Thomas M Abercrombie
http://tomabercrombie.posterous.com
Ini Spesifikasi Hp Terbaru Realme, Reame 5s
4 years ago
Tuesday, December 28, 2010
Matthew Henson, explorer
Alexander Henson was born to free African American parents in Charles County, Maryland on August 8, 1886. In 1867 Matthew's parents sold their farm and moved to Georgetown, Maryland just outside Washington D.C.
When Matthew was 13 he took a position as a cabin boy on a merchant ship. In the next five years he traveled the world while learning everything he could about seamanship. But, due to the racism and prejudice he experienced from white sailors, he left his life at sea when he was 18.
Soon after returning to the east coast, Matthew met Robert Peary, a lieutenant in the U.S. Navy. Peary offered Henson a job as his servant on an expedition to Nicaragua. During this time Henson demonstrated abilities in ways that proved extremely valuable to the expedition. As a result, Peary asked him to be part of an expedition that would ultimately reach the north pole.
Each expedition over the next two decades started from Greenland. It was here that Henson's experience at each attempt proved invaluable. He learned everything necessary from the native Innuit to live in the extreme climates of this hostile environment. In turn, he was responsible for training each member of the expedition including Commander Peary.
Finally, on April 7, 1909 Peary, Henson and several Innuit reached the north pole. It would not be for several decades though, that Henson would receive any credit at all for his contribution to the expedition. had on the expedition.
Matthew Henson died on March 9th 1955. Four years later, on April 6, 1959, a memorial plaque honoring the accomplishments of this great explorer was placed in the Maryland State House. Throughout his life Matthew Henson overcame great adversity. In doing so he demonstrated the finest qualities of the human spirit.
| Matthew A. Henson | |
|---|---|
 | |
| Born | August 8, 1866 Nanjemoy, Maryland, USA |
| Died | March 9, 1955 (aged 88) The Bronx, New York, USA |
| Occupation | Explorer |
| Spouse | Lucy Ross |
Monday, December 27, 2010
Teena Marie, RIP
Marie, a protege of funk singer Rick James, was one of the few white musicians to score hits on the R&B charts, with 'I Need Your Lovin' and 'Lovergirl' in the '80s.
 Soul singer Teena Marie performs at L.A.'s Beverly Theater on March 8,1985. (Los Angeles Times)
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Thursday, December 23, 2010
How to Set Up Recycling at Your Workplace
- Form a “green team” – Approaching recycling as a team can help ensure the success of your recycling program. A “green team” is a group of employees interested in recycling and helping to set up a program.
- Determine materials you will recycle – Performing a waste audit can help. A waste audit is an inventory of the amount and type of solid waste (trash) produced at a location.
Commonly recycled business items:
- Office paper
- Magazines and catalogs
- Newspaper
- Cardboard
- Aluminum cans
- Plastic bottles
- Toner and ink jet cartridges
- Contact your property manager – Find out if there are any recycling programs in place. Ask them to provide office paper, cardboard, aluminum can and plastic bottle recycling as a service to building tenants. Remind them that recycling can reduce waste disposal costs.
On your own – If your property manager cannot provide recycling, or you are a small business, meet with your green team and decide what materials you want to recycle.
- Contact a recycling company – Interview multiple companies and get price estimates for providing a dumpster and pickup services. Most recycling companies provide rebates on materials collected.
These companies provide recycling pick up services in the Kansas City region. They will provide a dumpster and establish a regular pick up schedule to meet your needs.
- Drop-off Recycling – If pickup services are not an option, another option is to take your recyclables to a drop-off recycling center.
- Coordinate collection – with the recycling service provider, janitorial crew and/or staff. Think about:
- Small bins – You can provide durable recycling containers to each staff person or ask them to use copy paper boxes or something similar at their work stations. Decide what type and size of bin to locate next to printers, fax machines and other machines that generate paper.
- Central bins – Locate large recycling bins in copy rooms or break rooms.
- Collection – Create a regular schedule and determine who will pick up recycling from the small and central bins. It may be staff, janitorial crew or a combination.
- Drop-off recycling – If your staff is using a drop-off collection center, set up a team and schedule for taking recyclables to the center. You may also need to determine a place to store recyclables.
- Communicate all this information to your entire staff and janitorial crew.
- Educate staff
- Distribute fact sheets describing the new recycling program for employees and janitorial staff and post updates on your company's intranet site.
- Provide bins and collection containers as mentioned above.
- Mark containers with signs labeled by item. It is helpful to use the “chasing arrows” recycling symbol.
- Plan a fun kick-off event
- Send a memo from management to all employees encouraging participation.
- Fun events, giveaways and refreshments could be provided.
- Distribute fact sheets, signs and containers.
- Schedule orientation sessions for each department.
- Let others know about your efforts
- Write articles for the employee newsletter, intranet, and building and industry newsletters. Acknowledge people for changing their habits and keep people informed of the results of their efforts. Seek staff’s suggestions.
- Send out press releases to the local media. You may also want to include information in customer or client mailings.
- Include your recycling efforts in company promotional pieces.
- Maintain your program
- Have your green team meet regularly to evaluate your recycling program’s progress. A successful program will continue to grow in volume recycled. The team can also address other green issues such as energy consumption and alternative transportation.
- Stay in contact with staff. Update your staff regularly on the program’s progress. Send out periodic recycling reminders. Train new employees about the recycling program.
- Identify a recycling point person to handle tasks such as answering staff questions, managing the green team and program oversight.
Helpful links
- Bridging The Gap – has detailed waste reduction manuals available to businesses. Includes employee surveys, sample kick-off manuals and detailed, step-by-step instructions for a business waste reduction program.
- Environmental Excellence Business Network – local group that meets four to six times a year to share nonproprietary information, techniques and benefits of environmental improvements and stewardship. Members host workshops, seminars and tours.
- Byproduct Synergy project – focuses on turning one company's waste into another company's resources. It applies the principles of industrial ecology in which companies work together to match unwanted by-products as resources for new products and processes.
- Hazardous Waste disposal
For more information, call 714 553 4735 or email info@ewastedisposal.net
Wednesday, December 22, 2010
Tuesday, December 21, 2010
#5: THE END OF STUFF by Truedogblog.com
In light of our bubble’s deflation, perhaps it’s time to rethink how we’ve been generating our wealth.
For the last fifty years, of course, we have doing so by purchasing Stuff, lots and lots of Stuff:
And the economics of Stuff has worked. We’ve spent the last half century consuming our way to the top of the world’s heap and pulling a raft of other nations upward on the strength of our buying binge. But now, simply put, we can no longer afford to buy enough Stuff to keep all of us afloat.
The first two decades of that half century of Stuff were fueled by an enormous burst of disposable income in the aftermath of World War II and with it, the rise of the pursuit of Stuff as a principal of social organization. In those days, men supporting a wife and two children could buy enough new Stuff on a single paycheck to make the economy grow. Then it took both husband’s and wife’s income, then husband and wife working overtime, then husband and wife working overtime plus a line of credit borrowed against all the Stuff they already owned. Then we woke up one morning in 2008 and there was no value left to borrow against. So the credit crashed and the edifice of culturally mandatory, often desperate consumption came down on our heads.
“It’s a Ponzi scheme,” Judy exclaimed when I ran into her at the supermarket. The store was about to fold and everything was marked down. Judy had been a banker before she fled finance for something slower and less hierarchical. “Our consumption cycle has all the features of a pyramid scam,” she insisted. “It requires an ever expanding supply of new wealth to keep purchasing the Stuff that drives the economy forward. Eventually that requirement to buy outstrips the resources available to sustain it. Then constant growth collides with limitations it can’t breach and when it does, people inevitably start falling out the bottom of the economy, just like they are now. We can’t just buy more as a long term economic strategy. It won’t cut it.”
I wasn’t up for a lengthy encounter around the subject so I moved on as soon as it was polite to do so. But Judy started me once again contemplating the End of Stuff.
I soon came up with my five favorite reasons to root for such an outcome:
The dynamic of Stuff has distorted our needs to the point of dysfunction. Economies were engines of survival before they became engines of wealth. In those days, need was defined by the stark physical reality of our biological selves. Since the advent of Stuff, however, need has increasingly serviced our psychological selves, transforming requirements into impulses defined by commercial motives manipulating our emotional confusion. We are left with little idea of what we really need and what we don’t really need, and that inability cripples our capacity to adjust to the new reality.
The manufacture of Stuff is a cavalier use of diminishing resources. Our Stuff syndrome is a remnant of when the world seemed endlessly bountiful and we had plenty to spare. That is no longer so. Instead, all the readily available materials of the Industrial Age are being exhausted at a steady pace and we desperately need to make collective decisions to husband what remains. You can’t do that and chase endless Stuff at the same time.
The sociology of Stuff has warped our culture. We are now a people linked together in a communal identity that is largely shaped by advertisements engineered to get us to purchase maximum Stuff. Thirty second television spots teach most of us who we are and who we ought to be as well as what to buy. The result is a set of self images that bind us to consumption and keep us trapped in a virtual world that is shallow, restrictive, and ultimately manufactured out of whole cloth.
The hegemony of Stuff has set the world on a path that might well destroy it. When Stuff was an American monopoly, it was hard to see the threat it posed. But now the heretofore “undeveloped” world has begun to Stuff itself, gearing up to consume in force. And when they do, not only will materials disappear or inflate in cost, but millions more tons of carbon will be added to the atmosphere, compounding our planetary climate dilemmas, perhaps beyond relief.
And finally, our addiction to Stuff has promoted values that fall far short of what the situation requires. Implicit in making consumption a national commandment has been the nurturing of materialism and obsession—attributes of our lesser selves. If we are to rise to our better selves, as the approaching transformation requires, our reliance on Stuff will be an anchor tied to our feet. We need to value making more out of less, not making less and less out of more and more.
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This entry was posted in economy, identity, social philosophy, social policy, social psychology and tagged consumption, economic bubble, how we spend, social change, the future. Bookmark the permalink.
Monday, December 20, 2010
Going With the Grain – Surfer’s Path Article
The folks at Grain Surfboards are involved in an ecosystem of thought and action.
by Hef Martin (reprinted with permission of Surfer’s Path)
The metallic brown commuter jet began her descent to the New England coastline. Below, thick black river water twisted liberally and without intent amidst dense forests of peeling birch, Adirondack pine, curly white cedar, and crimson oak. Few towns, houses, or barns dare encroach on these northernmost stretches of the Appalachian Mountain range along which we now skidded. I folded an old Stephen King novel under the tuck of my peacoat pocket, slugged down the soupy dregs of my Irish coffee, and made to set heel to tarmac.
Portland International Jetport hosts 10 gates and stretches for maybe, generously, 150 yards. As a faded red windsock danced listlessly against a hemlock backdrop, half a dozen passengers and I embraced the bewildering smell of ocean and the unnatural silence on the runway. The most obtrusive element was the thick fog licking in off the Atlantic. Seagulls squakwed overhead; I could hear them crisply now without the engine growl and customary annoying sounds of an ‘international jetport’.
But the silence gave me vertigo. I felt off-balance. I went wall-eyed from confusion. Was this a dream? A different dimension? Was I back on that grass runway swath cut into the Bolivian Amazonian basin? I glanced back at the plane to see if it was a South American military envoy. No. I checked my pockets for remnants of coca and scribbled antics on cigarette rolling papers. None. Is this really America? How come I don’t feel a bleak and repressive malaise? Where are the fat people?
As I pondered my new place of being on this planet I watched an older gentleman welcome his family back to the Northeast. He wore a straw barbershop-quartet hat with a gray-and-navy Sunday suit, all highlighted with a bowlined red tie. The family seemed to be a father, uncle, and son. All groomed their facial hair in the same style as Kevin Costner, and when they noticed my neckbeard, they all grimaced like they were sniffing cheesy feet. All four of us forced smiles.
Portland proper is the focal burg of Southern Maine, but there didn’t seem to be any structures taller than four stories. The place is boatyards and lighthouses, connected with cobblestone and sloped antique brick single-lane motorways. Colonial architecture and interesting rooflines of cedar shake blend in with abandoned naval bases in blue blood tradition down the coast, as license plates whisper italically, “Vacationland…”
The smell of cedar |
One hour south, I found the Grain Surfboards barn, a shaping, glassing, and boutique wooden surfboards operation situated in the foothills of smoky blue mountains, idyllic pastures of hobby farms, and pacifist communes turned artisan produce markets. The barn is not 20 minutes from a number of decent beachbreaks that swamp the coves, chasms, and open coastline all the way down to the Outer banks of the Carolinas.
I set up camp in the dark, loading resilient tree branches with mini-lanterns, pitching my tent under the starlight with the large north wall of the Grain barn beside me. Tall grass scratched the side of my canvassed domicile, which lay in a graveyard of mechanical skeletons. Trailer chassis and snowmobile hoods grew thick with weeds, cows lowed approvingly from beyond, and the moon shimmered without border, spreading a vagueness cloaked opaquely by wet mist and dewy foreground. The smell of cedar spread a smile wide upon my face. I cackled hideously and slurped at some fire-roasted beans, pausing to swill moonshine brew out of a glass jar, thinking out loud, “This place is fucking perfect.”
Peeling my eyes from my book and donning my flannel jacket, curiosity revealed itself to me. Would I be here right now if Clark foam hadn’t closed its doors and effectively changed the surfing industry on December 5, 2005? Would the general niceties and hopeful vagaries of surfing culture exist without companies like Grain? I doubt I would find this lasting peacefulness outside of a pop-out factory in Malaysia. Excited to meet the people beyond the name of the company, I clicked off my headlamp to get some sleep.
Above: Brad Anderson and Mike LaVecchia roll home after a Northeastern Seaboard tour with their custom boards.
The grumble and growl of an open throttle startled me awake. It was 7a.m., already hot, and sunny, I was sweating and wanted to barf. I hung my stinky head out of the tent and was greeted by two hoodlums on black motorcycles – a snaggle-toothed man grinning wildly on a hog and a large brute manhandling a decrepit World War II-era military bike and sidecar parked, on the grass adjacent to some unimpressed heffers. They were Peter Fonda and Dennis Hopper in Easy Rider. They were butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid in the Argentinian altiplano. They had six surfboards strapped to their machinery and had driven through the night from an east Coast demo tour. They were Mike LaVecchia and Brad Anderson, owners and operators of Grain, and immediately I knew we would get along in splendid perversion.
I was still early for the course. Myself and five others were slated for attendance at Grain’s third weeklong surfboard-shaping workshop. The first had been done in collaboration with the Wooden Boatbuilding School of Brooklin, Maine; the second was held at their shop, just as ours would be. Neither Mike nor Brad showed any sort of hesitation in welcoming me to the barn and allowing me to put my hands to work. I was chomping at the bit to wrap my knuckles around machinery and make a surfboard. Japanese saw or a jack plane, I came to mow wood. After a few hours Mike, friends, and I went out to test some different products and prototypes at Long Sands beach.
I am already a devout participant and chronicler of riding the wood variety of surfboards. I don’t think I could ever go back to foam, carbon fiber, epoxy-skinned, or kevlar boards. Squishy fun, they belong in Air Mall catalogs, right in between laser-guided electronic dog leashes and solar-paneled home-theatre cotton-candy dispensers – tacky, misguided relics that only made mass production and the overcrowding of surf lineups possible.
On the other hand, there are many talented riders and shapers out there who helped the sport progress through innovation due to the mass availability, forgiveness, and easy workability of foam. Many feel that they are right to lament the mysterious closure of Clark foam. But when examined in critical light, those blanks were soft, disposable, nonbiodegradable, overgrown boogie boards. Foam toys.
Wood has been used as the central tenet of surfboard construction for thousands of years. It is one of the basic proteins of our sport. So it is quite natural that some of Grain’s experimental projects have been focused on the recreation of ancient Hawaiian designs. In fact, Grain’s entire line is constructed using the same basic logic that waterman and surfboard visionary Tom Blake employed when he began building hollow wooden boards in Hawaii in the 1920s. Correspondingly, each product I was privy to rode with the grace and royalty of its ancestors. Long glide and infallible craftsmanship.
As they explained during our third day together, Brad and Mike both came to this job earnestly. LaVecchia was heavily involved with Burton Snowboards for a dozen years, when it was going through its ‘hoo-ha’ era as a change agent for the wintersports industry. He moved on to his predominant passion shortly thereafter, testing to become a US Coast Guard licensed captain, while operating and captaining the construction of large wooden sailing vessels. His collective knowledge shines through as a problem-solver, carpenter, designer, and benevolent owner.
Grain has managed to create, without external financial backing, a forum |
Brad has been a keen waterman for decades, sailing the globe and working in marine construction and carpentry since his teens. He and his lens-jockey girlfriend, Alex, have been winter caretakers of two islands – totally off the grid and off the New Hampshire coast – for the past 11 years. Brad has worked in numerous nonprofits; he says he nearly expatriated when Bush was re-elected. He had moved back from Scotland with a plan for real, definable positive change when LaVecchia and him were introduced.
Brad and Mike move with uncanny deliberation and reverent knowledge through woodshop or sea. Generous, hilarious, and full of terrific stories, they and their crew connect with the people around them. They openly share a personal, political, social, and environmental ethos that is transmitted throughout all aspects of the Grain operation.
I have a dossier of observations that would make any farmer John Canadian rightfully proud of this American company, but I’ll spare you the onslaught of a litany on their products, because it is peripheral to what amazed me most about their operation (and you’ve read it before): limiting electricity, using hand tools, eliminating waste, planting cedars, using low-VOC epoxy, using local and sustainable-yield wood sources.
Before I continue on in worship from a seemingly totally biased perspective, let me announce that I personally sell wood boards for a different company and consider Grain something of a lead competitor. So when I tell you that they seem like the kind of people to cut down their trees with axes and drag them out of the forest by oxen, I mean that they literally are the Paul fucking Bunyon of the surf industry. And they hold the affirmative power to let the cleancut, cold face of enterprise grow a big, ginger beard.
Grain’s greatest asset (and what impressed me the most) were the people making it work so naturally: John, the tobacco-spitting Colorado native and his two young skateboarding boys; Molly and her phenomenal vegetarian dishes; operations experts Sarah and Josh, Jill and Jack of all trades. Everyone had a symbiotic place in the embryonic consortium.
Grain has managed to create, without external financial backing, a forum for innovation, where people, ideas, and talents collide with dangerous implications. They are successfully bringing cedar-strip, canoe-style hand-crafted surfboards to the forefront of our industry. The people of Grain Surfboards are involved in an ecosystem of thought and action. The term is used too often (but not often enough correctly), but what Grain is set out to do is wholly ‘organic’ in design.
On our last evening we enjoyed a starlit and wine-soaked lobster dinner, as former employees and friends and families and farmers all came out in support of the Grain crew and of us, for our support of them. This is an experience I can’t recommend highly enough.
And so, rooted deeply in northeastern maritime heritage, I have taken one sapling away with me. I’ll feed her reeling pointbreak after pointbreak, spreading the seed of cedar, adventure, and knowledge for decades to come.
When I’m a gruff old man with a smile that smells of aluminum and gin, gliding on a wave at Jordan river on a wood board I built four decades earlier, I will proudly think that I was there that summer in 2008, in that movement that pulled the surf industry out of its narrow focus on destructible, polluting, and foul foam thrusters.
| Jeff (aka Hef) Martin is a 24-year-old carpenter and freelance writer from Vancouver, Canada. He would like to thank his friends and family for helping to send him to the Grain workshop, saying, “It was the most thoughtful thing that anyone has ever done for someone in the history of the planet.” |
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