Fallen behind.

Been having internet connectivity issues; still behind on my e-mails. Other issues have arisen. On positive note, judge came down with decision in my client's favor. 

Hurricane Sandy's Nonphysical Damage

Various prior postings to this blog have mentioned the technophobia of the various insular religious rabbinical authorities, who have at various times banned internet access in the home, text messaging, social media such as Facebook, et cetera.  And incidents of rejection or expulsion of students from private religious schools on account of having an internet connection in the home, an e-mail account and/or a Facebook or Twitter presence, or a cell phone have been legion.

I could not agree more that the internet poses some significant major league moral and ethical obstacles to society.  But the internet also provides significant advantages and efficiencies in the communication of valid and useful information.

Many insular Jewish religious communities were devastated by Hurricane Sandy.  And it turns out that many individuals who nominally are members of those afflicted insular Jewish religious communities have made use (and continue to make use) of one or more of the banned evil technologies in order to, quite literally, weather the storm and its aftermath.  For some, the use of those evil prohibited technologies have no doubt made the difference between life and death.

Yes, the insular religious rabbinical authorities can continue to deny that the new electronic technologies are of any good to their constituencies.  But due to the recent and ongoing Hurricane Sandy experience, those denials can no longer command much credibility by the rabbis' followerships.  

Dad and Other Heroes

My parents are now in the process of downsizing their living quarters, and I, as their son, am helping them (read "doing most of the work").

While growing up, my siblings and I always knew that Dad worked in a job which imposed significant restrictions upon what he could and could not discuss with us. We were conditioned to never ask Dad what he did; whatever he wanted us to know he would tell us, and nothing more.

Years later, while working for the Department of Defense and holding my own security clearance, I understood far better my somewhat abnormal childhood predicament of not knowing what my Dad actually did at work. And I had several occasions to interact with individuals, military and private sector, who knew my Dad professionally (and sometimes personally).

Going through my Dad's files has been very enlightening. First of all, his security clearance level was a few notches higher than he had led me to believe, even after I had my own clearance. Moreover, seeing his travel and debriefing instructions, and knowing now about the missions and activities of some of the installations to which he traveled, I now realize that my Dad played a major role in the development and production of some very important military projects.

When I was in Israel during the early 1970s, more than one of my Dad's friends and colleagues whom I visited intimated to me, in a rather surreptitious manner, that Dad's work was a major contribution to the Israeli military's technological advancement. One of the documents I found in my Dad's filing cabinet was a letter of thanks from the Israeli Ministry of Defense for the work he did (whatever that may have been). And, of course, several letters from various offices in the Pentagon reflect some big time involvement in some big time projects.


The engineers and scientists who design and perfect the technology used by the military are heroes of a special kind. It is because of those engineers and scientists in the private sector that America maintains its military firepower, global superiority, and historical prosperity. It is because of them that we have had a successful space program, which paved the way for artificial satellites; you owe them all a debt of gratitude each time you speak on your cell phone.

Those engineers and scientists paid (and continue to pay) a price for the work that they do. There are certain stresses, particularly when security clearances are involved, which come to bear upon the engineers and scientists, and upon their families. For those people, it is not "just a job;" complain as they might, they do it because it is a passion which gives them immense satisfaction. Dad could have taken over his own father's business and amassed far, far more money. But my Dad went into his line of work because it is what he wanted to do.

Of course the civilian engineers and scientists do not take quite the same personal risks as the American servicemen and women who are fighting on the front lines in Afghanistan (though many, including Dad, have served in the military). Their work does not warrant all of the perquisites accorded to military veterans. That being said, my Dad is an American hero, as are the thousands of other engineers and scientists who do and have done private sector work on military contracts. To all of you, I give my thanks.

Going through Dad's papers, I saw mention of some interesting names and places. I have every reason to believe that my Dad was involved in even more serious and salient projects than those directly mentioned in the file. For all of Dad's old age issues, he no doubt remembers those matters, and I really am very curious.

But some questions are best left unasked.

To Burn or Not to Burn

Though I am by no means anti-technology, neither am I on the cutting edge of the computer state of the art. Within the past 2 months I purchased a new computer after the one I had been using for a number of years got one glitch too many. I also purchased a new printer/fax/copier/scanner for similar reasons.

And so, I now have a working Adobe Acrobat program (the software for which I was able to procure at a generous discount on account of my status as a higher education faculty member).

My filing cabinets have been getting loaded, and I really, really do not wish to purchase another one because, being that my wife and I are inveterate packrats, there really isn't too much space around here to accommodate another.

And so, I am now archiving paper files into PDF documents. I have already freed up almost 6 inches of file drawer capacity by PDFing some of our credit card statement files. But that gets boring, and besides, I really don't want to overburden the secretaries in my Department with the task of emptying the shredder machine too many times in one week.

And so, I have taken it upon myself to PDF my Letters to the Editor files from the past 40 years. I have written Letters to the Editors of diverse publications. There were periods when I wrote almost every week (and, there were periods, like when I was in law school, where my letterwriting time was very limited). I still write Letters to Editors. My publication rate is about 1 in 3 or 4, which is quite good. And I have saved just about every one of them (I even retain the copies of the ones which do not get published).

The first 9 years' worth were the most difficult because I didn't have regular access to copy machines at the time, so I kept the actual newspaper clippings (which by now are all good and yellow), and the carbon paper copies. In most instances, using the document feeder on my scanner was out of the question; I had to individually lay each item on the scanner glass. But the next batch is a bit easier, inasmuch as most have already been copied to 8.5 x 11 sheets, and, with a few exceptions here and there, can just be arranged in order and fed through the scanner via the document feed. I have freed up about an inch of file drawer capacity on the project thus far.

A number of interesting observations:

First, the progression of the technological state of the art available to me is apparent. When I was in high school, it was all typewriter and carbon paper. And, environmentalist that I am, I did then, and do now, use the blank reverse sides of whatever 8.5" x 11" sheets I have for my copies. What was on the reverse (or, rather, the obverse) of my copies is often interesting.

Along somewhat similar lines, once I started working for the Government, I started keeping more complete documentation of my Letters to the Editor (e.g., background documents, articles which inspired the LTEs, notes, et cetera), paralleling the recordkeeping habits which I, as a government bureaucrat, learned as a matter of survival.

Most interesting of all, however, is the metamorphosis of my sociopolitical views over the past 40 years. Reading some of what I wrote in high school, I come off as a flaming liberal. But I have shifted my world view, as I matured, experienced more interactions beyond my suburban middle class upbringing, and got burned a few times by the real agendas of those whom I naively accepted as allies. Case in point: After Israel was attacked in the 1973 Yom Kippur War, many self-professed tolerant and reasonable humanitarians showed their true colors.

Which all begs the basic question: Might some of this stuff embarrass me? Do I really wish to preserve it for posterity? Shouldn't I burn some of those old letters?

I did think long and hard about it. And, after serious deliberation, I decided that yes, I will preserve my Letters to the Editor. Moses himself had flaws which are mentioned in the Torah (which actually gives that document some credibility; would the writings of a Chavez or a Castro or an Obama be so open about such shortcomings?). While I have no current plans to publicly post my correspondence with editors on the Internet, I do wish to keep an accurate record. There are too many people today who seek to rewrite history. I will take the risk of having my liberal past uncovered. I would rather be called a liberal than be thought of as deficient in my credibility.