Letter to the Sarasota Herald Tribune Editor

This letter was published in today's (1/19/2012) Sarasota Herald Tribune:

"Dear Editor:

"I read with interest the article in Monday's paper about people who are complaining that they are forced to pay insurance premiums on amounts that are much more than the market value of their homes. What these people fail to understand is that insurance valuation has absolutely nothing to do with the market value of their home. Insurance valuation is based on the cost to replace the home should it be destroyed, not what it would sell for in the open marketplace.

"In the example cited in the article, say the house with a market value of $33,500 is insured for $33,500. If it were destroyed by fire and the homeowner wished to rebuild, but the rebuilding costs would total $124,000 what would the homeowner do? Probably, bring a bad faith lawsuit against the insurance company, claiming the insurance carrier knew full well that the cost to rebuild the house far exceeded the amount of insurance on the house, yet chose to insure it for only the market value. Conversely, there are situations where the cost to rebuild is exceeded by the market value. Often, those owners want to insure their house to the market value and expect to receive the full value of the policy, rather than rebuilding should a total loss occur. If the cost to replace is less than the market value, the house will be rebuilt.

"People must understand that insurance values are construction cost driven and not market driven. Insurance claims are settled on the lesser of three options: the cost to repair; the cost to replace; or the actual cash value, meaning replacement cost minus depreciation. In the final analysis, it must be understood that the obligation of insurance is to place the insureds back into the place they would have been, had there been no loss."

Half Yearly Meeting - 2011

I attended this year's Southeastern Yearly Meeting's Half Yearly Meeting, an annual affair that takes place each Thanksgiving weekend. While I have been in Florida and an active member of the Sarasota Friends Meeting (Quakers) for the past five years, I had never attended HYM before. It was held at Wekiva Springs State Park, north of Orlando. Preferring not to drive up by myself, I found that a couple of my friends, Jen and Nate--first-timers as well--were planning on going, so we decided to carpool together.

At 9 AM on Thursday, Jen and Nate came to the house and we packed up and got underway. Jen had volunteered to assist with the preparations for the Thanksgiving dinner that evening, so we headed out that morning. It took us a couple hours to get up to Apopka, the city where the park is located. The drive up I-75 to Tampa wasn't too bad, but I-4 was a completely different story. That highway was thick with cars headed toward Orlando. I suspect a lot of the traffic was headed up to the Disney theme parks. Anyway, when we got to Apopka, the first order of business was to find someplace to eat. Unfortunately, on Thanksgiving there are not a whole lot of places open, so we drove down the main drag and came upon a bodega, Mi Mexico, in a Latino strip mall. There was a small restaurant section so we stopped in and each of us had a fantastic dinner at prices probably half what one would pay in a conventional Mexican restaurant.

Arriving at the HYM, eager to help out, we found that there was nothing to be done, as the turkeys were already in the oven, so the three of us drove down to the springs in the main part of the park and did some exploring. Wikeva Springs is the head of the Wikewa River and is enclosed within a large concrete ring. The weather was a bit cool--possibly in the mid-70s--but there were a few people, mainly Muslems, swimming and enjoying themselves. We walked on a boardwalk nature trail, which wound through the marshy part of the area with all nature of palms and gradually moved up to the area where deciduous trees prevailed. Returning to the camp area, we enjoyed a traditional Thanksgiving dinner. That evening it was fun and games, with me winning the first of the three Trivial Pursuit games I played throughout the weekend.

Friday was another day of schmoozing and enjoying each other's company. I had brought along several tomes and did quite a bit of reading. There were several workshops offered and I chose to attend one on centering prayer. That evening several of us gathered around a campfire which was initiated by Jen. She brought up some firewood and invited those in attendance to join her. It was the first time I can recall sitting at a campfire since I was a youngster and I really enjoyed telling and listening to others' stories.

Saturday was pretty similar to Friday, although several of those in attendance opted to rent canoes and go canoeing down the Wikewa River, including Jen and Nate. I wasn't up for such an adventure, so I satisfied myself with doing some more reading and listening to my iPod. After lunch, as I was enjoying others' company a member of my home meeting, Ann Sundberg, asked me if I had seen Jen and Nate, which I hadn't. We were quite concerned, since the other canoeists had returned while they had not. There is a path down to the springs which terminates near the area in which we were staying, so I suggested I walk down that path while Ann and her husband, Rolf, drove down to the main parking lot to look for them. They found Jen and Nate, who had taken a longer canoe trip than the others. Jen was content to hike back to the camp, while Nate felt discretion was the better part of valor and rode back with Ann and Rolf. As I got to the place where the path I was on crossed the road, I saw their car waiting for me, so I gladly accepted a ride back to camp, myself.

Sunday morning, as I was getting dressed, I happened to look out the cabin window and saw eight wild turkeys walking through the cabin area, apparently in search of food. Obviously, these guys escaped the Thanksgiving festivities and felt it safe to make their presence known. After breakfast, it was clean-up time. Of the 60 or so who had been at the weekend retreat, perhaps 20-30 remained, so it was up to us to make sure everything was in ship shape. That was accomplished in short order and, after getting the thumbs-up from the park ranger, we retired for Meeting for Worship and then headed home.

Rather than fighting Interstate traffic on Thanksgiving Sunday, I happened to have the original GPS device in my car, aka a map, which I checked out and found an alternative, cross-country way back to Bradenton. Sure, it took a bit longer but I didn't have the headache of dodging other cars on the way back. It was so good to get back home. Unfortunately, the nights were fairly cool and I ended up contracting a cold. I'm doing a bit of sniffling and sneezing but, it was well worth it. Now that I know what Half Yearly Meeting is all about, I amadding it to my list for future years.

Visiting Mom

Finally, after a year of not seeing Mom, I was able to make it back up to Panama City, FL for a couple days. It's not that I haven't wanted to go up. It's simply that my overly protective wife, Pam, has been reluctant to let me make the trip, even tho' my cardiologist said it's okay.

Mom had an infection that was taking a toll on her. Taking antibiotics for it didn't set well with her body and she couldn't hold down her lunch or dinner. Playing the sympathy card, I was finally able to get Pam to set me free for a few days. I drove up on Monday, a very beautiful day for driving. The only hangup I encountered was crossing Tampa Bay between St. Petersburg and Tampa. The rush hour was pretty much over, but traffic came to a crawl. A ride that would normally take about the minutes ended up taking a half hour. Having to take the airport exit to get to the Veterans Expressway, as I got up to it, I then found out what the problem was--an accident that blocked one of the two exit lanes.

Once I made it past that, it was clear sailing. I had packed a sandwich to eat along the way and I was on a 40-mile stretch of highway between Cross City and Perry, FL. I knew there were no rest areas along the way, so I was hoping for someplace to pull off--a church; a ranger station; a gas station; anyplace. Unfortunately, such was not to be or about 25 miles. Finally, I came upon the Salem, FL post office which sat next to a derelict gas station--no doors, windows, or roof. Of course there was no place to relieve myself, so I went inside the station, walking over the crackling floor tiles and weeds which had taken over the floor in order to take care of business. After eating and getting back onto the road, I had an uneventful remainder of a trip and spent a couple hours with Mom when I got to P City.

Tuesday morning I stopped in to see her and plan the day. We decided that I'd return around noon and we'd head out to Carrabba's Italian Restaurant, a place she had never been. As I had picked up quite a few lovebugs on my way north, I knew I had to go to a car wash, so I did that before going over to visit my sister who also lives there (more about the car wash later). I picked up Mom at noon and we headed out to Panama City Beach and Carrabba's. Unfortunately, they weren't open for lunch, so we continued on to Pier Park, a large shopping center, to check out what might be available there for lunch. We spotted the Hofbrau, a German Bier Garten, so we decided that looked like a good place to eat. The weather was so beautiful--in the low 80s--we decided to eat on the patio. Mom had a couple of sausages (she could only eat one) and I had a weinerschnitzel. Each of us washed lunch down with a half liter of a great dark German bier. Neither of us could eat dinner that evening.

Wednesday was an off-day, as Mom was afraid she was catching a cold, as she was sneezing her her head was stopped up, so she just stayed inside and rested all day long. I killed the morning exploring a couple of large antique stores in beautiful downtown Panama City and polished off a chili-slaw dog (one of my college-day favorites) at Tom's Hot Dogs, a local institution. The rest of the day was spent, just chilling. That evening, after dinner, I stopped back at Glen Cove Nursing Pavilion, where Mom lives, and visited with her for a while before saying our goodbyes.

Thursday, heading back to Bradenton, I was reaching for my digital voice recorder, which I keep in the car to make notes. I couldn't find it in its usual spot, so I waited until I had a break to look further for it. I still couldn't find it, so I tore the car apart looking for it once I got back home around 5 PM, or so. No doubt it had been copped by one of the young persons who had dried off my car at the carwash, since it had been in its spot on the way up and only Mom and my brother, Gene along with his wife, Regina, had been in the car. I was a bit pissed because I've never had it missing when going through the local carwash here in Bradenton. I wrote a review of Waterworx Car Wash, which was not flattering at all, as well as calling the manager this morning to let him know of my experience and how pissed I was. I know he can not do anything about it, but at least I got to vent.

I'm now back in my usual routine and so very happy I was able to get up to see Mom. I had called her when I got home and she told me she was feeling great and feels it may have been her allergies kicking up. She stays inside, for the most part, and I suspect her problems stemmed from being outside for an extended period of time on Wednesday. After lunching on the Hofbrau patio, I pushed her around the shopping area in her wheelchair, and I imagine all that time outside took its toll on her sinuses. So happy she's feeling good once again.

Reflections on Troy Davis and the Death Penalty

Gandhi once said, "An eye for an eye leaves the whole world blind." Killing someone who may have killed another solves nothing. It does not deter anyone from taking someone else's life. There are those who say society has the right to put someone to death who has killed someone else. To those people I ask, "What right?" Just because a society might give itself the legal right to kill another does not make it right. No one has the moral right to take another's life.

American culture rejects the Middle Eastern practices of lopping off of a person's hand if they steal a loaf of bread or the stoning of an adulteress. We were disturbed when Kunta Kinte's foot was chopped off by his master after he managed to escape and was recaptureed. Are these practices any more barbaric than the taking of a human life? I submit they are not.

Death sentences, especially those in which there is serious doubt as to a person's guilt after they have been convicted, are reprehensible to every fiber of my being. Our legal system is rife with cases involving wrongly-convicted persons being sentenced to death. In January 2003 outgoing Illinois governor, George Ryan, commuted the death sentences of 167 persons on death row, largely because of the conduct of the Chicago Police Department and their lack of thorough investigations and targeted prosecutions in getting convictions and the death penalty in quite a few cases, many of which involving persons they simply didn't want to deal with any longer.

This summer I attended a presentation by the Innocence Project of Florida. The featured speaker was a man from Puerto Rico who had been convicted of the 1983 rape and murder of a 56 year old woman. The police had no leads or evidence point to anyone. However, a youngster made mention of a male he had seen in the area around the time of the murder. A junior high principal, overhearing the child's comment, said it sounded like Anthony Caravella, a student who attended his junior high school. The police eventually arrested Caravella and, after extensive interrogation, apparently involving sleep deprivation, charged him with the murder. His case was railroaded through the court system and he was convicted.

When the Floirida Innocence Project became involved, they read through all the police files and discovered there were several interviews with persons who vouched for Caravella's whereabouts at the time of the murder (in a nearby town, as I recall), but these interviews were never turned over to the district attorney's office. In addition, although there was no extensive DNA testing available in 1983, semen smears had been taken and preserved along with the other evidence. The DNA testing proved conclusively that Caravella could be excluded as a suspect in the rape and murder. That being the case, the court vacated his conviction and the State of Florida dropped all charges against him.

The point being that our system of justice is seriously flawed and these flaws result in the legalized murder of innocent persons. There was, and still are, serious doubts as to the culpability of Troy Davis for the murder for which he was put to death. While that makes no difference to Mr. Davis now, it does make a difference to me and should to all who believe in the American system. The death of a person cannot be undone. The legalized murder of an innocent person is particularly grievous and should never be tolerated.

Finally Connecting the Dots

(Composed on July 12, 2011)

I am sitting at home, right now, getting ready to watch the 2011 All Star Game. A year ago I was sitting at my sister-in-law's house in Seattle doing the same thing. This morning I met with my cardiologist who, in effect, discharged me. I don't have to see him until mid-November. My wife, Pam, was with me and we got to talking about how crappy I felt when watching the All Star Game llast year.

The day before, I went to the Boeing Museum of Flight. I remember getting a veggie wrap for lunch, but felt a bit bloated afterwards, not thinking anything about it. The next day I went to the Boeing Aircraft plant for a tour. I was feeling quite bloated and uncomfortable and, quite honestly, cannot recall if I even ate lunch. I really felt like crap and, as I was leaving, I asked one of the customer service reps if there was a pharmacy nearby. He directed me to one about a mile away, which I stopped at. Asking the pharmacist what he'd recommend for bloating, he suggested Gaviscon, as I recall. I took and chewed about 3 of the tablets and made my way back to Beth's house. That evening I called the Seattle V.A. hospital to get some advice, but was unable to get much. I just sat around and watched the game, uncomfortable though I was.

I had no further problems until early December when Pam and I were in Miami. I had put the Seattle experience completely out of my mind until this morning. In Miami I had the same bloated feeling, only worse this time. Acceding to Pam's wishes, I called 911 and was hospitalized whereupon I was diagnosed with atrial fibrilation. The rest is history.

While discussing matters with my cardiologist, Dr. Akella, this morning Pam brought up the Seattle episode and all of a sudden it hit me--the bloated feeling I had in Seattle was identical to the bloated feeling I had in Miami only not nearly as bad. I have had stomach problems all my life and I simply attributed the bloating to indigestion. Now, I know better.

Anyway, I was given a clean bill of health by Dr. Akella this morning and plan to be much more judicious in my choice of food.

Reflections on Casey and Caylee

The center ring of the 3 year old media circus has finally been cleared and the nation can (hopefully) get on with things that matter, really matter to all of us, not just the fate of one young woman. It is such a tragic shame that little Caylee met such a deplorable end. She appeared to be a happy and much-loved child and her life was cut way too short. Something like that should never happen to a young child.

People were shocked and stunned at the Not Guilty verdict rendered by the jury. I'll admit I was too. But, everyone seems to forget that the verdict by a jury of Ms. Anthony's peers exhibited the American system of jurisprudence worked as it should have. The state has the burden of proof. Ms. Anthony does not have to prove her innocence. If anything failed, it was the State of Florida and its prosecution of the case against her. They could not prove how little Caylee died; when she died; or who was responsible for her death. That was the basis of "Reasonable Doubt". Unless someone was caught red-handed or admitted killing the little one, then it is up to the state to prove to prove she died when, where and by what means she met her fate. True, the circumstantial evidence was enormous, but the state failed to carry its burden of proof.

Personally, I feel Casey probably did do it. But, it is now history. She had a smart attorney who, incidentally, had only been practicing for three years or so before taking on the case. Sure, he may have used what some would term "dirty tricks" in his defense of Casey, but his job was to create "reasonable doubt". That he did. He was not being paid to exonerate her. I also feel that O.J. probably hacked his wife and Ronald Goldman to death. But... he was also acquitted. Like it or not, that is the way our system works! The burden of proof is on the state, not on the accused. Like it or not, that is the way our system works and, for my money, it is still be best damn system ever devised by the mind of man.

Setting the Record Straight, Part 2

At last night's Marauders game my buddy, Jared, told me of the fallout from my confrontation with the Marauders pitching coach, Mike Steele. He (Jared) had told Trfevor Gooby, the Pirates Big Kahuna in Florida, of the "discussion" I had with Steele. Gooby then let Steele know that confrontation with the fans is unacceptable. Further, Steele had to relay that on to the team, telling them that any violations of the policy would lead to a demotion to the Pirates Low A team, the West Virginia Power, from Charleston, WV.

As far as I'm concerned, the incident is now history.