shortage of workers. Canada has already passed a law making it illegal to make retirement at 65 mandatory. Although that may only yet apply to government works (I'm not sure), you can see where we may be headed.

Low or negative population growth isn't and won't necessarily be an economic disaster, but it may require changes in the way we think about our working lives. Also, low and negative population growth in the relatively lowly-populated developed countries does little to slow total world population growth and does nothing to halt still rapidly glowing populations within the less developed parts of the world.

To summarize these posts:

1. we in the western world (developed countries) had a population explosion as a result of the industrial revolution;
2. the third world (less developed countries) are experiencing a large population explosion resulting from the aid of western nations;
3. fertility rates are decreasing in the LDCs, and most population growth will end late this century or early next, probably with about 4 more billion people being added to the planet;
4. and, fertility rates in DCs, below replacement level, are already resulting in negative growth in some European countries and slow growth in most developed nations.

 

Please Humour or Humor Me

Oh where, oh where did AC go? Well, among other things, he decided to try his hand at building a new blog template. I'm not replacing this one at the moment, and when (notice that I said when) you go to the new one, you'll understand why. It was a learning experience, and I think I learned quite a bit by doing it. Lisa and Gemmak have it down to a science, but, alas, I am a rank, but not a stinky, amateur.

I'm hoping that the faithful will slip over to Anvilcloud's Raindrops (as opposed to just Raindrops, this blog) and drop a comment. As I will explain when you get there, I could use some comments to work with.

 

My First Halloween

Little AC sitting with Grandpa Arthur and Frisky.

I'm almost four years old in the picture. My parents, grandad, Uncle Charlie, and I all lived in the same house — grandad's house. We had probably lived with grandad and Uncle Charlie for several years at this point and would live with them for several more before moving to our own little place. The extended family seemed natural, just as it seemed natural when we moved out on our own. Humans are very adaptable.

Frisky appeared at the door one day. Some kids were selling him cheaply or giving him away; I'm not sure which. Grandpa accepted Frisky into the house, and we named him Frisky because that's what he was: a young dog full of energy.

The fateful day arrived: I didn't know it was Halloween Day at the time; in fact, I don't think that I knew diddly about Halloween at that tender age. I recall Grampa saying that he was going to the store and that he was going to take Frisky with. For some reason, I was to be included in the trip. When we were about to leave the house, Grampa decided that Frisky didn't require a leash. I remembering getting quite upset and predicting that he would be killed by a car. But Grampa was sure that Frisky would be fine, even though we had to cross a busy street.

How is that a three-year-old kid can see better than a seventy-year-old man? He wasn't dumb, and I wasn't a child-genius, but I could predict the consequences better than he. Sure enough, Frisky ran into traffic and was run over by a car. Grampa carried the broken and bloody body home and buried him in the back yard.

Although I don't clearly remember, I must have been more than a little distraught, so much so that my mother, in order to distract me, sent me out for Halloween that night. She threw an old coat on me, and I don't know what else, and said that I was to identify myself as a tramp, and out we went.

That was my first Halloween. As far as I recall, I hadn't known that Halloween existed up until that point in my life. I can't recall my emotions and barely recall going out, but I suppose that I thought it was pretty darn wonderful to receive all that booty. It probably did serve to take my mind off the day's trauma too, but it's not the Halloween part that's vivid in my memory fifty-five years later. What's vivid is my angst when I as a little boy somehow realized that Frisky probably would be killed. I can still, even now, relive the dawning apprehension that I felt when Grampa said that he was going to take the dog out without a leash, and I can still see Frisky being run over. I can play that track at will, and it sometimes plays unbidden as my brain does its random shuffle thing. It's probable that I can only relate the Halloween part of the story because I have been told it many times, but the Frisky incident is indelibly archived.

---

My Most Recent Halloween

Last night Cuppa and I sat in our little porch waiting for the kiddies to come by. We were dressed up in whatever we could find. We left our porch lights out, rendering some of the more timid kids reluctant to enter. We spoke kindly and cheerily to those children. But for the older and bolder among them, I lurked in the corner, the hat brim covering my eyes.

Unobtrusively, as Cuppa dished the treats, I would turn on the speaker and blast some eerie Halloween sounds: screams, groans, creaking doors, witches' cackles and so on. Then, I might let my brooding eyes catch theirs from just under the brim of my hat. I startled some. Others said, "Cool!" And some little guys got down and looked all over, much more curious about the sound and its source than anything. It takes all kinds to make a world, from the quiet and timid souls to the bold and curious spirits.

I'm glad that Cuppa and I did a little something beyond the ordinary. We'll remember the night for a quite a while, even if it's soon lost in the haze of a busy night for the little trick-or-treaters. They'll mostly forget, but I'll remember, just as my mother remembered more about my first Halloween than I do. She passed on the story though, and I pass these accounts on to you and to those who inherit my genes.