The Demise Of Rope Swings ... Rise Of The Nanny Nation

Last week I posted about tubing along a North Georgia river. In that post, I lamented using up all the film in our cheapie waterproof camera before discovering a sweeeeeet rope swing along the bank.

Emma, Junior, and I swung, swooped, and plunged a few times before moving on down the river in our tubes and I remember commenting as we drifted away, that it was pretty rare to find a rope swing anymore.

"Why?" The kids wanted to know.

"Lawyers." I answered, knowing that they were only part of the problem ... but they are such easy targets ...

In the interest of fairness (to lawyers), I added a bit of explanation.

"People are quick to file lawsuits over the slightest scratch even when it was their choice to partake in an activity with some obvious risk. Rope swings used to be pretty common, but private landowners are scared someone will stub their toe and sue them. You can't really blame them.

Certain types of lawyers feed on and encourage that mindset, just look at their advertisements."

(On the way through Atlanta, I had noticed a lawyer billboard that read, "TURN YOUR WRECK INTO A CHECK!" )

We drifted away from the rope swing tree and soon the swooping was a pleasant memory.

It still bugged me that I had not gotten any photos as it was an excellent swing with some decent air time, plus, as mentioned above, such a rare thing.

I resolved to find the land access point ... there had been a guy sitting in a lawn chair at the swing and a clearly improved trail down to it from the gravel road.

Two days later, on the last day of our cabin in the mountains stay, I went out on an errand run. Along the way, I decided to seek out that access trail, thinking the kids could get one more swing and I could shoot photos from the bank with the REAL camera.

After crossing a wooden bridge and cruising past it once on the gravel mountain road, I found it.

Only ... someone had cut the tree down since we had swung. There it was, lying in the deep bend of the river ... the yellow rope swing floating in the half-submerged branches.

Who had done this?

The land along the river is a mix of private and National Forest properties and I had assumed this was National Forest land due to the trail and some fishing reg signs posted higher up near the road. Even though our government land management agencies have a HUGE nanny complex, (I worked for the NPS for 8 years, they are scared to death you might get a bruise or step off the trail)it didn't seem like them to drop a tree over a rope swing ... especially not like them to drop a huge tree across most of a river channel and just leave it.

Maybe this shoreline was private property and the landowner, fearful of lawsuits had given up taking down ropes and so decided to take down the tree. We had assumed it was still National Forest land and certainly there were no signs to prove otherwise.

I gazed at the downed tree, feeling mad, sad, and a little guilty for probably hastening it's demise by swinging on it earlier in the week. At the same time, I was glad that the kids had gotten to enjoy a truly fine rope swing over water at least once in their life. It was a mix of emotions.

Was the rope swing safe?

Define safe ... safe as in, there is no possibility anything could go wrong, short of a freak asteroid strike?

No, it wasn't.

It was a length of fresh polypropylene rope tied to a tree branch at one end and tied to a stout stick handle at the other. For the best airtime, you stepped up onto a boulder and leaped off, trusting the rope to carry you over ten feet of steeply sloping bank before arcing you out over a deep hole in the river.

You certainly could have gotten hurt.

You certainly could have chosen not to try it, as some in our party chose.

Calculated risk and personal responsibility.

The idea of filing a lawsuit over hot coffee I spilled in my lap, my kid falling off a monkey bar at a playground, or any other activity I chose to do, is alien to me.

The cutting of this tree, instead of simply cutting the rope, is a perfect example of lawsuit mania and the nanny over-reaction it invokes.

Disappearing rope swings, the removal of playground monkey bars, no diving boards at swimming pools, ... no wonder so many kids stay inside and play video games all day.

Virtual thrills are still allowed ... for now.

How To Know If Your Florida Property Will Flood During A Hurricane

If you can see any of the plants or scenery in the picture above, your property will probably have flooding issues during a hurricane or tropical storm.



The more you can find on your property, the more you should think about ...



A) Not buying it ... or buying it and donating it to the local water management district as a wetland preserve.



B) Not whining when you decide to build there and your home floods like Noah's worst nightmare.



C) Moving to Idaho





If you can see any of these animals from your back porch or in a leisurely walk around the neighborhood ... you're property will probably not just flood, but have real artificial reef potential or lake bottom view potential, should a category 4 or 5 come directly ashore.


So, the helpful information above is a little tongue in cheek, but not completely ...

During Fay, which remember was only a minor Tropical Storm, the news reporters showed us flooded neighborhoods, one after another. It was a parade of homeowners standing kneedeep in water and saying, "We've never been flooded like this before."

One of the things that struck me about a lot of those news story scenes is the background scenery in which the flooded subdivision existed. It was all pretty predictable based on the surrounding area.

A flooded neighborhood set in pine flatwoods ... oops, not only are they flat but they are prone to ponding due to a layer of hardpan a few feet down that prevents rapid absorption of rainfall. Plus, in a drought they are tinderboxes ready to burn so it's kind of a double whammy to live there. (Sorry all you folks in Palm Coast, I suppose ITT didn't explain all this when they were carving up Flagler County)

A flooded neighborhood adjacent to a creek, a canal, a swamp, a river ... double oops. That one doesn't even need explaining.

Waterfront property of any kind ... don't even get me started. I understand the appeal, but the risk level is as high as it gets.

Live where you want (Idaho, Idaho, Idaho), but don't whine if you put your home and yourself in harm's way and harm comes to visit.

Oh, and don't ask for my tax dollars to bail out your risky decision.

I Does Not Stand For Impossible, It Could Stand For True Independence

"Impossible!"

"That can't be done."

I've just told 27 seventh grade larvae that their upcoming task is to build a tower of 4X6 index cards that is strong enough to hold " The Terminator". The Terminator is a standard clay brick painted black with 2 old labels attached.

The towers must hold the brick for 5 seconds. If it will hold that long, it would hold all day.

One says, "The Terminator" and the other says, "I'll Be Back".

They shake their heads and roll their eyes when I share the additional news that you may only fold your cards ... no stapling, no gluing, no gum, no paperclips,no taping, no tearing or cutting, and all folds must be angular, no tubes are allowed.

"Is that a real brick?"

"Yes"... I hand it to the nearest kid to verify that The Terminator is indeed all brick.

"Your tower must be at least one foot high and hold the brick. If it does so, you made a 100 on this project."

"What if it doesn't?"

"That depends on you. If you get flustered and stop trying, you fail the project. If you try all period, even if it doesn't ever hold the brick, you make an 80 ... that's a B-. If you DO give up and stop trying you fail this project."

"How do you do it?"

"I'm not telling you how to do it. Try your ideas, if it doesn't work, change them, try again. Pay attention to designs that are working for other kids. Don't be married to your original plan."

"What...married?"

"If your original plan keeps failing to support the brick, then change it."

"Oh."

" After you make a successful brick holding tower of at least one foot, you can combine cards and brains to build it taller for extra points ... it still has to hold the Terminator though."

On the day of the project, after I supply 4x6 index cards(out of my pocket) to the half of the class who never brought their own cards in, there is much anxiety at first.

Before too long, someone (usually a girl) builds a successful tower and I make a big deal out their success. Pretty soon, I am dashing from tower to tower with the Terminator, gently setting it atop them and counting ..."One thousand and One, One thousand and Two, ..."

By the end of the period, usually each kid has at least made the 100 and most have kept building right up to the bell in their quest for extra credit points and the title of class champion engineers.

So what they first assumed was impossible was actually only difficult.

That seems to be where we grownups are when it comes to energy independence.

We think it's impossible.

We've squandered the time since the first big warning bell in 1973, ignored both Carter and Nixon's call for energy independence, and now we're whining about the price of gas, even though it's cheaper here than in most of the world.

For the last 15 years, I've caused my wife's eyes to roll every time I expounded on the fact that gas is too cheap. My point being there was no incentive for fuel efficiency innovation or conserving while it was so artificially cheap.

It would be redundant to point out the surge in giant, gas sucking vehicles during those years, but I just did it anyway.

It creeped me out last week to hear a Saudi spokesman say something similar bout the US, because, frankly, I don't like the Saudis and don't really care to be on the same wavelength as them.

It was a case of convergent evolution I suppose.

I've been inside lately, staining, sanding, and varnishing boards while the 24 hour news talking heads banter about the energy situation.

The overwhelming theme running through their chitchat and their political guests is lowering gas prices.

They don't get it.

Gas prices may fluctuate a little seasonally, but they will steadily climb and that steady climb will be punctuated by rapid price increases due to this or that crisis. It will not matter much if the crisis is real or only a perception.

If I buy a new car this year, I know I'll be paying $6-$8 a gallon by the time it's paid for.

You can write that down and see if it isn't true.

It's a case of the rest of the world, especially India and China, catching up with our lifestyle. It really is about supply and demand.

We need to be in a position to stop demanding oil and move rapidly on alternatives and efficient technology. The positive side is that high prices are spurring some amazing research while also making the price of wind and solar very competitive. While I'm not so crazy about corn ethanol except as a transition plan, cellulosic ethanol is very interesting.

The holy grail of transportation energy sources is probably hydrogen and hydrogen fuel cells. There are constant technology improvements there too ... but how will all that water vapor exhaust affect the planet? (Just kidding ... I'll take dihydrogen monoxide over carbon monoxide any day)

I don't do "doom and gloom" so I know we'll get through this. We just happen to be living in the painful transition period, which, in my opinion, has only just begun to hurt. Like the Terminator Tower project, it only looks impossible.

The future energy picture needs to be more of a paella with many ingredients vs. the current cheese pizza of coal and oil.

(Am I hungry?)

Working on the living room remodel job, one very obvious fact keeps jumping out at me.

The foam brush, the wood stain, the paint on the walls, the varnish, the nitrile gloves, the plastic drop cloth, the plastic paint bucket lids, the foam sanding pads, my sneakers, and the plastic sawhorses are all made from oil.

Petroleum is truly a magical substance. The list of nonfuel products made from it is incredible, and it goes a lot farther used in that manner than as fuel. To burn it seems incredibly shortsighted, yet here we are, just trying to get by.

That bothers me, as I think future generations will look back and say, " They burned it? What were they thinking? Did they think it would last forever?"

That's the same thing I say when I look back at the 19Th century loggers of virgin timber, the market hunters of buffalo, passenger pigeon, and waterfowl, and the whalers.

What were they thinking?

The same thing we are.