
<#FROWN:E01\>
Friendly Competition
These five runners prove that competition and camaraderie can go hand in hand.
By Elizabeth Kaufmann
Going for a run is one of the simplest ways to feel your body move - all you need is a good pair of shoes and a safe place to go. For the women profiled here, that feeling is enhanced by the camaraderie and competition of an all-women's race. The high spirits generated by women running with women and the collective letting-go of old fears and inhibitions keep women such as these returning to their favorite races year after year. Often, they surprise themselves - and others - with their accomplishments, be it a personal record or simply a newfound self-confidence.
Tufts 10K for Women
Lyn Licciardello
When Lyn Licciardello, 43, first ran the race now called the Tufts 10K for Women 15 years ago, her two daughters were "tiny little things." Then they grew, and when the elder one, Amy, turned 15 in 1989, mother and daughter stood together at the start of the Tufts 10K.
"Of all the running I've done, that race was a highlight," says Licciardello, a part-time nurse form North Andover, Massachusetts. "I love the feeling I get at the starting line, of all those women who are healthy and doing some activity together. It's just a joyous occasion. And I loved being able to have my daughter share that with me."
They didn't run together for long, however. "She beat me by a lot," laughs Licciardello. "She placed fourth in her age group. It topped off the day."
While her daughters excel as runners - North Andover High School freshman Crissy is a cross-country league all-star, and Amy runs cross-country at Quinnipiac College in Hamden, Connecticut - Lyn considers herself a regular person who runs to stay healthy and admits to having won a few age-group trophies.
She generally prefers mixed races and runs with her husband, Tom, but Tufts is the one exception, and she has run it every year. Big and prestigious, the race is nonetheless accessible, providing a forum for all levels of runners to hobnob with world-class athletes. One is local heroine Lynn Jennings, who won the first race when she was 17 and has recaptured the title several times since.
The course, too, has a distinctly local flavor, starting and ending at Boston Commons, with upwards of 4,000 women squeezing through the city's narrow streets. "One of the neat things about this race is that it turns back on itself several times so you can see the frontrunners coming," Licciardello says. "It's so electric because you're rooting for the winners at the same time you get to participate."
There's a feeling of camaraderie, too, that women don't get from a lot of things. "When I was in high school, we were told we weren't capable of running any distance," she says. "We covered a mile and a half in the gym, but they told us we had to walk part of it. A lot of women my age are afraid to run in events. But when they hear that just women are going to do this, and it's a real big thing and it's acceptable and they give you a long-sleeved shirt, they say, 'Maybe I can try that, and if there are that many women, then surely I won't come in last.' A lot of women run just this one race. That's why it's so great. It gets them out of a shell."
Nike Women's Race 8K
Henley Gibble
It's fitting that Nike asked Henley Gibble, 48, to serve as race director for the Nike Women's Race 8K in Washington, DC. She's as legendary to women's running as the shoe company is to the sport.
Gibble's love affair with running began in 1975, when she started running but couldn't find many kindred spirits. That changed in 1976, when she founded one of the first women's running clubs in the country, the Washington RunHers Unlimited Club. "We decided on purple for royalty and green for new beginnings, but there was no clothing made for women then - we had to wear men's polyester purple shorts and lime-green shirts," she recalls. "Everyone laughed at the hideous purple and green RunHers women coming, but they didn't laugh for long, because we started winning all the competitions. There was no one to run against us." Other clubs took note, and women's memberships blossomed, which was exactly what Gibble had hoped for.
Running transformed her, and over the years, she watched lots of other women build confidence as they got involved. Her activism continued, ranging from lobbying for the inclusion of a woman's marathon in the 1984 Olympics to improving police patrols of DC-area running trails and publishing a regular bulletin to keep women runners informed of recent attacks. She was the first woman president of the Road Runners Club of America, from 1986 to 1990, and is currently the club's first paid executive director. In 1989, Nike asked her to direct the women's 8K.
"The idea was to have a superb, high-quality event on a flat, fast course and build a reputation that this was a course not only for the elite woman runner who could set records, but also for the ordinary person out there," she says. A lot of money has gone into supporting the grass roots runner, says Gibble, including clinics the day before led by the elite athletes. Elite athletes are attracted to the race because it's fast and competitive, with good prize money - a total of $25,500 in 1991.
A dedicated runner herself with a marathon PR of 3:08, Gibble puts in 45 miles a week for personal fitness, running four to nine miles a day. "It's very much a part of my life, just like brushing my teeth," she says. She gets as much pleasure, however, from watching everybody else, and the 1991 Nike 8K was particularly moving. "We could see that Lynn [Jennings] was really close to breaking the world record, and when she got about 200 yards from the finish, she realized she could do it," she says. "Here's this woman who had just gone all out for the whole race, but she put on the afterburners and sped down the road. Everybody burst into tears when she crossed the finish line. She had done it."
Columbine Classic 5K
Juanita Keeler
Seven years ago, Juanita Keeler, 48, was flying an ultralight aircraft when she made a bad landing in an Illinois corn field. The accident broke her back and paralyzed her from the hips down. Eight months later, her husband of 21 years left. They had no children, and she was completely on her own.
She began to pick up the pieces of her life and moved to Denver. "I'd been doing a lot of experimentation: who I am, what I want to do, where I want to go in life," she says. Before the accident, she hated running. But as she searched for her real self, she decided to try racing. In 1988 she entered the Zoo Fun Run 10K to see if she could do the distance. "There was one other wheelchair entrant and he had a racing chair. I think it took me three times longer," she laughs. "I'd done absolutely no training, but I decided I liked it and would eventually get a racing chair. What blew me away was the camaraderie and encouragement that people gave me along the way."
In 1990 she bought the racing chair and entered every 5 - and 10K she could fit in. One was the all-women's Columbine Classic 5K, held each year in Denver's Washington Park. Started in 1978 by the Colorado Columbines running club, the event raises money for the Safe-House for Battered Women in Denver. With 4,373 finishers in 1991, the race raised $20,000 for the shelter. "It was a very neat experience being with all women and seeing the men and staffers and friends on the side cheering," says Keeler. "And what I really liked was the idea of women helping women."
In her brief racing career, she has already branched out into longer events, including the Midnight Sun Wheelchair Marathon, a nine-day, 367-mile extravaganza from Fairbanks to Anchorage, Alaska. The racers are timed as they cover a predetermined distance each day; camp moves each night, with motor homes provided for a maximum of 15 competitors. Keeler entered the race in 1991, the lone woman in a field of 12 men. Keeler, who says she had trained very little, finished the event, only the second woman in a manual chair to do so in the race's eight-year history.
Wheeling has become a soul-saving outlet for her. "I think when you're first injured you're a victim, and you have to get past that victim mentality," she says. "I wouldn't do things because I didn't want people to see me struggle. I finally came to the realization that if they didn't like it, they could look the other way. I was going to do what was good for me. So I race, and if I look funny, so what?"
Alaska Women's Run 10K
Marcie Trent
Marcie Trent, 74, started running when she was 50. She and her husband homesteaded on 160 acres in Anchorage in 1946 and raised five children there. Seventeen years later, her husband and eldest son were killed in a plane crash. After being widowed four years, she married Bill, a runner. She encouraged him to try the Fairbanks Marathon, and when he raved about the experience, she decided to walk it with him the following year. She ran a mile a day for six months, walked the marathon and almost finished within the runners' allotted time.
The next year, training just two miles a day, Trent ran the marathon. "That really got me excited," she says.
Trent was 60 for the premiere of the Alaska Women's Run 10K in Anchorage in 1978. She had already run the Boston Marathon at the age of 57, the oldest woman to do so at the time, finishing in 3:27:45. She proceeded to win the 60-and-older division of the Alaska run for 10 straight years. Then, even though she was racing against 60-year-olds (the race doesn't have a 70-and-older division), she placed in the top five until 1991. She holds national age group records for a one-hour run, half marathon and marathon.
In '91 the Alaska race attracted competitors from 25 states, plus one from Canada and one from Thailand. "It's just about the best-organized race in Alaska," she says. "The staff works on it 11 months a year, and it has grown from 257 people in 1978 to 3,095 this year. It's on a beautifully wooded bike trail that goes through the heart of Anchorage."
No prize money is offered, but it's nonetheless competitive. "Alaska women don't come in first any more," says Trent, "but that's OK. The majority of the women are there for the fellowship, and that's what makes it so outstanding."
Two years ago, Trent began suffering injuries, breaking both wrists and crushing some ribs. Her heigt shrank by three inches, and she was diagnosed with osteoporosis. "I've had to slow down," she says. Fortunately, her doctors haven't discouraged her from running. "Oh, no way," she says. "Exercise is supposed to be the best thing. If I can just keep going every day, I'll keep my bones strong. The only thing is, I don't run on pavement, and I don't bounce down hills like I used to."
She likes to train on trails with "people half my age," including two sons, one of whom runs at her pace. And she's always accompanied by D.O.G., her black lab whose mileage she tracks along with hers. "He's logged 25,000 miles in nine years," she says proudly.
Still, he's got 37,000 to go before catching up to her.
Susan G. Komen
Race for the Cure 5K
Becky McClenny-Stull
Becky McClenny-Stull, 35, has a personal reason for running in the Susan G. Komen Race for the Cure 5K each year in Dallas, which donates the proceeds to breast cancer prevention and research.
<#FROWN:E02\>
GROWING ROSES ORGANICALLY
IT'S EASIER THAN YOU THINK!
Many beauties are so disease-resistant all you need are their names, but we'll tell you how to get gorgeous flowers from the other kind, too!
By CATHERINE YRONWODE
Although cultivated roses are descended from hardy, vigorous wild brambles, many gardeners believe that they are tender, spindly little things that cannot be grown without a regular program of toxic spraying. "I love roses," one often hears, "but I just can't raise them organically!"
It's true that roses do fall victim to disease, especially to fungus attacks which damage their leaves, but it's also true that you don't have to spray them. At least not as much as you probably think, if you do some homework before you plant and select varieties with natural immunity to disease. And when you do spray, there are a number of safe, organic products that will prevent those diseases without kicking a hole in your garden's ecosystem.
This two-pronged approach - selecting disease-resistant varieties and handling diseases that do show up with environmentally friendly methods - will change your attitude toward roses forever. Once you see how easy organic cultivation can be, you'll wonder why you ever tried to grow roses any other way.
Let's start with disease resistance. Roses, like other plants, carry genes that may protect them from - or subject them to - a variety of diseases. Unfortunately, continued breeder emphasis on the look and color of the flowers alone has resulted in the loss of natural rose attributes such as drought tolerance, disease resistance and frost hardiness from many of today's most popular varieties.
BLACKSPOT
A look at one of the worst diseases of roses demonstrates how breeding for flower type has hurt plant health.
Blackspot (Diplocarpon rosae) is a fungus that causes black patches with fringed margins to form on the plant's leaves. It spreads by spores which develop rapidly when they land on wet foliage. Infected leaves soon turn yellow and fall to the ground, where they serve as launching pads for the next generation of spores.
Blackspot occurs throughout the United States. It is not a severe problem in warm areas with low summer rainfall, but in some climates, it can kill roses. Plants defoliated by blackspot try to grow new leaves as soon as possible. Undeveloped leaf-buds, which would have overwintered safely in dormancy, are forced into fall growth, leaving them insufficient time to harden off before winter. This results in frost-damage, dieback or even death.
Good cultivation practices (removing all fallen leaves and watering at ground level so the foliage stays dry) will help control blackspot. You should also consider planting one of the many blackspot-resistant varieties on the market. It may also help to understand how the disease came to be such a problem in the first place. Here's the story:
The wild Iranian rose, Rosa foetida, is a thorny, five-petaled yellow shrublet with a very limited habitat range. Unlike most wild roses, which tolerate all sorts of weather, temperature and soil conditions, this species demands dry heat, full sun and sandy soil. Because it evolved in a climate where the water-dependent blackspot fungus did not thrive, Rosa foetida never had to develop resistance or tolerance to this common disease.
"So what ?" you ask. "I wasn't interested in growing it anyway."
Ah, but it is this species that has cursed many modern roses with both fungicide-dependency and the heightened threat of winterkill.
Domesticated hybrid roses originated in the gardens of ancient Rome and China. From pre-history until the end of the 19th century, almost every hybrid rose in the world had been bred in a temperate, moist climate from species that were either resistant to blackspot or tolerated it without complete defoliation.
These 'heritage roses' - classified into family groups such as alba, china, damask, gallica, polyantha, banksia, hybrid musk, wichuraiana, hybrid perpetual and rugosa - were limited in color mostly to scarlet, pink or white. The search for a vivid yellow rose brought a double form of Rosa foetida named PERSIANA into the hands of gifted French breeder Joseph Pernet-Ducher. In 1893, he finally accomplished the difficult cross between PERSIANA and a hybrid perpetual rose. This mating eventually produced a fabulous golden-orange seedling called SOLEIL D'OR, the ancestor of most modern hybrid teas and floribundas whose flowers are yellow, orange or fiery-red. But these new colors came at a terrible price: susceptibility to blackspot.
Imagine for a moment now that instead of roses, we were discussing tomatoes. Would you rush right down to the nursery and buy plants known to be susceptible to verticillium or fusarium wilt if those fungal diseases were common in your area? Of course not - you'd ask for disease-resistant varieties. You know that prevention of disease is half the organic battle, and that selection of resistant varieties is the simplest way to sidestep the battle entirely.
Well, that's the way to sidestep the battle of blackspot on roses: grow varieties that are not descended from Rosa foetida! In practice, this means growing heritage roses, varieties that were popular before the introduction of Rosa foetida genes made blackspot a household word among rosarians. These 'old roses' (and many new ones unrelated to Rosa foetida) are numerous. All you need to know is what to ask for. Among the heritage roses you will find virtually every type of plant, including huge, spring-flowering shrubs, magnificent climbers, charming dwarf bushes and Arctic-hardy hedges. Yes, most blackspot-resistant roses are white, pink or scarlet - but what they lack in color range they more than make up for in trouble-free growing.
POWDERY MILDEW
Before you send away for those blackspot-resistant heritage roses, do yourself a favor and cross varieties known to be susceptible to powdery mildew (Sphaerotheca pannosa rosae) off your buying list. This fungus grows on the surface of the foliage, covers the plant with white felt-like spores, causes leaves to curl up and turn purple, and makes flower buds die without opening.
Ugly as it is, powdery mildew does not kill plants, and many roses in many classes are resistant to it. In general, only wichuraianas, chinas, and polyanthas, plus a few red and dark-pink hybrid teas, are significantly susceptible to this disease and even they can be helped. Powdery mildew spreads fastest among drought-stressed plants when evenings are cool and the air is humid and still - conditions common in California and the Southwest, especially if you give your roses a nice sprinkler bath when you come home from work. To deny this fungus a foothold, space plants far enough apart to ensure good air circulation, mulch them with compost to prevent drought-stressing, and irrigate at ground level in the morning or afternoon to discourage humid conditions at dusk.
RUST
If you live on the West Coast, where rose rust fungus (Phragmidium disciflorum) is a serious problem, avoid varieties known to be susceptible to it. Rust covers entire plants with tiny spores that resemble bright-orange curry powder. Like blackspot, it causes defoliation severe enough to weaken plants and hasten their demise. Luckily, the number of varieties resistant to rust is great, and when a rose is resistant to rust, it is almost completely immune (unlike blackspot, for which 'resistance' often means simply 'tolerance').
ANTHRACNOSE
Anthracnose (Sphaceloma rosarum) fungus causes circular white dots with reddish margins to form on the leaves. It mostly attacks climbing roses with glossy foliage, but it's not deadly. Its range extends along the Atlantic and Pacific coasts, and from the Gulf Coast up into Arkansas. In my experience, varieties resistant to blackspot seem to be resistant to anthracnose as well. It is more common on varieties that get powdery mildew.
DOWNY MILDEW
Entirely different from powdery mildew, Peronospora sparsa is a serious problem only on greenhouse and exhibition roses. Characterized by yellowish blotches on the topsides of leaves and grayish 'down' on the undersides, it can lead to complete defoliation. Downy mildew requires continuous high humidity and low air circulation for its growth, so it is not often found on outdoor plants. Most varieties resistant to blackspot and powdery mildew are also resistant to downy mildew.
COMBATING FUNGAL DISEASE
Planting fungus-resistant heritage rose varieties is the biggest step you can take toward disease-free organic rose-growing. But if the bright colors of modern hybrid teas and floribundas tempt you, or if you've already planted such roses and now want to wean them from toxic sprays, don't despair. It's easy to treat even these 'tender' plants the safe, organic way.
Start with regular cultural cleanliness: Pick up and burn - do not compost! - infected leaves. Always water roses at their bases, never on their leaves. Interplant blackspot-susceptible varieties with those that do not develop the disease; this will cut down the speed with which water-splashed spores can travel through your garden. Avoid heavy doses of nitrogen; the resulting lush, sappy growth readily falls prey to blackspot, rust and especially powdery mildew. Mulch with compost; this has been shown to help prevent disease in almost all plants, including roses.
As a last resort, spray - but not with toxics. For powdery mildew, try a solution of baking soda (3 tablespoons per gallon of water), an old-time remedy that works well when applied at the first sign of infection. Here in Northern California, sulfur dust, wettable sulfur in solution (2 heaping tablespoons per gallon of water) or Safer's Garden Fungicide spray (a sulfur-based product) applied once or twice per season will keep blackspot, powdery mildew and other fungus diseases down to acceptable levels on all but the most susceptible plants. In other areas, you need to spray more often.
(Don't use sulfur when the temperature is above 85<*_>degree<*/> F; the foliage may burn.)
And don't waste baking soda or sulfur on your resistant varieties - a truly fungus-resistant rose will be able to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with an infected one and never lose a leaf to illness.
THE FUNGUS-FREE LIST
If reading about those rose diseases scared you a bit, now's the time to relax. A list that included every fungus-resistant rose would fill a book. I grow about 350 varieties myself, spray only once a year (with sulfur) and have little trouble with disease. There are hundreds of widely available old-fashioned varieties - even whole classes of varieties - that are as disease-resistant as a rose can be.
Some may perform better than others in areas with different climates, so check the catalog descriptions carefully. When you order, tell the supplier that you want to choose varieties that can be grown organically in your area, and ask if your choices are suitable. Here are some of my favorites:
HYBRID MUSKS: This class of highly fungus-resistant shrub and semi-climbing roses derives from complex crosses between Rosa moschata ('musk rose'), R. multiflora ('many-flowered rose'), and various cultivated roses. Developed primarily between 1900 and 1930, hybrid musks bear their flowers in large clusters and bloom repeatedly throughout the summer. They are the most shade-tolerant of roses. They should not be pruned except to eliminate crossing or weak branches. BELINDA and BALLERINA are similar in name and form; BELINDA bears large, erect trusses of single, light-pink flowers on a 7-foot shrub, while BALLERINA has clusters of bright-pink flowers with white eyes on a 5-foot shrub. PAX and PROSPERITY both bear clusters of white semi-double flowers on 7-foot shrubs.
BUFF BEAUTY may be the finest hybrid musk. It forms a 7-foot shrub with clusters of full, biscuit-colored blossoms that fade to white in the sun; its fragrance is more like a pineapple-banana fruit smoothie than a traditional 'rose' scent.
HYBRID RUGOSAS:This class of shrub roses derives from the wild Asian seaside species R. rugosa ('wrinkly rose'). The tough and distinctly wrinkled rugosa leaves foil most fungal attacks except rust, and rugosas have the additional benefits of being salt and drought tolerant and exceptionally frost hardy. Although they naturally form large bushes, they can be kept within bounds by light pruning. The best known varieties are F.J. GROOTEN-DORST (clusters of dark-pink double flowers that are serrated like carnations), PINK GROOTENDORST (exactly like F.J., but medium pink), FIMBRIATA (like a white GROOTENDORST), and HANSA (a striking purple semi-double).
<#FROWN:E03\>
ESCAPE FROM WAKE ISLAND
BY JOHN ELOTT WITH WILLIAM W. MOSS
The short, squat soldier with khaki leggings kicked through the rubble of the bomb-shattered building. A gleam of metal caught his eye and he stooped over for a closer look. Picking up the soiled white cap, he stared at the gold insignia attached just above the still glossy visor. Since he could not read the inscription, he assumed it belonged to one of the American defenders who had surrendered the island to him and his comrades a few days earlier. He tore it from the cloth brow and stuffed it in his pocket. It would make a nice souvenir. What the Japanese soldier did not know was that the former owner of the hat almost became one of his prisoners. Wake Island. December 8, 1941. It was the worst of times. But 36 of the island's occupants had a way out. All they had to do was get an overloaded, bullet-riddled airplane into the air and across an ocean now dominated by the Japanese Navy.
The Vought-Sikorsky Vindicator banked sharply over the bow of the USS Lexington as the aircraft carrier knifed sleekly through the blue Pacific 1,000ft (300m) below. Now parallel to the ship, the silver dive bomber continued on a reverse course until it was abeam of the carrier's stern. Attempting to maintain a 30-second interval between himself and the preceding aircraft, the pilot pulled the airplane once more to the left, rolling out of his turn a half-mile (0.8km) behind the carrier and a scant 100ft (30m) above the water. Speed was critical - no more than 5-10kt (9-18km/h) above the stall. A slight drift to port prompted an immediate reaction from the Landing Signal Officer (LSO), and the pilot corrected his alignment. With the aircraft now solidly in the 'slot', the LSO signaled the pilot to cut his power. The airplane flashed across the stern of the ship and settled heavily on the deck, an arresting cable deftly snaring its tail hook and bringing it to an abrupt halt. Ensign William W. Moss had successfully completed his 103rd carrier landing.
As a glider pilot, Bill Moss was already well-versed in the fundamentals of flight when he entered the US Navy in November 1935. After winning his wings at Pensacola a year later, Moss joined the 'Flying Panther' Dive Bomber Squadron and eventually served on all three carriers assigned to the Pacific Fleet. But today's landing would also be his last. His tour of duty was up, and when the fleet returned to San Diego he would bid his shipmates farewell and head for Brownsville, Texas. Newly hired by Pan American Airways, he would report for duty in December 1939.
Following training and indoctrination, Moss was deemed qualified to occupy the right-hand seat in Pan American's Douglas DC-2s and new DC-3s, and began flying down through Mxico to Central America and the West Indies. Later he would be based in Trinidad and then re-assigned once again to Brownsville.
In spring 1941, Bill Moss was transferred to Pan American's Pacific Division based at Treasure Island, San Francisco Bay. He was in the big leagues now, treading where such legendary figures as Edwin C. Musick, R. O. D. 'Rod' Sullivan, and Fred Noonan had made aviation history on board the China Clipper in 1935. The culmination of years of planning and preparation, the inaugural flight to Manila on November 22, 1935, also represented the fulfillment of a dream for Pan American founder, Juan T. Trippe. Using his 'stepping stones across the Pacific', Trippe had demonstrated that flying to the Orient, if not practical, was at least possible.
Two more Martin 130 flying boats, the Hawaii Clipper and the Philippine Clipper, soon joined their more famous sistership, and by the end of 1935, weekly service to Manila had been established. Although no passengers would be carried until the following year, Pan American's Pacific Division was in business. The endeavor proved to be a risky venture, however, and, after four years of operations, the Pacific routes had yet to make any money for Trippe. Undaunted, he commissioned the Boeing company in Seattle, Washington, to build an even bigger airplane and, in early 1939, the first of 12 Boeing 314 flying boats was delivered to a Pan American ferry crew waiting at Astoria, Oregon. Even then, there was a way around Washington's state sales tax. The truly colossal Boeings were a welcome addition to the Pacific fleet, now reduced to two airplanes following the loss of the Hawaii Clipper between Guam and Manila in July 1938.
Following his arrival at Treasure Island, Moss was immediately assigned to one of the big Boeings as, in his words, "Fifth Officer in Charge of Mail Sacks." But new responsibilities came quickly and by the end of 1941, Moss was functioning alternately as navigator and relief pilot.
Because crews and equipment were cross-utilized, Bill Moss was not surprised to find himself assigned to the Philippine Clipper for a trans-Pacific crossing in December 1941. But it came about mainly as a result of happenstance. A first attempt by a different crew had been thwarted by strong winds and forced to return to San Francisco. To abort, even when half-way across, was not uncommon. The 2,400mi (3,850km) leg between San Francisco and Hawaii was the longest non-stop segment flown by any airline in the world. Theoretically, the Martin 130 had that kind of range. But since ground speed seldom matched airspeed, distance could not always be measured by time aloft. Endurance was, in itself, no guarantee of a timely arrival in Hawaii.
Glenn Martin's engineers had built a remarkable airplane. Still, the Model 130 was based on technology developed in the preceding decade and only 30 years removed from mankind's first powered flight. It was improvements in other fields that made it possible for its crews to successfully complete the flight to Hawaii more often than not. Modern meteorology now bore little resemblance to the fanciful prognostications contained in the Old Farmers Almanac. New scientific techniques permitted forecasters to predict the weather with exceptional accuracy. In fact, Pan American meteorologists provided pilots with a variety of tracks to select from so that they could take advantage of the most favorable winds.
Then there were the new radio direction finders, the brainchild of Trippe's electronics wizard, Hugo Leuteritz. Although celestial navigation and dead reckoning were still in use, Leuteritz developed a system that would require neither clear skies or guesswork. Utilizing a modified version of the British-designed Adcock Direction Finder, base stations could take precise bearings on a flight while it was still hundreds of miles away, as well as providing close-in assistance when the aircraft was on approach. While not infallible, it would play a vital role in navigating the vast reaches of the Pacific. Without it, scheduled air service to the Pacific probably would not have been possible. But Trippe had remained apprehensive about the reliability of the apparatus, and did not approve its use until the eve of the first survey flight to Hawaii in April 1935.
Even with his modern equipment, Trippe still had a problem. The nemesis, it seems, was fuel. Although the Martin 130 could carry just over 4,000USg (15,000l) of gasoline, that represented almost half of its maximum gross weight. As a result, the traffic department and flight operations were seldom in agreement on the ration of fuel versus payload. Traffic complained that for every gallon of gasoline that was carried, 6lb (2.7kg) of payload had to be left behind on the loading dock. Operations contended that is where those pounds would end up anyway if the airplane had to turn back. Obviously, a compromise was always struck.
OFF TO HAWAII
At 1545, Flight 1551 once again eased away from the float at Treasure Island. It was December 3, 1941, and with the Philippine Clipper now under the command of Capt John Hamilton, a second attempt would be made to get across to Hawaii. Under full throttle, the big flying boat lifted slowly from the waters of San Francisco Bay and a few minutes later made its traditional pass over the Golden Gate Bridge. Ahead of them lay 2,400mi (3,850km) of open sea and a minimum of 18 hours flying.
At 500ft (150m), Capt Hamilton called for 'rated power', and then 'climb power' when the altimeter indicated 1,000ft (300m). All engine functions, including propeller pitch and synchronization, were now handled by Flight Engineer Ed Barnett up in the cabanecabine, a small, cramped enclosure located just forward of the wing root. In the right-hand pilot's seat, First Officer William Moss kept an eye on cylinder head temperatures which were always a concern on take-off. While the cowl flaps would vent much of the engine's heat, the drag that they created placed some constraints on their use.
Immediately behind Moss, Flight Radio Officer Don McKay was preparing to send his first radio report. Company regulations required all flights to communicate with a base station every 15 minutes, even though such contacts might consist of nothing more than an exchange of abbreviated 'Q' signals. For example, 'QTP' meant 'I have left port' (outbound), or 'I have entered port' (inbound); 'QWC' informed the circuit that the operator was momentarily away from his station answering nature's call. A 'short' report every 30 minutes provided base stations with the flight's position, altitude and fuel quantity. Hourly, a 'long' report included detailed weather information and ground speed 'made good' during the previous 60 minutes. Although the airplanes were equipped with a radio-telephone for short-range communication, all other traffic was transmitted by short-wave radio using international Morse Code.
In the cockpit behind the pilots, Navigator John Hrutky began calculating their position even before the Marin Headlands were out of sight. He would use the bearing provided by the San Francisco DF as long as the signal remained stable. Later, if there were no cloud cover, he would confirm his plots by thrusting an octant through an open hatch at the rear of the aircraft to get a fix from the stars.
Capt Hamilton leveled off at 5,000ft (1,500m). At a leisurely 300ft (91m) per minute, the climb-out had taken almost 15 minutes. Flight Engineer Barnett refined the fuel mixtures and began monitoring his fuel flow meters. How fast they were using their fuel was more important than how much. Fuel remaining would become meaningful only after he had determined how long it would last.
Now configured for maximum fuel economy, the aircraft began flying itself as Capt Hamilton engaged the Sperry Automatic Pilot. The instrument would keep the plane in reasonably level flight, but would require frequent monitoring and adjustment to hold the aircraft at a constant altitude and on the heading specified by the navigator.
Back in the passenger cabin, Steward Charlie Relyea scanned the passenger list again, looking for familiar names. Normally, there would have been a sprinkling of celebrities - movie stars, diplomats, industrialists. But since the war began in Europe, most seats now were occupied by men in uniform. He began preparations for an elaborate six-course dinner which would include appetizers, fruit salad, soup, a hot entree and dessert. And, even on the flying boats, there was a choice of coffee, tea or milk.
Darkness came quickly and within an hour and a half after leaving San Francisco, the stars were the only visible external point of reference. Periodically, Third Officer Elwood Leep relieved his fellow crew members, a function Bill Moss had performed maymany times and which he had relinquished without regret. It was a thankless job, although essential training for a pilot who someday hoped to earn the coveted title 'Master of Ocean Flying Boats'.
At the equi-time point, Flight Engineer Barnett calculated their fuel quantity based on their rate of consumption since leaving San Francisco. It compared favorably with the gauges and should be sufficient to get them the rest of the way across. Navigator Hrutky concurred. Clear skies had permitted him to obtain star sights during most of the flight, and with bearings now being provided by the Pearl City DF, he felt confident about their position.
<#FROWN:E04\>
CD PORTABLES:
THE BEETHOVEN TEST
Ken Pohlmann takes five of the newest, smallest CD players through their paces in the city of Beethoven.
THE Viennese customs inspector was not amused. He looked bored when I pulled out the Kenwood. He smiled when I produced the Denon. He frowned when the Technics and JVC hit the counter. Then his eyebrows danced when the Sony joined the pile. What was this American up to? Smuggling portable compact disc players into Austria?
I quickly explained to him that I was conducting an important test for STEREO REVIEW, that although many reviewers test portable players while sitting in front of their word processors or perhaps while walking their dogs, I was attempting something a good deal more significant. I explained that I was bringing five of the best CD portables to Vienna to challenge them with her demanding resident: Ludwig van Beethoven. I would study them in his old haunts, pound them the way he pounded his pianos, and listen to them with his music. It would be the ultimate cultural, physical, and sonic test. The inspector pondered all that, perhaps considered calling airport security, then waved me through.
Denon DCP-150 on Probusgasse 6
I boarded the bus to the City Air Terminal at Landstrasse, and half an hour later I caught the U4 subway line to Heiligenstadt. Beethoven moved eighty times during his thirty-five-year stay in Vienna. He was constantly in flux because of landlords nagging him about money or noise, but most of all because of his own restless, temperamental nature. The house on Probusgasse 6 probably stood etched in his memory, however, because it was there, despairing over his encroaching deafness and continuing poverty, that he poured out his pessimistic emotions in the Heiligenstadt Testament. Sitting in the courtyard of the house where Beethoven lived and suffered in the summer of 1802, and wrote the Second Symphony, I reached into my knapsack, pulled out the first player, the Denon DCP-150, and loaded in a disc of the Second Symphony.
The DCP-150 is the bulkiest among the five portables I tested, but it offers several unique features, such as a built-in remote-control receiver. The top surface contains a button to mechanically release the clamshell lid and buttons for forward and reverse track skipping (fast search in forward or reverse when held down), play/pause, and stop. The front of the chassis sports a versatile Mode button that sequences through eight modes of operation: track repeat, disc repeat, random track playback, disc repeat with random tracks, track programming (up to thirty-two tracks), disc repeat with programmed tracks, random playback of program tracks, and disc repeat with random programmed tracks. A Set button changes the time display from elapsed time in the track to remaining time in the track to total remaining time. Volume control is handled with a rotary potentiometer.
The liquid-crystal display shows track numbers and timings and has indicators for battery strength, track programming, random playback, and other functions. A shortcoming: The display is unlighted even when the unit is powered via AC. Nestled beside the display is the sensor window for the integral remote-control receiver. The chassis itself is finished with a suede-like material that has a nice feel and helps you keep a secure grip on the player.
The right side of the DCP-150 has a headphone jack and a three-way slider for tone control: flat, bass boost, or bass and treble boost. Another three-way switch selects normal playback, a hold function that disables transport controls, or a resume function that returns the laser pickup to where it was when the unit was last switched off. Around back is a 6-volt DC input jack.
The left side of the chassis contains jacks for analog and digital audio output. The coaxial digital output employs a mono mini-jack connector (an adaptor cable would be required to change it to a standard phono-jack connector). Optical digital outputs are more common on home CD players, but many portables have started using this kind of coaxial output. Underneath the chassis are not one but two battery compartments, each holding a rechargeable battery, and they can be used singly for 2 hours of playing time or together for 4 hours.
The wireless remote control has twenty-five buttons. There are buttons to control the transport, select operating modes (such as random track playback), adjust the volume, and switch the power on, along with an eleven-key key numeric keypad. When you use the remote, the display changes accordingly; for example, the timing display changes to show a numeric volume setting.
THE DCP-150 employs an eight-times-oversampling digital filter with dual 18-bit digital-to-analog (D/A) converters. The converters are made by Analog Devices and are the same ones found in some expensive home CD players. The DCP-150's power supply senses whether battery or AC power is being used. When you're using batteries, the maximum output level is reduced to conserve power. (A high output is needed to maximize signal-to-noise ratio in the output to a home system, when you would be using AC power, but it's not needed to drive headphones directly in portable use with batteries.)
The DCP-150 comes with a soft vinyl-and-fabric carrying case, a stereo connecting cable, and an AC adaptor/charger. One rechargeable battery is supplied, and more are available as optional accessories. A stand-alone recharger is also available.
I liked the Denon player's human engineering (ergonomics). All the transport buttons are grouped together on top, and when they're pressed they respond with a nice tactile click. The Mode button nicely consolidates the functions of many different buttons- it is a simple matter to sequence through them to find the one you want. I also liked the textured case, which is practical and pleasant to hold.
Although the DCP-150's metal construction makes it quite heavy (at 24 ounces it's almost twice as heavy as the next heaviest player in our test group, the Sony), it imparts a solidity that is aesthetically more pleasing than the lightness of plastic; and it also makes the player more immune to damage from accidental drops. The label on the top of the player calls it a 'Precision Audio Component,' and that's not an exaggeration.
Best of all was the solidity of the sound quality. As I listened to the Second Symphony, gazing into the window where Beethoven must have gazed out, I felt that the DCP-150 was delivering everything that Beethoven intended us to hear. Who knows, if he had owned a DCP-150, perhaps that summer of 1802 might have been a happier one for him.
JVC XL-P90 On Hauptstrasse 92
From Heiligenstadt it is only a short uphill walk to the D<*_>o-umlaut<*/>bling district and the house on Hauptstrasse 92 where Beethoven lived in 1803. It was a charming house in Beethoven's time, owned by a vinegar maker, and set in a row of small houses; a narrow meadow separated it into two parts. He worked on his Third Symphony while living there, and I put a compact disc of it into the JVC XL-P90, the smallest of the players I tested. It measures a mere 5/8 inch thick, with an overall size approximately equal to two stacked jewel boxes.
There are eight buttons on the top cover. One pops the clamshell lid, one starts and pauses playback, and one stops playback, turns off the player, and clears the track memory. A Memory button is used to program sequences of up to twenty tracks, a Random/Intro button selects either random track playback or plays the first 15 seconds of each track, a repeat button repeats either a track or an entire disc, and a pair of forward/backward buttons provide either track skipping or two-speed audible fast search. The front of the chassis contains a thumbwheel for volume control. The display on top shows track numbers and timings and has indicators for low battery, repeat, random playback, and so on. The display is lighted when the unit is powered through its AC adaptor.
THE right side of the chassis has connectors for audio line output, DC power input, and headphone output. There is also a three-way slide switch for flat response and two levels of bass boost, which affects only the headphone output. The left side has connectors for a coaxial digital output (using a minijack) and for JVC's proprietary Compu Link-1 remote-control system. There is also a slide switch to turn the resume-playback function on and off or select both resume-playback and a hold function. There are no user controls on the back of the unit, but there is a screw mount and two mounting pins for attaching an external battery pack. A battery compartment on the chassis's underside holds two flat rechargeable batteries, providing about 1 1/2 hours of playback time.
The clamping spindle has three spring-loaded plastic tabs to secure the disc, and these undoubtedly provide a firmer grasp and greater impact immunity than the usual loading system. The output section contains a pair of 1-bit D/A converters.
Although I left most of the accessories at home in Miami, several come with the XL-P90: a DC adaptor for powering the player from a car's cigarette lighter, an audio adaptor for playing it through a car's cassette deck, two rechargeable batteries, an AC battery charger/adaptor, a stereo audio cable, an external AA battery case, a soft vinyl carrying case, and a pair of earphones. Optional accessories include a wireless remote control and a 'home audio station unit,' a docking chassis that contains a wireless remote receiver, a battery recharger, and phono-jack outputs and other input, output, and power connector.
As I boarded the U4 subway for the quick ride back to Schottenring, I examined the XL-P9. It is a handsome player with robust yet lightweight metal construction. The quality of its manufacture is apparent, but its small size presents some problems. In particular, the buttons are quite tiny. Often-used buttons such as forward and backward track skip are difficult to push without pressing nearby buttons as well. That makes the player awkward to use, particularly when you are on the move. The sound quality was good but somehow did not particularly impress me. Still, if small size is your paramount concern, the JVC is about as small as a CD player will ever get.
Sony D-515 Discman On M<*_>o-umlaut<*/>lkerbastei 8
At Schottenring, I switched to the U2 subway and took a quick ride to Schottentor. The apartment building I was looking for, on M<*_>o-umlaut<*/>lkerbastei street, was only a block away from the subway station. Beethoven returned to the apartment at M<*_>o-umlaut<*/>lkerbastei 8 again and again, and he occupied it for longer periods than any of his other residences. While living there he worked on the Fourth and Fifth Symphonies, Fidelio, the Violin Concerto, and a host of other compositions. I loaded the D-515 Discman as I walked through a low corridor and climbed the hundred steps to his fourth-story apartment.
From a styling standpoint, the D-515 is a radical departure from earlier Sony CD portables. Gone are the squared corners and silver edge trim, replaced by rounded contours and a hand grip. In short, the D-515 looks like no other Sony CD player and, indeed, seems to represent an entirely fresh approach to the design of portable CD players. The sides and bottom are made of a rubbery plastic that provides a firm, no-slip grip; this is enhanced by a contoured hand grip across the back of the case. The top of the case is shiny metal, with a striking finish.
There are six buttons on top of the player. The Play Mode button sequences through four modes: Intro mode, which plays the beginning of each track on a disc; 1 mode, which repeats one track; Shuffle mode, which plays all tracks in random order; and RMS mode, which is used to program up to twenty-two tracks. The repeat/enter button is used to repeat a whole disc, and in the RMS mode the same button is used in conjunction with the forward and backward track-skip buttons to select and program tracks.
<#FROWN:E05\>
Presidential pups
In Part II, the author looks at the White House dogs from the Harding administration on
By Terry Sue Shank
Whether the creator planned it so, or environment and human companionship have made it so, men may learn richly through the love and fidelity of a brave and devoted dog. Such loyalty might easily add luster to a crown of immortality."
When Ohio newspaper editor Warren Gamaliel Harding wrote those words in The Marion Daily Star on March 11, 1913, as part of his impassioned editorial condemning the cruel poisoning of Hub, a neighbor's beloved Boston Terrier, he had no way of knowing he would one day become America's 29th president. It is not at all surprising, then, that he lavished so much affection upon the first gift he received after moving into the White House - a small Airedale puppy.
As a rule, Harding didn't have any special favorites among the dogs in his life; he appreciated each one as an individual with its won distinctive personality. But when Caswell Laddie Boy arrived on the scene, a gift from an old friend, Marshall Sheppey of Toledo, OH, it soon became clear that the precocious pup, with his beguiling bright eyes, cocked head and intelligent face, was the undisputed No. 1 presidential pet.
Within a few short weeks, Harding's energetic, extroverted Airedale was a national celebrity. Laddie Boy, who took his White House responsibilities seriously, had his own valet and a busy social calendar and was even known to sit in on important Cabinet meetings in his own special chair.
In 1921, when the Hardings decided to resume the traditional White House Easter egg roll, which had been discontinued during World War I, it was Laddie Boy who was there to greet the children and amuse himself and the happy crowd by frolicking about the lawn retrieving colored eggs. And on May 11 of that same year, when the Humane Education Society held a Be Kind to Animals parade, it was first dog Laddie Boy, seated with dignity atop his own float, who led the procession through the streets of Washington, D.C.
Laddie Boy became so well-known, both nationally and internationally, that on July 17, 1921, the editorial section of the Washington Star printed a mock interview with the famous pet that ran for nearly an entire page and included two editorial cartoons. In that tongue-in-cheek article, Laddie Boy gave his opinions on some of the most prominent issues of his day. He commented on the flock of sheep President Wilson had allowed to graze on the White House lawn during World War I, spoke out against a ban on Mexican hairless dogs and advocated an eight-hour day for America's watch dog population. The eloquent Airedale talked about Prohibition and discussed his view of such notables as Thomas Edison, Albert Einstein and the entire Harding Cabinet.
When President Harding died suddenly on August 2, 1923, during a tour of the western U.S., Laddie Boy mourned with the nation. The next day the Associated Press carried the following news item: "There was one member of the White House household today who couldn't quite comprehend the air of sadness which overhung the executive mansion. It was Laddie Boy, President Harding's Airedale friend and companion. Coming to the White House a raw-boned, callow pup, Laddie Boy has, in two years, grown to the estate of dignity and wholesome respect for his official surroundings."
Immediately after Harding's death, the Boston Newsboys' Association began a campaign to commission a statue of Laddie Boy to be presented to Florence Harding in honor of her late husband, the newspaperman who had become president. Every newsboy in America was asked to donate one penny of his paper route money. Those pennies were then melted down and sculpted into a life-size statue of the famous dog by artist Bashka Paeff. Laddie Boy posed for at least 15 sittings.
Sadly, Florence died before the newsboys' gift could be presented to her. That statue of Laddie Boy is today on display in the Smithsonian Museum of American History of Washington, D.C. It bears the simple inscription "Cast From Newsboys' Pennies, In Memory Of Their Friend, Warren Gamaliel Harding."
Upon Harding's unexpected death, his vice president, Calvin Coolidge, was sworn in as the 30th president of the U.S. The White House became the new home for Calvin and Grace Coolidge, their two teen-age sons, dozens of birds, two cats, a racoon named Rebecca and "an abundance of dogs."
Included among the Coolidges' canine collection were the Chows Timmy and Blackberry; Peter Pan, a Wire Fox Terrier; a fun-loving Shetland Sheepdog named Calamity Jane; and Ruby Rough, an affectionate brown Collie. And despite the fact that the Coolidges also owned Airedale Paul Pry, half-brother to Harding's devoted Laddie Boy, the presidential couple were probably most closely identified with their two beautiful white Collies. Grace Coolidge had dubbed the elegant pair Rob Roy (after a Highland outlaw in a novel by Sir Walter Scott) and Prudence Prim (for her sweet, feminine nature).
Prudence Prim was especially attached to Grace. The ladylike Collie accompanied the first lady almost everywhere, and even slept by her bed at night. At tea time, proper Prudy moved politely from guest to guest in a most mannerly way. And when Grace made Prudence a straw bonnet trimmed with ferns and green satin ribbons, the fashionable Collie became a hit at White House garden parties. (A fine pastel on velvet portrait of Grace Coolidge and Prudence Prim, painted by G. Jacoby in 1925, is now on exhibit in the visitors' center at Calvin Coolidge's birthplace in Plymouth, VT.)
Rob Roy belonged to Calvin Coolidge, or perhaps it was vice versa. The handsome dog, whose only bad habit was chasing cars, slept in his master's room, attended press conferences, and often lay at the president's feet as he entertained world leaders and talked politics. Occasionally guests expressed the opinion that Coolidge paid more attention to Rob Roy than he did to them.
Even though Prudence Prim was Grace's dog, the first lady's official White House portrait was painted with Rob Roy at her side. When Howard Chandler Christy arrived at the executive mansion to paint the portrait, he requested that Grace wear a red gown as contrast against the blue sky and snowy white Collie. Calvin objected; he wanted his wife to wear a white brocade satin gown which he especially liked. "If it's contrast you want," he told her solemnly, "why not wear white and paint the dog red?" The president's veto was overridden. Christy's portrait of Rob Roy and Grace (wearing her red dress) now graces a wall in the White House China Room.
Of Rob Roy's death in September 1928, Calvin Coolidge later wrote:"He was a stately gentleman of great courage and fidelity. He loved to bark from the second-story windows and around the south grounds. Nights he remained in my room and afternoons went with me to the office. His especial delight was to ride with me in the boats when I went fishing. So although I know he would bark for joy as the grim boatman ferried him across the dark waters of the Styx, yet his going left me lonely in the hither shore."
There was at least one political animal who would have preferred that his master had never been elected to the highest office in the land. King Tut, Herbert Hoover's Belgian Sheepdog, never did adjust to life in the White House. Ironically, it was Tut who had indirectly helped Hoover win the presidential nomination of the Republican party.
Although Hoover was in reality a warm, good-hearted individual, on the surface he often gave the impression of being an emotionless, machinelike politician, interested only in statistics, reports and fact-finding surveys. That cold public image almost lost Hoover his party's nomination.
One day a Hoover campaign worker ran across a photograph of the politician and his loyal shepherd. The informal pose showed a smiling Herbert Hoover affectionately holding King Tut by the forepaws. Immediately, the shrewd party official had thousands of copies of the photo printed. The snapshot, which was published in newspapers and magazines all across the country and blown up into life-size campaign posters, became a valuable tool in the drive to soften and humanize Herbert Hoover's public image. Autographed copies of the photo were mailed out to thousands of political admirers.
Once Herbert and Lou Henry Hoover had settled into the White House, King Tut appointed himself official presidential protector. Although the president's faithful pet had never been trained as an attack dog, he seemed quite confident that he could do a much better job guarding the first family than any of the dozens of Secret Service agents who swarmed over his master's new home. In good weather or bad, Tut could be seen patrolling the tall iron fences and repeatedly checking and rechecking each and every White House gate and door.
At first, the White House staff considered Tut's zealous behavior rather amusing, even admirable. But gradually it became all too clear that the situation was serious. King Tut appeared nervous and overwrought. He rarely ate or slept, and had begun terrorizing White House visitors and workers. It wasn't funny anymore. The president's obsessive protector was dangerous.
For a brief time King Tut was muzzled, but that seemed only to aggravate the situation. Finally, because there was no longer any way to control the dog, he was sent back to the Hoovers' former residence on S Street. Without his beloved master and mistress to protect, poor Tut pined away and soon was dead.
Several other canines - some with enviable pedigrees and long lists of dog show awards - were also in residence at the White House during the Hoover administration. There was Patrick, a huge Wolfhound; Big Ben and Sonny, friendly Fox Terriers; and a handsome Collie named Glen. Their canine assortment also included Eaglehurst Gilette, a stunning setter, and Lou Henry Hoover's two special favorites, Pat, an easygoing German Shepherd, and Weegie, a playful Elkhound from the Hemson Kennels of Ski, Norway.
In March 1990, Mildred Hall Campbell, who was Lou Henry Hoover's personal secretary more than 60 years ago, sent me a photocopy of the Hoovers' official 1932 White House Christmas card. On the left leaf of that card was a picture of a smiling President Hoover on horseback. On the right was a lovely photograph of the first lady and her favorite dogs. The handwritten greeting read, "A Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year from Herbert Hoover and from Lou Henry Hoover and Weegie and Pat."
When Franklin Delano Roosevelt was inaugurated for the first time in 1933, his favorite dog was a black-and-tan German Shepherd named Major. The presidential pet, who had been trained as a police dog, had one particularly disconcerting habit that terrified White House guests and tried the president's patience. The dog would walk up to a visitor, take the startled person's wrist firmly between his jaws and study his face carefully. Not until he had determined the person was a friend (often as much as half a minute later) would Major finally release his so-called fake bite and allow the frightened guest to enter.
Unfortunately, the bites Major took out of Sen. Hattie Caraway's leg and the trousers of British Prime Minister Ramsay MacDonald were not fake. When the irritable dog eventually sank his teeth into the hand of a passing citizen, who had reached through the fence to pat him on the head, that was it. Another presidential police dog was banished from the White House.
The Roosevelts had other difficult dogs. For some unknown reason Meggie, Eleanor Roosevelt's Scottish Terrier, liked to sleep in ash-filled fire-places. She did not, however, appreciate the necessary baths that followed. Like Major, Meggie was a habitual biter. When the first lady's belligerent little Scottie bit the nose of The New York Times' Washington reporter Bess Furnam, and soon afterward bit both Sistie and Buzzie Dall, the Roosevelts' grandchildren, the dog was given to Dr. David E. Buckingham, the White House veterinarian.
<#FROWN:E06\>
RACING TACTICS
Strategies for handicap racing
John Yeigh suggests some moves that will help keep you at the top of the fleet
Although handicap racing is a far-from-perfect format, it is popular - and fun. It's not the same as one-design racing, but you can use the differences between these formats to improve your position in your fleet.
First, you should honestly assess your boat's potential relative to other boats. Although most handicaps are generally correct, your 'Cruiser 35' will probably never beat the 'Slowtub 65' on a heavy-air reach, and it won't take a 'Rocket 27' in light-air round-the-buoys-racing. Each boat performs differently in different conditions, and in some types of weather your boat may perform better relative to other boats than it does in others. Even the multiple ratings of the International Measurement System (IMS) can't entirely compensate for all the differences in boats.
Second, my observation is that the fastest rated boats in a class split do tend to win unless the rating band is very narrow - less than 30 seconds per mile between the top and the bottom. I have observed Performance Handicap Racing Fleet (PHRF) and IMS boats finishing in the front of the pack (first to third) when they are rated fastest in a class split. These same boats typically finish farther back (fourth to sixth) when they are not the fastest rated in another class split. If your boat is rated among the slowest in your class, you might consider making a rating adjustment, such as reducing sail area or shortening the spinnacker pole, to move down to the top of the next class.
Unfortunately, handicaps do not account for either the benefits of sailing in clear air or the adverse effects of sailing in a dying wind. A fast boat can break away after the start, while slower boats have to sail in bad air. To have any chance, slower boats must always sail in clear air, and the time separation between boats can increase significantly if the wind drops.
When you are racing, keep in mind that the separation between corrected-time finishes is typically a minute or more. Don't be tempted to risk a 30- to 60-second setback for the potential gain of just a few seconds.
Also understand that boat speed alone doesn't win races, although it can keep you in the top one-third. Properly dealing with wind shifts and current is usually what wins races. Most sailing areas do have favored ways to go, so you should spend more time understanding what those features are and perhaps less time working on small improvements in boat speed.
Similarly, crew maneuvers never win a race, but they can lose one. Good execution is much more important than speed. For example, a crew that takes two additional boatlengths to set the spinnacker loses only about 2 seconds. A fouled spinnacker set loses far more time.
Starting
When you are starting a race, conventional dinghy tactics say you should determine the favored end of the line and start there. However, I believe a good keelboat start for handicap racing is in the middle of the line, clear of other boats, moving at full speed, and sailing in clear air. With a long or a heavily favored line, you should position yourself toward the favored side of the middle. Even if one end of the line is favored by 4 boat-lengths, if you stay in the middle you will be behind the leading boat at the weather end by only 8 seconds or so if you are sailing at 5 knots (see table), but you still will be ahead of most other boats.
Beating
After the start you have only 4 reasons to tack: (1) You are sailing in bad air; (2) you have good reason to believe the other tack is favored; (3) you need to cover; or (4) you are near the layline. Unlike a dinghy, a keel-boat loses a lot of time tacking, at least 8 seconds even with a perfect tack. A tack is also an opportunity to lose time with a poor sheet release or override. Here are some of the worst reasons to tack: "The crew has been inactive," "Maybe we'll do better on the other tack," and my favorite, "I don't know, but what do you say we tack?"
Be very cautious about tacking on a header if you are sailing in an oscillating wind. For a keelboat, a wind shift of less than 7 degrees is probably not enough to warrant a tack. The wind often shifts back within 30 to 60 seconds, so much of the shift's benefit is going to be lost during the tack. I have seen boats make 20 tacks to chase lifts, only to fall behind the boats that haven't tacked.
Unless you are going to a larger genoa, try to avoid making headsail changes on an upwind leg. The change loses time, and here again there is the possibility of a foul-up. Because a headsail change is often made to protect sailcloth from increasing wind speeds, you might want to reconsider having new genoas made with superlight cloth. The benefit that is gained in light winds may be offset by the time that is lost making the headsail change.
When you approach a weather mark, undershoot your initial layline-approach tacking angle by 5 to 10 degrees, because you might get a lift (Fig. 1). If you are sailing with higher-rated boats, you may have to abandon this safety margin, sail on to get clear air, and go to windward of the parade of faster boats to the layline. Bigger boats usually can outpoint you, and they have large wind shadows.
On your final tack to the mark, it usually doesn't hurt to overstand by a couple of boat lengths. This costs only 8 seconds at 5 knots, compared with the potential time loss from pinching, shooting up to the mark, tacking twice ('four-putting'), or gybing around in front of the mark and going behind incoming starboard-tackers. This time loss can be significant compared with the same maneuver in a dinghy, where you might not lose any places.
Reaching
On a reach your options are to sail high of the course to the next mark, sail low of the mark, or sail on the rhumb line. If you are in clear air, sailing the rhumb but going high in the lulls and low in the puffs is almost always the best strategy. If you are sailing with boats rated within 20 seconds per mile of yours, you will probably have to sail high enough that they cannot pass and hope you don't have to sail too low later.
If faster boats are close behind you, it usually pays to dive low immediately after the rounding and build up some leeward separation. Let them sail by you clear to windward without a luffing duel. This strategy also works well when you have 4 to 5 boatlengths of separation between boats that are rated evenly. Going low keeps you from sailing too high early and keeps you inside at the reach mark.
Whatever else you do at the leeward mark, never get caught on the outside of another boat going around the mark. This guarantees you'll have bad air and will have to tack immediately.
If you are outside another boat, give up a few seconds and do an early spinnacker takedown. Then fall in behind the inside boat and make a good rounding, staying wide on the near side and close on the far side. If you do this correctly, you should have relatively clear air upwind (Fig. 2). The only exception to this strategy is if boats are right behind you. Leave some cushion and count on a slow rounding as the front boat turns sharply.
Your strategy for all remaining windward legs should be similar to that on the first windward leg. If you are in the lead pack, cover as many boats as you can. A loose cover is usually best; it ensures against a time-losing tacking duel and helps herd the fleet astern, because those boats tend to follow the leaders. If you are ahead on corrected time but are physically astern of faster-rated boats, cover them by following in clear air.
If you are among the leaders on a downwind leg, again cover loosely by sailing the favored gybe, position yourself between your competitors and the mark, and always keep your air clean. Let all boats rated 20 seconds per mile faster than you go by, and sail as low as your boat's polars allow. Know your boat's downwind gybe angles and never just follow other boats. Their gybe angles could be quite different from yours.
If you are behind on the last down-wind run, consider a gybe away from the fleet. After all, what do you have to lose? The best way to get back into the money is to hit a favored shift.
If you are on the last beat to the finish and you are ahead, always use a loose cover. If you are in the upper middle of the fleet, you might try to pick off a couple more boats. If you are behind, think about taking a flyer out to the layline. Remember, keelboats make up time slowly, and that's the only way you can score a big recovery.
When you are approaching the finish, you should switch to dinghy tactics and closely cover the boats that rate near you. You don't want one of them to get on the inside of a lift on the last shift. As you come up to the line, don't forget to shoot up into the wind to gain a few seconds.
In handicap racing you are racing the clock as well as individual competitors. Don't become obsessed with individual boats when you're out on the course. Keep the clock and these conservative strategies in mind, and you may begin to get consistent finishes near the top of your fleet.
RIGGING
Low-stretch halyards
Chris Kulczycki uncoils the tale on which material to use for your halyards. Who needs that nasty wire?
Strong, low-stretch halyards for mainsails and jibs are important to a boat's performance. A halyard that stretches will allow the sail's luff to scallop or deform, resulting in reduced pointing ability and speed. Until recently, wire halyards were used on most boats because only wire was able to resist stretching adequately. Today, modern low-stretch cordage opens up the option of rope halyards (Photo 1). Whether you are replacing existing halyards or setting up a new boat, it's wise to consider the advantages of various types of wire and rope, and it's important to check and maintain those halyards regularly after they are installed.
Wire halyards
Stainless-steel wire halyards have long been popular because wire has low stretch and is relatively inexpensive. Wire's high strength allows small-diameter halyards to be used, lessening windage on external portions of halyards. But wire can be hard on hands and equipment, and it wears out fairly quickly. The reel-type winches still used on older boats with all-wire halyards occasionally slip or release accidentally - something to consider when going aloft on a halyard. A reel-type winch allows the sail to be raised only by turning the handle, a slow process. For these reasons all-wire halyards are rarely used today.
With the development of practical techniques, it became easier to splice a braided rope tail onto a wire halyard (Fig. 1). Rope tails make wire halyards easier to handle and allow a conventional open winch to be used. With the addition of mechanical stoppers, one winch can be used for several halyards.
The splice joining wire to rope seems to worry many sailors. If properly made, wire-to-rope splices are extremely strong, and though they are more difficult to make than a rope splice, anyone with a bit of patience can make one.
Normally, 7*19 steel wire (made of seven strands of 19 wires each) is used for halyards.
<#FROWN:E07\>
Tips'n tales from the cab
A mainline engineer's experience filling in on a branch line
BY VERNON HART
BRANCHLINE railroading seems like an ideal theme for a layout with unique character. An imaginary cab ride down a little streak of rust may provide some insights into what I mean. Let's begin with some background information.
FILLING IN FOR THE 'OLD MAN'
The scene is backwoods south Missouri in the early 1970s. The 'Old Man,' as the regular engineer is known, is on vacation. As the youngest promoted engineer on the division, I'm assigned to fill the vacancy and work his job with the regular crew. (Seniority means everything on the railroad and any undesirable outlying jobs are always foisted upon those with the least seniority.) At the time, I had four or five years of 'mainline' experience, but not nearly enough to feel comfortable reporting for work with the old man's legendary crew.
Arriving at Willow Springs, the little town that served as the home terminal for the branch line, I began to investigate this 'legend' for myself. In the cold gray light of dawn, I walked toward the old side-door caboose near the station. This ancient 'woody' was the private domain of the 'Ranger', an old conductor notorious for his low opinion of enginemen like me!
Looking in the open side door, I was amazed by what I saw. An ornate antique barber's chair was mounted in front of the door! A polished brass spittoon sat nearby, while spotless cooking utensils lined the shelves near the old wood stove. A stainless-steel lavatory sink completed the 'kitchen' corner, and an oversize sofa occupied most of the other wall!
Judging from the refinements, I suspect the caboose was officially 'lost,' with all records of it gone in a fire years ago. No wonder I had never seen the old woody turn up for servicing in Springfield!
WORKING THE 'TURN'
On Sundays, the Frisco ran an extra job called the 'Turn' to clear the Springfield yard of cars destined for various on-line industries as well as cars for the branch line. Sunday was the layover day for our locals, so the Turn usually set out around 20 cars at Mountain Grove and 30 or so at Willow Springs, and delivered an engine and caboose for the branch.
It usually continued on to West Plains with the remaining 20 cars. After 'peddling' all the 'shorts,' or local cars, the Turn returned to Springfield, picking up cars that had been set out the day before by assorted trains with tonnage problems (insufficient power to pull the hills).
My thoughts returned to the job at hand, and I eased away from the caboose unnoticed and headed for the tie-up track to inspect my locomotive. The old Geep looked okay with good oil and water levels ... the governor oil was sufficient, however a can of Havoline nearby told me that it probably leaked. The engine's brake rigging seemed okay ... shoes thin ... sandboxes full ... ice needed for the cooler, along with drinking water.
Climbing down, I headed for the depot to fetch supplies. The station agent greeted me and nodded toward the crap game going on a few feet away.
"This here is Joe Bob and Lou," he announced. He nodded toward an adjoining room, "The Ranger is in there."
The agent continued, "Can't get no time on the main 'til they run two north. Gotta switch the shorts in Two and Three West before we can switch the town, or make up yer train. Boogers covered up the north end last night, when 234 had to reduce tonnage here. Then a pup conductor set out Marvin's junk on the south end this morning."
Marvin was the roadmaster responsible for track maintenance in the area. He had a habit of storing his assorted tool cars, tie flats, ballast cars, air dumps, and machines at Willow Springs instead of in town. Even so, any knowledgeable conductor would not have blocked our revenue cars when he set his stuff out in the small yard.
MEETING THE RANGER
Obviously, the agent was preparing me for a long day. I walked into the next room to meet the Ranger. To my surprise, he had no black cape and his fangs appeared normal. The Ranger was a husky man of about 60. Time was being kind to him, as his graying hair complemented his tanned, healthy appearance.
"Glad to meet you, Mr. Hart. We've heard good things about you."
Like so many things in life, this dreaded confrontation had been totally disarming. The railroad 'grapevine' was, and still is, incredible. If you were judged a good engineer early on, the reputation would stick unless you really fouled up. The same held true if your first impressions were negative. You were branded 'bad' for life.
A harsh crucible? Yes. However, full-size railroading is a dangerous profession. Railroaders all know that the best way to stay alive is to be careful and determine, by any possible means, the degree of trust that can be placed in a co-worker. The less-than-fair rumor mill is heavily used for this purpose.
The Ranger continued, "We have time on the controlled siding. Joe Bob will line ya outa the stub, 'n I'll have Lou hand ya up supplies when ya come by the depot. We ken pull the empties outa the mill 'n be ready to set 'em up as quick as we get time on the main."
I knew exactly what he had in mind. The Ranger's crew members were all ranchers on the side, so they made sure the feed mills got priority service. They would dig the feed cars out of the shorts, along with any cars that belonged in our train, and spot them at the mill.
Once the mill was taken care of, the Ranger made the decisions regarding which cars would go in our train. Since the branchline job seldom had enough power to get all the tonnage over the hills, he chose the most needed cars and we built our train accordingly, finishing things off with his personal caboose.
Once we were under way, the main-line locals were stuck with switching the rest of the yard, delivering cars around town, and sorting out the road-master's equipment.
Next month, I'll pick up the story with a trip up the branch to show you what rural railroading is really like.
COMPUTERS in MODEL RAILROADING
CONDUCTED BY BOB FINK; P.E.
THE RESPONSE to our introduction to Computer-Aided Drafting (CAD) tools has prompted me to dig deeper and extend the coverage this time. Also, Don Mitchell will share his pick of the 2-D CAD packages.
THE LAYOUT DESIGN CYCLE
You might call this column CAD re-visited. Back in September we talked about CAD and some of its model rail-road applications. Since then, a number of readers have responded, telling me about their systems and the best choice of software for their needs. I spent some time last winter analyzing CAD packages in the practical range for layout design.
I studied the phases involved in the layout design sequence. Figure 1 shows what everyone goes through if they intend to build a believable model rail-road. With this in mind I looked at various commercial programs offering the best value for each phase of the design sequence, and here's what I found.
GETTING STARTED
The first and probably most difficult phase of layout design for most folks seems to be putting workable ideas on paper. Whether you're setting out to model a section of a real railroad or to free-lance a realistic track plan, that first phase can be frustrating. If there were only a way to quickly condense the important elements of, say, a real freight yard, sketch it, and test it for practical operation, you'd be on your way. Surprisingly there is!
Design Your Own Railroad is produced and marketed by Abracadata, some of whose earlier 'Just for Fun' offerings have been reviewed here. The depth of useful features in this new one is astounding. The IBM version I worked with is extremely well written. See fig.2.<O_>figure<O/>
Learning time, the biggest drawback to most high-end stuff, is minimal with Design Your Own Railroad. In an evening you'll find yourself connecting scale track elements and testing car and train placement. I found that I could quickly set up a yard lead arrangement, add scale turnouts that actually throw, populate the tracks with cars of the length I use, and switch them with a locomotive. Potential operational or space problems will show up before terminals and sidings have been added to the overall scheme.
The program goes well beyond a practical layout design aid and lets you fill in room constraints or sketch in scenery and structure arrangements.
The pull-down menus, ease of movement in the drawing, and component editing allow you to turn out many workable ideas in a lot less time. There's even a menu to develop way-bills and shipments with a revenue accounting system to play out the financial end of railroad operations.
FROM CONCEPTS TO DESIGN
Getting all the working areas (yards, service facilities, sidings, etc.) to fit as realistically as possible in a limited space is the next hurdle in designing an operating layout, and should start long before the sawdust flies. Most of us building layouts let this phase just 'happen.' You can luck out sometimes, but here again your computer can keep you out of trouble.
The key to a workable track plan for realistic operation is that the trains move reliably from place to place. With portions of the layout constructed at different elevations, we have some of the same grade problems as the prototype. Vertical separations and the grades connecting elements of the track plan are extremely important yet often difficult to visualize.
A program that lets you see vertical separations and grades is CadRail. The newest version, 3.0, should be out by the time you read this.
To a layout designer CadRail's most important features are establishing distances along the track (stationing) and automatic elevation calculations for grades. The new version provides a profile view to help you 'see' how vertical separations are taking shape.
In CadRail I found all the features of track placement needed to complete my design. The manual is well written, and the program is easy to learn. The Grid and Snap features are especially useful in track layout. A library of HO scale yard ladders, curves, and sample layouts is another asset.
CadRail is a practical layout design program that keeps getting better as more and more railroaders use it and offer their feedback.
PUTTING IT ALL TOGETHER
There's always going to be a final phase of seeing the completed scale plan set in its surroundings. A lot of us shirk on this one too and let the trackwork determine where the bench-work should go.
With a full-featured drafting program you're able to draw benchwork on one layer, overlay track on another, and lock in your overall room constraints on a third. Finding a moderately priced program that will do this is possible. Most of the track plans Don Mitchell designed for MODEL RAILROADER and his Kalmbach book, Walkaround Model Railroad Track Plans, were done with a CAD program called EasyCAD 2. Be sure to check out Don's review in the sidebar for details.<O_>sidebar<O/>
AND THE WINNER IS ...
I haven't tried to stack one program against another here. These are the best three for the money that I've seen so far, and they match up just right to layout design objectives. Of course, you don't need all three. It depends on where you're starting and how deeply you want to become involved. I'd like to hear your findings on this useful application of computers in model railroading.
Trains ... ... of thought
Commentary by Tony Koester
GOT A LETTER the other day from a fellow who asked about an article on the HO scale Allegheny Midland's Wheeling Division.
<#FROWN:E08\>
THE 10 FASTEST 'STREET' CARS IN AMERICA
By Joe Pettitt
Yikes! We had a lot of motors up against the rev limiter in hot rod land while looking for the 10 'fastest' street cars in America. (Yeah, we know drag cars are properly referred to as quickest, but 'the fastest street cars' sounded better.) It seems everybody we talked to had the baddest, the most brutal street car ever conceived by a rodder. And, of course, we heard rumors and tales that a friend of a friend had the quickest car in the world, but he only raced for money and didn't want anyone to know how fast it really is. So it goes.
Hey, maybe those rumors are true, but we're not interested in ghost stories, we're interested in the fastest street cars in America. And as far as we can tell, we have 10 of the baddest street cars that ever prowled the pavement on either side of Woodward Avenue or the prime meridian for that matter.
These cars are bad-to-the-bone, low 9-second and high 8-second street-style cars. As long as these cars can cruise on the street without overheating or draining the battery, have lights and turn signals, and some semblance of an interior, they qualify as street cars in this loose sense of the term. That puts this group of cars on the ragged edge of being called a street car and the owners/drivers on the ragged edge of sanity with a loose grip on reality. These cars are pure adrenaline, fun, and the essence of hot rodding.
You may notice that most of the cars in this section are big-block Camaros. We didn't plan it that way, it's just that Camaros are relatively lightweight cars in which a big-inch motor fits nicely. And you simply can't beat the combination of big inches and low weight for a fast street car. In addition, we didn't run across any Mopars and only found a few Fords. We know you elephant motor heads and shotgun rodders are out there, but you're just too well hidden. So if you have a faster Ford or a meaner Mopar, come out of the closet and let us know, pronto.
One more thing: There are only winners in this group. All of the cars here are exceptionally quick, but they have not competed on the same track, on the same day, under the same conditions, so any performance comparisons would be pure speculation. However, this may change in September, because we will decide by means of a competition which is the fastest street car in America. Until then, here are the 10 fastest street cars that we know of.
ROD SABOURY, '57 Corvette, 8.62/156 MPH
As of this June, this is the quickest time Rod Saboury has posted with his 2500-pound '57 Vette on a set of Goodyear slicks. And he did it through the mufflers with a single four-barrel carburetor without nitrous! And don't be fooled, he does cruise this bad boy on the street. In fact, he drives it to the track, swaps tires, and runs - now that is bad!
The combination that hurls this 'Vette to such performance-heights is 532 inches of a Garrett Racing Engine-prepared, cast-iron Bow-Tie block with a Competition Cams .730-inch lift roller cam that is topped with Brodix aluminum heads and a Dart intake. A Barry Grant 1150-cfm Dominator mixes the fuel before a Jesel belt drive distributor and MSD-7AL team up to thelight the fire. Saboury says the Moroso dry-sump system is worth 15 horse-power, and the Turbo Start 16-volt battery makes a hotter spark for a noticeable performance gain. A custom set of 2 1/4-inch headers route into 4-inch inlet/outlet Flowmaster mufflers. The engine is backed by an ATI full-competition Powerglide with a 5500-rpm stall converter and 4.56 gears in a Mark Williams Pro Stock-style Ford 9-inch rearend. Saboury tunes the hook with a Koni coil-over double-adjustable-shocked four-link rear suspension and a Lamb strut front suspension.
DANNY SCOTT, '68 CAMARO, 8.61/158 MPH
Danny Scott's Camaro has to be the most beautiful of these bad boy machines. This impeccably prepared Camaro is all steel and has a full interior with functional side widowswindows and all the glass is just that - glass. No Plexiglas for Mr. Scott.
Here's the combination: a 540ci Sam Gianino-massaged Bow-Tie block stuffed with Venolia pistons and Childs&Albert rods on an offset ground crank capped with Gianino-tweaked Chevy C-port aluminum heads. A Crane Solid Roller cam (.780-inch lift) calls the tune to the Danny Scott-modified Holley 1150 carb on a Team G manifold, and 3-step headers (2 1/4-, 2 3/8-, 2 1/2-inch diameter) dump into modified Flowmaster mufflers. (The mufflers only lose Scott a few tenths!) To develop the levels of torque needed to rocket 3300 pounds of Camaro into the mid-8s, Danny relies on a CompuCar 'Blaster' 600hp nitrous system. The engine is backed by a four-speed Lenco transmission that puts the spin on a 4.88-geared Dana with Mark Williams 44-spline axles and spool. Scott fabricated the ladder bar suspension himself to the obvious satisfaction of the Goodyear slicks.
KEN ANDERSON, '78 MALIBU, 8.81/155 MPH
Ken Anderson's brutal machine turned its best time so far on 30x18-15 M&H street tires with a 3.70 gear in the Ford 9-inch rearend. Anderson and his dad are thinking of steppin' up to a 4.11 gear and the new 33x18-15 M&H tires. The change in the combo looks quicker on paper, and we'll let you know if it works out.
Meanwhile, Anderson's Malibu weighs in at 3050 pounds fueled without the driver and is powered by a 588ci, tall-deck Bow-Tie block with Brodix heads, a Dart manifold, and a Barry Grant-modified 1050 Holley Dominator carb. The fuel system is a combination of a CNC pump and regulators which feed both the carburetor and the Top Gun two-nozzle port-injection nitrous system. The engine is exhausted through a custom set of 2 3/8-inch headers through cavernous 4-inch in/out Flowmaster mufflers. The engine is backed by a Carl Rossler-built, ATI 5000-rpm stall-converted Powerglide. The rear suspension is a four-link system that hooks hard as indicated by its sub 9-second e.t.'s.
SCOTT SHAFIROFF, '67 'VETTE, 8.62/160 MPH
Scott Shafiroff is known for building awesome Pro Mod mountain motors. Shafiroff's reputation, combined with the German owner's desire to have the fastest street car in Germany, resulted in a Shafiroff Racing (516/293-2220) extravaganza. It seems there is a lively cruise scene in Germany, considering there are no speed limits on some sections of the autobahn. We don't have to spell it out for you, do we? Even though it will be exported to Germany, the 'Vette was built in America so it qualifies for this section.
Not only did Shafiroff build the engine, but he managed the construction of the entire car. It has a full interior, roll-up windows, a dash, a radio, a stock X-frame, and all the comforts of home. Out front is a 10:1, 604ci aluminum Donovan big-block stuffed with Total Seal rings, steel rods, a Shafiroff-spec'd street roller cam, and topped with Dart Big Chief heads. He also race-prepped the cast-aluminium intake and topped it off with a pair of tweaked Dominator carbs. Healthy doses of NOS-regulated and Shafiroff-tuned nitrous increase the naturally aspirated 930 hp to an astounding 1280 hp! Backing the engine is an FB Transmission-built TH400. The force from the engine is managed by a four-link coil-over suspension and 4.56 gear rearend.
Shafiroff says the most difficult part of this exercise is making the engine streetable. This engine idles at 750 rpm and is designed to perform under the varying conditions of a street driver. According to Shafiroff, building a race engine is easy by comparison.
MAX CARTER, '66 NOVA, 8.454/157 MPH
Max Carter presently appears to be the man to beat on the street car scene. He made some changes and has run a 5.24/133 mph 1/8-mile e.t. which, in theory, is in the low eights. Though some say his 2900-pound (fueled with driver) '66 Nova isn't a street car, Carter believes otherwise, and he's willing to meet you at the burger stand and go for a cruise to prove it. It has all the accessories of a street car, and it isn't a 2200-pound round-tube-chassis car. The most serious chassis work consists of extended mild-steel square tubing up to the front clip. Plus he runs a basic ladder bar rear suspension with separate spring and shock mounts instead of the trick coil-over shock system you see on sophisticated Pro Street machines cruising the fairgrounds.
Carter's Nova does it with torque: 557 inches of Crane roller-cammed Bow-Tie block capped by aluminum Bow-Tie heads with a Sonny Leonard-modified Holley Pro Dominator intake, twin Barry Grant 1150 carburetors, and custom headers which make up the basic combination for a killer nitrous engine. Carter has recently changed to a Compucar two-stage nitrous system. He leaves the fogger system on and then hits the 430hp-rated spray bar when the nose begins to settle. The Strange axles and spool in the 4.88-geared 12-bolt rearend deliver the torque to the 32x14.5-15 Goodyear slicks.
JOE YATOOMA/KURT URBAN, '69 CAMARO, 8.85/157 MPH
When Kurt Urban isn't busy running his Mr. Muffler shop in Detroit, Michigan, he's working on Joe Yatooma's Camaro. It's basically a hobby which, with a little help from the Ramchargers speed shop and a new coat of paint from Jeff Hall at Bloomfield Collision, is funded by Yatooma and Urban's pocketbooks. The same goes for most of the racers in this story.
And like the rest, they have built a max-boogie street car. The basic combination goes like this: a Bow-Tie block, BRC crank, Carillo rods, and Venolia pistons. This combo produces 13:1 compression mixed in with a Crane roller cam and D-port Chevy aluminum heads. Then fuel is added through a single Dominator carb atop a 'Bird man'-massaged Dart intake, and the exhaust passes through 2 1/4-inch Hooker headers and 5-inch in/out Flowmaster mufflers. Then they rearranged the components of an NOS Fogger system to a direct port design. The power is pumped through a Coan TH400 and 10-inch 4500-rpm stall converter, and it runs to a 4.56 rear gear and 32x14-15 Goodyear slicks. Now put it on a race track, point it, and pull the trigger.
HONORABLE MENTION
DON WALSH/D&D PERFORMANCE, '90 MUSTANG GT, 9.48/142 MPH
Don Walsh's Mustang is quicker than a 306ci small-block has a right to run! The block is an M-6010-A4 SVO block with a machined M-6301-B4 SVO crankshaft, Bill Miller aluminum rods, and JE pistons. The heads are SVO M-6049-C3 Yates-type aluminum goodies that were ported but not welded at Roush Racing. A Crane mechanical roller signals the SVO M-9424-B303 single-plane intake and Holley 830-cfm carb. Prototype SVO M9430-Y302 headers by Watson Engineering exhaust the gases that are fired by an SVO M-12199-C301 wiring harness with an M-12390-C bronze gear distributor and an M-12199C301 module, M-12029-A302 coil, and M12071-A301 harness. A single-stage NOS Cheater nitrous system is used to enhance torque.
A D&D Performance-massaged C6 automatic delivers the torque to a D&D Performance 9-inch rearend with 4.30 gear. The car is suspended by a combination of Global West McCastor kit bushings and rear tubular lower control arms, Koni shocks, Lakewood traction bars, and Watson Engineering subframe connectors. Cragar Drag Stars and Goodyear Front Runners and 26x10-15 M&H Racemasters hook the car into the nines!
RICK DYER, '69 CAMARO, 9.02/153 MPH
If Rick Dyer's Camaro looks similar in execution to Danny Scott's '67 Camaro, there's a reason. These two cars are part of the C.A.R.S. race team. Dyer's Camaro is essentially the same combination as Scott's since Scott built both cars. The only difference that we can discern (aside from year and color) is that Dyer's car weighs a massive 3666 pounds compared to Scott's slightly more sveltsvelte 3300 pounds. Dyer's e.t. is slightly slower than Scott's, primarily, according to Dyer, "because I like to put the wheels in the air. If I kept the wheels lower to the ground, I'd be running in the high eights, too!"
<#FROWN:E09\>
SHOW JUMPING SURE AIN'T WHAT SHE USED TO BE
U.S. show jumping appears to be flourishing economically, but four years of fighting over USET policies has left the participants worried and divided about the future.
John Strassburger
Bill Steinkraus, writing in the 1991 international review book L'Anne Hippique, has developed an apt metaphor to describe the evolution of show jumping. He compares show jumping to the heroine of a romantic novel:
"She is born and brought up in the country, where her early life is dedicated to hunting. While still young, she marries a dashing cavalry officer and passes many happy years with him. Then, suddenly, he is ordered off to war. He barely survives and returns briefly, only to die of his wounds.
"Our heroine tries to return to her old lifestyle but cannot, for she has no funds with which to support it. At this point, some old acquaintances come to her aid, though they are from the world of business and she has always been quite cool to them in the past. Some offer temporary assistance, but others prove staunchly loyal; her life goes on and even prospers.
"Still, she worries, for she knows that her business friends must receive something in return to justify their expenditures. She is given funds to help entertain their guests and clients, but she realizes that an adverse business climate would make such activities very marginal for them. Thus her happiness is tempered by anxiety, and this is where she stands today."
Steinkraus' metaphor is even more poignant for the United States than for the rest of the world.
Eight years ago the U.S. show jumping team was on top of the world. At the 1984 Olympics in Los Angeles, Joe Fargis, Conrad Homfeld, Leslie Burr and Melanie Smith did something no U.S. team ever had before -they won.
That golden moment was the apex of a tremendous skein of victories -eight wins at the FEI Volvo World Cup final in nine years and the gold medal at the 1986 World Championships with an almost completely different team.
These victories were the legacy of Bertalan de Nemethy, who from 1955 to 1980 coached the U.S. Equestrian Team and produced many of our finest horsemen and horses -Bill Steinkraus, Frank Chapot, George Morris, Kathy Kusner, Fargis, Homfeld, Smith, Robert Ridland, Michael Matz and Bernie Traurig, as well as Snowbound, San Lucas, Untouchable, Nautical, Sloopy, Ksar d'Esprit, Sandsablaze and Southside.
De Nemethy, now retired in Florida, was the most influential person in the shift from the military era to the current major civilian industry. De Nemethy was recruited to fill in the void created when the U.S. Army disbanded its cavalry and its cavalry schools following World War II.
"We got a very precious foundation from Bert," said Steinkraus. "Bert had, in effect, a mini-cavalry school."
For over 25 years de Nemethy personally selected riders and horses and brought them first to Tryon, N.C., and then Gladstone, N.J., for months or years of training. He planned their careers and took them for seasoning to shows in the United States and Europe. With their fluid and classical style, his riders quickly earned worldwide respect and have passed on their horsemanship to countless students, many of whom have also become trainers. His proteges have become course designers and administrators in both the USET and American Horse Shows Association.
De Nemethy's teams competed in 144 Nations Cups, winning 71. They also took part in seven Olympic Games, winning the team silver in 1960 and '72. Steinkraus became the first U.S. rider to win the individual gold in 1968. Four years later Neal Shapiro earned the individual bronze.
But since 1987, success has come far less frequently. The 1988 Olympic team claimed the silver with a determined second round and Greg Best and Gem Twist claimed the individual silver. But two years later nearly the same team could only finish a lackluster fourth in the World Championships.
U.S. riders haven't won the World Cup Final since Katharine Burdsall on The Natural in 1987. The only top placings since then have been third through seventh at Tampa in 1989. In 1990 and '91 no one made the top six.
Even worse, the team went 22 months without a Nations Cup victory -from Washington (D.C.) on Nov. 1, 1989, to Lanaken (Belgium) on Sept. 22, 1991. In between, there were such embarassing moments as finishing last at Spruce Meadows (Canada) in 1990 and '91.
Certainly the challenges to the selection procedure by Peter Leone before the 1988 Olympics and Debbie Dolan before the 1990 World Championships distracted the team's efforts in those years by pitting riders against each other.
Leone's grievance, filed with the U.S. Olympic Committee and turned down by an arbitrator, was a legal right granted to him under the Amateur Sports Act of 1978. And he wasn't the only athlete to file a grievance that year. Event rider Kerry Millikin lost her grievance a month earlier. Athletes from many other sports filed similar grievances, ensuring a legal pre-Olympics.
But Dolan bypassed the USOC grievance procedure and sued the USET, president Finn Caspersen, Steinkraus, and the individual members of the Selection Committee after she was named to the team and then removed because the Executive Committee felt there had been a conflict of interest in the decision. She even attempted to get an injunction to prevent the team from competing. The case was dismissed by one judge last February but is currently under appeal.
Responds Dolan, "I keep hearing that we're not doing well because of me. We're not doing well because we all have to try harder," she said. "To blame all our problems on one thing is a real cop-out. Just like our economy, it runs in cycles."
Nevertheless, Frank Chapot, one of show jumping's most forceful individuals, has been seriously affected by the deterioration of the system that nurtured him and that he promoted. As a veteran of six Olympics and chef d'equipe for the last three, Chapot has been the driving spirit behind U.S. show jumping for more than three decades. Although he was previously outspoken and sometimes even contentious, Chapot declined to be interviewed because of the lawsuits.
"I feel badly because I think our biggest asset has been Frank Chapot as our coach," said rider Chris Kappler. "He has always been absolutely 100 percent on our side, backing us always, even when things went wrong. I think he's lost his spirit with all this controversy, and there's no one better for the job."
The Root of All Evil
Today's show jumping game is far different from 20 or even 10 years ago. The reason is money -prize money now totaling over $3.8 million annually, major corporate sponsorship of events and individuals, and wealthy riders and owners who frequently spend six figures (sometimes even seven figures) to buy the best horses and then expect to make international teams because of it.
But the United States doesn't operate in a vacuum. European show jumping has just as much money. Corporate sponsors like Optiebeurs and Herderson put up hundreds of thousands of dollars to support teams of several riders, and auto manufacturers like Volvo and Mercedes sponsor events and give away cars to the winner.
Although show jumping's prize money doesn't yet approach golf or tennis, it's more than enough to induce Americans and Europeans to fly their horses around the world in pursuit of big paydays.
Not surprisingly, the riders almost universally embrace prize money. "In the positive way there is more participation. It's more interesting to the sponsors and owners and riders. There's more of a reward monetarily," said Joe Fargis.
Still, "I think when money was less involved 20 years ago it was probably more pure." he mused. "Now the sport has become a big business, and when things become big business, they change."
"I think itsit helps the sport," said David Raposa. "It's so expensive to show, and if an owner has invested a lot of money in a horse, he'd like to see some return. It's made the sport more appealing to owners."
"It's fabulous. I just wish more of it would come to the West Coast," said Susie Hutchinson.
They all point out that although income is high, expenses are even higher. In addition to entry and stabling fees, the cost of keeping horses is higher on the road.
"Prize money is still way behind the cost of buying and maintaining grand prix horses, and there hasn't been enough increase in prize money," said Bernie Traurig, expressing the complaint of most West Coast riders.
Traurig has a valid point. From 1987 to 1991, total grand prix purses have risen from $2,755,000 to $3,805,000, a 38.1 percent jump. The number of events has increased from 87 to 100, and the average purse per event has risen from $31,666 to $38,050, a 20.1 percent increase.
In that same period, though, the American Grandprix Association, the sport's most demanding, lucrative, and best marketed league, has remained nearly static. Total prize money peaked at $1,535,000 in 1988, and its average prize money per event was the same in 1991 as in 1989. In 1990 a record 16 events offered prize money of $50,000 or more; in 1991 that fell to 14. Only one of those events was in Arizona in 1991; none were in California.
The increase in total prize money has been fueled mostly by the independent events, plus the development in 1991 of the National Grand Prix League.
Since 1987, the AGA's share of total U.S. prize money has dropped steadily from 49.7 percent to 38.8 percent. Still, its year-end standings and championships remain the most sought-after titles.
The increasing diversity of prizes has forced riders to become better managers. Today they have to carefully plan their horses' schedules, putting them in events they can win just like race horse trainers.
Twenty-five years ago, the first big show of the year was at Devon (Pa.) and shows would lead more or less sequentially up to the fall indoor shows. Or you could go to Europe. Now the Florida, California and Arizona circuits start in January and the last major show is Toronto in mid-November.
"That's what puts the pressure on -the shows are all year long," said Melanie Smith-Taylor, now retired from show jumping and raising horses in Germantown, Tenn.
"The responsibility lies on the shoulders of the rider/trainer. It depends on your priorities -do you want to go to the Olympics or win the horse of the year? They really have to manage their horses or have someone help them, that's the key now," she continued.
"Your goals determine the strategy," said Hutchison. "If the horse is an investment, if the owners want to sell for a profit within a period of time, you need to give the horse exposure. If your goal is the Olympics, you manage toward that goal differently."
Even with good management, the never-ending circuit means riders spend less time training their top horses and developing their young horses. It's hard to keep a consistent training program when you're constantly cruising down the highway to a new show.
In a 1987 interview, Bert de Nemethy stated emphatically that riders weren't doing their homework and that it would catch up with them. "Many riders are far from the level they should be. They are doing nothing else but competing and jumping. They need training, they need ironing out, and they have to be criticized. Flat work is not being done," he said.
Steinkraus agrees. "You can look at horses today with outstanding careers who have a lot of holes in them, and many riders never finish their technical foundations," he said.
Why Doesn't The Team Win More?
U.S. show jumping does have many strengths. About a dozen knowledgeable and innovative course designers create challenges equal to or better than any in the world. The United States has at least a dozen of the world's most experienced and proficient riders, and at least half a dozen horses as good as any in the world (with the possible exception of Milton and Big Ben).
<#FROWN:E10\>
The Mercury Makes ELK Move
IF YOU'RE A SKIER, PRAY FOR SNOW. BUT IF YOU'RE AFTER WAPITI, MAKE YOUR REQUEST FOR COLD.
BY SAM CURTIS
ELK HUNTING SEASON ALONG THE Continental Divide is a time of changes. Opening day may arrive as balmy as a summer breeze, and as you walk draws and ridges looking for fresh elk sign, you may find songbirds still not hinting of heading south.
But the season evolves, and one day you awake to a hard wind that blows all the way to dusk. Snow starts to fall during the night and continues throughout the next day, and somewhere in the condensed darkness of the following night the stars snap on and cold settles in like stones.
Stepping into a day on which the temperature has tumbled to the basement fine-tunes my elk hunting skills faster than anything else I know. Three of the five elk I've shot over the last five years were taken when the temperature was in the teens or below. I'd go so far as to say that I got those elk because of the cold.
Elk do things when the temperature drops below 20 degrees that they don't do when it's warmer. Perhaps even more than snow, cold weather prompts elk to move to lower elevations. Frigid temperatures also affect what side of a ridge elk bed down on, what type of cover they seek, and how and when they feed and move.
The hunter who is aware of the influence of cold weather on elk behavior stands a better-than-average chance to finding elk when the temperature drops into the teens or even below zero.
Traditional hunting lore has it that snow is the prime catalyst in getting elk to move from their high summer range down to where they are easier to hunt. Snow certainly has its effects, but research on elk movement indicates that they can easily walk through snow that's 1 1/2 feet deep before the going gets rough, and a big bull may be unhampered by up to 2 or even 3 feet of snow, depending on its consistency.
But let it get cold in the high country and things begin to happen. The open alpine meadows and the sparse timberline forests provide no protection from the effects of radiant cooling at night, and body heat just dissipates out into the clear, unobstructed skies. In these conditions, elk start to head lower in search of thicker forest cover and elevations less exposed to the influence of wind and its additional chilling effects. Even in the absence of snow, severe cold may spur elk onto fall migration routes. Cold and snow provide a double whammy that brings elk into even closer reach.
So, the first real cold snap - when temperatures hit the low teens - is a time to look for elk along traditional migration corridors. Those fall storms that come in for a day or two and are immediately followed by a sudden and deep drop in temperature under clear skies provide ideal elk hunting conditions. but get out there on the migrational travel lanes even if the cold is not preceded by snow.
As the elk descend from the high country in the face of really cold weather, they'll be looking for several things to satisfy their needs. They'll want to find a source of nutritious food to fire their heat-producing body furnaces, since calories equal BTUs as much for elk as they do for humans. And once elk have found a good source of food, they'll want to conserve the body heat it produces by finding a place to hide and bed that will minimize heat loss.
But cold-weather feeding sites and cold-weather bedding sites are not always close together. And since low temperatures prompt elk to feed more in order to stay warm, the animals will be going back and forth between feeding and bedding sites more frequently than usual. This increased movement makes them more visible to hunters.
The best bedding sites under cold-weather conditions are found in conifer forests that have thick canopies. These can usually be found on north slopes, where optimum shade and moisture produce tense timber stands.
In these forests, the umbrella formed by the trees' branches holds in a certain amount of heat, preventing it from radiating quickly into the atmosphere. Clouds can have the same effect, but when it gets really cold the skies are usually very clear.
Setting out on the last day of elk season some years ago, I moved under stars that glittered so sharply I could almost feel their edges. I left behind a house with frozen water pipes and a wife who agreed that they could remain that way, as I had only one more chance to put elk steaks on the table for the winter.
My toes and fingers ached even though I walked quickly up a Forest Service fire break that had been cut through thick timber years before. The break seemed my best bet for covering ground through otherwise tough terrain. As I walked, I peered under the tight cover of fir branches looking for bedded elk.
As I approached the crest of the north slope and the end of the fire break, I slowed my pace to a real still-hunting crawl. At the end of the tunnel the fire break made through the trees, I could see that the sun had just begun to hit the south slope on the opposite side of the ridge. I was standing, letting my eyes readjust to the darkness beneath the trees, when I heard the sound and noticed the legs.
The elk had given a grunt of exertion when it got up from its bed, and suddenly it was standing there like a present.
More than likely, it was the clear, cold skies that gave the bull to me. I later concluded from his tracks that the elk had spent much of the previous frigid day feeding and basking in the sun on the open south slope less than 100 yards from his bed. Then, he'd entered the timber on the fire break and stepped into a dense knot of conifers to stay as warm as possible for the night. I suspect he, too, had seen the morning sun hit the south slope and was getting up to seek its warmth.
Except for the happenstance of my presence, that elk had found an ideal situation, given the cold weather. The thick timber needed for a warm bedding site and the open slopes needed for grass - an elk's favorite food - were very close together at this spot.
In fact, any east-west ridgeline will provide both a north and south aspect whithin very close proximity to one another. These are ideal places to hunt when it is cold. In the face of light hunting pressure, elk feed and sun in the open during the day and head for the relative warmth of thick timber only after the sun goes down. This is just the reverse of what they usually do, and knowing this gives an elk hunter a distinct advantage.
It's sometimes difficult, however, for elk to find a place that offers ideal bedding and feeding conditions as well as light hunting pressure. So, elk need additional bedding and feeding sites.
When cold weather is combined with snow cover, elk will use the insulative qualities of snow to keep themselves warm. It seems ironic, but where snow cover is patchy, remaining, for instance, only in shaded draws or in drifts on windward bits of terrain, elk will actually seek it out for a bedding spot during cold-weather conditions. For this reason, snow pockets are well worth checking, particularly at daybreak.
Deep snow, on the other hand, produces 'tree wells' around the bases of lone, large conifers. Low, hanging branches keep snow from piling up under the tree while snow depths around the periphery may accumulate to the height of the lowest limbs. The 'well' produced beneath the tree offers almost complete protection from wind, and the mass of the tree trunk itself retains enough heat to attract elk in cold weather.
In some areas of the Northern Rockies, elk have actually been observed competing for such prime bedding sites in extremely cold weather. So it's worth scouting for big, live conifers that can produce such tree wells.
As for feeding grounds, elk may want to stay very close to cover when hunting pressure is great. This is when secluded natural openings surrounded by timber become cold-weather gathering points for hungry elk. They can feed on the grasses in such spots but never be more than a few dozen yards from cover.
Where you aren't immediately aware of the lay of the land, a 7.5-minute series topographic map will show you where such natural openings exist. And don't overlook small clearcuts as possible cold-weather feeding grounds.
ON THE OTHER EXTREME, ELK may feed in the wide-open spaces on cold days. During cold snaps, elk may move a mile or more out of the timber onto completely open terrain where the openness itself provides some security. A herd of elk feeding in open country is difficult to sneak up on because your presence can usually be detected by at least one elk, who will then warn the others of dangers. If you find a concentration of elk in the open during the day, it's best to locate where they have been coming out of the timber and wait for them there.
The typical cold-weather elk behavior I've been describing can be curtailed by two accompanying weather conditions that occasionally occur when the temperature drops.
Wind has a real effect on elk when it is cold. They will do almost anything to avoid it, and they'll usually forsake food in favor of finding a calm pocket in the surrounding terrain. Look for these pockets when it's cold and windy, and you'll probably fill your elk tag.
Temperature inversions are less frequent but also worthy of note. Occasionally, weather conditions will force a wedge of warm air up over a wedge of cold air, trapping the cold air close to the ground. The temperature difference between these layers of air can be dramatic, as much as 20 degrees, so this phenomenon really can influence elk whereabouts. Coming down out of the timber toward lower, open feeding grounds, elk may run into the trapped cold air, turn around, and go back uphill where it is warmer.
Perhaps the most important thing to remember about hunting elk in the cold is that elk behaviour at this time consists of a delicate balancing act. Elk have to move and eat to keep warm, on one hand, but they have to stay still to conserve energy on the other. Your awareness of how they perform this balancing act is the key to successful elk hunting in the cold.
HUNTING
Where Others Cannot Go
WHEN THE WHOLE WORLD USES FEET AND WHEELS TO GET WHERE THE DEER ARE, THE WISE MAN PICKS UP A PADDLE.
BY JEROME B. ROBINSON
ALONG THE BANK OF EVERY BROOK, river, lake, and swamp in the wild lands of North America there is a game trail. That should tell you something about where big-game animals are often found. The edges of waterways are natural territorial boundaries as well as common travel routes. In deer country in late autumn these trails are always heavily marked by bucks; trees where bucks have rubbed their antlers and ground scrapes where they have left sign are exceptionally abundant along the edges of waterways.
For many years I have concentrated my deer hunting efforts close to water. Sometimes we travel a long distance by water to reach a remote area; on other trips we use a boat only to get to the other side of a stream or lake in order to get away from roads. Crossing water is the best way I know to get beyond other hunters and find a territory where the deer are moving according to their natural inclinations instead of being pushed around by people.
<#FROWN:E11\>
Spcialits de la Maison
NEW YORK
LORA, ROSA MEXICANO, GIRASOLE
BY ANDY BIRSH
Lora Zarubin looked for about five years for the right place in New York City to open a restaurant. The various store-fronts and other spaces she considered were either too large, too unattractive, in need of too much renovation for her budget, or simply rented for too much money. In the meantime she continued to run her rather bravely named catering firm, Good Food, which provided good food for social gatherings and had a busy sideline in laying on the edibles for leading photographers at their studios.
Even for someone undeterred by putting out a great effort, catering is arduous work, and Ms. Zarubin left the business in 1989, after ten years. While still holding out the dream of a restaurant in Manhattan, she decamped for Paris, where she busied herself designing a friend's apartment and cooking informally. Later she took a trip to India. Soon the pace of events quickened. Through contacts in New York, she learned that Sally and John Darr, the proprietors of La Tulipe in Greenwich Village, sought to retire, and she realized that the opportunity this presented was almost too good to be true.
La Tulipe was started by the Darrs in 1979 after Mrs. Darr's departure from the food department of this magazine and Mr. Darr's departure from school administration. As her own restaurant would later be for Ms. Zarubin, La Tulipe was a long cherished dream of the Darrs, and it soon became one of the best-loved small places to eat in the city. Set on the ground floor of a restored town house (the Darrs resided above), La Tulipe faced the world from the back of a postage stamp-size garden. The little front room was furnished with a zinc-clad Parisian-style bar, rattan caf chairs, and tables with marble tops. The food served in the more formal dining room beyond was home-style French. Garlicky roasted chicken, snapper steamed in parchment, and tarte Tatin fueled their initial success.
To customers familiar with La Tulipe, LORA, Ms. Zarubin's restaurant (which she owns in partnership with a businessman named Donald Evans), might seem more like a well-tended inheritance than an enterprise started from scratch. The garden and the etched-glass front door are still there from La Tulipe, and so is the bar with its furniture. Ms. Zarubin's alterations have included the installation of the framed,beveled mirrors that line the dining room as well as a change in the color of the walls (from plum to off-white). She is a photograph collector, and the bar now holds a mini-retrospective of the work of William Claxton, whose crisp black-and-white portraits of jazz greats in performance (Billie Holiday, John Coltrane, Sarah Vaughan, Chet Baker, and Ray Charles are among those pictured) not only create an undeniably hip atmosphere but also recall Greenwich Village's proud musical heritage. A colorful counterpoint is provided by a signed print of Annie Leibovitz's famous portrait of Ella Fitzgerald in a tailored red suit. Mr. Claxton and Ms. Leibovitz are members of the chef's very extensive network of friends.
Ms. Zarubin also converted the parlor level above, where the Darrs lived, to a handsome private dining room and an office, but perhaps her most significant addition was made in the kitchen: a state-of-the-art wood-burning grill from California. Although most of her main courses are cooked over the glowing hardwood charcoal, her style is deft and subtle, and she does not serve dish after dish covered in black stripes. Indeed Ms. Zarubin can run a grill as skilfully as many of her French counterparts can handle their saut pans.
The components of her grilled dishes change a bit all the time, but the constants are her sources of fine meats. Her friendship with the author Orville Schell and his ranching partner Bill Niman has enabled her to be the exclusive outlet in New York City for the extraordinary beef raised on their Niman-Schell Ranch north of San Francisco. These steers feed only on un-adulterated grains, and Niman-Schell also supplies Lora with legs of lamb from nearby McCormack Ranch and pork from Wildwood Ranch, which are like-minded in their feed practices. I have found all three meats to be unusually fine-flavored and tender, especially Niman-Schell's aged rib-eye steak, which Ms. Zarubin has lately served with French fried potatoes, glazed turnips, and some lightly dressed water-cress (the chef generally likes some cold greenery on the plate).
For those not inclined toward meats, chances are good that a generously cut fillet of salmon, quite possibly from the Pacific, will arrive at the table perfectly moist and flavorful, accompanied perhaps by basmati rice, salsa verde, and curly chicory salad. This being New York, a chicken-fancying town, Lora has offered a grilled version with mashed potatoes and mixed greens as well as a chicken fricassee with Yukon Gold potatoes and turnips. There are usually a few other non-grilled items, such as changing versions of risotto or pasta, and it is hard to imagine that demand will drop - in season - for her crab cakes served with mesclun and a rmulade blended with roasted yellow bell peppers.
All of these main courses come generously portioned, so it is well that starters at Lora are modest affairs. Parma ham with rosemary oil and grilled bread will not make too great a dent in the appetite, nor will any of an array of salads. The most interesting way to begin is perhaps with an antipasto that includes, among other things, grilled sweet red onions, house-cured black olives, more of the Parma ham, and bruschetta topped with tomato salad. The plate can easily be shared.
Ms. Zarubin stocks wines for the restaurant's cellar herself, and she tastes potential entries with an eye for how well they will complement her cooking. Sumptuous indeed is Peter Michael Chardonnay 'Mon Plaisir' '89 from Sonoma. This sells for $42, but satisfaction is also to be found, for $24, with Olivier Leflaive's white Bourgogne 'Les Stilles' '88. Among reds, the chef favors Domaine Tempier's Bandol 'La Migoua' '87 from the South of France, for $43, but she also expresses a fondness for Saint-Amour Trenel '88, for $22, and hopes some of her customers will venture so far as to try the Sancerre Ros '89 from Ch<*_>a-circ<*/>teau du Maimbray Roblin ($28) with some of her grilled dishes. The wine is made from Pinot Noir and is among the few vins ross thought to improve with some aging.
Along with the grill, Ms. Zarubin purchased a high-quality European ice-cream maker. She tries new flavors often, but I hope that her maple walnut comes back some time; it has to be the last word on that subject. Just as simple and satisfying, in my experience, are vanilla ice cream with chocolate-dipped almonds and a cr<*_>e-grave<*/>me br<*_>u-circ<*/>le with a nip of ginger. Chocolate pav (a 'paving stone') will gratify serious chocolate fans, but the less committed should look elsewhere. The restaurant appends to its dessert list a roster of exceedingly rare dessert wines and digestifs by the glass, such as aged Calvados from L. Dupont, Muscat grappa from Oregon, and cask-aged plantation rum from Martinique. How do all these disparate elements of a meal at Lora manage to fit together? They are all enthusiasms of the chef-owner, and her enthusiasm is infectious.
First courses at Lora range from $7 to $10.50. Main courses are $17 to $26, and desserts are from $5 to $8. Dinner is served nightly, except on Sundays and major holidays, from 6:30 until 11 (with an extension to 11:30 on Fridays and Saturdays). A short fixed-price menu is available at $25 for those who wish to be seated between 6 and 6:30, early enough for an off-Broadway show at 8. New York's foremost jazz club, the Village Vanguard, at 178 Seventh Avenue South, is minutes away by foot, but the music doesn't start there until after 9:30.
ROSA MEXICANO
On the whole, Mexican restaurants in New York City have a rather dubious reputation. Probably because the resident Mexican population of this city is low, there are few customers of Mexican origin demanding fine-quality cooking, and, as a result, the plentiful Tex-Mex joints in town cater primarily to customers looking for a cheap, spicy foil for beer and Margaritas. Josefina Howard, the co-owner, chef, and guiding spirit of Rosa Mexicano, has been aware of these local circumstances ever since she opened for business about eight years ago. As fair warning to anyone who might sit down at a table in Rosa Mexicano entertaining thoughts of, say, a Taco Combination Platter and a pitcher of watery lager, Mrs. Howard's menu bluntly states, "Because Rosa Mexicano presents classic Mexican cuisine, some of the popular Americanized dishes often associated with Mexican food are not included on our menu."
It shouldn't come as a surprise that her approach rubs some stubborn people the wrong way, whereas other customers count their dinners at Rosa Mexicano among their favorites in New York. Indeed a lack of familiarity with the classic cuisine should not be considered a barrier to full-throttled enjoyment. Mrs. Howard herself is not Mexican: she is Spanish by upbringing - although born in Cuba - and was married to an American. Her passion for Mexican food developed during her twenty-eight years' residence in that country, and she learned to cook from her friends and the people who staffed their kitchens. It amuses her to observe that her East Side restaurant has scrupulously preserved "the Mexican upper middle-class home cooking of the fifties."
Her efforts at maintaining this style pay off night after night. She herself is on hand most of the time, and her staff is unusually kind, loyal to the boss, and patiently ready to explain the dishes on the menu and the day's specialities. The surroundings have a simple charm (Mrs. Howard began as an interior designer) and feature walls and ceilings in shades of pink along with plenty of glazed and unglazed tiles. The bar, the grill, and the tortilla-making department adjoin along one side of the front room, and a splendid display of plants and flowers occupies the center of the side dining room, which is also the area in which smoking is forbidden.
What Mrs. Howard is most eager to teach her patrons is that the Mexican cuisine she loves embraces a bountiful range of the best fresh ingredients. A happily familiar way to begin the meal is with guacamole, but a guacamole with a difference, for Mrs. Howard's version is made to order on a trolley that parks alongside the table. A waiter starts with whole, perfectly ripened California avocados, halves them, scores their flesh, scoops the flesh into a traditional Mexican basalt mortar, or molcajete, and gently stirs in chopped seeded tomatoes, diced onions, and a finely minced mixture of coriander and jalape<*_>n-tilde<*/>os. The fieriness of the mixture is up to the customer. However hot one likes it, the naturally sweet freshness of the avocados shines through.
A fine match for Margaritas - made with superior Tequila - are the elements that constitute Mrs. Howard's array of cold seafood (the elements may be ordered separately or all together). Seviches, made from small scallops and from filleted fish, arrive authentically citric and permeated by green chilies. Lightly marinated oysters are served chilled on oyster shells with strips of pickled green chili; and superb lump crab meat salpic<*_>o-acute<*/>n is quickly sauted with coriander, celery, and just a hint of chilies before it, too, is chilled and served. The truly brave can show off their sturdy palates with 'xalape<*_>n-tilde<*/>os rellenos': pickled roasted chilies with a sardine filling. These push the edge of my tolerance for peppery heat, but I hanker for them nonetheless.
Also to be approached with some caution are the house's special Margaritas, in which freshly extracted pomegranate juice is added to the customary mixture. For reasons I wish I could explain, they appear to drive their drinkers a little loco. Seemingly gentler in their effects are the Mexican beers that Mrs. Howard stocks, including a very dark entry, Negra Modello, which pleasingly underscores the superbly sauced main courses.
<#FROWN:E12\>
Two top pros take different views through the AF SLR
By Dan Richards
AUTOFOCUS? YOU BET!
(If you have a fear of heights, some of Peter B. Kaplan's photos may give you vertigo. Known for spectacular views of the New York City skyline and Statue of Liberty, this 30-year veteran's work includes corporate, wildlife, advertising, and fashion work, and images in many major publications.)
Don't talk to Peter B. Kaplan about trap focus or tracking focus speed or wide-area autofocusing fields. He's sold on autofocus and views it as just another speedy convenience on modern cameras, like autoexposure and motor drives. With it, proper focus becomes one less thing to worry about.
The camera can now focus better and faster than human eyes can, Kaplan says, so why not go with the flow?
"Let's face it: I started wearing glasses seven years ago - which I hated - but with autofocus, wham, I know it's in focus," he says. "But even if I were in my 20s and had perfect vision, I'd use autofocus - what a wonderful, quick way of focusing!"
Kaplan made the move to autofocus in 1989, with Nikon's introduction of the F4S, now his photographic tool of choice. It was not, however, love at first focus, by any means.
"As with any new tool, you first look at it and say, who needs this?" he explains. "In the beginning it used to drive me nuts. But I think that it takes a good year to learn a piece of new equipment. It's a great tool once you learn it - but I still don't go anywhere without the instruction book."
'Learn' and 'know' are two very common words in Kaplan's vocabulary. To him, you're not going to like autofocus if you don't know how to use it, and you're not going to know how to use it if you don't take the time and trouble to learn it. "I would like to say that behind every lightmeter there's a photographer. If you don't know how to use your meter, you won't get the right exposure. If you focus on something in the background because your little autofocusing mark was there, you'll get an out-of-focus picture."
Kaplan makes liberal use of the F4S's independent autofocus-lock button, picking out what he feels is the area of critical focus and then turning his attention to composition and exposure. He autofocuses via the shutter release as well, with action subjects.
Whether the subject is moving or static, Kaplan says that autofocusing increases the certainty of getting a sharp photo. For the photo of the baby polar bear, he notes, the animal was moving around quickly and, in this particular instance, surfaced suddenly and couldn't be prefocused. "Look, I'm sure it's possible that I could have focused as fast - maybe. Then again, I don't know," he says. "You just have more certainty with autofocus."
Kaplan agrees the advantages of autofocus may not seem so clear in static situations - for example, shooting the skyline from the top of the Brooklyn Bridge with the camera on a tripod. "But then there was a truck going across the Manhattan Bridge, and the sun was just coming up. I just locked the auto-focus onto the truck, hit the shutter - and I knew it was in focus. Before, you would take a photo and it would be slightly out of focus. It would be off by just a smidgen, but on a 20 x 30 or 40 x 60 blowup, you're going to see it."
Complaints? He has a few.
Kaplan has a gripe or two about autofocus, to be sure, the major one being hunting (which he calls 'whining,' from the noise the AF motors make). "Yes, it can drive you nuts, as when you're shooting in a foggy situation and it goes wheee wheee and searches. But you switch it over to manual and focus manually. There are advantages and disadvantages to everything."
Also annoying, he notes, is the situation in which the camera balks because you're slightly too close. "It looks like it's in focus, but it isn't, and it won't fire. But that doesn't happen that often."
Kaplan says he understands resistance to autofocus or, for that matter, any new camera technology. "We all get used to old systems. When I first came out of college, I had a handheld meter and a manual camera - that was the system. I got a Nikon Photomic head, but I still used the hand meter because I was a 'professional' and professionals didn't use built-in meters."
But learn to use them he did.
Kaplan's advice? Don't worry about scratching your expensive camera. "That's the main difference between the real pro and what I call the amateur pro - people who buy a tool and don't work the hell out of it. Treat it like tool, not like a jewel, and it will work for you."
AUTOFOCUS? NAH!
(Somewhere along the line you have probably seen a Joel Gordon image. A professional for over 20 years, his work spans advertising, corporate, studio, reportage, and publications, in both color and black-and-white. With his wife, Elaine Abrams, he now runs his own stock agency.)
Joel Gordon has one autofocus lens, but he doesn't own an autofocus camera, unless you count the Olympus Infinity Stylus he uses as a snapshot camera. He has used loaner Nikon F4S's on a number of occasions, but for his 35mm workhorses, he's stayed with F2's and F3's and a battery of manual-focus lenses from 16mm to 500mm.
"The verdict is not in as far as I'm concerned," he says. "I'm not against autofocus; I just don't think autofocus is the boon it's been promoted to be."
And what in the world is Gordon doing with a 180mm f/2.8 AF-Nikkor? Manually focusing it, of course. "It's lighter than the old 180," he says.
One of Gordon's major complaints is a common one, and one heard from autofocus fans as well, such as Gordon's friend, Peter B. Kaplan: hunting. "The autofocus would sometimes go in and out - hunt - and that was very annoying," he says.
Gordon understands all the arguments for autofocus and, in some instances, agrees with them - a bit. "Of course, I think it has its usefulness, for example when covering a news-oriented event where things are happening fast," he says.
Continues Gordon, "The other argument for autofocus is that as you get older (which I am), and as your eyes begin to fail (which photographers discover happening sooner or later), autofocus is a great help. I do wear glasses, and I can understand that."
But Gordon says conditions under which manual focusing is difficult can be difficult for autofocus as well. He adds, "From my experience, I wasn't sure autofocus was always as sharp as manual. You still make mistakes. With the F4s, you had to focus right in the center of the frame. I don't always focus right in the center of the frame or where the autofocusing marks are. The focusing was sometimes off - a lot of times it was on, very good - but it was off more times than I really wanted." And while he has high praise for many of the F4S's features, he says the weight of the camera is a major drawback.
Gordon readily admits that much of his work doesn't necessarily call for an autofocus camera. "I have a little more time. The speed element isn't crucial to me. It allows me to make a determination of my point of focus and my point of view. I like to make that determination and not have a camera make it for me."
Perhaps typical of Gordon's approach is his shot of the road painting in Arizona. He tried vertical and horizontal compositions, than had his wife sit near the top to add a human element. He composed with the drawing going into the bottom of the frame and, from experience, focused on a certain line of the drawing to get hyperfocal depth. He then used depth-of-field preview to check what aperture he could get away with and still handhold with 50-speed film.
Equipment isn't all
This brings us to the crux of Gordon's argument: that it's the cook, not the cookware, that's primary.
"I've seen demonstrations of auto-focus cameras by three major manufacturers. But what made them was the person behind the camera. Someone still has to pick up the camera, view, and compose - that's the key."
But can't you do that with an auto-focus camera just as well?
"I think that autofocus is a useful tool. I'm just saying for what I'm doing most of the time it's not a primary need. I'm not a purist. But I'm a working professional, and the equipment has to produce for me. I can't afford to have equipment sit in my safe gathering dust - this is my livelihood."
Gordon further argues that sophisticated automation, paradoxically, may be fine for the expert but not for the beginner. "A photographer should first learn on a manual camera to learn the principles of photography, and learn to print. Then go to autofocus and automatic cameras. Otherwise, you're just not learning."
Will Gordon eventually switch? "I'm not saying I'm never going to use an autofocus camera because I probably will at some point, and I'll continue to do testing," he answers.
"But I'll probably still keep my F2's as long as there are parts for them."
flash on camera!
How to live with the light source you love to hate
By Robert Salgado
On-camera flash, by far the most widely used artificial-light source on the planet, is also the most despised. On the plus side of the ledger is convenience. Sliding a flash unit into your SLR's hot shoe or popping up its built-in flash eliminates the need for dangling connector cords, brackets, or other paraphernalia. You needn't even acquire the small degree of digital dexterity required to aim an off-camera flash with one hand while holding the camera and pressing the shutter release with the other.
With most recent built-in flashes and state-of-the-art shoe-mount autoflashes, you also get such benefits as automatic, through-the-lens (TTL) exposure control and auto fill-in flash. And today's light, compact, powerful shoe-mounters often provide such amenities as fractional power settings, multiple autoflash ranges, zoom heads that tilt and swivel, and second-curtain synch.
Despite all this admittedly wonderful stuff, on-camera flash still has a bad reputation among many serious photographers, because so many flash-on-camera pictures are afflicted with the notorious 'flash look' - an unappealing combination of pasty white faces, two-dimensional figures, murky backgrounds, and harsh shadows.
The good news is that you needn't resign yourself to any of this. By implementing the simple, straightforward techniques described herein, you'll be able to retain all the conveniences of on-camera flash while achieving pleasant, natural-looking lighting that enhances your subjects without overpowering them.
One of the main problems with on-camera flash is that it's so often used as the sole source of illumination when it doesn't have to be. Indeed, many auto-flash systems encourage this by automatically setting the camera to the top flash-synch speed (typically 1/125 sec), then suggesting or selecting a moderate aperture. This means that any ambient light falling on the subject may have little effect on the exposure, leading to dark backgrounds and flatly lit faces. These negative effects are compounded by shooting straight on, which can add unflattering shadows. As our before-and-after examples illustrate, using a slower shutter speed and/or selecting the fill-flash mode can soften these effects considerably.
The goal is to achieve a pleasant balance between the existing light and the flash illumination. You can also soften the effects by bouncing the light from your shoe-mount flash off a ceiling or wall, and as you can see in the example on pages 34 and 36, even with direct flash it's usually possible to alter your shooting angle to get the shadow to fall behind the subject rather than to one side.
Automatic, balanced fill flash is unquestionably the greatest thing that's happened to on-camera flash since the era of flashbulb.
<#FROWN:E13\>
Banana Split: Can Beautiful St. Lucia replace its threatened export with mass tourism and stay beautiful?
By Nick Taylor and Barbara Nevins
IT SEEMS LIKE A PLACE WHERE NOTHING could ever go wrong, but while we were there something did. The winds and seas had shifted, and bays that under usual conditions are protected were being pounded by heavy swells. Thatch beach huts had been swept from their concrete foundations and lay scattered across the sand and water. Nearby bays had been spared, and the normal round of water sports - sailboarding, water skiing - continued unabated. But the warning was not lost. Never take a tropical paradise for granted.
We were vacationing with Richie, our 12-year-old, on St. Lucia, the Windward Island that lies between Martinique and St. Vincent. It is tempting to call it 'undiscovered,' but that would be misleading: European travelers know it well enough. Only to Americans is it less familiar. Still, for now the atmosphere is unspoiled. Perhaps not for long, St. Lucia is the sort of Caribbean retreat one dreams about.
Already, the sirens of duty-free are luring the cruise ships. The local government is stoking the engines of that juggernaut it calls Development. It is considering the matter of casinos, too, and that is not good news.
It used to be that St. Lucia meant bananas. In a way, it still does. Driving the scenic 27 miles from Hewanorra International Airport to Castries, you hug the rough Atlantic coast, curve up around the fishing village of Dennery, and then turn inland into a lush tropical forest. And bananas are everywhere: bananas still ripening, bananas bagged in blue plastic to repel insects. The plants line the roadsides, flourishing across the wide hills and valleys.
Thanks to bananas, St. Lucia has stayed off the beaten tourist path for a long time. But later this year, when the European Economic Community merges into a single market, this independent member of the British Commonwealth may lose its favored trading status with Great Britain, and the price of its all-important banana exports could drop by as much as 30 percent. No wonder the government is promoting tourism. John G.M. Compton, the prime minister, spoke wisely at the ground-breaking ceremony for a new, multimillion-dollar port: "We are late in this tourism race. We must therefore offer better value if we are to catch up. Trying to make a 'quick killing' will be self-defeating and is the surest recipe for failure. 'Quality, price, and service' must be our watchword."
It remains to be seen whether St. Lucia will learn from the mistakes made by other island nations. In the meantime, it survives as a relic of the old Caribbean - charming, somnolent, slightly inconvenient. Exploring the island is not easy; the roads are in poor shape and the services by no means abundant. But the locals are friendly, and the scenery is spectacular. The twin volcanic peaks known as Les Pitons (Gros, 2,619 feet, and Petit, 2,461 feet) rival the most dramatic sites of Hawaii. If you sit on the left side of the plane, you will see them as you fly in to Hewanorra, a onetime military airfield, which lies on the arid flatlands to the south. The resorts are where the scenery is, to the north.
Our discovery of St. Lucia began on that 45-minute drive. In a typical St. Lucian arrangement, the taxi driver, Henry, had brought along his son, Jerome. Jerome and Richie hit it off right away, and Jerome, with a little prompting, began initiating Richie into dub, the islanders' breathless expositional talking music - part rap, part reggae, turned up to double speed. While this was going on, Henry pulled over at the edge of a towering cliff.
"Please," he said, with old island courtesy, "look at the view." The fishing village below, lashed by the foaming sea, might have been a spot on Portugal's breathtaking Algarve coast. Then came those banana groves, where people on foot and on bicycles were heading home from work and children stared and giggled at the sight of visitors. We were still a novelty.
Dropping us at our hotel, Henry suggested we attend that evening's street festival in the village of Gros Islet, near the northern tip of the island. They have one of these every Friday night, he told us, "a real Caribbean party." The locals' name for it is 'jump up,' and though visitors are welcome it's not staged for the tourists.
The streets of Gros Islet were crowded with St. Lucians and the rest of us, many brought by hotel buses. In the balmy night air, vendors hawked barbecued chicken and beer from their own front porches. Funky bars (one proudly displaying its license to purvey 'intoxicated liquors') had tables set up right in the street. A booming sound system transformed the main intersection into a dance floor. The locals and the tourists moved easily together, like neighbors at a block party. About 11:30 there was a brownout all over town. As the lights flickered and went dim, the stars and the waxing moon came out in full glory against the wispy clouds. The music continued, more softly now and even more magical.
St. Lucia, with a population of about 150,000, welcomed just over 250,600 visitors in 1990, bringing in revenues of $154.8 million. The government is looking for slow, steady growth - in the range of 4 to 6 percent annually - over the next several years. Conservative as these projections are, many islanders are concerned about the changes they see ahead. Most St. Lucians are Catholic, which reflects the strong French presence in the island's convoluted history, and the majority are thought to oppose the idea of casinos. But even if no casino is ever built, the islanders are having to adjust to sharing their corner of paradise.
One morning we went walking out along the water by the luxurious resort Cunard Hotel La Toc. At the end of the beach we encountered a man in dreadlocks named Peterson Joseph, carving birds from coconut husks. He told us that St. Lucian men often transpose their first and last names; he didn't know why. We enjoyed the chat, and he sold us a bird. A generation ago, such free-lance craftsmen had few customers for their wares.
Lisa Sampson, who spends her days promoting the beautiful rental condos of Windjammer Landing, talks wistfully of her childhood years of growing up on Labrelotte Bay. The buildings that now line the beach had not yet been built, and Sampson well recalls playing in the crystal-clear surf when there was not another soul for miles around. The water still sparkles, and all the island beaches are still open to anyone, but solitude may be a thing of the past.
Behind such memories, though, lies a turbulent, often violent, history. The first human beings to discover St. Lucia were the Arawaks, members of a South American tribe who settled the island before A.D. 300. Then came the Caribs - cannibals, some sources claim - who killed the Arawaks off. Columbus may or may not have weighed anchor on St. Lucy's Day (December 13) in 1502; local tradition says he did. A hundred years later, some Englishmen washed ashore and came to grief at the hands of the Caribs; in 1660 the French persuaded the Caribs to enter into a treaty, gaining control of the island. But not for long. For the next century and a half, the French and the English made intermittent war over the island. In 1814 hostilities ceased, with the British in charge.
The stakes were high: the fine natural harbor and a succession of lucrative crops - sugarcane, coconuts, cotton, and, finally, the famous bananas - harvested in the early days by slaves imported from western Africa, the ancestors of most of the population today. Before the opening of the Panama Canal, Castries was an important coaling stop for steamships; keeping pace with the technology of the times, the city now attracts ships with its large, modern facilities for storing oil. With the weekly influx of cruise ships and freighters and frequent sightings of the Geestbay, the slender banana boat that carries St. Lucia's crop to England, the port harbor bustles much as it did in the 19th century. Architecturally, though, only a fanciful fa<*_>c-cedille<*/>ade here and there recalls the grand colonial style. The town has suffered many fires, and the prevailing building style is drably modern.
What lingers and indeed flourishes on St. Lucia is the speech of the long-departed French. Though English is the official language, what you hear in the marketplace and on the streets is mainly French patois. And French place-names dot the map everywhere, from towns like Micoud, Vieux Fort, and Soufri<*_>e-grave<*/>re to landmarks like Les Pitons and Pointe Seraphine and coves like Anse la Raye.
One day we rented an open jeep and set off along the fast, smooth coast road toward Soufri<*_>e-grave<*/>re, near the medicinal sulfur springs. As we turned into Marigot Bay, we were suddenly joined by a young fellow named Robert, who asked for a ride even as he was leaping onto our bumper. As our self-appointed guide, he stuck with us all the way to Anse la Raye, at which point we let him know we preferred to continue on our own.
Beyond Anse la Raye the road deteriorates and the signs of poverty multiply. We saw ramshackle houses, rusting vehicles, people washing laundry in the mountain streams. They waved us off when Richie aimed his camera, and we wished we hadn't imposed. Two more young men accosted us, trying to commandeer rides or sell us trinkets. Some travelers we met reported running into holdups on the back roads, but although some of the attentions we received were not wanted, we never felt that we were in actual danger. Still, if we had it to do over again, we would rent a closed car.
Switchback curves and potholes turned the 28-mile drive into a two-hour ordeal. Poor Richie had the worst of it, levitating above the backseat as we bounced along. One of his homework assignments from school was to ask St. Lucians what one thing they would change on their island. Most of them instantly replied that they would fix the roads. We felt much the same.
A far better way to get to the area near Soufri<*_>e-grave<*/>re is by speedboat, as we discovered later in the week. In just 40 painless minutes, a fast, outboard-powered launch from Castries Harbor whisked us to Anse Chastanet, an exquisite small resort, where we went snorkeling amid the coral, feeding bread to swarming fish in all the colors of the rainbow.
And just a few coves away, beyond Soufri<*_>e-grave<*/>re, are the breathtaking Pitons.
The two peaks are the remains of a volcanic fault that geologists in their wisdom classify as inactive but not dormant. Its subterranean simmerings are responsible for what is billed as the world's 'only drive-in volcano': a moonscape of bubbling, belching sulfur springs that feed a steaming river of dark water. Actually, the road to the springs is closed now; you park at a nearby gate, buy you a ticket for $1, and see the sights in the company of a guide.
Five miles away, similar springs feed Diamond Falls, which changes color eerily from yellow to black to gray to green several times a day and spills over the cliffs. Louis XVI had baths constructed here for the benefit of his French soldiers, and for $2 you can test the curative effects of the waters. (They are said to work wonders on a hangover.) The surrounding mountains rise to a dramatic 3,000-plus feet, trapping the clouds that nourish a luxuriant rain forest, the habitat of the brilliantly plumed St. Lucia green parrot and many other rare species.
Reconnoitering by car and boat, we found other signs of efforts to protect the island's endangered species and sites. Pigeon Island National Park, on a 44-acre island near the northern tip of St. Lucia, once a pirates' hideout, is now connected to the main island by a causeway.
<#FROWN:E14\>
Fifty years ago, if my mother had put a plate of vegetables with no meat in front of my father for dinner, he would have thought she was demented or that we had suffered some financial disaster he didn't know about. Actually, my husband would have thought the same thing a few dozen years back. Those were the meat and potato years: bacon for breakfast, cold meat for lunch, and a roast for dinner.
When I was growing up in a small foothill town in Southern California, it seemed as if there were only about five or six fresh vegetables in our grocery store: carrots, string beans, cabbage, lettuce, and corn, and maybe one or two others. Vegetables certainly played second fiddle in my mother's cooking. I know we had string beans because I can remember stringing them. And I know we had carrots, but always raw, because my mother had read in some government pamphlet that they were better for us that way. My Irish father considered corn-on-the-cob to be cattle fodder, so our table never saw an ear of corn. He said almost every other vegetable was rabbit food.
Times have changed. The produce departments in supermarkets are huge, and we have a vast variety of vegetables. Cooks from around the world have introduced us to tomatillos, gingerroot, chile peppers, bok choy, and cilantro, to name a few plant foods new to most of us, and our cooking is far more interesting because of them.
All the recipes in this chapter are main supper dishes, and all of them are vegetable dishes except for a few pasta and rice recipes. Many of them have been collected over the years from friends and strangers eager to share a favorite vegetable dish. Green Chile Pie (see page 135) came from a county fair winner long ago. Linda Sue's Tomato Stew (see page 138) came from a photographer who doesn't cook except once in a while when she's homesick for this dish from her childhood. And Frieda and Elinor's Onion Pie (see page 133) came from the Swiss Alps by way of an Idaho housewife.
Southern Green Beans
(four servings)
For the last few years most of us have been following the recommended way of cooking green beans until just tender, because we believed that long cooking destroyed flavor and vitamins. But Southern Green Beans with potatoes and a hint of bacon have a fullness of flavor and depth of character that crunchy beans don't have. Serve with warm cornbread.
3 or 4 slices smoky-style bacon, diced
1 pound green snap beans, washed, ends trimmed, and cut into 1-inch lengths
Salt and pepper to taste
1 cup water
2 scallions, sliced
2 medium potatoes, peeled and diced
Heat a Dutch oven or heavy-bottomed pot with a lid. Add the bacon, and cook over medium-low heat until lightly brown, about 5 minutes. Add the green beans, salt and pepper, and water. Cover and cook for about 10 minutes over medium-low heat. Add the scallions and potatoes, stir to mix, cover, and cook for 30 minutes more. Check once or twice to make sure the liquid hasn't all evaporated. Serve hot.
FARMERS' MARKET
A visit to the farmers' market can be as inspiring and as uplifting as a trip to Yosemite. If you've never eaten fruit that has been tree ripened, or cooked vegetables at their peak of maturity, you can't imagine what you've been missing. Going to the farmers' market, walking from stand to stand, and talking to friendly people is a very pleasant experience.
Supermarkets, with their vast array of foods, are fascinating and indispensable, but a farmers' market, with fewer foods to buy, all of them fresh and sold by their growers, is so much more personal. There's an appreciation at my supper table when the dishes have been made from the produce of farmers I know.
Often you'll find people exchanging recipes at the market and that can be rewarding. I usually return home each week with some cooking tip or a fresh herb to cook a new way with a favorite vegetable. Some of the recipes I collected at the farmers' market are Wirtabel's Melon Chutney (see page 178), Green Peppers and Cheese (see page 113), and New Red Potatoes with Rosemary (see page 116).
Red Beans and White Rice
(six servings)
Beans and rice are oddly delicious together. You may approach this Creole dish with low expectations, but once you've tried it, you'll see why it's a beloved staple in the South. The nutritionists keep telling us to put more legumes and grains in our diets, and I can't think of a better way to do that than serving red beans alongside white rice.
2 cups (about 1 pound) dried red beans, soaked overnight (see page 18)
1 carrot, peeled and diced
1 large onion, chopped
1/4 cup chopped celery with leaves
1 bay leaf
2 teaspoons Tabasco sauce
1 pound salt pork, diced
Salt and pepper to taste
2 cups steamed long-grain white rice (see page 55)
Drain and rinse the beans, return them to the pot, and add the carrot, onion, celery, bay leaf, Tabasco sauce, and salt pork. Add enough water to cover, bring to a boil, reduce the heat, and simmer for about 2 hours, or until the beans are tender. Some of the beans should be mushy. Add more water if necessary, or mash some beans to thicken. Salt and pepper to taste, being careful not to over-salt. Serve the beans in the same bowl with the rice, side by side.
Boston Baked Beans
(four servings)
I don't think Bostonians bake their beans overnight in the ashes of their fireplaces anymore, but Boston baked beans still need to be long cooked to have that rich, mellow flavor that only long, slow cooking creates. Once you have quickly assembled the dish and put the beans in the oven, they don't need you, except to check up hourly to see if more liquid is needed. This dish can be made on a Sunday and reheated. Serve with Piccalilli (see page 177) and Coleslaw (see page 187).
2 cups Great Northern beans, or small dried white beans, soaked overnight (see page 18)
2 teaspoons dry mustard
3 tablespoons dark brown sugar
3 tablespoons molasses
1/4 pound salt pork, cut into 1/2-inch cubes, leaving the bottom attached to the rind
Preheat the oven to 325<*_>degree<*/>F.
Drain the beans, cover with fresh water, and cook until tender, about 1 hour. Drain, reserving the liquid. Stir together the mustard, brown sugar, molasses, and 2 cups of the reserved liquid. Put the salt pork in a 2-quart bean pot or casserole, add the beans, and then add the molasses mixture. Stir to blend. Cover and bake for 5 to 6 hours. They are done when soft. Check every hour or so to make sure the beans don't dry out. Add more of the reserved liquid, or water, as needed to keep the beans moist. Taste and correct seasonings. Serve hot.
Bean Stew with Raw Onions
(four servings)
Adding fresh raw onions to this dish just before you serve it boosts the taste and texture. Make this bean stew and taste it before and after you add the chopped raw onion: you will be surprised by the difference.
1 1/4 cups dried red or pinto beans, soaked overnight (see page 18)
6 slices bacon
8 cups water
1 large onion, chopped (1 cup)
3 stalks celery, chopped
1 cup chopped parsley
1/3 cup yellow cornmeal
1/8 to 1/4 medium head cabbage, chopped (2 cups)
1 1/2 teaspoons ground sage
1 1/2 teaspoons salt
2 medium onions, chopped (1 1/2 cups)
Drain the beans. Put aside 1 slice of bacon and dice the rest. In a large (5-quart) soup pot, put the beans, diced bacon, and water. Bring to a boil and cook over low heat for 30 minutes.
In a frying pan, cook the remaining bacon slice until crisp. Remove from the pan, crumble, and set aside. Add the 1 cup chopped onion, celery, and parsley to the bacon drippings. Saut the vegetables over medium heat until soft, about 5 minutes.
Add the cornmeal to the beans and bacon in the soup pot, and stir to mix. Add the sauted vegetables, cabbage, sage, and salt, and stir. Cover and cook for 30 more minutes. Just before serving, stir in the 1 1/2 cups chopped onions or sprinkle the onions on top of individual servings with the crumbled bacon. Serve hot.
Green Peppers and Cheese
(four servings)
One Saturday at the farmers' market I was buying some Anaheim chiles and the woman next to me asked me if I had ever made Peppers and Cheese. "It's so simple," she said. "Do try it!" I did, and she was right.
2 tablespoons olive oil
8 Anaheim or California chile peppers, split, seeded, and deveined
6 ounces Monterey Jack, fontina, or Gouda cheese, sliced
1 large onion, finely chopped
2 tablespoons corn oil
8 tortillas (corn, flour, or whole wheat)
Fresh cilantro
Heat the olive oil in a frying pan. Put in the peppers, open and skin sides down, and flatten them with a spatula as they cook. Cook over medium heat for about 5 minutes, or until the skins are blistered and browned. Put 1 slice of cheese and 2 tablespoons of onion in each pepper. Fold the pepper over the cheese and cook over low heat 1 minute, then remove from the heat. Warm the tortillas by putting two at a time in a steamer over boiling water. Leave only for a few seconds. Remove and keep warm in a covered dish. Put a filled pepper and a few sprigs or cilantro into each warm tortilla and fold the tortilla in half. Serve hot.
Filled Green Peppers
(four servings)
In the summertime, all the ingredients for this dish will be at the farmers' market. The quality of the tomatoes is important, and for a short time in the summer they will be perfect: sweet, acidic, firm, juicy, and bright red. This is a very practical dish: the filled bell pepper halves are easy to pick up and eat cold on a picnic, yet they are just as good served hot on a plate. Serve a sharp, creamy cheese, green onions, and whole wheat bagels on the side.
4 green bell peppers, halved lengthwise, seeded, and deveined
2 tablespoons olive oil
3 cloves garlic, finely chopped
1 large onion, chopped
2 medium tomatoes, peeled and chopped
1 small eggplant, chopped
1 tablespoon chopped fresh oregano; or 1 1/2 teaspoons dried crumbled oregano
Salt to taste
Generous amount of pepper
Fresh basil leaves, for garnish
Preheat the oven to 350<*_>degree<*/>F. Film a 9 x 13-inch Pyrex baking dish with olive oil.
Put the peppers into a pot of salted, boiling water; place a plate in the pot on top of the peppers to keep them under the water; and parboil for 4 minutes. Remove and set aside.
Film a saut pan with the olive oil and heat. Add the garlic and onion and cook over medium heat for a minute or two, just to soften. Add the tomatoes, eggplant, oregano, salt, and pepper. Stir to mix and blend thoroughly. Taste for salt and correct if necessary. Cover the pan and cook over medium-low heat for 10 minutes, stirring once or twice. Uncover and cook another 3 minutes, stirring often. Remove from heat.
Put the pepper halves in the prepared baking dish. Using a slotted spoon, fill the halves with the tomato/eggplant mixture. Bake for 20 minutes. Remove and serve hot or cold, with whole, fresh basil leaves on top.
Baked Green Peppers with Anchovies, Rice, and Dill
(four servings)
Unless you know you love anchovies, this dish may not be for you. The pepper halves are filled with the brazen flavors of olives, garlic, lemon, dill, and salty fish.
4 green bell peppers, cut in half lengthwise, stemmed, seeded, and deveined
2-ounce can anchovy fillets, packed in oil
<#FROWN:E15\>
Bazaar Bonanza
Twice a year the 24 members of The Ladies Aid Society of the First Reformed Church of Pella, Iowa, hold bazaars to help the church with expensive improvements. Recently they raised $10,000 to help with the cost of installing an elevator in the church. They sold crocheted afghans, pieced quilts, knitted slippers, woven rag rugs ... and hundreds of homemade pies and pressed chicken sandwiches.
Agnes Mathes is on the Ways and Means Committee; Rose Duven is this year's chairman. According to Agnes, the woven rag rugs are their best sellers. Two members do the weaving, but all get involved during 'Sewing Days' in tearing the fabric strips for the weavers (denim strips with blue warp is the favorite). The ladies also like to piece quilts for dolls, although Agnes tells us that some customers buy them for their dogs which is okay with her. Her most popular bazaar contributions are knitted slippers and bed socks.
We know that there are thousands of these bazaars in communities across the country, and we salute all the stitchers who donate their time and talents!
And we know that there are a lot of craft fairs where enterprising crafters secure space and retail their creations for profit. We think it is a great way to bring attention to the special quality of handmade items!
In this issue of McCall's Needlework and Crafts, tucked among our collection of patterns, you'll find over 40 projects specially selected to be bazaar best sellers!
A SMILE & A TOUCH OF HUMOR
We'd like to introduce you to a new member of our family. She's a wife and mother, has a sense of humor and a cat, and best of all she loves to knit, sew, crochet, paint. She's always busy creating something like someone you know. Her name is Maggie McCall and she's today's 'crafty' woman!
You'll find Maggie turning up on our pages every now and then - just for a smile.
Fall Colors, Textures and Styles
There is something for everyone in this season's fashion forecast:
Plaids and patchwork are very popular. Blues, purples, violets, denim, and tweeds are highlighted with embroidery details and textures.
Big, bold outerwear in buffalo plaids, blanket patterning and Americana motifs will be musts for your wardrobe. Look for toggles, frog closures and hoods in desert tones, and fall colors.
Ribs are everywhere. You'll find them in knitwear, both in body hugging and loose fitting styles. Mohair, boucls, soft merino wools, and tweeds in subtle colors dominate the fashion scene.
Browns and grays are important this fall. Bright colors retain their popularity in activewear. Look for faux jewels, fake furs, and metallics. We've been paying close attention to these trends and have selected sweaters and accessories for our coming issues to fit these styles!
MR. AND MRS. SANTA BELLS
shown on page 45
SIZE: Each, 2 3/4".
MATERIALS
Plum Fun Wood Products 2 3/4" wood bells with rings, two. DecoArt Americana acrylic paints: flesh tone, gooseberry (medium rose), brandy wine (burgundy), slate gray, white wash, black, and leaf green. Deco-Art Snow-Tex white textured paint and extender. Paintbrushes: No. 2 round and old, small brush. Krylon spray varnish. Fine-tip permanent black marker. Fine sandpaper. Toothpicks.
BELLS
PREPARATION: Sand bells lightly. Basecoat the Santa bell with two coats of brandy wine and the Mrs. Santa bell with two coats of gooseberry; let dry.
Refer to Fig. 1 and use a pencil to lightly draw grid lines and pattern outlines on each bell. Continue hat, hair and clothing pattern lines around the back of the bell.
PAINTING: Basecoat faces with flesh tone. Mix a small amount of extender with gooseberry, dip finger in mixture, and pat on each face for cheeks; let dry.
Santa: Basecoat the hat with two coats of gooseberry. Refer to the photo and paint the berries on the hat with brandy wine and the leaves with leaf green.
Using an old brush, dab Snow-Tex on bell ring to make the hat tassel; clear ring hole with a toothpick. Applying small amounts of Snow-Tex at a time, carefully fill in beard, then moustache using the paintbrush and the nose using a toothpick. Let dry overnight. Paint over all Snow-Tex areas except nose with slate gray and let dry. Paint over gray with white wash, letting areas of gray show through for shading.
Paint the nose with flesh and blush the tip with thinned gooseberry. Paint eyes using the wood end of the paintbrush. Using white wash, paint the eyebrows, hair on forehead, and add highlight dots to the nose, cheeks, eyes, and berries.
Mrs. Santa: Applying two coats of each color, basecoat the collar with brandy wine and the apron with white wash.
Using an old brush, dab Snow-Tex over bell ring and hair; clear ring hole with toothpick. Apply Snow-Tex to nose with a toothpick. Let dry overnight. Paint over hair with slate gray and let dry. Paint over gray with white wash, letting areas of gray show through for shading.
Paint the berries on the hair with brandy wine and the leaves with leaf green.
Paint the mouth with gooseberry and the nose with flesh, blushing the tip with thinned gooseberry. Paint eyes using the wood end of the paintbrush. Using white wash, paint the eyebrows and collar buttons, and add highlight dots to the mouth, cheeks, nose, eyes, and berries.
Finishing: Use the fine-tip permanent marking pen to ink outlines and pattern details; let dry.
Spray lightly with varnish.
PERFORATED PAPER HOLIDAY EARRINGS
shown on pages 44-45
SIZE: Approximately 1"-1 1/2" high x 1" wide.
MATERIALS
For all: Perforated paper, twelve 2" squares each white for stitching and gold for backing. DMC six-strand embroidery floss, one 8-meter skein each color listed in Color Key. Kreinik Fine #8 Braid, one 10-m. (11-yd.) spool gold #002HL. Six pairs of earwires or French ear clips, silver.
EARRINGS
Draw intersecting lines across each chart to mark the center. Measure across paper and mark its center. Matching centers of paper and chart, cross-stitch each design twice on white perforated paper squares. Use the stab-stitching method and three strands floss or one strand braid.
Assembly: Using craft knife, cut out each motif one square beyond last row of stitching, leaving extra squares in tight corners. Layer gold squares and white shapes wrong sides facing. Use three strands floss or one strand braid to backstitch front and back together following backstitching lines. Backstitch jack-o-lanterns and snowmen with black, ornaments with gold braid, hearts with dark mauve, shamrocks with dark emerald green, and Easter eggs with dark violet. Weave thread ends between the two layers. Attach jewelry findings to top or back as desired.
Through The Editor's Eyes
What do you want to be when you grow up? Some of us as youngsters changed our minds daily, while others seemed to be predestined to follow a path from the beginning. Little did I know that my lifelong love affair with crafts would lead me to become the new editor of McCall's Needlework and Crafts. Raised by a seamstress and a jack-of-all-trades, and instructed in the needlearts by nuns in primary school, I developed a love for all forms of creative crafts from early childhood. Some of you may recognize my name from my years of freelance work with many publications and from my knitting books. "What is your favorite craft?", you ask. Although I have been concentrating primarily on knitting, crochet and cross-stitch for sanity's sake, I also love to quilt, sew, stencil, do woodworking and stained glass, needlepoint and crewel - well, basically all sorts of crafts. And therefore, like many of you, I am interested in a magazine which provides me with projects of quality, style and variety.
As the editor at McCall's Needlework and Crafts, I select patterns from other established, as well as new, designers with the right style and appeal for you, the readers. Having been on the 'other side of the fence' as a designer, I know how patterns should be written, which materials are best suited, and what types of projects are of interest. In order for a design to be selected, several criteria must be met, and the following questions must be answered:
How does a design concept meet our standards?: Quality, where all details have been attended to, where colors, materials, and styles have been carefully selected for your inspiration.
How do we keep you coming back for more, issue after issue?: Originality, always searching for new techniques, new stitch combinations, new products, while keeping abreast of the trends and your interests.
How do we meet the need of several crafters with different interests?: Variety, a medley of projects, carefully balancing knitting, crocheting, cross-stitch, and quilting, along with a dash of some other interesting crafts (see page 78 for fabric painting!).
I know you invest more than your time and talents in your projects. The patterns featured will always reflect a detailed attention to our standards, and only those good enough to be of interest to you will find their way into the pages of McCall's Needlework and Crafts. After all, the most important person here at McCall's is you, the reader.
A Chat With The Cover Girl
By Annemarie Lawson
Take note of the model gracing this issue's cover. Nicole Bobek, at the age of fourteen, is one of the top ten female skaters in the United States! In 1991, Nicole placed first in both the Vienna Cup and Olympic Festival, and placed eighth in the National Senior Competition. She is currently a member of the United States Figure Skating Association and is competing to be named to the USA Olympic Team. I met Nicole after her appearance along with other National Competitors asat the RockefellarRockefeller Center ice rink in New York City.
Nicole has been an athlete from infancy. Her mother took Nicole to swimming lessons and gymnastic classes before she was one year old. She started skating at three and showed so much promise that her parents relocated to Colorado Springs from Chicago so that Nicole could attend the Olympic Training Center.
Nicole has a daily routine in which every minute counts. Her schedule includes five periods of high school classes, four hours of rigorous form training, an academic session with her private tutor, then back to the ice for skating practice.
Like many teens, Nicole relaxes by calling friends, shopping, and reading. She also manages to find time to be creative. "Recently I've beaded a lot of necklaces and earrings," she told us. "Before that I was decorating jeans and tee-shirts with rhinestones and fabric paint." Nicole is also proud of her stained glass. She learned the technique from her Grandpa George. What's her favorite motif? "Ice skates, of course!"
On the fashion front, Nicole can usually be seen in sweaters. "I prefer a close fit and shorter length for practicing," she explained. "You need to see the movement of the body in competition. Ribbed knits and turtlenecks are great because it's so cold on the ice!" Stripes and checks are her favored designs, along with plaids. Nicole is also an avid hat collector.
The next National Competition is in early January 1992. The winner will compete in the winter '92 Olympics in France. We'll be watching for you, Nicole!
April showers bring May flowers ... as we share with you some of our own colorful projects. A flower basket quilt to brighten your bedroom, mother/daughter sweater sets to prance in on these sunny spring days, a delicately stitched baby birth announcement for that special newborn, plus some rabbits and Easter eggs for the holiday season ... lots more wonderful springtime ideas to inspire the creative person in you!
PAINTED BABY QUILT
shown on page 78
SIZE: 32" x 44".
MATERIALS
Broadcloth 44" wide: yellow, 1 1/2 yards (includes backing); white, 3/4 yard; royal blue, 1/2 yard. Duncan Scribbles Matchables matte fabric paint, one 1-oz. (30-ml) bottle each: lemon yellow, bright blue, bright yellow, apricot, bright orange, light pink, lipstick pink, light turquoise, deep turquoise, and bright red.
<#FROWN:E16\>
AVIATION
30 SECONDS OVER TOKYO
50th anniversary of the most famous air raid in history
BY WILLIAM GARVEY
It's hard to imagine now, but not all that long ago the United States was left bleeding and humiliated by an attacker who, confident he'd paralyzed his victim, went on to grab everything within reach. It was January 1942, and what had been the engines of the country's pride and power in the Pacific, its Asiatic fleet, was a collection of sunken hulls and twisted superstructures leaking fuel oil and sailors' blood into Pearl Harbor's once-azure water.
In the month that had passed since the Day of Infamy put the U. S. Navy out of action, the Japanese forces rampaged across the Pacific. Every day the news got worse. We needed a victory bad.
Almost from the moment he learned of the unprovoked surprise attack on the Hawaiian Islands, President Franklin D. Roosevelt demanded that his military leaders strike back. Specifically, he wanted American airplanes to bomb the Japanese home islands - to put it right in their face. And he wanted those bombs to fall soon.
The problem was that there was no apparent way to comply. There were no bombers based anywhere near striking distance of Japan, and moving one of the Navy's precious carriers close enough to conduct such a mission with naval aircraft would make it vulnerable to overwhelming retaliation.
But then an unlikely 4-striper came up with an audacious idea. Capt. Francis Low, a submariner, suggested a strike with long-range Army bombers launched from a Navy flat-top operating well away from the Japanese coast. The idea caught fire in Washington - theoretically it would work. And the best man to put the theory into flight was the balding, middle-aged lieutenant colonel right down the hall.
Years before the outbreak of war, James H. Doolittle had already secured his place in the Hall of Aviation Immortals. A 'daredevil' pilot who actually calculated all risks very carefully - he held a Ph. D. in aeronautical science from MIT - Doolittle had set transcontinental speed records, won a brace of races, performed the first outside loop and conducted the first 'blind' flight on instruments. As the war clouds gathered, he returned to active duty and was stationed in Washington, D.C., when the carrier-borne bomber idea was broached. Doolittle was told to help find the right bomber.
The rough criteria for the aircraft: It had to be able to operate from an exceedingly confined space and take off in less than 500 ft. while hauling a ton of bombs and enough fuel to fly 2000 miles. Only one airplane in the inventory fit the bill: the new North American B-25 Mitchell medium bomber. And it would require modifications. Doolittle requested and got the nod to honcho what was officially the 'Special Project,' and things started happening very quickly.
Two dozen B-25s were fitted with specially designed rubber tanks inserted in the bomb bay and above. Also, some aircraft were fitted with automatic cameras. Meanwhile, crews assigned to the 17th Bombardment Group - among the most experienced B-25 airmen in the service - were told that volunteers were needed for an important, dangerous mission. They all wanted in. Those chosen were sent to Eglin Field in Florida for special training. Richard Cole, one of the copilots selected, remembers the speculation that went on every night about the upcoming mission. They all knew it would involve flying off a carrier. After all, a Navy instructor had been assigned to them for that task. But why and where?
It was during this phase of training for short-field takeoffs that Cole's pilot became ill and had to drop out. To prevent theirs from becoming one of the project's reserve aircraft, the crew appealed to the operations officer. He replied, "The old man's coming in this afternoon. He'll fly with you and if everything goes right, you've got yourself a pilot."
Cole says he and his three other crewmen were ecstatic for the chance to stay in the mission, "but we had no idea who the old man was." On March 3, they and the rest of the men gathered at Eglin found out.
"My name's Doolittle," the one-time collegiate fighter told the assembly. "I've been put in charge of the project that you men have volunteered for. It's a tough one, and it will be the most dangerous thing any of you have ever done." He told them of the importance and urgency of training that lay ahead, but withheld the name of their destination. Secrecy, he explained, was of critical importance.
As the pilots refined their short-field takeoff technique, modifications proceeded on the aircraft. Doolittle ordered the bottom gun turret removed (the mission would be so low-level the only enemy planes below them would be sitting on the ground) and replaced with a 60-gallon fuel tank. De-icing boots were installed, as well as anti-ice for the props. Liaison radios were removed and phony twin .50s (they were broomsticks painted black, actually) were installed in the tail to make enemy fighters think twice about attacking from the rear.
The B-25s were normally equipped with the super-secret, high-altitude Norden bombsight, which lost its effectiveness below 4000ft. Since bomb release on this mission was planned for 1500 ft., the Norden sight was replaced with a rudimentary sighting device composed of two pieces of aluminum that Eglin technicians fashioned specifically for the mission. Whereas the Norden cost more than $10,000, the value of the Eglin sight was estimated at 20 cents. Each.
Although Doolittle was in charge, he had not yet been assigned to lead the actual strike, something he was burning to do. So with crew training well underway, he flew to Washington and put the request directly to Gen. Henry 'Hap' Arnold, chief of staff for the Army Air Forces.
Then 45, Doolittle was thought to be too old for combat and, besides, he was too valuable an aide. Arnold had no intention of granting the request. But Doolittle persisted until the general reluctantly agreed - with the stipulation that Doolittle must also get the okay from Gen. Millard Harmon, Arnold's chief of staff.
Doolittle smelled a rat. Exiting Arnold's office he raced down the hall to Harmon's desk and told the surprised general that Arnold said he could lead the raid if Harmon agreed. "Sure, Jim," he responded. "Whatever is all right with Hap is all right with me." Doolittle left. Just outside the office he heard Harmon's intercom come to life and then heard Harmon say, "But Hap, I just gave him my permission." The quick-footed colonel then high-tailed it back to Florida and waited for Arnold to yank his chain. But he never did.
On April 2, the carrier Hornet steamed out of San Francisco Bay with 16 Mitchell bombers tied down on its deck. Still, only a handful of men knew their true purpose and destination. That afternoon as the Hornet sped west into the open Pacific, the ship's loudspeaker suddenly blared the stupendous news: "This force is bound for Tokyo."
Richard Cole remembers the moment, "Cheers went up everywhere. Everyone was happy." America was punching back.
The plan of action called for the Hornet and the seven cruisers and destroyers accompanying it to rendezvous with Adm. William F. Halsey's 8-ship group in mid-Pacific, forming Task Force 16. The armada would then steam to within 400 miles of Tokyo, launch Doolittle's raiders and run full-speed back home. After dropping 32,000 pounds of ordnance on Tokyo, Yokohama, Nagoya, Osaka and Kobe, the bombers were to continue west to airfields located in sections of mainland China still un-occupied by the Japanese. They were to land, refuel and fly farther inland to Chungking and await further orders. The bombing was to occur at night, and landings were to take place at dawn. Total flight distance was approximately 2000 miles.
It didn't quite work out that way. On the morning of April 18, Navy lookouts spotted a Japanese fishing boat which they soon realized was really a radio-equipped sentry. Even though they were still more than 200 miles short of their intended launch point, Halsey knew the whole task force was in jeopardy of attack. He flashed a signal to the Hornet: "Launch planes. To Col. Doolittle and gallant command, good luck and God bless you."
Suddenly the Hornet's Klaxons sounded and loudspeakers shouted, "Army pilots, man your planes!" Eighty pilots, bombardiers, navigators and gunners scrambled topside. Richard Cole and his crew were on deck in a flash. "I wanted to make sure I was there before him [Doolittle]," he says. Tiedowns were ripped down and chocks pulled as the Hornet turned directly into a howling wind. The weather was foul with rain squalls, low clouds and 30-ft. seas.
After confirming that his bombs were armed, Doolittle climbed aboard. His was the lead plane, of course. He brought his two Wright R-2600s to life, checked the instruments and eyed the flagman on the deck ahead. At 31,000 pounds, his plane was 2000 pounds over its maximum. He had only 460 ft. of runway, and he had never flown off a carrier before. None of his men had either.
Checklist complete, Doolittle gave a thumbs-up to the flagman, who signaled back to advance throttles. Then, just as the fore-deck began moving up from a swell, the signal officer knelt and pointed his checkered flag at the bow. Go! Doolittle released the brakes. Its big props screaming, the B-25 began to lumber forward. Every eye on the ship moved with it. As the aircraft passed the Hornet's island, Doolittle hauled back on the yoke and the nose wheel came up. Moments later the mains broke free. He was airborne with 100 ft. to spare. The rest of the Mitchells followed, with the last one airborne at 9:20 am, exactly 1 hour after Doolittle.
Inbound to Japan, the bombers stayed low, about 200 to 300 ft. above sea level, and slow, under 200 mph, to conserve fuel. Several spotted enemy planes, but apparently they were undetected because none were attacked. Doolittle and Cole were the first to make land-fall, which they estimated was 80 miles north of Tokyo. Doolittle banked toward the capital city. Cole remembers it being a sunny, hazy day with low clouds.
Reaching the outskirts of Tokyo, Doolittle climbed to 1200 ft., lined up on his target (an industrial area) and opened the bomb-bay doors. There were no heroic shouts, no stirring words - Doolittle was a by-the-numbers guy - when at 12:30 pm, four 500-pound incendiary bombs fell from his airplane and rained fire and destruction right in the middle of Tokyo, the emperor's home town. Other raiders soon joined in, dropping their incendiaries and iron bombs on oil refineries, steelworks, docks, factories, an electrical powerplant and tank farms. The Japanese were caught completely off guard and had no chance to mount a true defense against these raiders who suddenly seemed to be everywhere, having come without warning from nowhere.
Once an aircraft had dropped its four bombs, it immediately descended back to treetop level to avoid ground fire and detection from above. While there happened to be enemy aircraft over Tokyo at the time and anti-aircraft fire was sometimes dense, every one of the B-25s escaped serious damage and made it safely to the China Sea. And as a bonus, they picked up a 25-mph tail wind.
At this point, however, the raiders' luck began to run out. As they approached the Chinese coast, the weather turned stormy. By nightfall, their tanks were running dry, they were on solid instruments and searching desperately for the homing beacons of their destination airfields. They had no way of knowing there were no beacons. Thanks to a combination of American caution, blunder and plain bad luck, the Chinese didn't know about the raid.
And so, after 13 hours aloft, out of fuel and with no safe way down, 11 of the pilots told their crews to abandon ship and hope for the best. Joe Manske, the engineer-gunner on the No. 5 aircraft, remembers that jump as "terrifying, the worst experience I've ever had in my life."
<#FROWN:E17\>
Do-it-Yourself Playhouse
Thrill your kids with this two-weekend project.
By Ken Collier
As the handyman in my family, I must confess that there are a lot of jobs I'm not crazy about: the drain that needs unclogging, the squeaky floor that I've struggled with for months, the perennial battle of the bulging gutters. You've probably got your own list. Satisfying though these jobs can be when you finish them, no one - not even the most hard-core among us - would call them fun.
But here's one that's different, a project that's pure delight - the icing on the handyman cake. The work is easy, and absolutely nothing beats the feeling you'll get from watching kids having a blast in the playhouse you've made.
I designed this playhouse with the busy parent (like me!) in mind, so it can be built as quickly as possible. Two beginners could put it together in a couple of weekends, including the painting, and an experienced do-it-yourselfer could build it alone in about the same time. It's a no-worry type of project, too, with few chances to screw up, and without much need for precision - a perfect project for beginning or seasoned do-it-yourselfers alike.
SKILLS (AND $$) YOU NEED TO BUILD IT
"No experience required" could be the motto for this playhouse. You need to be able to use a circular saw and a jigsaw to build it, but the cuts are simple enough (and the project forgiving enough) that even if you've never picked up one of those tools before, you could learn while you work. If you are just starting out, you could read 'Need Help Cutting Plywood?' (Feb. '90, p. 31) and 'Using Your Circular Saw Like a Pro' ('Using Tools,' June '89, p. 20).
Besides a jigsaw and a circular saw, you'll need an electric drill with a Phillips head bit for driving screws, a chalk line, level, carpenter's square (the big one that's about 2 ft. long) and a stepladder. A power sander is helpful but not essential.
This is a great opportunity to get kids involved in the building, too, especially during the assembly of the walls - the nails are small, accuracy isn't particularly important, and you're working flat on the ground. And what kid wouldn't want to help paint? Otherwise, if you have another adult to lend an occasional hand, you'll do fine working alone.
The materials for our playhouse cost $350. You may be able to knock about $50 off by using plywood with the grooves farther apart, but it won't look quite as realistic.
SAVE WORK BY CUTTING MANY PARTS AT THE SAME TIME
Get out your saw, don your safety glasses, and dive right in by cutting the parts of the playhouse to size (Photo 1). When you're cutting the treated lumber, wear a mask so you don't breathe in the dust. You can cut all the parts A through L now, but wait until later to cut M and the remaining pieces.
To save time and prevent mistakes, cut the lumber to length on top of sawhorses, where you can cut several pieces at once ('gang cutting,' carpenters call it). This is especially useful in cutting the floor boards (E). Mark the angled ends of part C with a protractor (even your child's school model is fine), or use an angle-cutting guide for your circular saw.
The plywood is easier to cut on the ground (Photo 1), using a piece or two of lumber to raise it up. Use a chalk line to mark the cutting lines. Cut straight, but don't worry if the edge isn't perfect; every cut edge will be hidden in the finished playhouse. You'll notice that the edges of the plywood aren't square; they have a little lip on them so one sheet fits into the adjacent one. For this project, don't worry about that joint; just cut the plywood as shown in Fig. A and everything will fit.
THERE'S NO FOUNDATION, BUT YOU DO NEED A LEVEL SITE
A playhouse doesn't have to last forever, so forget about concrete blocks, mortar and a complicated foundation - build your playhouse right on the ground.
You need a fairly level spot, about 6ft. on a side. Use one of your boards (like part D) and a level to check the slope, and dig and pack the soil to level it out. Your spot doesn't have to be perfect; it's easy to slip a few scraps of treated wood under the corners of the finished house to get it level (Photo 5).
ASSEMBLE THE FRONT AND BACK TO MAKE PREFAB PANELS
Now the fun begins - nailing parts together. The first step is to assemble the front and back walls, one at a time. Lay out on the ground the three 2x4s (A and B) that support the end wall. Place the plywood parts G and H on top of the 2x4s, and make sure that the edges of the plywood fit together. Then nail the plywood to the 2x4s, measuring in from the edge to find the location of part B, which is not centered (Photo 2). If you have trouble hitting part B with the nails, here's a tip: Snap a chalk line across the face of the plywood to mark where the middle of the 2x4 is, then nail on the line. When you're done nailing, screw part C on from the inside of the wall (Photo 3).
After you've completed one wall, lay out the other one carefully to avoid a very easy, and absolutely maddening mistake - making both walls the same. They need to be mirror images, a front and a back, rather than identical. So measure for part B from the left on one wall and the right on the other; otherwise the house won't go together right. I can't even count the number of times I've made this little blunder.
ATTACH THE SIDES TO MAKE A LITTLE THREE-SIDED BOX
Whistle for your helper or your Cub Scout assistants, because now's the time to raise up the front and back walls and connect them (Photo 4). Prop one wall up on your level spot and screw the floor joists on (D), making sure they're square to the wall. Then screw the other wall to the joists, then nail on the plywood for one side (parts J and K). Nail on part K on the other side, but leave off the larger piece of plywood (J) on that side, so you can get inside the house to work. (Remember, there's no door yet!)
This is a good time to put blocks or shims under the corners of the house to get it plumb and level (Photo 5), because it's only going to get heavier from now on.
A SOLID FLOOR TO TAKE THE TRAFFIC
The floor on this house is built sturdily, like a miniature deck. The first step is to attach the two small support blocks (N). If you have trouble with them splitting, use a smaller nail or drill pilot holes and screw them on.
Lay the full-length floor boards on top of the joists, then measure and cut the shorter ones that fit around the upright 2x4s of the walls. When all the floor boards fit well, nail them on (Photo 6).
A ROOF THAT'S MORE LIKE A BOAT
Now for the roof, and a weird roof it is - no shingles, no tar paper, and no rafters. It's actually built more like an upside-down boat, with ribs (part M) and a hull of thin plywood strips (L). But it works, it's fast, and it's perfect for a playhouse.
Begin by nailing on the 'ribs' (M). Hold the board in position, mark the board for length, cut it, and nail it in place (Photo 7). This is easiest to do with a helper, but if your helper's off playing, hold the other end of the board with the 'bent-nail' trick (see 'Working Alone,' Jan. '92, p. 62).
Now attach the lowest strip of plywood, lining it up so it overhangs part C by an inch, and nailing only at the ends. When you lay the next sheet on top of it, line up the upper edge of that sheet with a rib (M), and then nail through both pieces of plywood where they overlap. Be sure the nails go into a rib. Snapping a chalk line across the plywood will help you know where to nail.
The ends of the plywood pieces may not line up perfectly, but that's something you can fix. Just snap a chalk line and trim the pieces with your jigsaw. While you've got the ladder out, run some acrylic caulk into the joint where the plywood pieces meet at the very top (the 'ridge') of the roof, just to help keep the rain out.
THE DOOR AND WINDOWS ARE SIMPLY HOLES CUT IN THE WALLS
Take a step back now, get a cup of coffee, and admire your work for a few minutes. You don't want to rush into this next step - cutting the openings for doors and windows.
Start with the door. From the inside of the playhouse, drive a nail through the plywood at the corners of the door opening, flush with the floor and the 2x4 uprights. From the outside, wrap your chalk line around the protruding nails to mark where the door opening is to be cut. Pull the nails, drill a 1/4-in. hole at each nail hole, and saw out the door opening with your jigsaw and a fine-tooth blade (Photo 9). Clean up the edges with a rasp or sander.
Once the door is cut, nail on the last piece of plywood (J). Cutting the windows is easy; simply mark the openings in pencil on the outside, and cut them out. We made three windows: one in front and one on each side.
ADD SOME PIZAZZ: GINGERBREAD TRIM
Carpentry is like life - sometimes you need to follow a strict plan and sometimes you need to go with the flow. Adding trim to your playhouse is a time for the latter. Rather than slavishly following a cutting list, you'll get better results if you hold each piece of trim in place, mark it, and cut it to fit. If you miss the mark and cut a piece too short, either use it somewhere else (I always cut the longest pieces first whenever possible), or fill the gap later with caulk.
Start with the vertical 1x4 corner boards (P) on the sides of the house. Then do the front corner boards, then the horizontal boards and the vertical piece around the door (Photo 10). Build the little caps for the tops of the window opening, nailing part U onto part T, then cut the other window trim. With a jigsaw and drill, cut the decorative roof trim (V), give it a test fit, then sand it smooth.
Tack all the trim pieces in place with just a couple of nails and don't drive the nails all the way in, because you'll want to remove all the trim for painting. It sounds crazy, I know, but it's a heck of a lot easier than painting the trim once it's on the playhouse.
Don't worry if there isn't a 2x4 to nail into in some places; screw the trim on from the inside wherever necessary.
FINISHING TOUCHES: PAINTING
I know you're probably dying to start painting now, but try to hold your horses for a minute. You should round off, using a rasp and sandpaper, any sharp edges and corners that kids might hurt themselves on. Pay particular attention to the roof corners and the edges around the windows and doors. Furthermore, treated wood is often somewhat damp, so give it a few days of good drying weather before you paint.
Now you can paint (hooray!). Remove all the trim and paint it separately. Paint the roof before the sides, so you won't drip (or bump into) the wet paint. A roller with an extension handle will make those flat surfaces go quickly.
<#FROWN:E18\>
THE PRESS AND THE PENTAGON: OLD BATTLES, NEW SKIRMISHES
By Loren B. Thompson
IN THE AFTERMATH of the recent Middle East war, many journalists complained that government-imposed restrictions on their activities had prevented adequate coverage of the conflict. While this view appears to have little support within the government or among the public, it nonetheless renews a controversy that has persisted throughout most of U.S. history about the proper role of journalists in wartime. Historical antecedents help us understand the current debate and the absence of a perfect solution to the dilemma of war coverage. The Desert Storm experience demonstrates that friction between the military and the media in wartime is probably inevitable.
Early Antecedents
The Framers of our constitution probably gave little thought to how an unfettered press might operate in wartime. The experience of the American Revolution provided little basis for believing that if the press acted as an "expeditious messenger of intelligence" (to quote The Federalist No. 84), this could compromise important national objectives. News of the battles at Lexington and Concord in 1775 was not reported in the New York and Philadelphia papers until a week afterward, and some southern papers printed accounts more than a month later. The prevailing means of gathering and disseminating news largely precluded the transmission of information that could be of tactical use to British commanders.
By providing the press with expansive freedom in the Constitution, the Framers created a potential for the dilemma that would confront the republic in all its future conflicts. Because success in battle depends on deceiving and confusing an adversary, on throwing him off guard and achieving surprise, the military imperative to maintain secrecy and the journalistic imperative to convey truth will always be in tension.
The need to reconcile these contending goals did not become apparent until the Civil War. During the early nineteenth century, the advent of railroad and telegraph networks greatly accelerated the pace at which news could be transmitted. Meanwhile, the emergence of rival daily newspapers in most large cities fostered a competitive spirit that placed a premium on publishing the news as quickly as possible. As long as the nation was at peace, these developments posed no challenge to the preservation of democracy. Once the Civil War began in 1861, though, all that changed.
The North alone sent 500 journalists to cover the war, and they generated a constant flow of information about military engagements, troop movements, and the like. Some of this information was useful to the enemy. Robert E. Lee regularly read northern papers to gain insight into Union war plans. Generals Grant and Sherman were so upset by the propensity of reporters to disclose their plans that both considered resigning.
At the front, many journalists engaged in questionable practices. Sources were bribed. Accounts of battles were fabricated. News was slanted to curry favor with commanding generals or support papers' editorial preferences. A few generals, such as Halleck and Sherman, were so offended by the behavior of correspondents that they treated them as little better than spies. Other Union commanders, such as Grant, Rosecrans, and Sheridan, picked favorites whom they accorded preferential treatment. General McClellan openly cultivated reporters in the hope of advancing his presidential ambitions.
The Lincoln administration failed to establish consistent policies for war coverage. Some members of the administration favored draconian restrictions: Secretary of War Edwin M. Stanton, for example, banned reporters from the front, arrested editors, and closed papers for violating censorship rules. On one occasion, he even ordered that a reporter from the New York Tribune be shot for refusing to hand over a dispatch. (He wasn't.) But other members of the administration favored a more lenient approach, arguing that the support of the press was essential to the war effort. In the absence of a clear policy defining what could and could not be reported, journalists were never sure whether their dispatches would be transmitted over the federally controlled telegraph lines. Some military censors were quite lax in their interpretation of what constituted sensitive information, while others suppressed dispatches that contained even a hint of criticism of the course of battle.
Despite capricious censorship, suspicious commanders who tried to exclude journalists from the front, and the costs of reporting a multifront war, journalists showed great enterprise and courage in reporting the war. As a result, the volume of timely war coverage available to the average citizen was without precedent. The Civil War thus established a new standard for wartime journalism that would influence the reporting of all future conflicts.
The Twentieth Century
The issues concerning war coverage that came to the fore during the Civil War have reappeared in twentieth-century conflicts. What is the proper role of a journalist in wartime? What obligation does the government have to support that role? What limits should there be on the government's right to censor dispatches from the front? How should censorship be administered? What sanctions should be imposed on journalists who violate the rules? A quick review shows how these questions were answered differently at different times.
In the aftermath of the brief Spanish-American War (in which press/military relations were generally friendly), the United States faced a nationalist insurgency in the newly annexed Philippine Islands. The U.S. military imposed strict censorship on all dispatches and proceeded to wage a brutal counterinsurgency campaign. When reporters complained that censorship was being used to conceal the true nature of the campaign, the U.S. Army commander in the Philippines accused them of "conspiracy against the government" and threatened court-martial proceedings, arguing that critical reporting in the U.S. press was undercutting their efforts and hurting morale.
These exchanges led to a deterioration in relations between the military and the press that had an impact on how reporters were treated in 1917 when the United States entered World War I. Many soldiers who had been junior officers during the Filipino insurrection held senior commands, and they were determined that the press would not again be allowed to undermine a war effort. Heavy censorship was imposed on all correspondents accredited to the American Expeditionary Force in Europe, and the Army initially tried to limit the number of journalists to a mere 31 reporters. This restriction was gradually eroded by visits of hundreds of nonaccredited correspondents to the front, but no loosening of censorship occurred: military censors were so severe that they even deleted items from expense accounts. Unlike British and French journalists, though, U.S. correspondents at the front did not have to be accompanied by military escorts. As long as they submitted their dispatches for censorship, they were free to come and go as they wished and could even follow troops into combat.
Similar practices prevailed in World War II, but a significant change occurred in the attitude of both journalists and soldiers concerning war coverage. Confronted with a global struggle, the Roosevelt administration sought to enlist journalists in the war effort. The vast majority of journalists accepted this role, and as a result it was possible to carry out censorship on a voluntary basis. The need to win was so widely accepted that few of the 2,600 correspondents accredited by the Navy and War Departments to cover the conflict had any desire to circumvent review of their copy.
The vast scale of World War II was matched by the journalistic effort to cover it. Newspaper and wire reporters were joined at the front by representatives of radio, newsreels, and mass-circulation newsweeklies. The need to manage hordes of journalists in battle zones led to an important innovation: the media pool. By selecting a small number of reporters to represent all correspondents in a theater of operation, it was possible to cover major events such as the Normandy landings without impeding the campaign. Media pools facilitated war coverage, although they reduced the opportunities for individual scoops since pool reports were given to all accredited correspondents.
The sense of shared purpose that permeated military/media relations during World War II dissipated rapidly in the Korean War. U.S. involvement in this conflict was controversial, and there was much debate about how the war should be prosecuted. The U.S. commander in Korea, General Douglas MacArthur, initially employed a voluntary system of censorship such as that used in World War II, but after numerous disagreements between officers and journalists, both sides agreed that a more formal approach was needed. The system put in place resulted in two or three copy reviews at various command levels. Dispatches were often delayed or excessively censored. The resentments this engendered were exacerbated by a belief among military officers that negative reporting was hurting the war effort. Thus, even after censorship procedures were simplified, enmity between soldiers and journalists persisted.
The Korean conflict was a preview of what was to occur in Vietnam a generation later. Like Korea, Vietnam was a limited war that provoked much opposition at home. Unlike Korea, the enemy in Vietnam seldom revealed itself, battle lines were ill-defined, and most engagements occurred between small units in the jungle. This made the war difficult to prosecute and difficult to report. In the early years, the Kennedy administration sought to conceal the extent of U.S. involvement from the press and the public. President Johnson reversed this policy in the course of escalating the U.S. presence, attempting as Roosevelt had in World War II to enlist the media in the drive for victory. Despite skepticism about the war by some reporters in Vietnam, most media organizations supported the war, at least initially.
However, as the war dragged on, coverage became increasingly critical, culminating in a firestorm of negative reporting during the 1968 Tet Offensive. Although it was a major defeat for the Viet Cong, the Johnson administration's optimistic assessments before the offensive had led many observers to believe that the communists were incapable of mounting such an ambitious effort. The resulting 'credibility gap' drove Johnson from office and led to a virtual collapse in military/media relations.
In addition to the character of the war itself, coverage of Vietnam was different from that of previous conflicts in two important respects. One was the presence of television, which imparted an immediacy and realism to war reporting that had never been seen before. Analysts are divided as to what impact this had on the public, but many military officers believe to this day that graphic war footage on nightly newscasts severely undermined support for the war. A second distinctive feature was the unusual latitude journalists had in reporting the war. Under a system of voluntary restraint worked out by Barry Zorthian, the senior press officer at the U.S. mission in Saigon, reporters were free to roam the country unescorted and report whatever they saw as long as they did not disclose militarily sensitive information. As a method of preserving secrecy, the system worked very well, but it allowed correspondents to present extremely negative assessments of U.S. military performance, and many did.
The recriminations surrounding the U.S. defeat in Vietnam set the mood for subsequent military/media relations. This became evident during the 1983 invasion of Grenada, a relatively minor military operation that nonetheless provoked widespread complaints about interference with war coverage. Journalists attempting to reach the island were excluded until two days after the invasion had begun, and then only small groups under military escort were allowed in for three more days. Reporters already on the island were prevented from filing stories. The restrictions on coverage were not lifted fully until after fighting had ceased. Pentagon officials claimed these steps were necessary to ensure the success of the operation and to protect the lives of both soldiers and reporters, but some journalists alleged the restrictions were also used to conceal deficiencies in military performance.
In the wake of Grenada, the Defense Department convened a panel headed by Major General Winant Sidle to consider how military/media relations could be better conducted in future conflicts. The panel recommended that public affairs preparations should be included in the planning for future military operations and should stress the principle of voluntary compliance with security guidelines.<FROWN:E19\>
Pretty and Practical
Porches
BY SANDRA S. SORIA
Sure, a couple of rusty lawn chairs and a cement slab will do- but why not turn your warm-weather sitting spot into an especially beckoning retreat. To do it, simply take comfort cues from the inside of your home. This potpourri of porches will show you how.
By swapping a bank of storm windows for a checkerboard of glass, the Fleischmans turned their underused porch near Boston into a three-season temptation. As a bonus return on the investment, the porch looks as good from the street as it does from the wicker. For porch appeal:
Do a background check. Don't need a wall of glass? Consider small decorating strokes that make a big impact. Here, glossy white paint showcases aged pieces. The Fleischmans used durable deck paint on the floor, then personalized it with stenciled blooms.
Furnish with flair. Not just for has-been furniture, this porch is stocked with a fine bureau, hooked rug, napping sofa, and paint-revived wicker - all the comforts of inside the home.
Once their back stoop started to crumble, this Boston-area family decided the time was right to expand the off-the-kitchen steps into a nostalgic time-out spot. A 12x15-foot lineup of planks lays the platform for easy living, while the classic balustrade adds architechtural punch. To power up your patio:
Do the white thing. Again, white paint sets a sparkling stage that show-cases the open-air players, from great greenery to star seating.
Pump up some iron. As sophisticated as a tuxedo, a new coat of black paint and pinstriped cushioning prepares 30-year-old garden furniture for another round of gaiety. Don't have old pieces to recycle? Consider investing in never-say-die classic iron.
Shelly and Janet Rosenberg wanted to relax in a porchlike setting year-round, so they enclosed a bit of their New Jersey backyard with an inviting greenhouse addition. Light-filtering solar shades create a crisp canopy that can roll up to reveal the sky. To give any light-filled space relaxing porch appeal:
Stay neutral. Calming hues don't upstage the outdoors; they let the eye glide by. Invite in the view with shades or blinds that are there when you need them, vanish when you don't.
Rely on natural beauty. Wicker instantly evokes a casual, outdoor mood. Fill in with sun-baked accents: a worn rug, an airy birdhouse, and, of course, fresh fruit and flowers.
When a shingled addition turned the back of their St. Louis home into an L, the Engelbreits found an ideal niche for an old-fashioned galley porch. The 20x12-foot getaway is only steps away from the kitchen, making it an ever-beckoning spot for alfresco dining or after-work relaxing. To give a new porch vintage flair:
Cozy with color. Deep, rich colors, such as this dark green wood floor and black wicker, foster intimacy. Brights and whites leaven the deep hues.
Toss it on; mix it up. Set off against the black-painted wicker, a bright fabric medley gives the sense that this porch has evolved over time. Common colors link the varied fabrics.
Look back. Simple pleasures - a swinging hammock and vintage birdhouse - instantly evoke times gone by.
OUTDOOR LIVING Family Style
"Our backyard is an extension of our house. We eat, play, and work here. It's a family garden."
Grown-up pleasures and childhood delights blend harmoniously in Nancy and Doug Abbey's spacious San Francisco backyard. Granting warm-weather wishes of every member of the family, their yard sets a dramatic summertime stage for hours of wholesome gardening, fun, and relaxation.
The stylish living that Nancy and Doug enjoy indoors doesn't stop at their back door, even though they share their yard with a couple of young adventurers, 2-year-old Katherine and her 4-year-old brother, Robert. Luxurious landscaping for them, however, requires a design that's "both pretty and practical," says Nancy.
To keep the dogs from running through the rose beds and the kids from tossing balls into the hors d'oeuvres, the Abbeys' backyard is divided into special sections: a lawn for croquet and tumbling, a brick patio for entertaining, a formal vegetable garden, and a play area. Separated by perennial borders to discourage shortcutting, these areas are defined by grade changes in the sloping property.
The slope initially posed the most vexing challenge. "All we had was a scrubby lawn and a sloping bank," says Nancy. "The elm tree obstructed the view from the house and shaded everything."
Wanting to preserve some, but not all, of their shade, the Abbeys saved the elm, but pruned it so that the tree now acts as a lacy canopy above the patio and lets sunshine into the yard in the winter. "I envision a tree house in it one of these days," says Nancy.
Opening up the back of their yard to sunlight allows the family to grow vegetables. The garden is a fun learning ground for Katherine and Robert, but the play area is their favorite place to spend afternoons. Complete with a playhouse and sandbox, the play area is close enough to the patio for supervision, yet far enough away so that the children feel as if they're in their own little world.
Whether they're chasing butterflies or plucking blooms, sitting in the shade or gliding down the slide, all in the Abbey family now have their own private outdoor world to retreat to.
SQUEEZING A SPA INTO A TINY YARD
A side-yard terrace, featuring a deck, spa, privacy screen, and storage area gives this Portland, Oregon, home a much-needed focal point for outdoor living. Because their backyard abuts a busy street, the owners located their family retreat in a narrow, but quieter, space between the drive-way and the side entry of their house.
Before the remodeling, the side yard was exposed to neighbors. "This tiny yard had a lot of problems," says landscape architect John Herbst. "We needed to design a private space that was shielded from street noise where the owners could entertain friends and have room left over to store all their outdoor equipment."
A new storage shed, built to conceal the driveway from the house, forms one wall of the new courtyard. Privacy screening, with glass inserts at one corner, closes the gap between the shed and the house, offering views of the yard.
A jog in the screen creates a small alcove for the spa, which is sunken into a raised deck and connected to the house with a narrow boardwalk. "When we designed this backyard, we had to employ as many space-saving ideas as possible," says John. "For example, we built a deep ledge on the back side of the spa so the spa cover could be stored out of the way when the spa was in use."
Framed with brick pavers for colorful accents, exposed aggregate squares form a durable and attractive patio surface. "We didn't want a boring, all-aggregate patio, so we added a geometric pattern of brick pavers for color and interest," says John.
Old-fashioned Comforts
By Jane Austin McKeon
In the good old summertime, Marilyn Cornell enjoys the simple luxuries of her San Diego backyard. Marylin's old-fashioned oasis suits her vintage house and offers open-air pleasures that are both affordable and fun.
Timeworn was the best word to describe the home Marylin purchased several years ago. She renovated the 100-year-old house, then began sprucing up the long-neglected 50x50-foot back-yard. "The weeds were waist-high," she recalls. A chain-link fence and a small concrete stoop off the back door were the only outdoor 'improvements' the previous owners had made.
To preserve the architectural integrity of the house, Marilyn hired a professional landscape designer to suggest some appropriate changes for her yard. Her one stipulation: New structures must blend with the old. "Rather than add a conventional deck" says Marilyn, "I decided an old-fashioned veranda would blend better with the style of the house."
A curving brick patio carries the porch's traditional appeal into the yard. "To offset the squared-off angles of the veranda, I wanted the rest of the yard to flow," says Marilyn. The slightly sunken terrace takes advantage of a natural dip in the property, dramatized by low brick walls that double as seating for large backyard gatherings.
Sweeping flower borders, left open for Marilyn to plant as she pleases, outline the walkway to the patio. "None of the beds contains permanent plantings," she says, "because I have to adapt to changing local restrictions on watering."
Summer is filled with the enduring and endearing heirloom blooms of cosmos, petunia, salvia, lavender, lobelia, chrysanthemum, marigold, rose, and shasta daisy. "I prefer the dependable, old-time varieties so I can have cut flowers year-round," says Marilyn.
A natural offshoot of her love for gardening is the trellised potting area, built at one end of the renovated carriage house. The original structure, enhanced by fresh paint and bougainvillea vines, now stands as a focal point of the backyard.
The pastel pinks and purples that predominate in Marilyn's garden reappear as color themes throughout her outdoor decorating. Painted furniture and cheerful cushions add simple, yet elegant, finishing touches. "I live in my backyard on weekends," says Marilyn. "I know of no better place than my own veranda to sit and watch a sunset."
A Splash Of The Southwest
A sunbathed southwestern-style courtyard offers Leslie Ayers the laid-back lifestyle she enjoys. Not even the subdued traffic sounds from the other side of the wall can disturb the peace she's created in back of her St. Louis rowhouse.
An 8-foot-high privacy wall running along the length of Leslie's narrow 75x30-foot property inspired the design of her courtyard. "I wanted a soft, contemporary look with a southwestern feeling," she says. "But I also wanted to maintain the character of the old house."
Leslie saved the wall, preserving some of the traditional styling of her turn-of-the-century neighborhood, but she added a few flourishes of her own. "I kept the original brick facade on the street side and the brick trim on top," she says. For the inside, however, she chose stucco and repeated it in the new wall, built on the opposite side of the yard.
The garage at the back of the lot also sports a stucco facelift. Embellishments, such as shutters and a trellis, give the structure the look of a guest-house. "I enjoy making things look like something different from what they are," says Leslie.
A long, narrow swimming pool eats up a good portion (about 12x25 feet) of the pocket-size property, yet fits beautifully as a part of the yard's new design. "I think most swimming pools are boring," says Leslie. "To make this pool go with the court-yard feeling, I painted the bottom black so it blends in like a natural pond."
Interlocking concrete pavers surround the pool. "Having lived and worked in Florida and California, I grew to love the Mexican tile used in so many of the homes there," says Leslie. The clay tone of the pavers is "wonderful because it looks cool in the summertime and warm in the winter."
Designed to look casual, not perfectly manicured, plantings are chosen for their year-round interest and ease of care. As a result, the landscaping is very manageable. "I just weed the beds now and then," Leslie says.
Leslie's laid-back philosophy about her back-yard allows her to spend what limited leisure time she has entertaining in it. Gathering friends together for summer cookouts is one of her favorite pleasures, especially now that her courtyard contributes a southwestern flavor.
The Romance of a Log Home
BY TOM JACKSON
Forest fresh and built to last, this hand-hewn American tradition can put you back in touch with nature and satisfy your deepest yearning for peace and quiet. Join us for a walk in the woods and discover why this American classic never did - and never will - go out of style.
Here is a home worth listening to. Inside it's breathtakingly quiet. The massive log walls not only shrug off rain, hail, sleet, and snow, but they muffle almost any sound. Tranquility surrounds you the moment you walk through the door.
<#FROWN:E20\>
CHAPTER ONE
The technique
The woodworking technique used to make all of the projects explained in this book has many advantages. Not only are the time and equipment requirements minimal in comparison to traditional methods of furniture building, but large table saws and band saws are not used, so very little floor space is necessary.
What You Don't Have to Do
You don't have to have years of woodworking experience to complete a quality piece of furniture using this method. One easy-to-master technique is used for all the projects in the book, large and small. Advanced woodworking techniques, such as making French dovetail joints or compound cuts, are not required either.
You also don't have to interpret measured drawings filled with confusing dimension lines and hidden lines. The plans provided are straightforward, and chapter 2 gives you detailed instructions on how to enlarge them from the book's page.
After enlarging the pattern to full size, you merely trace around the shapes to transfer the design to the wood. With the smaller projects, you will start 'shaping' the wood almost immediately, as these projects do not involve stepped laminations. Even with the other furniture projects, though, very little measuring is necessary. You will need to make a mortise-and-tenon joint for the rockers, but all that involves is cutting four mortises (slots) and four tenons (tongues). Most of the joint is 'hidden,' so a large tolerance is incorporated into the design.
You don't have to be an artist to sculpt the contours for the projects. There is, however, a degree of 'eye work' required when removing wood to create a natural flow of grain line and tapers. With traditional forms of woodworking, the machinery or cutter controls the amount of wood removed from the stock material. During the shaping stages for the projects in this book, the amount of wood removed is controlled by you, the woodworker. Consequently, no two pieces are exactly alike.
This technique is a combination of woodworking and sculpture, but don't let that intimidate you if you can't draw - I can't, either. Rounding and tapering the various sections is actually easy and fun. You start with an original block of material that can be very boring to look at - much like working with clay. When you see the globs of glue and stepped laminations of wood before shaping, you will find it hard to believe they could ever be transformed into a beautiful rocker, lamp, or table. Once the project is completed, however, you'll find it even harder to believe how easy it was to create a unique piece.
Designing new projects is easy because you can make any piece of furniture using this technique. Matching sets of three pieces or a whole roomful are possible. I've often thought it would be fun to customize the interior of a van with this style of woodworking. It also would be easy to transfer the techniques learned for constructing wall panels, shelving, closets, and cabinets.
Where to Work
I made my first rocker while living in a small apartment. I did the gluing and finishing work on a tiny kitchen floor, and the dusty work with portable electric tools outside of the apartment. An extension cord, which ran through my bedroom window, was my source of power.
Any location with a 120-volt outlet and a small area to keep materials dry and warm is sufficient for the construction of even the largest project (the adult rocking chair). You can use a small, portable generator if permanent electrical service is not available, but be sure to use some type of Ground Fault Circuit Interrupter (GFCI) with your power tools, especially if they will be used near water or outside. Some types of GFCIs are installed merely by plugging them into the existing outlet, and they are not very expensive. However, always consult a certified electrician before installing any electrical safety devices and for a general safety check of the existing service.
Tools
All the projects are made with portable electric tools and hand tools. You only need a few for each project, and these are listed in the tools and materials lists for each chapter.
A variety of power tools are used to cut, shape, and sand, and many of these are pictured in the following photo.
Generally, the more you spend on any one tool, the faster you will be able to complete your project and the longer that tool will last, but don't worry if you don't have an extensive selection of power tools. Quality projects are possible using very inexpensive tools.
As a struggling student working on my first rocker, I purchased the least expensive tools to get the job done. For cutting, I used a light-duty saber saw. I could not afford clamps, so for gluing during the lamination and assembly operations, I used piled cinder blocks for the needed pressure. I also used common-purpose rope, twisted very tight with a stick, to apply pressure. I was able to shape around the tight curves with a 14-inch half-round wood rasp, a woodworking file, and some old-fashioned 'elbow grease.'
Renting all the tools you will need is something to consider if you plan to make a limited amount of projects. One weekend I rented a heavy-duty right-angle grinder to shape the larger surfaces. I used a 7-inch rubber backing pad with a #16 hard-backed sanding disk with a grinder. It was well worth the $20 for the time I saved.
For sanding, I purchased an inexpensive orbital sander and an electrical hand drill to use with sanding drums of various sizes. I also used a soft disc pad with adhesive-backed sanding discs.
As I began to make furniture to sell, I upgraded my equipment and woodworking techniques. For cutting I switched to a better-quality saber saw and to using a router in conjunction with a Masonite template. The router is equipped with a 1/4-inch carbide straight cutter and a template guide. Shaping is much faster now with the use of a lightweight high-speed right-angle minigrinder, equipped with a 4 1/2-inch rubber backing pad and an aluminum-oxide-fiber sanding disc. For shaping the tight areas, I use a die grinder equipped with a 1/2-inch rotary rasp. For sanding curved areas, I use a pneumatic sander connected to a hand drill.
For cutting the wood there are a few alternatives. Tools I have used are routers, saber saws, and lightweight, benchtop band saws. The portable band saws are very handy for cutting the small projects and small sections of the furniture. The router or saber saw is used in the early stages of operation. Both tools are comparable in terms of cutting speed, but a top-of-the-line saber saw will cut faster than an inexpensive router, and vice versa.
Use Table 1-1 as a quick reference for the power tool options. Making sturdy and functional furniture without a huge initial investment in tools is one of the advantages of this type of woodworking.
Materials
A wide variety of materials are suitable and fun to work with. For the smaller projects, such as the lamps or model boats, you can use any of your favorite woods. I usually use butternut, cherry, walnut and pine for these projects. I like the natural color of these woods, and they are easily shaped with an electric grinder.
For the furniture, plywood is the best type of wood to use. Indian birch plywood or even construction-grade plywood will work, but I recommend solid-core plywood, 5/8-inch thick, with 12 layers of hardwood. The many layers add strength, and they look like a natural grain pattern in the finished piece. This type of plywood is commonly used for concrete forms in the construction industry, Formica desktops, and sports equipment.
In addition to the strength in this plywood, any voids in it are filled with wooden boat patches during manufacturing. This permits you to sculpt without exposing large holes or loose knots.
All of the matching furniture pictured in this book is made with birch plywood, which is imported from the Baltic region and sold under different trade names. I have used plywood made of alternating layers of birch and fir, which was easy to sculpt. However, plywood made with all birch is easier to finish and more durable, and a natural, more consistent color is easier to achieve. This type of plywood is readily available and less expensive in the large port areas, but you should be able to purchase it through your local lumberyard.
I've purchased plywood from large wholesalers in Massachusetts, Pennsylvania, and New York. The sheet sizes I've always used are 4 by 5 or 5 by 5 feet. (It doesn't matter which direction the grain is running.) I have had no problem buying small quantities of plywood from the large wholesale distributors, and some even offer a credit plan. The yellow pages of your phone book will help you locate lumberyards in your area that carry or can order the lumber you need for your project.
Enlarging the Plans
The plans, which are found with each project, can be enlarged in several ways. For the smaller projects, you can use a photocopier that has enlarging capabilities. Another method, which works well with the larger plans, is to use a transparency of the plans on an overhead projector to project an enlarged view directly onto the template material. The third alternative is to enlarge the plans with grid paper.
This method requires patience, but you can achieve an accurate set of patterns using it. I used this method to reduce my adult-size rocking chair plans down to the dimensions for the child's rocker. Most art supply stores sell large sheets of grid paper with 1-inch squares, but it is also easy to draw your own.
The following sequence shows how to make a grid pattern to enlarge the plans for the child's rocker. Use the same procedure for all the plans (one square =1 inch in all the patterns).
Step 1.
Use a ruler and a pencil to measure and mark dots 1 inch apart along the four edges of a 24-x-24-inch piece of paper. The dots must be congruent so the vertical and horizontal lines you draw in the next step are perpendicular.
Step 2.
Use a straightedge to connect the dots to create a grid pattern with 1-inch squares. The corners of each square must be 90 degrees.
Step 3.
Draw in only one square at a time. Copy the shapes from the book. Use the sides and corners of each square as a guide.
Step 4.
Continue one square at a time until entire drawing is complete.
Step 5.
Use scissors to cut out the pattern so you can make the project or a template. Trace around the pattern on the recommended types of material. Use a saber saw to cut out the project or the Masonite template.
Making a Styrofoam Model
You can use 3/4-inch styrofoam to make a model of the projects offered in this book or to create original shapes for projects. Here I am making a styrofoam model of the floor lamp project.
Step 1.
Trace around the template or pattern with a felt marker on the styrofoam.
Step 2.
Cut out the styrofoam sections with a saber saw.
Step 3.
Hold the various sections of styrofoam together with toothpicks or small amounts of epoxy, then shape with a right-angle grinder.
Step 4.
Take the model apart and use the various styrofoam sections as a guide to determine the actual size and shape of each plywood lamination of the project.
Cutting Using a Template
When cutting with the router, you will use a 1/4-inch-thick Masonite template of the exact shape of the project. With the aid of an inexpensive template guide, the router follows the edge of the Masonite template to cut out the various sections. Masonite tempered on one side, which most lumberyards stock in 4-x-8-foot sheets, is the material I recommend for templates. Your router base will slide easily, and this material is easily repaired with epoxy if you accidentally damage the surfaces with the router cutter.
<#FROWN:E21\>
Even though fish are uppermost in their minds, residents gladly share island secrets with those who have the savvy to visit between Labor Day and Columbus Day, when the weather's mild and the water's warm (you can usually swim until the end of September). Shops and restaurants remain open despite the decreased crowds. The only disadvantage to an autumn visit is that many historic houses are shuttered.
Most trips to the Vineyard start at the island's eastern end, where the three main towns are located. In the southeastern corner is blue-blooded Edgartown, with a yacht-filled harbor; sea captains' houses, handsome behind rose-tangled fences; and shops, restaurants and inns. On a warm October night, nothing is more peaceful than sitting on the Charlotte Inn's veranda watching a full moon snagged in the branches of an elm and listening to the sounds of the off-season: a trickling fountain, a chorus of crickets and the infrequent hum of tires on darkened streets.
Nearby, across a channel (navigated by a four-car ferry), lies Chappaquiddick, an island or a peninsula, depending on the vagaries of barrier beaches. Much of its shoreline is protected in wildlife refuges, the lonely haunts of seabirds.
Oak Bluffs, northwest of Edgartown, is home to the Camp Meeting Grounds, one of the country's most distinctive neighborhoods. Methodists founded the town in the 1830s as a religious getaway. Members who wanted to stay after the meetings built small cottages, attempting to outdo one another in design, until every cottage was turreted, gabled and draped with scrollwork. The effect is a Hansel and Gretel village, without cars or other modern intrusions.
Vineyard Haven (officially called Tisbury), across an inlet from Oak Bluffs, is an active port circled by boatyards and other maritime enterprises. Away from the harbor area, the town gathers interest with well-preserved 19th-century clapboard houses (especially along William Street), restaurants and stores on Main Street and noble trees throughout.
My favorite part of the Vineyard, though, is up-island, as the western two thirds of Martha's realm is known. Here, the sea gives way to a landscape of rolling hills, oak and pine woods, farms, and fields where horses graze beyond stone walls.
It's peaceful to cycle or drive along lightly traveled up-island byways. On North Road in Chilmark, oaks canopy the highway as you pass large estates. Even getting lost on these back roads has its compensations. Searching for the Long Point Wildlife Refuge in West Tisbury, I took the wrong dirt road and dead-ended beside Long Cove just in time to see a great blue heron flap past. When I finally found the refuge, I had it to myself. On foot, I followed a boardwalk through the dunes to a beach of pure white sand and lay there under a cloudless October sky, contemplating the rolling surf and the glittering sea.
An up-island visit usually culminates in the Gay Head Cliffs, a mile-long multicolored clay rampart. Summer's carnival atmosphere is replaced in autumn by a windswept solitude. You can wander by the lighthouse atop grassy headlands, or along the beach at the base of the cliffs. In the distance, behind the rounded humps of the Elizabeth Islands, lies the rest of America. Maybe it's just the autumn light, but the mainland looks far, far away.
COAST TO COAST
Martha's Vineyard is 260 miles northeast of New York and 75 miles south of Boston. To get there, you can fly from New York or Boston, or take a ferry from one of several points on the Massachusetts coast. The Steamship Authority (telephone 508-540-2022) has year-round service from Woods Hole on Cape Cod ($9 round-trip for adults and $72 for their cars). The passenger ferry Island Queen (508-548-4800; $9) runs out of Falmouth through mid-October. Ferries also leave from Hyannis (508-778-2600; $21) and New Bedford (508-997-1688; $17). If you want to rent a car on the island, you'll find agencies at the airport and near the ferry landings in Oak Bluffs and Vineyard Haven.
For more information, contact the Martha's Vineyard Chamber of Commerce (Beach Rd., Vineyard Haven, MA 02568; 508-693-0085).
MARTHA AU NATUREL
In the off-season, chances are excellent that you'll be communing with nature all on your own at the more than 50 conservation areas open to the public. Hurricane Bob, the big blow of August 1991, trashed some properties, most notably the Mytoi Japanese gardens on Chappaquiddick and the Cedar Tree Neck Wildlife Sanctuary in West Tisbury. In other protected areas, toppled trees and trunks broken off like celery stalks bear witness to the power of wind. The Martha's Vineyard Land Bank Commission map locating conservation properties is available at the Dukes County Historical Society (see below).
The most popular refuge is the Felix Neck Wildlife Sanctuary (Edgartown-Vineyard Haven Rd.; 627-4850), 350 acres of woodland and wetland on a spit of land jutting into Sengekontacket Pond. There are extensive interpretive facilities, including wildlife exhibits and aquariums at the headquarters, with naturalists on hand to answer questions. Four trails wind through the sanctuary, which is frequented by owls, ospreys and other waterfowl.
Most of the Vineyard's renowned beaches are open only to town residents. Hotel guests, however, get local beach privileges. In addition, there are plenty of superb public sands.
The warm, calm waters facing Nantucket Sound make three-mile-long Joseph Sylvia State Beach, between Edgartown and Oak Bluffs, popular for families with young children. Two to three-foot swells breaking close to shore attract body surfers to Katama Beach, south of Edgartown, but the undertow can be dangerous. Land Bank Long Beach and Moshup Beach are set spectacularly at the base of the Gay Head Cliffs.
Cycling is a popular way of getting around the island, especially the relatively flat eastern section. Bicycle paths parallel roads between Vineyard Haven, Oak Bluffs and Edgartown (my favorite stretch is along Sengekontacket Pond, lined with wild roses). Mopeds are also available, but avoid those noisy bikes if you don't want to offend half the residents.
It's surprising how much farmland the island's conservation groups have preserved, given the constant threat of overdevelopment. At historic Katama Farm (Katama Road; 627-9272), now owned by Edgartown's conservation trust, you can watch cows being milked at 5 A.M. and 5 P.M. and take free wagon rides on Sunday. Martha's Vineyard Riding Center (off Edgartown-West Tisbury Rd., West Tisbury; 693-3770) offers horseback rides through woodlands around Watcha Pond and along Katama Beach. You can also book trail rides at Misty Meadows Farm (Old Country Rd., West Tisbury; 693-1870) and Iron Hill Stables (Edgartown-Vineyard Haven Rd., Edgartown; 693-0786).
The Vineyard has some of the finest saltwater fishing in the country. Surf casters haul in bluefish, bonitos and false albacore, while trolling fishermen land swordfish, tuna and white marlins. Charters leave from Oak Bluffs and Edgartown. For a $30 entry fee, you can chase prizes totaling $100,000 in the Striped Bass & Bluefish Derby (September 9 - October 10; 627-8342).
A dozen outfits schedule cruises from Vineyard Haven - home port to more wooden sailboats than anywhere else in the Northeast - and other Vineyard towns. For a memorable outing, board the Shenandoah (693-1699), a 108-foot square-rigged topsail schooner.
PAINTED PONIES
'Life's a Beach,' the T-shirts say. But the Vineyard, with its intriguing history and active cultural life, has a number of diversions that don't require sun block.
My favorite exhibit at the Dukes County Historical Society (Cooke St., Edgartown; 627-4441) is a row of stoppered bottles containing 'deodorized viscous sperm oil' and other grades of the maritime petroleum that made New England the 19th-century equivalent of Saudi Arabia. Scrimshawed sperm whale teeth the size of daggers are also impressive.
The Vineyard Playhouse (10 Church St., Vineyard Haven; 693-6450) runs its season through September 5. This fall the Vineyard's only professional troupe of actors will present off-season shows on the main stage of its theater (a converted 1833 Methodist church) and downstairs at the smaller Cabaret Theater.
The painted ponies go round and round to wheezing calliope music, as they've done for more than a century, at the Flying Horses Carousel (Circuit Ave., Oak Bluffs; 693-9481). This indoor merry-go-round, an 1876 Coney Island model moved here in 1884, may be America's oldest (one in Watch Hill, Rhode Island, also claims the title).
The Vineyard was so named because English explorer John Brereton extolled the island's "incredible stores of vines" in 1602. (His partner, Bartholomew Gosnold, added Martha to the name in honor of his daughter.) Chicama Vineyards (Stoney Hill Rd., off State Rd., West Tisbury; 693-0309) sustains this legacy by producing Chardonnay, white Zinfandel, Cape Cod white and other wines from vinifera grapes. The harvest usually lasts from mid-September to mid-October, so if you visit Chicama then, chances are you'll see the winery in full operation. Tours and tastings are conducted 11-5 Monday to Saturday, 1-5 Sunday.
ISLAND FINDS
When it comes to shopping, Martha's Vineyard isn't exactly Hong Kong. But if you know where to look you'll find some unusual items - sometimes at off-season prices - tucked in amid the T-shirts that say 'I Survived Hurricane Bob.'
Whalers spent most of their shipboard leisure time engraving whalebone and whale teeth with intricate designs. Tom DeMont, a scrimshander, sells contemporary examples of this American folk art at Edgartown Scrimshaw (Upper Main St.; 627-9439). All items are made from legally obtained ivory. Sperm whale teeth decorated with nautical scenes cost $2,000; bookmarks made from old piano keys, $20.
Even if you don't feel an overwhelming urge to decorate your mantel with a brass binnacle ($685) or spy on your neighbors with a sea captain's telescope ($425), it's still fun to browse through the nautical-minded Edgartown Art Gallery (S. Summer St.; 627-5991) in the Charlotte Inn.
Two Edgartown shops share a shingled house built in 1703. A Gift of Love (N. Water St.; 627-5922) specializes in housewares and furnishings. The adjacent Island Made cooperative displays local arts and crafts, including the twill-weave market baskets ($91) of Susan Shea and the wildly colorful ceramics ($400 for a nine-inch vase) of Washington Ledesma.
The Bunch of Grapes Bookstore (68 Main St., Vineyard Haven; 693-2291), which has a wonderful wooden sign hanging above its door, stocks the island's most extensive collection of local and regional titles. Crispin's Landing (corner of Main and Union, Vineyard Haven) is a building shared by a number of craft shops; look for islander Joan LeLacheur's wampum bracelets ($150-$300) at Sioux Eagle Designs (693-6537).
Janet Messineo of Island Taxidermy & Wildlife Art Studio (the name makes a great acronym for a taxidermist) is one of the few people in the East who does skin mounts of saltwater fish. You can bring in your own catch if it's less than 100 pounds ($12 an inch) or buy a ready-mounted fish ($100 and up). Messineo also makes minnow accessories with rhinestone eyes ($18-$25). The studio is in Vineyard Haven; call 693-3360 for an appointment.
A TASTE OF THE VINEYARD
It may be the Vineyard, but don't expect to buy vino, or any other alcohol, on most of the island. Oak Bluffs and Edgartown are wet; the other towns are dry, although restaurants there allow you to BYOB:
The top breakfast spot is the Black Dog Tavern (Beach St. Extension; 693-9223; $10 for two), a shingled wharfside tavern in Vineyard Haven. Get a table overlooking the harbor and be sure to try some pastries form the Black Dog's own bakery.
Edgartown's best lunch spot, the unpretentious Savoir Fare (14 Church St.; 627-9864; $25 without drinks), looks summery even in fall, thanks to white furniture, light-blue tablecloths and big picture windows. The delicious special I tried consisted of cold seared tuna, green beans, potato slices, onion, olives and tomato, sprinkled with vinaigrette and chives.
For fish-and-chips, fried clams and chowder, visit the Wharf Pub (Lower Main St., Edgartown; 627-9967; $25), a lively hangout with a pressed-tin ceiling and dark wood paneling. To start, have an appetizer of Sword Bites (chunks of deep-fried swordfish).
Edgartown has several elegant restaurants. L'Etoile (S. Summer St.; 627-5187; $52 prix fixe per person), the Charlotte Inn's dining room, has a soothing conservatory setting; its mullioned windows reflect and multiply the light of antique lamps.<FROWN:E22\>
Robert Shaw
Musician of the Year 1992
By Scott Cantrell
To anyone who's seen Robert Shaw in front of a chorus, it will come as no surprise that the man alternately browbeating and cajoling his charges started out as a preacher. That was nearly 60 years ago, and Shaw has long since given up any such career goal. But his single-minded dedication to making the world a better place hasn't changed one whit.
Nor has his preacher's gift for spell-binding an audience. Violinist William Preucil, who during several seasons as concertmaster of the Atlanta Symphony Orchestra worked closely with Shaw, describes him as "a teacher and inspirational speaker. To hear him speak about music - about anything - is hypnotizing and mystifying and moving. I could sit and listen to him talk all day."
You might say that Shaw stayed in the sanctuary, but his medium of choice became neither sermon nor sacrament but choral singing. And if there's any one man responsible for professionalizing the life of the choral director, it's Robert Shaw. The Collegiate Chorale, which he founded in 1941 and conducted for 13 years, was widely recognized as setting a new standard in American choral performances, and it brought Shaw to the admiring attentions of Arturo Toscanini, George Szell, Serge Koussevitzky, and William Schuman. Still more standards were set by the Robert Shaw Chorale, a professional chamber choir that toured and recorded extensively from 1948 until 1967.
But Shaw proved to be much more than 'just' a choral conductor. After guest gigs with Toscanini's NBC Symphony Orchestra and Koussevitzky's Boston Symphony Orchestra, he went on to become one of Szell's assistant conductors with the Cleveland Orchestra.
Then, in 1967, he astonished plenty of podium-watchers by becoming music director of the Atlanta Symphony, then a part-time outfit of barely 60 players. By the end of his 21-year tenure it was no secret that Shaw's orchestra was well into the major leagues, and by common consent his Atlanta Symphony Orchestra Chorus was second to none.
That Shaw, now 75 and going strong, should be named Musical America's Musician of the Year should raise nary an eyebrow. Neither was it a surprise that Washington's John F. Kennedy Center for the Performing Arts named Shaw one of seven 1991 recipients of its Kennedy Center Honors. As early as 1943, he was cited by the National Association of Composers and Conductors as "America's greatest choral conductor." Shaw proves that a prophet needn't be without honor in his own land.
Nor is he a prophet to rest on his own laurels. Although he gave up the Atlanta Symphony's music directorship in 1988, he remains the orchestra's director of choral activities; as much director emeritus, he still conducts four weeks of concerts each season, and he will continue to record with the orchestra and chorus. He's also immersed in a new summer course for choral conductors in France, and he maintains a busy schedule of guest-conducting dates, not to mention courses and Master Classes for singers and choral conductors. So much for Shaw's 'retirement.'
Shaw's messianic zeal - and his gift for making better folk of his charges - came naturally. Born April 30, 1916, in Red Bluff, California, he was the son and grandson of preachers. Entering Pomona College in 1934, he studied English literature, philosophy, and religion; he figured he'd end up teaching philosophy or religion in a university. But he also got involved in the college's glee club, and when the director took a year-long leave of absence, Shaw was tapped to fill in.
It was during that year, in the spring of 1937, that the Pomona College campus was used for the filming of the motion picture Varsity Show. Appearing in the film were Fred Waring and The Pennsylvanians, a chorus well known for its radio broadcasts. While on campus Waring heard the glee club, and he was sufficiently impressed to offer its young director a job.
By now, Shaw was thinking of becoming a minister, and declined. A year later - being short of money and having second thoughts about the ministry - he wrote to Waring and asked to observe his work. Waring replied by inviting Shaw to come to New York and form a new glee club for a series of radio broadcasts. Suddenly, at age 22, virtually untrained in music, Shaw was working in New York as a professional choral conductor.
Shaw picked up a wide range of professional experience during his years with Waring, in radio, films, and theater. But he yearned to work with more serious literature, so in the fall of 1941, in collaboration with Gordon Berger, he founded his own choral group; some 185 singers were selected from 500 volunteers. The group, which was to rehearse at Dr. Norman Vincent Peale's Marble Collegiate Church, was dubbed the Collegiate Chorale. When the church's consistory requested that the chorus be trimmed to 100 members, and that its Roman Catholics, Jews, and blacks be removed, Shaw and company moved elsewhere, but the name stayed.
One of the singers present at the Collegiate Chorale's first rehearsal was contralto Florence Kopleff. "He was a bundle of energy," she recalls of her first impression, "and very charismatic - likeable, knowledgeable and very infectious with his enthusiasm."
Reviewing one of the Collegiate Chorale's first performances, critic Henry Simon observed that "Robert Shaw conducted in a violent and unconventional manner," but he "made it at once apparent that here is a new, major chorus." At about the same time, composer William Schuman was sufficiently impressed to ask Shaw and his chorus to participate in a concert of his music. But Schuman recognized that the young conductor needed some coaching, so he was sent off for lessons with George Szell, who was then teaching at the Mannes School. Shaw subsequently applied for, and got, a Guggenheim Fellowship, which he used for a year of concentrated study with Julius Herford, a German emigrant who later would direct the doctoral program in conducting at Indiana University.
The Collegiate Chorale's reputation grew quickly, and in September 1945, Shaw's charges were hired to sing Beethoven's Ninth Symphony with Toscanini. When the fearsome conductor showed up for his first rehearsal with the Chorale, far from throwing one of his infamous tantrums, he pronounced himself delighted. To NBC's Samuel Chotzinoff he declared, "I have at last found the maestro I have been looking for."
This was to be the first of many collaborations, and within a year, Toscanini invited Shaw to conduct the NBC Symphony in a challenging all-orchestral program: Beethoven's Second Symphony, William Schuman's Fifth, and Peter Mennin's Festival Overture. That same year, Shaw spent the first of three summers at Tanglewood, teaching classes in choral conducting and preparing choruses for Koussevitzky's Boston Symphony Orchestra concerts. In the fall, William Schuman hired him as the Juilliard School's new director of choral music.
In 1948, Shaw formed the select professional chorus that would carry his name for 20 years, touring 47 states and 29 countries and recording extensively. Both the Robert Shaw Chorale and the Collegiate Chorale performed regularly with chamber orchestras, and on the side Shaw continued to hone his conducting skills in sessions with Julius Herford; in 1950, he worked with Pierre Monteux and Arthur Rodzinsky.
Then, in 1953, he was offered the position of music director of the San Diego Symphony. His five-year tenure there included a major expansion of the orchestra's season - and it gave Shaw a concentrated workshop in which to learn orchestral repertory and rehearsal techniques. With the press of these responsibilities, he gave up direction of the Collegiate Chorale in 1954; a year later, he was given the Columbia University's Ditson Conductor's Award, honoring his contribution of "a new vitality to choral music in the United States."
In 1956 came a big surprise: George Szell invited Shaw to become an associate conductor of the Cleveland Orchestra, to develop a symphony chorus and conduct some of the orchestral concerts. With more than 80 concerts to lead during his first season, Shaw got another baptism by fire. But, for 11 years, he had what he dubbed "the hottest orchestral property in the U.S. to learn on," and for a mentor, he had one of history's most formidable orchestral technicians.
What Shaw learned from Szell was the importance of meticulous editing of orchestra musicians' parts - that and the cultivation of a kind of chamber-music mentality within a symphony orchestra. "Szell developed the first symphony-sized chamber orchestra in the world," Shaw says. "He prepared their parts, and he made them listen." From watching Toscanini he had also learned "the severest sort of concentration on the music during performance, and economy of choreographic movement."
For all his growing orchestral experience, though, Shaw continued to be thought of mainly as a choral conductor. So it was quite the talk of the orchestral world when, in February 1966, he was named music director of the Atlanta Symphony Orchestra.
The ASO had been formed as recently as 1945, originally as youth orchestra. Under the guidance of Henry Sopkin it had gone professional - and adult - but it remained a part-time outfit. By the middle 1960s, with a Ford Foundation grant forthcoming and a new arts center about to be built, the orchestra's board figured it was time to take a major step forward.
Like a whirlwind, Shaw arrived in Atlanta in August 1967. In his first season, the orchestra was enlarged to 87 musicians, the season was expanded to 30 weeks, and salaries were raised. The following season, for the first time, the orchestra became a full-time occupation for its musicians, with rehearsals during the day. Shaw lost no time in creating the 60-voice Atlanta Symphony Orchestra Chamber Chorus, and three years later he formed the 200-voice Atlanta Symphony Orchestra Chorus. In October 1968, the orchestra moved into the new 1,762-seat Symphony Hall, in what was subsequently named the Robert W. Woodruff Arts Center.
With appearances in Washington, D.C., and New York in May 1976, the Atlanta Symphony Orchestra began to attract national attention. The orchestra and chorus participated in President Carter's Inaugural Concert at the Kennedy Center in January 1977, and a year later, with Telarc, it made the first-ever digitally-mastered commercial recording, of Stravinsky's Firebird Suite and selections from Borodin's Prince Igor. Since then, the orchestra has made more than 30 recordings with Shaw, many with the ASO Chorus; still more discs are planned. The most recent release, on Telarc, is of the Mahler Eighth Symphony.
During the years with his New York-based choruses, Shaw made a point of championing contemporary music; for the Collegiate Chorale, he had commissioned Paul Hindemith's When Lilacs Last in the Dooryard Bloomed. And he continued to give his attention to new music in Atlanta, to the chagrin of some patrons. In the middle of his fifth season, the orchestra's board decided it was too much and asked for Shaw's resignation. It was duly tendered, without recrimination, but the community rose up in protest. The board rethought its position, and soon Shaw was negotiating a new contract. The orchestra went on to commission new works by composers such as Karel Husa, Henry Brant, Donald Erb, Ned Rorem, John Harbison, Alvin Singleton, William Schuman, Stephen Paulus, and Leonard Bernstein, and to win repeated ASCAP awards for adventuresome programming.
"What is important is that music for 'thinking' be encouraged and supported and promoted as industriously as music for 'forgetting,'" says Shaw of the contemporary-music issue. "If there is ever to be a flowering of American 'serious' music, it must be sought and promoted by audiences as well as musicians. But the musicians must lead the way."
Having taken the Atlanta Symphony Orchestra and Chorus on its first European tour in May and June of 1988, Shaw retired as the orchestra's music director. He was weary of the administrative duties, and he reasoned that "the orchestra and its audience deserve some variety." And, at age 72, he wanted to spend more time with his wife, Caroline, and son, Thomas. Yoel Levi was named his successor.<FROWN:E23\>
CAPTURING LIGHT IN PASTELS
BY BRAD FAEGRE
Pastel is an expressive, spontaneous medium that combines the best qualities of drawing and painting. The color and direction of each stroke contribute both to the mood of the painting and to its visual excitement.
I enjoy working in pastel because it is an expressive, spontaneous medium that combines the two activities I like to do most: drawing and painting. As a drawing tool, a pastel stick can be used to define the shapes of objects with lines; as a painting tool, pastel can be blended to create tonal areas. As my ideas take shape, I can work both ways on the same surface.
Light is my most valuable instrument for expressing feelings; it can be used dramatically, to capture those moments when stormy skies open up momentarily and brilliant sunlight bathes a meadow, or quietly, to express, through rich contrasts of muted colors, the melancholy of late evening, when the land gets dark and mysterious.
When painting, I keep in mind a valuable piece of advice I received from my college English professor. "When you write," he said, "speak to an audience of one. Imagine that you're talking to your best friend. If you do this, you'll be more likely to speak honestly and without affectation." Although he was referring to writing, his advice definitely applies to painting as well. In the beginning stages of a picture, I imagine myself communicating with my closest friend and determine what feeling I'm hoping to express; then I try to picture the completed artwork. I call this stage 'the daydream.' Success depends on knowing when the daydream and the painting become one.
Ideas simmer in my imagination for a long time before they clearly present themselves. Once I have a specific idea in mind, I begin composing the painting, searching the subject for darks and lights and then placing them on the paper surface. I sketch lightly at first, making my preliminary marks with colors of medium value. With a landscape, for example, I often start by sketching the negative shape of the sky, which helps me define objects above the horizon such as mountains, trees, and buildings; with a still life, I begin by drawing the lighter values of the objects. At this stage, mistakes in the position or proportion of shapes can easily be altered.
Since I'm able to draw with pastel, I think about the structure of the picture while I'm working, making decisions as the composition evolves. I spend time on the drawing because I enjoy it, but I also believe that it is of great importance - if a painting doesn't start with a good drawing, it's not going to be good when it's finished. I find when teaching workshops that people tend to jump into painting before working out the bugs through drawing, and their problems become apparent as they continue working. Although it can take months for me to see the paintings clearly in my mind, an average-size painting usually takes about four or five days to complete. I have tried a variety of acid-free boards and papers and have experimented with a wide range of rough and smooth surfaces. In most situations, I prefer a smooth surface because it allows me to make strong, expressive strokes that might seem defused and weak on rougher surfaces. Canson-Talens, Arches, and Strathmore make drawing papers in a variety of colors, and my favorites are dark colors, bright colors, and black. The color of the paper surface acts like an under-painting; I allow the color to peek through from between the strokes of pastel to create interest and enhance the mood of the picture.
Working on black paper has become something of a trademark for me. I developed my technique for working on a black support in a manner directly opposite what I do in watercolor, where I leave the white paper alone in areas that I want to remain light. Conversely, when working on a dark surface in pastel, I let the paper show through for my darkest values. Black paper creates a dramatic contrast with the colors of the pastel, and I find it also accentuates the quality and direction of my strokes. My decision to experiment with black paper was purely pragmatic: I was annoyed by the fact that colored pastels become contaminated when placed over black pastel, even when a fixative has been applied to the first layer. Using black paper eliminated this problem (and consequently some of my need for fixatives).
Through teaching workshops, I've become familiar with many of the pastels being manufactured today. There are several kinds that I like, but I most prefer soft pastels in large sticks, particularly those made by Sennelier and Rembrandt. The soft, even consistency of these sticks makes them very responsive to the subtle pressures of my hand. For example, if I lightly drag a soft pastel stick across a painting surface, I can make marks of subtle delicacy. If I press hard, I can lay the pigment down in opaque, buttery cascades.
Five years ago, when I purchased my first set of pastels, I was concerned that the thicker soft pastel sticks would be clumsy and make it difficult for me to render detail. As a result, I chose hard pastels because they came in narrower sticks. Fortunately, I discovered the expressive advantages of soft pastels when I won a complete Rembrandt set in a competition. In addition to being very responsive to the pressure of my hand, large sticks of soft pastel increase the variety and expressiveness of the marks I can make. By breaking a stick, taking a segment of it, and dragging it on its side, I can achieve very broad marks; marks of medium width can be made with the end of the stick as it wears down; and fine lines and details can be made with a sharp edge, if one exists (if not, I just break the stick to create one).
In the past, what frustrated me the most about pastels were the large deficiencies that exist in the range of very dark colors. As a result, I was often forced to use black in areas of deep shadow, where it can be both uninteresting and overpowering. Fortunately, I learned that Sennelier manufactures a generous five hundred fifty-two shades of pastel, and included within their darkest shades are warm and cool blues, reds, browns, greens, and purples that provide desirable alternatives to black. I always keep dozens of Sennelier colors on hand to satisfy my need for dark colors.
The quality of the pastel strokes is of primary importance to me. I've learned a lot about strokes from examining the works of some of the artists and illustrators I admire the most, among them Claes Oldenburg and Charles Dana Gibson. I appreciate the graphic nature of their drawing and, by looking closely at their work, I've learned valuable lessons regarding the descriptive and expressive potential of line and color.
Once I put a mark down, I make an effort not to draw on top of it - to let the stroke of pastel stand clearly and concisely rather than changing or blurring it. I have no set formula for selecting color or determining the direction of my strokes. I feel my way through the painting, with one decision leading to the next. Regardless of whatever decisions I make, though, I always draw with the pastel stick. Since individual strokes are so important to me, I'm unwilling to smudge pastel, whether it is with my fingers, stomps, tissues, or any other implement. My purpose is to leave an exciting network of lines, both delicate and bold, placed either side by side or one on top of the other in multiple directions. These lines describe form, create visual interest, and express my feelings about a subject.
As a result, I'm often asked how I blend colors or soften the edges of objects. The answer is simple: I blend colors by layering them while reducing my hand pressure and changing the direction of the lines. However, I avoid crosshatching lines at ninety degrees, which looks too mechanical; I feel that lines that cross obliquely are far more interesting. Also, I find there are so many colors available that I don't really need to do any blending - the pastel colors on the market are more lively and interesting to me than blended tones - which is one of the reasons why my palette is made of more than two hundred colors.
Color is very significant to me because I don't always portray the colors of my subjects as they really are. Although I want the pictures to seem realistic, I also want them to communicate my feelings. If I want the painting to be melancholy, for example, I use cool tones; if I want to express joy, I use warm hues.
No matter how lightly I spray fixative on pastel, I find that it darkens values and deadens color intensity, so I use it sparingly. However, I sometimes use it in limited ways to intentionally darken areas that appear too light or too intense. I also rely on fixative when a painting surface becomes so saturated with pastel that marks become increasingly difficult to make; a little bit of fixative sprayed on the area will create a more cooperative bed on which to lay new color.
Daniel Ludwig
BY SAM KIRBY
By pursuing his own artistic vision, this Rhode Island artist creates lush, expressive works that have fostered successful sales, gallery exhibitions, and his reputation as a serious painter.
IN A WORLD SATURATED WITH COUNTLESS images and many styles of painting, how does an artist make even the simplest decisions about what to paint? For Daniel Ludwig, the answer is easy. "Honesty," he says, "is the key to good painting." Artistic honesty allows a painter to disregard the distractions and criticisms of the outside world and find his or her own direction.
In Ludwig's case, that direction is clear. Whether in his figurative paintings, for which his wife, the painter Anne Leone, often serves as inspiration, or in his painterly landscapes exploring classical themes, Ludwig's work reveals his fascination with color, mood, and the painted surface.
Propped against a wall in Ludwig's studio, a recent addition to his home in Newport, Rhode Island, are a number of his large canvases, glittering with the bright colors of fresh oil paint. One canvas depicts three women bathing in an arcadian pond. Several others comprise a series in which men wrestle in wild, natural environments, their struggle carried out against crashing waves or the thick growth of a jungle. In another work, a woman stands alone in a grove of trees - the atmosphere is reflective, melancholy. The woman could be a mythical goddess or a marvelous statue, but her identity is unimportant. Ludwig's figures often look hauntingly familiar, and, indeed, they are akin to the allegorical figures painted by the Old Masters. The vibrant colors and loose brushwork, however, are the products of Ludwig's hands.
Ludwig considers his paintings to be classical in origin, many of them dealing with traditional themes that incorporate myths, literary narratives, and images from famous works of art. Nevertheless, his ideas for paintings are not generated exclusively from these sources or even from real-life scenes but from his dreams and imagination. Although trained as a classical realist painter, Ludwig firmly believes that he would be lost without his imagination. "Even when I was young and pouring over pictures in art books, I didn't think of paintings as simply depictions of real life," he explains. "I believed that art didn't come from life but from the imagination of the artist. When a painting begins to reveal its meaning or identity to the artist, there are no obstacles, no external pressures. There is nothing holding the artist back."
Sitting in the bright sunlight streaming through the large windows of his studio, the thirty-two-year-old artist talks about the great masters' consistent approach to making art.<FROWN:E24\>
THE PLEASURE OF THEIR COMPANY:
JEWELS IN THE DANISH CROWN
LONG CELEBRATED FOR ITS MALE DANCERS, THE ROYAL DANISH BALLET BOASTS WOMEN WHO ARE RAVISHING IN THEIR OWN RIGHT. AUDIENCES IN WASHINGTON, D.C., AND COSTA MESA, CALIFORNIA, WILL HAVE AN OPPORTUNITY TO SEE THEM DANCE BOURNONVILLE IN JUNE.
BY MARILYN HUNT
Let's hear it for Danish women. Historically, although Lucile Grahn, Toni Lander, and a few other women have made brilliant international reputations, the men of the Royal Danish Ballet have garnered the lion's share of the limelight. After all, the ballets of the great nineteenth-century choreographer August Bournonville present male dancers exuberantly free from eclipse behind their partners' skirts. But close observers of the Royal Danish Ballet have known all along that its women are special, too, that in the Royal Theatre a remarkable succession of dancer-actresses has flourished, with a pedigree springing from Bournonville's light, breezily easy-looking - and secretly daunting - distaff choreography. An essence of these women is suggested in a pose unique to Bournonville heroines' mime - a tendu <*_>a-grave<*/> la seconde with the working foot resting on the floor in a relaxed demi-pointe: The openness of the body to the audience and its down-to-earthness-within-convention tell us these are real people.
Currently a group of young women is surging forward in the company, bursting into major roles. Spectators have increasingly seen them competing and guesting on foreign stages; but audiences for the American tour in June, like those that attended the big Bournonville festival in Copenhagen last March, will have the good fortune to see them in context-jewels in specially designed settings.
The Royal Danish Ballet's artistic director, Frank Andersen, is as proud of his fresh, talented women as he is of his men. Rose Gad, Silja Schandorff, Henriette Muus, Petrusjka Broholm, and Christina Olsson take their places in the company along with such established principals as Heidi Ryom, Lis Jeppesen, and Mette-Ida Kirk, and other rising dancers such as American Caroline Cavallo (newly named soloist) and English dancer Claire Still.
The company's women are particular beneficiaries of two recent, long-awaited developments that have finally been settled with the Danish government. One was the creation of a soloist rank, where traditionally there had been only two categories - principal and corps. Most of those promoted to the new intermediate rank so far are women, who in the past have suffered the schizophrenia of dancing, say, Giselle one night and a corps wili the next, as well as all the skepticism of foreign audiences toward corps members' dancing leads.
The other development was the lowering of the retirement age from forty-eight to forty. While many invaluable older character dancers will, of course, be retained, some senior dancers will give way to expanded ranks of young women, making productions of Swan Lake and The Sleeping Beauty feasible.
The company's dancers traditionally haven't taken separate bows. They've grown up together from as early as six or eight years of age, receiving their ballet and academic training in the same Royal Theatre where they now dance - in some of the very ballets that they appeared in as children. Gad, Schandorff, Muus, Broholm, and Olsson, who were in more or less the same class in school and are now twenty-three to twenty-six years old, were apprentices around the time that Andersen took over as director in 1985, and they were just becoming visible during the company's last visit to the United States, in 1988. The wonder - but one typical of the company - is that they have different and distinctive personalities and qualities.
Their independent, forthright air, with a hint of sexuality, keeps Bournonville's heroines evolving with the times - in the company's new production of A Folk Tale, for example. But these dancers are versatile and don't want to be "put in a box"; participating in the breadth of the company's repertoire is important to them. Self-aware and self-critical, they are conscious of their individual evolutions.
Made a principal after her creation of the passionate and vulnerable title role in Flemming Flindt's Caroline Mathilde last year, Rose Gad has a sort of golden glow and a natural romantic lyricism, from the smooth roll through the foot to the breadth and curl of long, liquid arms. She learned the Sylphide from the late Hans Brenaa and first danced the role at eighteen. Giselle and the heroines of Bournonville's Lay of Thrym and A Folk Tale followed. Gad feels that her strong points are style and a belief in the ballet's stories, whereas, she says, "I don't have a body built for pure classical technique. But I'm really trying to work on it." Nevertheless, she makes a real ballerina in her performances of George Balanchine's Theme and Variations and Tschaikovsky Pas de Deux. She has recently danced the latter at Paris Opra Ballet galas, partnered by POB's Manuel Legris.
The year after Gad received the women's Erik Bruhn Prize in Toronto, Silja Schandorff made it two Danish women in a row by winning in 1989. (She has since returned to dance with the National Ballet of Canada as part of an exchange arrangement between the two companies.) This January she was named a principal. Possessed of a magisterial, long, lithe body, high extension, perfectly arched feet, and large, luminous eyes, she gobbles up the works of Balanchine and Jerome Robbins, loving their energy and musicality. She has also benefitted a great deal, she says, from working with Ib Andersen and Anna Laerkesen in new ballets. Recently Schandorff has taken on narrative parts: Myrtha in Giselle, roles in The Lay of Thrym, and the lead in A Folk Tale. Sailing, airy and joyous, she proves that, contrary to tradition, a tall dancer can give a lot to Bournonville.
Henriette Muus shared an award for best couple with Alexander K<*_>o-slash<*/>lpin at the 1986 Jackson competition, where their pas de deux from The Flower Festival in Genzano was a favorite. Muus continues to shine in that Bournonville showpiece. Her compact build and her effervescence and mischievous wit onstage make her a natural for Bournonville - the heroines of Abdallah and The Kermesse in Bruges, for example - and for Copplia, to which she brings a particular joie de vivre. She is funny and touching as John Neumeier's slapstick, spectacled Helena in A Midsummer Night's Dream. Ballet is not easy for her physically, she says. But she is a quick learner, and in a character she looks very secure, playing with balance, phrasing, and attack and shading her moods. Her dancing rises to a passionate commitment, too (as Olga in John Cranko'sOnegin, for example). She is interested in different kinds of roles, such as the Sylphide, and she scored a success as Juliet recently with Australian Ballet.
Temperament and liveliness characterize Petrusjka Broholm's dancing. Bournonville style comes readily to her; her imagination lights up the role of Teresina in Napoli. Noticed favorably at the New York International Ballet Competition when she was nineteen, she has an eagerness for dancing and extending herself that took her to the Berlin Ballet for half of last season. Working on Flemming Flindt's The Lesson, she says, taught her the courage to push effects rather than playing safe. She dances Copplia, Olga in Onegin, and Robbins's Afternoon of a Faun. Broholm says she wants to "get to the point that every movement has expression and connection, so it is really music, and I can make a whole melody."
Christina Olsson has always had a strong, expansive technique and a big jump suggesting strength. The powerhouse 'Vortex' solo in Alvin Ailey'sThe River was an early role. (Schandorff did the sinuous 'Meander.') Olsson loves Balanchine and has done the Russian girl in Serenade, the Agon solo, and Polyhymnia in Apollo. A change of pace has been Lar Lubovitch's jazzy Rhapsody in Blue. She used to focus too exclusively on virtuosity, she says, and is now working on movement quality and a more fluid port de bras. "I still have a tendency that when I get nervous my legs take over because they're so strong," she says, but she is interested in "expressing something with my dance, because that's what makes it all beautiful." Olsson's new softness and lyricism are visible as Hermia in A Midsummer Night's Dream, and Irma in Bournonville's Abdallah.
How do these five women feel about being in this company, with its Bournonville tradition? Do they feel at any disadvantage, compared to the men, in terms of training or repertoire?
They say they do not feel overshadowed. They point out that women are as necessary to Bournonville's ballets as men are. Gad volunteers that "it's great that Danish male dancers are so famous," and she likes "the way you dance with each other or to each other, instead of having the males behind all the time." Muus says she loves Bournonville even though it "is very hard, and the women's steps are sometimes men's, [such as] beating steps." "It's harder than it looks," Schandorff points out, "so it gives you a lot of strength."
Olsson says she became aware, though, when she studied at New York City Ballet's affiliated School of American Ballet, that, while Danish training gives women more jumps ("males' jumps, heavy jumps"), Balanchine training gives more pointe work. She also notes that, compared with Balanchine, Bournonville doesn't provide the women in the corps with much to do - a common complaint in the company. On that account, she feels it's especially important for the company to have a big mixed repertoire.
The women like the musicality and expressiveness of Bournonville choreography. Muus finds the steps harmonious, "and you can play with them"; the emphasis on the use of the whole body and the de-emphasis of athletic feats are a relief. Bournonville class for her is "like a breath in the midst of all this tension about being placed."
Olsson gives working on Bournonville (in particular, soloist roles in Abdallah) the credit for changing her focus from virtuosity to movement quality. "Bournonville is really good for me, my quality and heart," she says. "It's hard on the calves, and there might be quick little steps, but it's always supposed to look easy - soft and gentle." She also likes the jumps and the breadth of the steps, using the whole stage.
For Schandorff, Bournonville has been very much a matter of rapprochement: "I feel that the things that I was good at, I couldn't show in Bournonville. They would always advise me not to raise my leg so high. When you are a kid, sometimes you can be a little bit 'smart' and say, 'No, I don't like that.' I think a lot of kids felt that. But later I realized that less can be more. So it is nothing to do with how high the leg is, but the way it is. It's really a lovely way of dancing and a wonderful tradition."
The dramatic legacy of Bournonville has given the dancers an unusual degree of imaginative involvement. They often speak of forgetting themselves onstage and becoming the person they are playing. Although, as Muus points out, the women characters are often "young and inexperienced," still they are "very different from story to story," and a supernatural character such as the Sylphide is a special challenge. Gad finds that Bournonville helps one learn how to create a role - and to do it in a way that looks natural rather than 'acted'.
In Napoli - one of the ballets scheduled for the U.S. tour - Broholm believes that the role of Teresina has the responsibility of holding the three acts together. She has thought through her approach with her own details: "The dancing is not very difficult, but it really has to be quality. In the first act, Teresina is happy, she's free. She's me! In the second act [in which Teresina comes under the spell of the sea god Golfo], it's exciting because you have to express that you're almost dancing in water, like a water plant. When Teresina does port de bras, it's like reaching toward the surface. <FROWN:E25\>
Installing and Troubleshooting Car-Audio Systems
These valuable hints and techniques can help you install a car-stereo system like a pro.
BY WAYNE R. GIPSON, CET
Like most worthwhile endeavors, installing your own car-stereo system is much easier if a few professional methods are utilized. Furthermore, armed with the right knowledge, installing a car stereo can also be a rewarding experience. To help you 'roll your own' set up, this article will provide insights into practical installation and troubleshooting techniques. This article will also help you determine if a particular system or vehicle might demand professional installation, and will provide 'red flags' that might help the installer avoid damage to the vehicle or stereo.
It should be mentioned that the procedures set forth here are not to be interpreted as applying to every installation scenario. The reader is expected to use his or her own judgment in applying these ideas to their own situation. Always read and follow the instructions supplied with your stereo system. If questions arise, consult the dealer from whom the equipment was purchased.
Sizing-Up the Job. Many problems arise when trying to fit a car stereo into a vehicle that cannot accommodate the system's size or dimensions. Some stereo systems are simply too large to be mounted into the dash of a smaller vehicle, and speakers that are too large for the cavity of the interior of the car can be damaged in use. To avoid these problems, take advantage of the literature that your dealer can provide that will list dimensions of the different head units and speakers that you are considering. Be sure to take advantage of all the good advice that a knowledgeable dealer might offer. If you buy your equipment from such a dealer, he will be glad to evaluate your vehicle. After all, it is much easier, and more profitable, for him to to satisfy your needs at the onset, rather than have to take back merchandise that cannot be made to fit. By the same reasoning, be wary of a salesman who pushes a particular stereo before he even knows what type of car or truck you own.
The first step in deciding on the right stereo is to draw a diagram of your vehicle on a piece of graph paper, similar to that shown in Fig. 1. Take time to visualize what you want your system to look and sound like before you buy it. Once features have been settled on, price must be considered. At this point, before shopping seriously, consider the list shown in Table 1 to determine if there are any accessories that must be included in your price.
<O_>figure<O/>
Having a firm grasp on wanted features and price, examine the dash area of the vehicle. Most older domestic cars have a 'two-shaft' radio (one shaft for the volume control and one for tuning.) If, when the radio is pulled, and there is a small rectangular center cavity with shaft holes on either side, you are limited to a shaft type radio. If there remains just a large rectangular cavity, then you can install either a shaft-type radio or a DIN type radio, depending on the mounting bracket you buy.
Speaking of mounting brackets, several car-stereo accessory manufacturers market a wide range of plastic faceplates and mounting brackets custom designed for your vehicle type. These accessories can make your installation look very sharp and professional. Some can accommodate with a DIN-mount stereo and an equalizer in the cavity used by the original radio. Generic mounting units are also available, and they are usually much cheaper than the ones marketed by the car-stereo manufacturers. However, to take advantage of special mounting arrangements like the radio/equalizer mounting mentioned above, the manufacturer's mounting units must generally be used.
When examining installation literature put out by the manufacturers, be wary if the guide states 'professional installation recommended' or warns you that the system is incompatible with your vehicle. Take their advice, and do not attempt to install such a model in your car. Always remember the manufacturer is eager to sell equipment. If they gave-up trying to fit the unit into your model of vehicle, you stand a very slim chance of proving them wrong.
If your vehicle has a 24-volt electrical system or a 'positive ground' (meaning the positive post of the battery is connected to the chassis, or frame, of the vehicle), do not attempt installation yourself. Take your vehicle to a professional installer. Damage to the stereo and vehicle will surely result from improper installation in such a situation.
If you own a newer vehicle, seek advice before replacing a factory- installed/original-equipment stereo unit. Some new vehicles have sophisticated wiring and control schemes that are designed specifically for that car maker's factory-installed stereos, and careless or incorrect removal of the radio might cause damage to the vehicle's electrical system.
Getting to It. One tip that will save you a great deal of time is to test the system outside of the vehicle before installation. That gives you a chance to rehearse the installation before the fact. It is very discouraging to put the vehicle back together, button everything up, and turn on the unit only to learn that it is an 'out of box' failure. Those instances, happily, are few and far between, but it is good practice to do a bench test; if the unit is bad, it is much easier to return a like-new unit versus one whose chassis has been scarred and fingerprinted during the installation process. If you'd like, the retailer that sold the unit may bench test it for you.
Before starting to remove the old stereo or installing the new unit, disconnect the negative battery cable from it'sits terminal. That prevents the battery from running down while the doors, trunks, and hood are open, and also prevents injury to you should you accidentally short the wiring.
Carefully examine the original radio to learn how it comes out of the vehicle. If it is a shaft-mount unit, generally there are nuts affixing the control shafts to the dash, and then there will be a back brace that holds the rear of the radio tight to the car's frame. Basic mechanic's tools are sufficient to accomplish the removal; use deep sockets to loosen the front nuts. On some vehicles, the radio is mounted from the front, and generally the bolts that fasten the radio to the console can be easily taken out, although a few utilize reverse-headed bolts that require a special tool available from an auto-parts store or from the dealer to be removed.
Once the radio is unfastened, carefully detach the wiring from the radio. Some of the connectors can be incredibly hard to remove, but generally they will detach without much trouble if time is taken to examine the fasteners and find any 'hidden' snaps or brackets used to keep the cables in place. Never cut any of these connectors off. As we'll discuss shortly, these connectors might be able to attach to an aftermarket harness interface, or if the original radio was to be replaced, perhaps when the vehicle is to be traded, they would be handy if left in place. When those connectors are disconnected from the radio, pay attention to where the power cables are. These must be taped up so they do not touch anything or short together.
Follow the car-stereo manufacturer's instructions to physically install your new unit. One installation step many inexperienced installers overlook is to secure the back strapping (shown in Fig. 2). In order to ensure a trouble-free installation, the stereo must be secured with that strap. The pressure on the front shafts and nose piece of the stereo is relieved by the back strap, keeping problems like broken printed-circuit boards and bound mechanisms to a minimum. The metal back strap also provides a common ground for the system. To help avoid noise and engine interference problems (which we'll explain later), a good ground point is essential.
Generally, it is best to avoid hooking up a stereo to any of the wiring harnesses that are provided by the vehicle manufacturer unless an aftermarket 'breakout' harness is used to plug into the original harness. Such breakout units will clearly label wiring that can be used in installing the new stereo. If no such harness is available, run your own cabling directly to the speakers, power source, etc. It is dangerous to take for granted that a wire emerging from the vehicle's wiring harness reading +12 volts will be correct for hooking up to your stereo. The voltage might be coming from an electronic control point to the clock or tuner memory, and drawing current sufficient to power your stereo will damage the source. You might consider using the cable that powered the original radio, but the size of the wire could be insufficient to feed the new system, particularly if amplifiers or other peripherals are installed. The wire might overheat, and burn up the vehicle's wiring harness, or it might be connected to a fuse that will blow when the system is cranked up, disabling other equipment in the vehicle.
One tip to help you get the connectors you may need for your radio would be to bring the literature supplied with your new equipment to the dealer. That way he can 'see' what you want, rather than trying to figure out what to sell you from a verbal description.
<O_>figure<O/>
Antennas and Accessories. Most units today have one power wire to power the amplifier section and control functions, and another to provide a continuous voltage to retain selected stations in memory and to power the clock function. The main power wire allows the radio to be turned on and off with the ignition switch. Sometimes the second wire, if deprived of 12 volts, will prevent the radio from working. This wire must be connected to a source that provides 12 volts on a continuous basis.
If you have an electric antenna in your existing system, provisions must be made to provide power to the antenna. Generally, when 12 volts is applied to the antenna's power-lead, the antenna extends, and when the 12 volts is removed, the antenna retracts. There are a few variations, so consult the dealer if in doubt. The antenna power lead can often be determined by examining the original radio. Sometimes, a wire legend is stamped on the radio with the abbreviation 'ANT' denoting the antenna wire, or one of the wires might have a tape affixed to it labeled as an antenna lead. Most car stereos have a 12-volt outlet wire that is used to supply voltage to the antenna when the radio is powered up.
Keep all connecting cables as short as possible between the radio (or head unit) and any add-on components, such as an amplifier or equalizer. If a long run is necessary (perhaps because the amplifier is mounted in the trunk), then use quality interconnect cable to minimize interference. Be sure to follow the manufacturer's instructions regarding size of power cables for the amplifier. Most of the time, you can connect amplifiers and head units of different manufacturers together, but be sure to find out if special interconnections are required. Once again, your equipment's documentation will help the dealer determine how and what accessories are required to complete the installation. When mounting amplifiers and other items, such as crossovers, really beautiful bases can be made for these accessories by using finished plywood. A plywood base is great for mounting a system's amplifiers and crossovers behind the seat in a pickup, or in the trunk of a car.
Speaker Tips. Data on selecting correct speaker sizes can be had in the same manuals that the manufacturers publish for their head unit recommendations. The speakers must seal the opening they project sound through. You must not let air escape around the speaker mounting from the front of the cone back to the rear. Such leakage will diminish sound quality and power.
<#FROWN:E26\>
TRAINING AND DEVELOPMENT
PSE&G's center shapes distribution apprentices; reaches out to customers
By Nancy G. Sooy
Since its inauguration in 1989, Public Service Electric & Gas Co's (PSE&G) unique Edison Training & Development Center has successfully 'graduated' distribution-systems apprentices in programs covering everything from overhead construction to substation operations.
Hands on. Fashioned from a renovated warehouse on 15 acres of land in Edison, NJ, the center's main building is a 90,000 ft<sp_>2<sp/> facility designed to provide quality technical-skills training for the utility's distribution systems department.
It succeeds at this by: (1) establishing specific performance objectives for each 'job family' and developing employee skills to meet those objectives; (2) reinforcing the basic skills training provided at the training and development center with hands-on field experience; and (3) constant feedback on employee performance through instructor mentoring.
Employee-designed. Inside, the training and development center is a multi-functional structure with dual-purpose rooms equipped for both training and emergency uses. PSE&G called on employees to help design the center. A team consisting of employees from the distribution systems engineering and construction departments, along with training instructors and outside architects, designed the shops and laboratories based upon the job-related functions of each room.
Outdoors. Outside, training facilities include a four-acre site for overhead and underground distribution construction, maintenance, operations, mobile equipment, a commercial driving track, and other special training programs.
Back inside the center, there are executive conference rooms, an auditorium that can accommodate up to 125 people, and a full complement of core facilities, including a library, audio-visual equipment, host telephones and computers, food service areas, and an administrative area providing telephone, reproduction, and fax equipment. However, the most frequently used components of the building are the 37 skills training laboratories and meeting rooms.
Old days. Skills training at PSE&G was a lot simpler 30 years ago, when distribution-systems employees relied primarily upon on-the-job training. However, with the introduction of highly sophisticated overhead and underground distribution systems, complicated and expensive construction tools and text instruments, along with complex service restoration procedures, the company recognized a need for structured training programs.
Trailers. The first formalized T&D apprentice training program at PSE&G began in 1967. It left employee skills training to be done at each of the six division headquarters. Fifteen years later, in 1982, training became centralized at a facility consisting of temporary trailers on grounds adjacent to the current site of the new training and development center.
Focused. Since its opening in 1989, the new center has trained thousands of employees in courses that focus on personal safety and development of technical expertise in equipment and systems used in the field. Apprentice programs are offered to service dispatchers, linemen, underground technicians, equipment operators, substation mechanics, substation operators, relay technicians, meter technicians, automotive mechanics, engineering technicians, and clerks.
Mentoring. These training programs also extend beyond distribution systems to include other company business units, Pennsylvania-Jersey-Maryland Interconnection (PJM) pool dispatchers, and employees of primary customers and governmental agencies.
An important element recently added to the center's apprentice lineman program is 'mentoring.' The mentoring program was developed to increase communications and rapport among instructors, trainees, and field supervisors. Because of the limited amount of time for trainee development, this triad insures that the time devoted to field experience is meaningful, diversified, and productive.
When apprentices attend formal training for the first time, they are assigned an instructor who becomes their mentor and visits them when they go out into the field for hands-on experience. Mentors consult with local supervisors, crew chiefs, and trainees, who keep record books on their work assignments. Mentors detemine the trainees' progress and evaluate their training assignments. They use the field visits to detemine what the trainee needs to enhance performance skills.
"I think mentoring has gone a long way to improve the learning curve with PSE&G trainees," says Jesse Brown, manager of the Edison center. "Mentoring helps to insure that the employee's on-the-job work is truly supplementing training."
Upgrades. Training at the center is not just for apprentices. Throughout employee careers, there are many other occasions when they can use the training center for follow up, technical updates, and developmental and other enhancement courses. The same holds true for the center's 24 instructors, who are also given technical and instructional enhancement on a continual basis. Most of them have prior field experience and teach multiple disciplines. A few days a year, the center is shut down to update technical and instructional skills.
Upfront. Constant feedback is encouraged as a part of the center's continuous improvement cycle. "Our teaching method stresses the difference between education and training," explains Thomas Devine, senior training supervisor at the facility. "Education is the gaining of knowledge for its own sake, but training is gaining knowledge with a specific, well-defined performance goal in mind," he explains. "When students walk into our classrooms, the course objectives are given to them right up front. We make a direct connection between what they're learning and the job they'll be doing when they return to the field."
Double duty. Devine notes that the training workshops were designed to include equipment that could simulate actual field situations. "One of our capabilities here is that if an emergency situation arises in the distribution systems department, our training props become available to act as operating equipment," he says. "For example, if a breaker or feeder row fails, we can take out the equipment that's here and send it to wherever it's needed to get the customer back in service. We have actually done this. Eventually, the failed piece of equipment comes back to the center and we can learn from it."
Emergencies. In fact, the carefully designed, dual-purpose training center's rooms are pre-wired with emergency telephone lines and computer connections in the event an emergency arises. There are also fixed cellular phone and radio systems in place to communicate beyond the normal telephone grid. The following emergency functions are supported:
System operations alternative emergency command center - This is a room that can be activated in less than half an hour for load dispatching for the entire state should the emergency systems operations center in PSE&G's Newark (NJ) headquarters be unable to function;
Distribution systems department's alternative storm/emergency command center - This room can be used by distribution systems in the event a major outage prevents all six divisions of PSE&G from manning the Newark emergency storm center;
Computer mainframe emergency command center - This room houses the computer backup for the entire company;
Board of regulatory commissioners (BRC) emergency information center - This area consists of two rooms where information can be easily relayed to the state's office of emergency management in the event of a storm or calamity affecting statewide utility services. It can also be used to provide assistance to the state Dept of Environmental Protection and Energy during times of energy-supply emergencies involving the curtailment or disruption of electricity services.
Clerk program. Although the center is designed to put great emphasis on training field employees for actual work conditions, inside personnel, such as clerks and engineering technicians, are not overlooked. The apprentice-clerk program consists of three phases that focus on administration, payroll/records, and classification storeroom.
Technicians. Meanwhile, for engineering technicians, an apprentice engineering technician program covers drafting, inquiry, new business, overhead, underground, and planning, with additional courses - such as fundamentals of electricity, dc and ac, and the fundamentals of electric distribution. Management personnel are also included in the skills training and development process. Courses such as front-line leadership, positive discipline, and supervisory technical orientation are offered. Other courses at the center are designed for the general employee population. Some of these are customer relations training, root-cause analysis, PCB and oil-spill procedures, hazardous-waste cleanup, and communications.
Leadership and licenses. A recent program addition is a leadership-development course given to union employees who are operating-department group leaders, to provide practical experience in identifying and applying leadership techniques. The course is designed to improve group safety, communications, operating effectiveness, and customer relations.
Another service provided is commercial driver's-license certification, not only for distribution-systems personnel but for production and transmission-systems employees as well. To date, the center has certified approximately 3000 employees.
Outdoors. Though it belongs to PSE&G, the utility is not the center's only customer. Government agencies, state employees, and other utilities often request its use to supply skills training, such as cable splicing and electrical safety. In addition, the center has also provided 'beyond-the-meter' training to PJM system operators, the US Coast Guard, and other companies, including PSE&G's primary customers. And in 1991, approximately 4000 people attended electrical safety demonstrations given to emergency squads, fire departments, schools, and community organizations.
Balloons. One popular safety show is a 'high-voltage demonstrator,' a large simulator that uses actual equipment and live electric current to demonstrate the dangers of contact with downed wires. The demonstration shows how objects such as fire hoses, trees, kites, and even mylar balloons can create havoc with high-voltage equipment.
Another way the training center reaches out to customers is through its electrotechnology demonstration facility where product testing and demonstrations inform industrial customers of new process technologies - such as ultraviolet curing and infrared drying. These new processes help customers remain competitive by improving product quality and increasing productivity and energy efficiency.
What's in the training rooms?
An important feature of the training and development center is the ability of the skills-training laboratories to simulate actual field situations. Some of these rooms and their features include:
Meter training room. This room is equipped with electro mechanical system work stations to provide polyphase hands-on training experience for the fundamental electrical courses presented. This room contains examples of meter and service equipment found in the field. Each installation is connected with proper secondary service voltage to enable employees to train under field conditions.
Electronics training room. This room is equipped with preparatory electricity and electronics training aids and a selection of the instruments used in the field. The laboratory has been designed and furnished to accommodate basic electricity, electronic microprocessor, and fiber optic training required for various job classifications.
System protection training room. Standard switching and substation equipment has been installed, including relay racks, cable trays and carrier and transfer trip equipment. Personnel learn through operation of actual equipment under simulated field conditions.
Primary line training room. Poles have been installed in this shop to permit all-weather, indoor training in primary line construction and maintenance. Line personnel are taught safe work practices and procedures over hard surface areas.
Cable splicing and network training room. Work stations have been constructed to provide hands-on instruction in cable splicing. Network protection equipment has been installed and is energized to simulate field conditions for training.
Substation mechanics training room. 4-kV, 13-kV, and 26-kV circuit breakers and switching equipment have been installed with control circuit wiring. Here, personnel are instructed in maintenance, troubleshooting, and repair of these devices.
Miscellaneous mechanics training room. This dual-purpose room has been designed for the instruction of miscellaneous mechanics and for the construction of simulators and mock-ups for the training center. It is equipped with stationary and portable power tools.
Computer training rooms. The computer rooms are functional installations for training apprentice clerks, service dispatchers, and other employees. The IBM PS-2 computers are connected via local area network to the company mainframe system. This allows personnel to learn the customer inquiry system, materials management system, and other computer programs and courses under job conditions.
Secondary line training room. An energized, overhead, secondary distribution system has been installed in this shop and feeds a variety of service installations found in the field. Secondary service construction, maintenance, troubleshooting and repair are taught through practical hands-on exercises. Simulators to teach transformer connections are also located in this shop.
Automotive training room. This room has been constructed with work bays and equipment necessary to provide training in mechanical as well as the latest electronic areas of automotive maintenance, troubleshooting, and repair.
The CAMS TowneTown room. CAMS means, 'customer and marketing services.' This room contains a meter-reading town consisting of eight streets housing 110 electric meters. The various meters and meter installations are dispersed in 55 building modules.
<#FROWN:E27\>
SEEDS OF OPPORTUNITY
Central Brazil is ready for new fields of soybeans. In Londrina, U.S. farmers nurture a precious crop.
BY JENNIFER ERICKSON
BUSINESS EDITOR
Certain things about Brazilian agriculture - small and out-dated equipment, an abundance of poor farm workers - won't impress you. But the result - healthy fields of sugar cane, coffee, wheat, corn and soybeans - will.
Another thing that will impress you is the potential for growth.
"Brazilian agriculture is like a huge engine idling, waiting for a good world market," says Harvey Kluvers of Litchville, North Dakota.
"I always knew they were a big competitor, but until you drive by mile after mile of those waving soybeans, you really don't know how big," says Doug Emerson, a farmer from Kenyon, Minnesota.
Doug and Harvey, and 15 other Midwesterners, looked first-hand at Brazilian farming in February as part of a farmers' work crusade with the Fellowship of Christian Farmers (FCFI) and Men For Missions International (MFMI).
The group, led by MFMI's Brazil director Jay Edwards, helped with the construction of Shalom Community Church in Londrina, Paran<*_>a-acute<*/> . They also toured farms, a co-op and the country's National Soybean Research Center.
Land of opportunity
Edwards, who grew up in Brazil, went to college in the U.S. and farmed his grandfather's Indiana farm for eight years before returning to the mission field. He has travelled throughout Brazil exploring agricultural opportunities. His view: "I'm convinced that as far as agriculture goes, there's no place in the world with more opportunity than central Brazil [see map]."
Soybeans are at the center of that opportunity, with lands as flat as Kansas and as fertile as Indiana lying in wait on Brazil's central plains. Much like pioneer expansion into the U.S. Corn Belt, Brazilian entrepreneurs are clearing land (it's 1,000 miles south of the rainforest) to plant soybeans and graze cattle.
"If all the land was developed, there would be at least 203 million hectares (about 515 million acres) of cropland in Brazil," says Luiz Csar Guedes, an economist with EMBRAPA's (Brazilian Organization for Agriculture and Animal Science Research) National Soybean Research Center near Londrina.
One major stumbling block to expansion in this region is transportation. For example, Guedes says it costs $51/ton to truck soybeans to the port from the west-central state of Mato Grosso, compared to $16/ton from field to port in the south.
Mato Grosso is home of the world's largest soybean farmer, Olacyr de Morais, who is working to build a railroad into the region to cut transportation costs. In April, Brazil's National Bank for Economic and Social Development approved $250 million in financing for the 1,000-mile railroad.
Financing anything in Brazil - a rail-road, a farm or a new church - is a challenge. Inflation, which has recently slowed to about 20% /month, has been anything but manageable.
"It's not easy to plan and get going with this crazy economy here," says Ricardo Gomes de Araujo, who has farmed 4,350 acres near Londrina for 15 years.
Visiting Ricardo and other Brazilian farmers gave the FCFI group an impression that farmers everywhere face similar problems - insects, drought and prices.
Along with visiting Brazilian farms, the group of U.S. farm men and women worked with members of Londrina's Shalom Community Church to pour cement for the foundations of a new church building. In the midst of the work, they poured new breath into the foundations of their personal lives.
"It's so good the way God puts it together. The people who end up here are the people who needed to be here, not only with their hands, but spiritually," says Dale Larrance, a farmer and veteran MFMI work team member.
Dale has ventured to Brazil 16 times (as well as Colombia and Belize) with MFMI from his Ridge Farm, Illinois, farm where he sells Cargill seed. "I went down there to tear up the world," he says. "All I did was help myself."
"We enjoyed working with fellow Christians, both the Brazilians and the Americans," says Harold Vahl, a farmer from Edgerton, Minnesota. "The reception we got was excellent because of the fellowship we have in Christ and you don't have that on a normal farm tour."
"Brazil is tremendously impressive both agriculturally and spiritually," Edwards says. "Senior missionaries who have been there for 35 years say they have never seen a time when Brazilians are more hungry for the Gospel than now."
The 1993 FCFI/MFMI Brazil farmers' crusade will return to the Shalom Church or another church building site. The group will also tour local farms, a co-op and the research center. Dates are January 7-21, 1993. Price is $1,725/person from Miami. Group is limited to 20. Men and women are welcome.
Brazilian farm show draws 20,000
When an idea brews with Ricardo Gomes de Araujo, it's reality.
This innovative Brazilian farmer planned and dreamed for four years to host a successful farm show on his family's 4,350 acre farm last April. The show, which drew more than 20,000 visitors to his farm, was modeled after the Farm Progress show which is held each fall in the United States.
His 'Expo Dynamica' included machinery, tillage and harvesting demonstrations, along with displays from farm suppliers. Ricardo hopes his farm show will continue to grow.
Araujo also coordinates a group of farmers who share production and cost information, striving for efficiency. "We try to exchange knowledge and technology," he says. "We try to have farmers with the same conditions and crops work together, but what's more important is that they have the same mindset."
"What is important for us is not each crop, but the whole system. Considering the cost of production and other things, we try to make the whole system work."
STRIP A FIELD CLEAN
The English-made header that strips just the grain heads from cereals stalks is earning the respect of U.S. growers
BY HARRIS BARNES
Following the 1991 harvest, wheat growers are claiming that a combine header that strips grain heads from plants is the biggest breakthrough since the self-propelled combine.
And farmers who no-till soybeans behind small grain are crediting this stripper header for giving them faster and better stands and weed control, resulting in higher soybean yields per acre.
"By any standard the stripper header made a combine and a half out of my John Deere 9950. In a single day we harvested a 105-acre field of 65-bushel wheat," says Raymond Armistead, who farms with sons Kevin, Joel and Eric near Adairville, Kentucky.
Plucks heads from stalks
The revolutionary 18-foot-wide header, built by Shelbourne Reynolds Engineering in Great Britain, literally plucks small grain and grass heads from their stalks, leaving the straw behind.
Because only a fraction of the crop's straw is ingested by the harvester, the header allows combines to run at nearly twice the speed across fields.
The innovation was originally created by England's Agricultural and Food Research Council (AFRC). The English engineers report the header works well in cereal grain, grass seed, navy beans, dry peas, flax and rice. However, it is doubtful whether the stripper header will work in soybeans because of high shatter losses and the header's inability to reach low enough to pluck low-growing pods.
As it is now designed, the stripper header also can't harvest corn, grain sorghum or sunflowers. Non-grass-type crops present a problem for the header as these crops don't provide enough of a 'wall of straw' for it to work against.
The header's teeth work against such a wall to prevent seeds from being thrown forward. Researchers have also found that the heads of some wheat varieties explode on contact with the plastic teeth.
The header, which comes in 16-, 18- and 20-foot widths, fits most any combine feeder house. The average price for an 18-foot header is $28,000.
For more information call 800/482-1959 if you are located in the Midwest, 703/254-1441 in the East, 501/697-2226 in the South, 509/529-9837 in the West and 916/458-4923 in California.
The Shelbourne Reynolds header got its first taste of U.S. wheat harvest in 1990, but has operated in English fields for several years. Sales of the stripper header have skyrocketed in the Mid-South wheat belt and southern rice-growing areas since it was introduced.
For example, Big Rivers Agri Supply of Owensboro, Kentucky, sold 56 stripper headers last year. "I predict the number of these headers running in our area to double in 1992," says Ronnie Rutherford of that firm.
Last years was the first year the Armisteads used the stripper header. "With one of these headers the grower must think ahead and think big, for there is a lot of fast hauling from the field to the elevator," adds Raymond Armistead.
He says from what they experienced last year with the stripper header, he is convinced that they can harvest as good a quality of small grain as ever before. "And we did it 1 1/2 times faster than a conventional combine. By setting the combine properly we got 'rave reviews' from our elevator manager."
Charles Wagenaar of Adams, Oregon, managed a total of four stripper header combines last year, running them in wheat, barley, tall fescue and blue grass. "We were impressed with the doubling of speed of the Case IH 1680 on flat ground, compared to combines using conventional cutter bars," says Wagenaar, who is field foreman for B.L. Davis Ranches Inc. "With the two Case IH 1670s used on hillsides, we were able to cover the ground at about 1 1/2 times faster than conventional harvesters."
Works well on hillsides
Wagenaar admits to being concerned about running the stripper header in the steep hillsides of eastern Oregon. Safety to the operator and combine are more of a concern than speed in this case. "But no real problem using the stripper header surfaced. We did brace the drive shaft to keep it in place. We also placed a counter-weight on the downhill side of the rotor to keep it level as we changed positions."
The wheat they harvested, mostly the bearded Stevens variety, is very abrasive to the header's plastic fingers and metal wear plates. "As such, we had to change the plastic fingers after the four combines had cut over half of our 7,000 acres of wheat. This wheat was averaging 75 bu. per acre. Worn fingers don't strip as well in thin (60 bu.) wheat as they do in our best 80-85-bu. crops," Wagenaar adds.
"Our one stripper header, mounted on a Deere 7720, did the work of two combines," says Marion Dilday of circle Grove Farms near Belhaven, North Carolina. "This meant savings on labor, fuel and machine wear and tear."
Dilday used the header on 1,000 acres of 60-80-bu. wheat and barley without noticing damage to the seed. "If anything, our seed was better than before as we didn't run so much volume through the combine," he adds. "Where the header really shines is in high-yielding small grains. A wheat grower with an average of 35 bu. per acre would best stay with a conventional header in the wider 24-30-foot header size."
Rice growers are also pleased with the header's abilities. "From what we saw, the header would help both in rice and small grains," says Robert Seidenstricker of DeValls Bluff, Arkansa.
Seidenstricker harvested his rice with two John Deere 7720 combines, one with a conventional header, the other with a stripper header. His father operated the conventional reel-type header in low spots and along the edges of fields. "It wasn't long before we found that the stripper header could run even in lodged rice, so we sent Dad home," he says.
Shelbourne Reynolds has already made improvements to their header since it was first introduced to the U.S. market.
"We are using gear boxes to replace chains and belts in the header," explains Keith Shelbourne of Shelbourne Reynolds. "With at least a year of experience, our dealer servicemen should be able to handle any problems," he adds.
Stripper shines in double-cropping
The stripper header is fast finding favor among farmers who no-till soybeans behind small grains in a double-crop program.
<#FROWN:E28\>
SANITATION
HOW TO COMMIT BIOCIDE
In the strictest sense, sanitation means getting bacteria where they live. But that requires a greater awareness of plant conditions, training practices and QA plans.
LETICIA MANCINI
TECHNICAL EDITOR
"Sanitation tools aren't new," said Bob Richardson, manager of inspection services for General Mills to an audience of sanitarians at last October's DFISA show, "You know what to do with foam cleaners and the like. However, we as an industry haven't figured out how to put it all together."
Richardson was describing problems with executing sanitation at food plants. Every plant has some type of program; every plant thinks they're doing it right. But still there are quality and contamination problems. The thousands of recalls of diverse food products for Listeria, Salmonella and Staph contamination every year are proof of that.
The technology to combat bacterial contamination is there (and is always improving), but without a greater understanding of microorganisms, it is ineffective. However, food companies are not without hope. Problems can be solved fairly simply by taking a good hard look around the plant.
Listeria hysteria
Now for the bad news: many types of bacteria can attach firmly to all types of food processing surfaces, including rubber, stainless steel and Teflon. Without proper attention, gooey biofilms can form, spelling disaster in the form of contaminated product.
According to Diversey Wyandotte Corporation's International Biocide Laboratory (Wyandotte, MI), 5 to 10 percent of foodborne poisoning out-breaks are caused by improperly cleaned food processing equipment. One organism that strikes fear in the heart of many is Listeria monocytogenes, because it is so pervasive. Listeria poisoning, or listeriosis, is almost always severe, and sometimes fatal.
This organism has the ability to withstand heat, acidic conditions and high salt concentrations. But its most frightening aspect is that it can thrive at temperatures as low as 0<*_>degree<*/>C and can survive temperatures as high as 82<*_>degree<*/>C, which indicates it can withstand some cooking processes.
Still, proper cleaning cannot be emphasized enough in the control of Listeria. If biofilms are destroyed completely with cleaners, there will be no contamination. However, if surfaces are not completely cleaned, sanitizing them won't help. Researchers at Campbell Soup have documented that Listeria is resistant to a number of sanitizing chemicals on a variety of surfaces. In the case of Listeria, the old saying "You can't sanitize a dirty surface" has never been more true.
"Listeria has taught us that some previously sound principles are not so," commented Dr. Don Zink, Quality Assurance and Product Safety manager at Nestle USA, to the same DFISA audience. Zink explained that Listeria is present in all plants, thriving in drains, warehouses and standing water. More attention must be placed on environmental control, he said, especially on preventing cross contamination.
Spotting trouble
"Be innovative and persistent when looking for sources of contamination," said Zink. For instance, segregating raw ingredients and processing areas, and limiting human and forklift traffic between them, can improve matters. Free movement of employees can be monitored by using different colored uniforms. And keep forklifts clean and separate. "What good are sanitizing dips for workboots when they will be placed on dirty forklifts?" he said.
The FDA also calls for the segregation of brushes for food contact and non-contact surfaces. Here, Sparta Brush's (Sparta, WI) new Tri-Zone color coded brushes can help. In the Tri-Zone program, red brushes are used for raw food areas, white for processing areas, and yellow for general custodial use. A fourth brush, black, is used for floor drains, a favorite hiding place for Listeria.
Even routine maintenance cannot be ignored. All rubber gaskets should be replaced once a month, before cracks appear that harbor bacteria.
But a little detective work can be a sanitarian's most important weapon in the battle against Listeria, says L.B. Guzzo, technical manager at Oakite Products (Berkeley Heights, NJ). He relates this anecdote: "I worked with a dairy that had a continuing Listeria problem. They were constantly pouring chlorine down the drain. Their swab tests continued to come up negative, but product would still be contaminated. Finally, we discovered that the problem was due to a mechanic using a filthy grease gun to fix all the clean machines, and touching everything." That practice came to an immediate stop.
According to Guzzo, chlorinated foamers are most effective against Listeria. Oakite markets FiChlor Foam HD, a high-foaming heavy duty chlorinated foam for cleaning stainless steel surfaces, and FiSan ACF for aluminum surfaces.
Mal Sorgenfri, vp of R&D at Alex Fergusson (Frazer, PA) suggests using quat-based sanitizers to follow. The company markets a unique product, the Power Block, to be placed in drains after cleaning. It is quat-based, but it is a solid, so that when water flows over it, a small portion dissolves to keep Listeria under control.
And there is a new type of sanitizer from Klenzade (St. Paul, MN) made from peroxyacetic acid. Oxonia Active was developed for CIP sanitizing and provides killing activity in water temperatures as low as 40<*_>degree<*/>F. The product is also biodegradable under normal waste treatment.
Improving training
But using the right product doesn't do much good if it is used incorrectly. Half of all sanitation costs are labor, but sanitation workers are probably a food plant's most neglected resource. They are extremely important when it comes to controlling contamination.
"Somebody has to supervise how cleaning procedures are taught," commented Dick Bakka, director of technical services at Klenzade. "All too often you have Joe Blow teaching some other guy how to clean equipment. The new guy picks up all of Joe's bad habits." Bakka advocates getting cleaning procedures written down, including what chemicals to use and in what concentrations, and keeping them in a bound notebook in a central location. Supervisors should retrain workers, if needed, and supervise the training of new workers.
Klenzade has recognized the importance of properly trained workers in the development of their QUASAR program. The program, an acronym for Quality, Assurance, Answers and Results, details what chemicals a plant might need, and how to use them. Special care is taken so the worker is not overexposed to chemicals. An important part of the QUASAR program is Quorum, a full line of chemicals that utilizes colors rather than names on its labels. The product labels are also bilingual, which makes training easier and less variable.
Sometimes the sanitation supervisor is in need of training. Here, Dennis Bogart of Diversey Wyandotte takes a hard line: "Most sanitarians are not educated well enough in food and spoilage microbiology. There is a tremendous amount of myth about how to get rid of bacteria." Diversey publishes a manual, TACT WINS, that can be used to train supervisors about the fundamentals of cleaning. The manual outlines the principles of time, action, chemical concentration, temperature, water, individual employees, nature of soil and surface to be cleaned (tact wins) and their cumulative effects on bacteria.
Getting crews to understand the principles of microbiology is a different matter. Experts advise sending sanitation workers into the plant, armed with petri dishes, to conduct swabbing tests. "When they do the testing and incubating themselves, sanitation workers gain a greater appreciation of organisms and what they can do," noted Nestle's Don Zink. One food safety manager likes to take a blacklight into the plant to show crews the fluorescing bacteria they missed during cleaning. All surveyed said that training was the weakest part of sanitation programs, but when employees are approached with respect, they show a greater commitment to learning.
Good QA sampling
The third important part of sanitation is developing an adequate microbiological sampling and testing plan. Are you doing the right tests? Are they still critical? If QA reports negative results or low counts, but quality problems continue, the current testing programs must be overhauled.
Rather than step up testing of product, increase environmental testing in the plant. This way, the absence or presence of pathogens can be determined as well as the location of microbial growth pockets. For instance, floor drains, which are always wet, should be sampled and tested. If pathogens are found, tests of the entire 'watershed' are warranted. Also, metal-to-metal surfaces, cracks and crevices, undersides of mats and insulation on pipes should be monitored to confirm that they are not growth pockets. Do not overlook standing water, peeling paint, compressed air lines, wooden-handled tools or equipment repaired with tape.
When sampling, it is important to use good aseptic technique. There are several different methods of sponge sampling, depending on whether the surface to be sampled is wet or dry. If you are unsure of how to sample correctly, independent testing labs can explain the correct technique.
Prior to testing, equipment should be dismantled to expose nooks which may harbor bacteria. As an indication of how effective a cleaning and sanitizing program is, samples from equipment can be collected after cleaning, and compared to samples taken before cleaning.
Silliker Labs in Chicago Heights, IL recommends testing environmental samples first for aerobic plate count or coliforms. Not only are the tests useful for ferreting out microbial growth, they reveal sites that could support pathogenic organisms. These tests can be done at relatively little cost, compared to pathogen testing.
If it sounds like environmental testing can be as complex as a military battleplan, it is. But when sources of contamination are found, then systematically eliminated, proper cleaning by properly trained workers is all that is needed to keep bacteria under control.
AMEXICANADA
ITS IMPACT ON FOOD
The prospect of 360 million consumers in a borderless market spurs 'rationalization,' investment and exports.
CHARLES E. MORRIS
MIDWEST EDITOR
American business isn't waiting for ratification of the proposed North American Free Trade Agreement (NAFTA) linking the U.S., Canada, and Mexico into a common market of 360 million consumers.
According to a new study entitled A North American Common Market?, published in April by Cleveland Consulting Associates (Cleveland, OH), no less than 87 percent of the 190 U.S. executives (representing 170 companies) responding say their companies are already doing business in Mexico. Eighty-four percent expect ratification of a Free Trade Agreement (FTA) with Mexico; and 76 percent believe the U.S. should pursue free-trade negotiations with other Central and South American nations.
The CCA study also demolishes the perception that U.S. manufacturers see Mexico mainly as a source of cheap labor, and free trade as an opportunity to cut the cost of goods sold in the U.S. Eighty-five percent of the respondents cite access to a new market of 81 million consumers as the greatest benefit of free trade with Mexico, while only 13 percent list operating efficiencies as their top priority.
Most respondents recognize, however, that major benefits depend on 'rationalizing' their North American operations -that is, consolidating or expanding manufacturing and distribution where necessary to eliminate duplication and optimize efficiency.
Food outlook
Of the 170 companies covered in the CCA survey, 58 are food-processing firms; 38 of these are Fortune 500 members. Fifty-one operate in Canada; 49 currently do business in Mexico.
Since implementation of the U.S./ Canada FTA, eight have increased ownership of Canadian subsidiaries, seven have entered new licensing agreements, five have executed mergers or acquisitions, and seven have entered new joint ventures. To further boost efficiency in serving combined U.S./Canadian markets, 28 see opportunities to rationalize manufacturing plants, 41 to expand or rationalize distribution systems, and 15 for sourcing raw materials or components.
If an FTA with Mexico is approved by Congress, 31 would consider establishing new distribution systems in Mexico, 37 would set-up new sales functions, 22 would startup manufacturing plants, and 18 would source new materials and components. Nine say they would eliminate or reduce similar activities in the U.S. or Canada, 38 say they would not.
If the proposed NAFTA is implemented to create a North American Common Market, 31 see opportunities to rationalize manufacturing, 44 would expand or rationalize distribution, 26 see new sources for raw materials or components.
Major stimulus for the burgeoning interest of American manufacturers in a NAFTA embracing Mexico: The unprecedented economic reforms instituted since the 1986 admission of Mexico to GATT (the General Agreement on Tariffs & Trade) and the 1988 election of President Carlos Salinas de Gortari.
<#FROWN:E29\>
Pacific Bell
The offices of the firm's ISG Group in a warehouse made habitable and pleasant by Brown Baldwin Associates
MONICA GERAN
PHOTOGRAPHY: JANE LIDZ
At Pacific Bell's Information Service Group (ISG), what could have been a riches-to-rags tale did, in the hands of Brown Baldwin Associates, lead to a happy ending. For the ISG staff had been ensconced in so-called 'Class A' premises: the SOM-designed PacBell headquarters building in San Ramon, set in a park and providing all sorts of coveted amenities close at hand. Then growing pains forced relocation to larger space. And while the selected site, a nearby warehouse latterly converted for office use, had ostensibly been modernized to serve present-day needs, it actually required much remedial work to prevent the transferred group's experiencing a demoralizing letdown. This is where the designers took over, succeeding decisively in transforming a second-best setup into eminently desirable accommodations.
Not that the metamorphosis was easy. As Pamela Baldwin, president/principal designer in charge, tells it, structural problems as found were formidable indeed. For example: old walls had been pierced at 6-ft. intervals and fronted with a new window skin, leaving 4-ft. aisles between remaining sections and the built-out perimeter; column placements were erratic, a memento of past conjoinment of two buildings; and the facility lacked means for accommodating needed mechanical/electrical systems - this for a work dependent entirely on hook-ups to computerized equipment. (One of PacBell's entrepreneurial groups, ISG specializes in development of electronic communications.) Although Brown Baldwin had gone through a fast-track design charette and had prepared a costing/allowance plan, subsequent leasing negotiations, theoretically resolved by arbitration in the client firm's favor, derailed all best laid schemes. The five months' move-in schedule had to be aborted. Deficiencies remained.
The problems demanding curative attention afflicted both levels of the 70,000-sq.-ft. warehouse (another 50,000 sq.ft. are reserved for expansion). On the lower floor, on-grade concrete slab - no basement, of course - had to be saw-cut to accept electrical and telephone conduits. One flight up, more conduits were run through existing waffle pans, creating an unconventional duct system. As for ceilings, the ground floor's overhead reach would have been reduced to 8-ft.-3-in. if wiring/plumbing et al had been concealed under dropped planes; and this, in turn, would have resulted in a claustrophobic cave-like look ruled out as unacceptable by Ms. Baldwin. Accordingly she installed pendant lights while whiting out the exposed ductwork, making the volume seem high and bright. The upper level's sloping roof was slightly less depressive (in both senses of the word), but even so, high-up conduits also were left without cover-up camouflage. Then to assure efficiency and flexibility, extensive testing was conducted to gauge fit and feasibility of furnishing options. Systems furniture producers, Ms. Baldwin asides, tend to ignore the 'creep' syndrome; it just won't do, she explains, to quote width or length which, in actuality, might measure one inch less or more.
When finally able to implement the interiors program space allocations were devised so that no-one has a private enclosed office. That applies to all ranks, not excluding the top man in charge. But there are lots of open and glass-screened conference rooms, the latter designed with inward-angled entryways, grouped in blocks to engender a sense of territorial identity and to fit the prevailing concept of 'neighborhood' setting. A winding 'main street,' wider than typical corridors and distinguished by different lighting and flooring, is the main thoroughfare on each level; side aisles are strictly secondary to the broad rush-hour traffic routes. Paving of the main artery is of vinyl/marble-chip tiles, the composite substance said to give much better wear than all-plastic surfacing. Elsewhere floors are covered with carpet squares, cut on the bias to define make-believe thresholds running parallel to slanted conference entries. The basic color scheme is white, with strong staccato accents supplied by vertical signage panels painted bright red, yellow or green. Red overhead bars, actually inverted aluminum channels staggered to repeat contours of 'streets' below, and patterned carpet inserts at 'thresholds' similarly are in line with Ms. Baldwin's observation that chromatic impact is confined to signpost devices, which, for orientation purposes, are meant to stand out and be seen. Her wrap-up comment about the ISG group's verdict: "They love the new spaces."
The budget is described as tight. Completing the design team were Julie Young, project manager, with Katie Parr and Lenore Levinson.
King & Spalding
The law firm's Atlanta offices designed by Gensler and Associates Architects/Houston and New York
MONICA GERAN
PHOTOGRAPHY: JAIME ARDILES-ARCE
King & Spalding, reportedly one of the country's oldest and largest national law firms, had for many years been headquartered in a late-19th-century building in downtown Atlanta. As the company grew, ancillary space was taken in a '50s structure. But this horizontal kind of expansion, fragmenting as it did the staff's work, soon proved to be counterproductive. Needed instead was a long-term growth-plan, allowing for internal flexibility and inherent stability while also taking into account financial givens.
As often happens at large firms embarked on relocation, K&S turned to a major real estate advisor, in this case Cushman Realty Corporation. Joint talks led to the selection of several leading design firms, a list subsequently narrowed down to a few serious candidates. Gensler and Associates Architects, represented by the firm's Houston and New York offices and collectively selected as one of the finalists, did very well indeed in its initial presentation; but the final decision was left pending. Then for the next go-around, president Arthur Gensler brought in his big gun: Margo Grant, a managing principal of the New York office and a veteran with enviable reputation in law office design. Her experience, proposals and, most likely, her very presence, won the day - and the commission. Under the leadership of Ms. Grant and Jackson Greene, principals in charge/New York and Houston respectively, the combined teams undertook the 273,000-sp.-ft.-gross (250,000 rentable) King & Spalding project.
This still left the question of suitable site. To gauge opinions on preferred location as well as other wants, Margo Grant interviewed each of the client firm's lawyers and many support people, quizzing, it is estimated, about 100 staffers in all. Some wanted to remain in the downtown business sector, others preferred to venture farther uptown. Yet neither zone offered the kind of large building appropriate for long-term commitment. K&S, accordingly, turned to a developer who, it was felt, could meet the criteria set by Gensler and Cushman. Gerald D. Hines Interests and building managers Cousins Properties were tapped, and the de facto multi-partnership chose and screened a handful of architects. The building assignment went to John Burgee Architects with Philip Johnson as design consultant, and the venue became downtown Peachtree Street next to the Ritz-Carlton Hotel, now interconnected to provide two-way access.
K&S occupies the eleven topmost floors of the new 50-story structure; nine are devoted to law practice per se, and the twin peak flights, linked by added stairs, to a mixed-use conference center, reception and dining rooms. The main library is on the 41st level. Below the K&S block, about 150,000 sq.ft. on six floors are reserved for future expansion. Space planning is basically the same for all tiers, though internally, as Ms. Grant notes, some differences apply. Among constants are: elevator lobbies with marble floors that repeat the stone used in elevator cabs, the latter application said to be something of a trademark in Gerald Hines buildings; raised mahogany panel doors at enclosed offices (though endangered woods are, it is said, to be avoided henceforth); unusually wide corridors, allowing two people to walk side by side (with arms swinging or gesticulating freely, one may suppose); and sizing standards in office occupancy. Partners are assigned 240 to 300 sq.ft. (often convertible into two associates' spaces, or otherwise flexible to allow for variations within and from floor to floor); 150 sq.ft. go to associates, 100 sq.ft. to paralegals, and 94 sq.ft. to secretaries. The last-named, in an interesting side note, could have been accommodated at work stations in open layouts, but firmly spoke up for cubicles, having become used to a measure of privacy in previous quarters. Two more factors pertaining to corporate practices, or what Ms. Grant calls "cultural" traits, affect the staff structure. One, the 40:20 ratio of partners vs. associates may seem lopsided in relation to other big law-firms; but here, in marked contrast, the second-in-command has a much better chance of promotion to the next step up. And two, instead of scattering support staff like so many left-overs, they share central facilities on one (40th) floor.
Describing the interiors approach generally, the design principal relates that K&S asked for some degree of tradition without, however, the obvious design clichs supposedly denoting kinship to olde English men's clubs. Since quite a few of the client firm's existing possessions, particularly fine antique furniture and Oriental rugs, were to be brought along, some important ingredients for traditional flavoring already were extant. As to the finer points of interior design planning and implementation, Margo Grant defers to senior designer Cricket Purdy. ("She can do what I would never dare ... Her eye discerns [and she applies] subtleties in colors and materials, often very complicated and time-consuming" are among her encomia.)
Ms. Purdy, accordingly, takes it from there. Her job began in earnest when stacking, i.e., floor-by-floor space allocations, had been determined. Following client discussions about the advisability of installing a reception area on each level - the verdict was affirmative - she developed the program of transposing the green, black or salmon marble treatment of Hines's elevator cabs forward into the lobbies. There, stone flooring is pale beige accentuated with 'feature strip' inserts in one of the three cap colors; elevator surrounds also are of marble. Progressing into walkways, one sees stronger colors used for carpets and painted walls, frequently coordinated with furniture as well. In all there are five different palettes applied to public areas on the nine practice floors. Within work spaces, secretarial-to-assistant ranks are given Knoll systems furniture and snowflake-pattern carpeting. Partners, on the other hand, have free rein to choose whatever they wish. This, one gathers from one of Margo Grant's earlier comments, at first caused a bit of consternation among the designers, who feared that - as indeed happened - results would be unpredictable (not her word). But allowing the legal brass to treat their spaces as expressions of personal individuality is, she says, another example of the firm's "unique culture" that makes K&S special, to her and, one may assume, her client's clients.
The two top floors having been left in their raw state when the Gensler team took over, the designers were able to specify architectural detailing as well as built elements such as the conjunctive stairs. Designed in the proverbial grand and stately manner, with treads and rails of fumed oak, the connector unit rises under a dome ceiling toward an inside Palladian window, this too created by the design group. Although there is no natural light influx through the dome, its paint colors, seemingly changing from pale periwinkle to deep lavender as warm cathode lighting is turned off or on, the area assumes the airiness of an outdoor setting. The topflight terrace was to have been ringed with a parapet, but Gensler's preference for a graceful ballustradebalustrade, open to city views, prevailed. On lower floors, lighting is said to be fairly simple, with lots of down-beam fixtures plus pendants to highlight artworks contained in niches.
Jackson Greene, principal in charge from the Houston office, confirms the obvious: that close and consistent collaboration with the New York contingent gave invaluable continuity to the project. Singling out project architect P. Tara Wasmuth for special plaudits, he notes that she was a key figure in the joint design development, spending a great deal of time on site as coordinator and administrator of construction documents. "The main success of the job," he concludes, "comes from knowing that the client is extremely pleased and proud of the results. Their exceptionally good maintenance reflects this, too." Adding, "And I hope to work with them when they go into expansion."
<#FROWN:E30\>
Showbiz for Beginners
What it takes to break into America's most exclusive industry
By Jon Murnick and Estelle Vaughns
Every boy and girl dreams of becoming a movie star. By the time most reach college, however, that dream has faded to a distant memory, and they are content to remain observers of the entertainment world. But a select few stand fast in their conviction that there is a place for them on the screen, behind the camera, or in the executive suite. Many of these students will indeed go on to find fulfilling jobs in the entertainment industry, but not without hurdling a daunting series of initial obstacles.
As most everyone in entertainment testifies, the most difficult challenge of a Hollywood career presents itself at the outset: getting a foot in the door. This could probably be said of most industries, but it is particularly true of the entertainment business, where there are so many talented people struggling for any given position that a relationship of friendship and trust can be the distinguishing factor in selecting between applicants for upper-level positions. Richard Lindheim began his career in the business by landing an entry level position in a network research department. He now serves as Vice President of Programming Strategy for the MCA Television Group. Reflecting on his years in the industry, he observes that "the hardest task was simply to get a job in the industry; it's much easier to move around once you're in the industry than it is to go from the outside to the inside, [even if you start out as] a clerk, or a gopher to some producer."
Jane Read Martin started as Jane Curtain's secretary on Saturday Night Live, but worked her way up to assisting Woody Allen, and is now an associate producer for The Joan Rivers Show. She agrees that the key is to start at the bottom and work your way to the top, but advises against one particular inroad. "Never offer to intern. If you're good, you should get paid," she says. While interning can be a good way to gain experience while in college, it is a bad way to start your career.
Once inside, the hottest opportunities are jobs in marketing or at an agency. Many of today's network and studio heads began their careers in one of these two specialties. Research and legal affairs departments have also produced a fair number of the industry's leaders.
One's outlook for success can also depend on the type of work he wishes to do. Lindheim suggests that getting a job in a creative area is "really easy." He adds, "The entrance into being creative is to write. If you can write, then you will progress very rapidly. There is a great demand for writers, and a good writer quickly moves into developing and creating his or her own show."
Conversely, positions for executives and directors are in much shorter supply now, due the recession.
Actress Melissa Clayton, who appeared in the television shows The Wonder Years and The Hogan Family, offers insight into the performing side of the entertainment industry. "The biggest obstacle is becoming a member of the Screen Actors' Guild (SAG). Without an SAG card, directors are usually not interested in you." Yet, paradoxically, the prerequisite for Guild membership is performing in at least one professional shoot. Clayton suggests acting in a commercial to get a card.
An added obstacle for the budding actor or actress is finding an agent. While there are many agencies to choose from, the better ones will represent only established talents.
Whatever career one is seeking in the entertainment business, emotional stamina is a necessity. Despite over thirty years of Hollywood experience and previous production successes such as Jaws, The Sting, and Cocoon, when Richard Zanuck tried to obtain studio backing for Driving Miss Daisy, he had to contend with consistent skepticism and rejection. Only his persistence and willingness to shoulder some of the financial risk of the project himself allowed it to get off the ground and go on to become an Academy Award winner with over to thousand percent domestic return on capital. Zanuck advises, "You've got to look yourself in the mirror and say, 'Am I the kind of person that is prepared for tremendous rejection?' because that's what happens. Your ideas are shot down right and left, and doors are closed in your face. I don't care who you are. That shouldn't deter you if you honestly feel you have a talent for the business, but you should realize what's in store."
Both Clayton and Lindheim also stress persistance. Says Lindheim, "While it has never been easy to get into the entertainment business, the opportunities are going to be there for those who persevere long enough."
Buy These Jeans.
Bugle Boy's new Color Denim commercials mix flash and honesty.
By Andrew Stern
Striking scenes fill the television screen. Scantily-clad women. Provocative poses. The commercial you are watching could be for almost anything, now that selling with images rather than information has become an accepted form of advertising. And it is no secret what kind of images sell: sex, sex, sex.
In this new campaign for Bugle Boy jeans, however, an innovative ad company called DDB Needham Worldwide has taken the trend one step further, and in effect turned the concept on its head. They have made a sensation in the advertising world by showing the commercials for what they really are, and honestly and clearly explaining their intentions behind them.
The Bugle Boy Color Denim commercials, which were released in November, feature outlandishly sexy flashes of beautiful women choreographed to rock music with video-like cinematography. A string of subtitles runs along the bottom of the screen, frankly explaining the 'motives' of the campaign. [see box at right<O_>box<O/>].
The premise of the commercials is a conspiracy between the advertising company and the (male) viewers. If this is the kind of thing you want to see, they explain, support the ads by buying Bugle Boy Color Denim jeans. Then Bugle Boy will let them keep running the ads. There is absolutely no mention of the merits of the jeans, or any implication that you should buy them on such a basis. You are apparently asked to do so simply because you like the ads themselves.
The irony is that these ads too are just another form of image, and their real influence lies in linking that image with their product. In this respect, they are very similar to the image-based advertisements that preceded them. It is their frankness in admitting that image sells, however, that breaks the conventions of the industry.
It is also unheard of to run an advertisement in which the advertising agency plays a visible role. Most commercials lead people to believe that they were made by the company featured as a direct communication to viewers. DDB Needham, however, admits its role as an intermediary, and would even have viewers believe that Bugle Boy is somewhat uninformed as to what they are doing in the company's name. This sort of tongue-in-cheek mockery of convention is as refreshing as it is creative. In a world of packaged honesty, it is nice to see some honest packaging.
Balancing Act
College athletes, coaches, and league officials comment on the challenges of competing in both the classroom and the international arena.
By Andrew O'Brien
Is there still a place for the student athlete in today's intensely competitive arena of international amateur athletics? As college rivalries continue to command a growing share of the national spotlight, university coaches and administrators are placing increased importance on managing successful athletic programs. The result has been that varsity sports at many Division I schools now demand such great commitment from athletes that they can no longer realistically be considered 'extracurricular' activities.
Regrettably, the intensified pressures of interscholastic competition also have led to a number of academic violations and recruiting scandals, tarnishing the reputation of college athletics. Moreover, many schools have gradually evolved into split communities, with the general student body on one side and the student athletes on the other, each group with its own dorms, dining halls, and even classes.
In order to integrate student athletes back into the campus mainstream and remove the stain of scandal from the fabric of collegiate sports, the National Collegiate Athletics Association (NCAA) has reformed its standards governing the conduct of all university athletic programs. Beginning with the 1991-92 school year, the new regulations limit the maximum mandatory practice time which a coach is allowed to schedule to twenty hours per week. Over the next few years, athletic dorms will be eliminated and training table meals will be cut to just one per day. The NCAA has also recently toughened the academic eligibility requirements for freshmen participating in athletics by increasing the minimum permissible grade point average for thirteen core high school courses to 2.5 and demanding that each student have achieved a combined SAT score of 700 or above on at least one occasion. Exceptions are allowed, however, since students with lower GPA's can compete if their SAT scores are correspondingly higher.
What effect will these measures have on college athletes and sports programs? Reactions from coaches have been uncertain. "We did need some guidelines," acknowledges Francis Allen, the men's gymnastics coach at the University of Nebraska. "Some schools would practice for six or seven hours a day. But what [the NCAA] gave us is not very good." All of the senior swimmers who competed under coach Peter Daland at the University of Southern California during the 1990-91 season graduated, and sixty percent are now attending graduate school. Daland therefore feels that "for some sports, like swimming, the regulations were not necessary. We can achieve the same results without a lot of this legislation." Prospective Olympic swimmer Chris Smith, currently a sophomore at Montgomery College in Maryland, expressed a similar perspective: "It's not hard to balance classes and swimming if you're responsible and plan ahead."
Critics have also levelled a number of more specific charges against the new rules. Some feel that a greater proportion of minorities will lose eligibility than their non-minority counterparts, because the former tend to perform less effectively on the SAT. Richard Schultz, head of the NCAA President's Commission, disagrees. "Research indicates that these new standards...would only reduce the number of minorities participating in intercollegiate athletics...by about one percent." Schultz also took issue with the charge that the new standards would prevent young athletes from disadvantaged high schools from attending good colleges. "The four year institutions [which make up] the NCAA are not the only avenue of access for young people. There are prep schools, there are junior colleges, and the regulations have been changed so there's access."
Most students and coaches agree that the standards set are minimal, especially since the GPA/SAT requirements have been placed on a sliding scale and are no longer absolute. "From what we have heard," added NCAA Director of Communications Jim Marciani, "the 2.0 [minimum GPA previously in effect] was not very much a factor in determining whether someone was going to be eligible or not, so I don't expect the 2.5 [minimum GPA] to have much more of an impact." Allen asserted his position more bluntly: "People who can't meet these requirements just don't belong in Division I, whether they're black, green, or purple."
Restrictions on mandatory practices have raised another question as well: will college athletes training for the upcoming Barcelona Olympics be able to prepare effectively? Daland believes that they will. In fact, he feels that the NCAA rulings will not affect American Olympic performance at all, because if dedicated athletes encounter training conflicts, they will "just drop out of college." The decisions of former Stanford swimmer Janet Evans and other Olympic prospects to leave school in order to pursue more rigorous training programs seem to substantiate Daland's arguments.
Others disagree with his assessment, however. "I believe [that students who leave have] other motives for quitting college," commented Marciani.
<#FROWN:E31\>
SUPER JOE
BLUE JAYS SLUGGER JOE CARTER IS A BIG-TIME RUN PRODUCER WITH A BIG HEART
BY RICK WEINBERG
He probably gave the money away, probably to one of his sisters. They were always asking him for dough anyway - and he'd always give it to them. Sure, no problem, he'd say; it's yours.
The money was for his father's birthday present. Joe Carter was 11. He earned his money washing windshields while standing on a bucket, 'managing' the soda machine and working the cash register at his dad's service station on 6th and Robinson in downtown Oklahoma City. He wasn't sure what to buy his dad. Maybe a necktie. Dad needed one for his Sunday suit. Maybe fishing hooks. "Dad loves to fish," Joe Carter says.
But he gave the money away. Handed it right over. He couldn't say no.
"I remember him saying he couldn't buy me anything because he didn't have money," Joe Carter Sr. was saying. "Then he says, 'But, Dad, I'm pitching tonight, and I'm dedicating the game to you.'"
That night, pitching for his midget team, the Falcons, Joe Carter pitched a no-hitter and struck out 21.
Happy birthday, Dad.
Joe Carter, the all-star left fielder for the Toronto Blue Jays and the major leagues' No. 1 RBI man over the last six seasons, is still giving money away. Just not as often.
"I pulled him aside one day and told him, 'Joe, this ain't good,'" says Joe Carter's mother, Athelene. "You've got to stop giving so much money away 'cause people aren't gonna learn to be responsible for themselves. They ain't gonna learn to stand by themselves."
So Joe had to learn how to say no - and, at times, it tore him apart inside. With six sisters and four brothers always calling, always asking for help to pay the rent or electric bill, it was hard for Joe to say no. It went against his nature, his character - and he had the dough anyway. Oh, he'd go on a binge here or there. Couldn't help himself. Like right before the holidays, when he took his 40 nephews and nieces down to Toys 'R Us and bought them bikes, games, athletic equipment, video games. Total bill: only around $5,000.
That's Joe.
"Joe and me were at one of those ATM machines a few years back," says Joe's brother Fred, a former minor-leaguer with the Yankees, Indians and Angels. "There was this older woman standing behind Joe. Ragged woman. Had just one shoe. Well, Joe gets $100 out of the machine and, suddenly, the machine stops - it ran out of money. Joe turns around, looks at the woman, looks at her car full of kids and gives her the money."
That's Joe.
"Joe Carter is one of the nicest, most genuine and sincere people you could ever meet," says Padres superstar Tony Gwynn, who's a lot like Carter himself. "He'd do anything for anybody. Anything. Has a heart of gold.
"Couple of years ago, at spring training, all the guys who weren't gonna make the club, the minor-leaguers, well, Joe took 'em all to dinner, gave them all kinds of advice, batting gloves, shoes, and I'm sitting there thinking, 'Man, here's this veteran, this superstar, taking time to take these guys out, treat them like major-leaguers.' And I'm saying, 'Man, I wish there was someone like him around when I was a rookie.'"
Joe Carter used to hand over his pocketful of coins to his sister, Caroline, for lunch money down at Millwood High. Every school day. He was 13. She was 15. "We'd wait for my sister to come by the room before starting classes," Joe says. "It became a ritual. There'd be a knock at the door. 'There's Joe's sister,' and we'd start class. A ritual."
Joe Carter was always telling his folks how tired he was of seeing them lugging themselves to work every morning. So, a few years back, after signing one of his first million-dollar contracts, he told his folks they were retiring, to pick a date, and that would be it. No more work. Permanent vacation. He had purchased an annuity that would pay them $3,000 a month for the next 20 years. He didn't just do it for his folks; he did it for his wife's too.
"I asked him one day, 'Joe, are we worthy of this?'" Joe Carter Sr. says. "So Joe turns to me and says, 'Dad, you drove a rig six days a week, and on the seventh, you'd wash, grease and change the oil on it for $140 - and send the check to me when I was at Wichita [State]. Yeah, Dad, you're worth it.'"
That's Joe. Kind. Generous. Warm.
One day, Carter's mom receives this phone call from a gal whose friend had an ill son. Cystic Fibrosis. The boy didn't have long to live, they said. He was a big baseball fan, and his favorite player was Joe Carter. So Athelene calls her son at his home in Leawood, Kansas, some 400 miles away, and tells him about the phone call. Next morning, Joe's in town, loaded with gifts, eating lunch with the boy.
The boy, Dylan Williams, is alive today.
"Hey, don't go portraying me as being perfect," Joe Carter says. "There's nothing perfect about Joe Carter. Nothing at all."
He says he's got faults, shortcomings. "I'm selfish," he says, leaning forward on the couch in the entertainment room of his 6,100-square-foot home, just a short lob from the homes of George Brett and Bret Saberhagen. "I've taken things for granted. When you play pro sports, when you reach a certain level, everything centers around you. When that happens, it's not Diana Carter anymore; it's Joe Carter's wife. It's not Kia or Ebony Carter anymore; it's Joe Carter's daughters. I got so caught up in the game, I forgot about how I affected the people around me. My wife, my kids, they lost part of their identity because of me."
The voice is a dark velour. Smooth. Joe Williams smooth. He chooses his words carefully, after reflection, and between clauses mixes in a smile that's Indian summer warm. Joe Carter's cool. The voice croons. Welcome; what can I do for you?
But some misconstrue Carter's calm as a sign of weakness, of softness - and how can you play tough, hard-nosed ball and be such a softy? Being so goodhearted, so kind, perhaps it adversely affects Carter's game. Maybe he's not intense enough. Maybe he actually can tolerate losing - and, heaven knows, he knows about that, having played on six sub-.500 teams in eight seasons.
"When Joe first came to Cleveland, I platooned him with Mel Hall," says former Indians manager Pat Corrales, now a Braves coach. "I remember how disappointed he was when he wasn't in the lineup. He'd be edgy during games, especially by the fifth or sixth inning. He was always ready, always holding a bat. When he anticipated me calling on him to hit, I could see his knuckles get tight around the bat; he'd be squeezing it that hard. If that's the sign of a guy who's soft or a guy who accepts losing... sorry, I don't buy it."
Says former Padres manager and GM Jack McKeon, who engineered the blockbuster trade that delivered Carter to San Diego for the 1990 season, but whose firing led to Carter being dealt to Toronto by his successor, Joe McIlvaine: "All you need to do is look into Joe's eyes to see his intensity. That tells the story. The guy's tough. The guy's intense. Believe me."
Some things take convincing. When you see Carter standing at the plate, bottom of the ninth, tie game, runner at third base, and he's smiling, what are you supposed to think?
"I'll tell ya, I took a lot of heat in Cleveland for that," says Carter, who played for the Indians from 1984 to 1989. "They could not relate to my smile, my easygoing approach. I've never taken this game so seriously where I don't have fun.
"Tell you this much: When that pitch is coming, I'm as serious as anyone. You'll never see me smiling when that pitch is coming. Never. I'm able to go from one concentration level to the next in a split second. I have the ability to focus in a snap."
Joe Carter's one of those guys who's able to separate his personal life from the game, the type who has to. The game is overwhelming; it can drive you batty in seven out of 10 times at bat. Baseball consumes Carter, but not to where it controls his moods. Sure, losing bothers him; it just doesn't prompt him to rip up the clubhouse or go home and kick the kids.
"I've heard the stories about how the old guys played the game," he says. "When they got beat, they'd get mad, go to a bar, get drunk, throw up, come back the next day, play and be mad as hell. That's not me. That's not how Joe Carter does things. If someone's looking for that, they're looking at the wrong person.
"You have to deal with defeat sometime in your life, somehow. Fact is you're gonna lose sometimes. You have to learn how to cope with it. If you don't, you'll go crazy."
There have been times when he's wanted to scream in frustration, kick a garbage can in the runway, throw his glove against the dugout wall. But he refrains from throwing tantrums. What kind of an example would that be?
"Joe didn't bust up any chairs," says Corrales, "but I know he wanted to a few times."
Joe Carter's will to win is so powerful, so passionate, that he became adept at picking up little signs which alter games, turning possible defeat into victory. "One game," says Gwynn, "he comes up to me after scoring in the first inning and says, 'This guy's tipping his pitches. Watch his index finger [on the glove hand]. When he bends it, fastball. When it's straight, breaking ball.' Sure enough, that's what he was doing. By the second inning, we knocked him out of the game.
"Another time, we come in from the field, and Joe says, 'They're stealing Benny's [catcher Benito Santiago] signs. The [runner] at second is telling the hitter what's coming with body signs. His right arm is out when Benny calls a fastball; his right leg is out on a curve.' Sure enough, next inning, they get a runner on second, and I see him doing all these crazy things. We had Benny change his signs."
Joe Carter's desire to win won't allow him to take a day off, something he hasn't done since 1988. He's played in every game, all 162 of 'em, the last three seasons. Among active players, he's baseball's No. 2 iron man, trailing only Cal Ripken Jr. in consecutive games played. When Carter injured an ankle in Game 3 of last year's AL Championship Series, he refused to leave. He could barely swing with any power, but there he was, playing on heart, on courage.
"In this day and age, when guys fake injuries and don't put forth the effort necessary to help their club win, well, I can't accept that," he says. "Fans pay $20 to see you play. I can't disappoint them. I won't disappoint them. If I don't play, the fan who pays that money isn't getting his money's worth, and I just won't allow that to happen."
That's Joe.
Joe Carter's trademark, his 'obsession,' is spelled out on the Kansas license plate of his red Jeep Cherokee: JC RBIS.
As in Joe Carter, Runs Batted In.
Perfect.
"Appropriate," he says with a wink.
He's knocked in 100 or more RBI in five of the last six years - and the only time he didn't, he knocked in 98. His RBI total of 653 since 1986 is No. 1 in the majors. More than Jose Canseco. More than Ripken.
<#FROWN:E32\>
PLCs GET THE OPEN LOOK
JOHN R. GYORKI
Staff Editor
Open systems used to be a buzz word that was seldom heard outside the computer industry. But not anymore. An open architecture, where machines from numerous vendors can talk to each other, is becoming as important on the factory floor as in offices. Makers of programmable logic controllers (PLCs) say their customers increasingly ask for open architecture, both in new systems and in upgrades.
An increased reliance on electronic networks is what's driving the trend. Manufacturers now need PLCs that send information not only back to centralized mainframes, but also to other controllers on the production line. The result is that more data is being shuttled back and forth between PLCs, as well as up and down the manufacturing hierarchy.
Customers are also demanding large-scale improvements in control software. As systems grow and machine throughput increases, ladder logic becomes increasingly cumbersome - it struggles handling critical control loops and multiple tasks. Moreover, PLC users are becoming more sophisticated about the control techniques they use in manufacturing. This means that PLCs need faster response and more computational abilities. To squeeze high performance out of PLCs, manufacturers are providing software enhancements that include higher level or alternative languages such as C, Basic, and assembler.
Open systems
"Everyone is moving in the direction of CIM and integration," says Ron Ellis, PLC product marketing manager, Omron Inc., Schamburg, Ill. The push toward automation puts a high priority on capturing considerable information for management analysis and on sophisticated operator interfaces. The need is for fast and reliable networks.
Coprocessing functions, such as numeric and graphic operations, must be handled by the PLC hardware, not the ladder logic. Then hardware and software bridges must be built between PLCs and system host computers. Some PLC vendors offer a VME standard platform as a solution because it can support a high-speed local-area network (LAN) running at up to 2M baud on the factory floor. But there is a problem. Many users are unwilling to adapt the VMEbus because some VME manufacturers deviate from what is not a rigid standard to begin with. Then, when interface problems arise, it's difficult to fix and impossible to blame any one VME product. Users often make-do with impromptu fixes that let modules work together. PLC vendors view such solutions as too shaky and are reluctant to sanction their use on proprietary PLC backplanes.
Perhaps most important for automation is software. In recent years, much effort has gone into software for sophisticated operator interfaces. Many vendors have generated some elegant operator panels using new PLC programming tools and graphical user interface cards.
Process controls and machine tools increasingly use simulation and emulation software for display purposes. Displays that give operators a view of valves operating, vats filling, and tool bits cutting depend on such software to update screens accurately and fast. And as applications become more complex, some PLC vendors believe computer-aided software engineering (CASE) tools will help automate a large portion of the software development and maintenance programs.
Communications
There is no one standard for LANs. However, some types of networks are more widely used than others. For example, the top and lower three levels of the Manufacturing Automation Protocol (MAP) are frequently found in factories, but they have yet to be recognized as standards.
The original goal of MAP was to provide major PLC suppliers with a standard that would replace or work in addition to their proprietary communication protocols. Users could then mix and match control devices based on their cost, features, and performance. Unfortunately, MAP turned out to be an elusive goal. Suppliers could not get together on essential elements to make it work, such as physical connections, link/physical layers, protocol stack, and application protocol. Consequently, only parts of MAP have been adapted and it is not a universally recognized standard.
PLCs aren't the only pieces of automation gear sporting communication facilities. Machine and process controllers of all sorts now come equipped with a communications link. One common application is in motion controllers. Here, the minor loops that control machine motion also feed information and data to supervisory computers for diagnostics. The information provides management with a preview of possible impending failures, tool wear, and data for statistical process control (SPC).
Communication links are showing up not only between PLCs, but even between the PLC and its input/output terminals. The reason is that there are economic benefits to putting I/O terminals closer to sensors and actuators. For one, the wires connecting sensors and actuators to the I/O block are shorter. Less-expensive twisted pair or coaxial cable then connects the remote I/O block to the CPU. The resulting system costs less to build, assemble, and install.
Another benefit to PLC vendors and OEMs alike is that only one I/O product need be manufactured for the entire PLC line. In the past, vendors had to design different I/O modules for every rack or other form factor in the product line. But now, boxes the size of a pack of cigarettes reside remotely, serve as I/O terminal blocks, and communicate with any level PLC.
Software
PLCs initially were designed to replace relay racks. Thus, early on, they were packaged to look like relay boxes to make them nonthreatening for electricians. For the same reason, they were programmed using relay ladder logic and designed to operate sequentially to emulate relays.
Today, computers are becoming ever less intimidating, and the original justification for using ladder logic is rapidly evaporating. There is a trend for more sophisticated users to take advantage of the PLC's computer power by migrating to higher level languages such as C and Basic.
ELIMINATING SPAGHETTI I/O
All PLC vendors are rethinking their I/O concepts. One reason is that even small differences in I/O can have an impact on PLC sales. So vendors are paying attention to their I/O offerings. This has brought, among other things, more I/O for low-to-middle range PLCs. Because first cost is a major issue in these recessionary times, users are turning to smaller PLCs but need the I/O of large-scale PLCs.
One approach, designed to meet such needs comes from GE Fanuc, which developed a low-cost interface module and an architecture for a low end PLC that handles distributed I/O. An input module doubles the density of the Series 90-30 PLC to 320 I/O points in a 10-slot rack. The modules handle a wide variety of sensors and actuators by providing <*_>plus-minus<*/>24-Vdc logic, 5-V TTL logic, and <*_>plus-minus<*/>12-V logic in various I/O configurations.
Siemens also sees a need for distributed I/O. Says Uwe Frank, marketing manager, Siemens Industrial Automation, "I/O selection from a customer perspective should be unlimited. Expect to see I/O and sensors coming from different vendors that will work from the same communications bus and is available in numerous form factors."
Compact NEMA-4 I/O will complement recently announced NEMA-12 remote I/O on Fieldbus. Siemens' entry is its model ET200K, a fully sealed and mountable module directly connected to Fieldbus. The Siemens distributed I/O network, Sinec L2DP/ET200, has a throughput speed of 1 to 10 msec. Sinec is a subset of the Siemens Fieldbus network. Over 150 international companies make products compatible with the standard.
Allen-Bradley, the biggest player in the U.S. market, states that its most important improvement recently has been in distributed I/O. For example, Allen-Bradley recently introduced a model 1791 I/O block. The new I/O blocks contain a variety of functions to handle special applications, such as motion control, plus analog and ac signals as well as traditional dc.
Although distributed I/O was used in the past, a remote point consisted of several modules, a power supply, and a rack. Now, it is enclosed in a block no bigger than a brick allowing it to be located closer to sensors and actuators. Also, Allen-Bradley expanded its 16-point module to 128. But industry's focus still appears to be on blocks under 20 points for more distributed capability.
WHAT OPEN SYSTEMS REALLY MEAN
Some PLC users buy only from one source because doing so gives them a sense of security. But others, who have the skills and the technology, mix and match gear from various vendors to get a more customized system. "One way of customizing systems," says Martyn Jones, marketing manager, Modicon Inc., North Andover, Mass., "is to interconnect different PLCs and automation devices through a software program and a network. But automation equipment vendors must sit down together and hash out protocols and specifications to ensure that their netwoks mesh right down to communication chip levels." Modicon had such discussions with more than 40 companies. The result was a partnership program and a series of products called Modconnect that provides them with a widely compatible, reliable network.
Another approach to open systems between computers and PLCs is through circuit boards that plug into standard computer backplanes and match with a variety of LANs. Examples include boards for the IBM-AT, PS-2 microchannel, and VME computers.
Allen-Bradley Co., Milwaukee, Wis., is also a leading proponent of open systems. Mark Moriarty, commercial marketing supervisor, says that Allen-Bradley must make certain the people who come into the protocol understand networking requirements in detail. Opening up the system to other vendors also opens up some liability because it lets customers introduce errors when modifying processor bits and bytes. "But despite some danger, opening systems gives users the capability to make changes and develop new solutions faster than purchasing and installing new gear," adds Moriarty.
Says Robert Sor, Mitsubishi Electronics America Inc., Mt. Prospect, Ill., "We choose to keep the bus proprietary, but tie into networks such as MAP and Ethernet because we don't offer a VMEbus-type product. But in a sense, we open our system by exchanging communication specifications with other PLC vendors so the network that evolves is error free." The advantage of retaining a proprietary system is having control over interrupts and internal information that can be accessed by outside PLCs and computers. A proprietary system is more robust, fast, focused, and dedicated to the problem at hand than an open one. Furthermore, a disadvantage of a VME-type open chassis is that there are many component suppliers in the market with product variations to the standard that makes it difficult to pinpoint a problem when one comes up.
LINKING PLCS TO COMPUTERS
Computers are being used increasingly in programmable controller applications to provide graphic interfaces, networking, mass storage, or to run off-the-shelf application software. But combining computers and PLCs through an RS-232 communications path is limiting. The link is relatively slow and susceptible to noise interference. "To get around the problem, some companies have integrated PLCs and computers within a single box with parallel communication paths," says Paul Virgo, director of marketing, Pro-Log Corp., Monterey, Calif. The computer performs the computations and data manipulation, while freeing the PLC to handle I/O scanning and improve response time.
Two different approaches have been used to integrate computers and PLCs. For one, some PLC makers provide an optional computer module that plugs into its own PLC that uses a proprietary bus. But, says Virgo, at this level, no vendor has a PLC rack that is so standard that it can accept plug-in modules from other vendors.
The second approach is an open architecture. Siemens and Modicon, for example, make a PLC on a card that plugs into a computer passive backplane, such as an IBM-AT bus, and provides connectivity to a variety of networks. These open systems conform to a set of standards with many companies providing hardware and software compatible products. But industrial computer companies have been slow to make such PLC modules for the computer industry, perhaps because they lack familiarity with the PLC controls world.
Pro-Log Inc., however, is one of the few firms that does provide a combined computer and a series of programmable controllers that interface with a wide variety of networks. It employs a 486-based processor for DOS and Windows applications along with a ladder logic processor with scan times less than 1 msec.
<#FROWN:E33\>
Where's the bubble? - A turning point for gas?
Mark E. Teel, Engineering Editor
The 1992 edition of Natural Gas Trends, a joint study by Arthur Andersen and Cambridge Energy Research Associates, says the first signs of a upturn in the natural gas sector are showing up. This has been expected and predicted for sometime by many of us in the industry. A turning point has in fact probably been reached, but conflicting pressures will still contribute to market uncertainty.
"Demand growth has been the most important factor in tightening the market balance, with consumption having risen nearly 20% over the past five years," said Everett Gibbs, Arthur Andersen's managing director for natural gas industry services and Thomas Robinson, CERA's director for North American natural gas, study authors. They added that "At the same time, questions have emerged about future supply availability as a result of retrenchment in the upstream U.S. gas industry, where the top 40 reserve holders replaced less than 72% of production last year."
Tightening supply and demand, and regulatory changes are producing significant effects, according to the study, including:
Gas price will be more volatile and less predictable on seasonal patterns
Competitive restructuring and realignment among producers, pipelines, marketers and distribution companies driven by FERC Order 636 and a tightening market will benefit merchants who can provide flexible, reliable supply.
According to Gibbs and Robinson, "The industry as a whole has clearly entered a new cycle that includes increased consumption, growing supply constraints, new competitive pressure and for some producers, a return to profitability."
Supply. Upstream financial constrains and more cautious 'just-in-time' strategies by producers have led to a sharp decline in gas development activity. This may lead to near-term declines in natural gas reserves and productive capacity. Longer term, the North American resource base remains abundant as evident by ongoing discoveries in important gas regions, including the Gulf of Mexico Flexture trend, Mobile Bay and British Columbia.
Demand. Low prices and markets like non-electric power generation have resulted in gas demand rising to over 19 Tcf. The bright side of recent depressed wellhead prices is that usage has remained high in spite of the recession and markets in power generation, commercial cooling, vehicles and Mexico remain to be served.
New transmission capacity. Alleviation of bottlenecks, new capacity, improved access to major basins and increased Canadian exports has further integrated the North American market and shifted the focus of transmission companies to managing under-utilized pipeline capacity.
Storage and futures. Traditional seasonal price patterns are being redefined by increased working-gas storage volumes and growing prominence of the futures market. As markets continue to tighten, the role of storage in buffering price shocks will become increasingly important.
FERC Order 636. The most sweeping regulatory changes since 1985, this order creates two commodities, natural gas and transmission capacity. It reduces customers' need to use interruptible transportation, places greater cost pressures and risk on distribution companies and end-users, and creates new opportunities for gas merchants. This offers strategic opportunities for gas marketers, brokers, producers and other middlemen to provide new, re-bundled services.
Rig activity. Gas exploration and development rig activity dropped to 250 rigs during March 1992, but is now increasing as the year-end deadline for tax-incentive drilling approaches. Gas demand is projected to increase, no one we've heard of foresees a decrease in usage, neither onshore or offshore rig activity is expected to increase significantly in the near future, and recent gas development activity simply is not enough to replace production or reserves.
Reserves. U.S. proved reserves in the lower 48 increased slightly to 160 Tcf from 1989 to 1990. Total natural gas production has increased to almost 17 Tcf, which helped keep the reserves-to-production ratio (R/P) flat at 9.5 years.
Reserve replacement by the top 40 reserve-holding companies declined in 1991. For 1990, they replaced 105% of production by reserve additions exclusive of net acquisitions. By the end of 1991, this fell to 72% of production. The decline is indicative of persistent low prices. Many producers have chosen to delay or cancel E&P gas projects and shift emphasis to oil or international developments until prices recover.
For 1990, average replacement rate by the top 20 reserve-holding companies rose to 108% of production and the second 20 had a replacement rate of 95%, excluding net acquisitions. During 1991 average replacement rates fell to 69 and 85%, respectively.
Bottomhole assemblies: Getting back to basics
Thomas R. Wright, Jr., Editor
Operators all over the world are engineering their own crooked holes and drillstring failures, according to drilling consultant, Roy L. Dudman of Houston, by ignoring what's been known for years about drillstrings and bottomhole assemblies (BHAs). The basics are that steel does not accumulate fatigue unless overworked, and that the correct packed hole assembly will drill a straight, useable hole, free of doglegs, keyseats, offsets and spiraling.
Dudman feels that drilling a crooked hole is inexcusable and recommends using a packed hole assembly consisting of three zones of stabilization provided by large-diameter, short drill collars and a 30-ft, large-OD collar. Multiple stabilizers/reamers are used in Zone 1 (see accompanying drawing), depending upon a formation's crooked hole tendency and abrasiveness. When any other type of BHA is used, Dudman says a directional drilling expert should be employed.
Stabilizers above a packed hole or packed pendulum assembly only prevent differential sticking and drill collar wear. Large-OD collars with a bending strength ratio greater than 2.5:1 are the best tool for controlling hole deviation, minimizing connection failure and providing useable weight on bit (WOB). Large, stiff collars centralized directly above the bit tend to overpower the crooked hole tendencies of the formation. Weight, stiffness and stabilizer clearance determine the ability of a packed hole assembly to control deviation.
Small, limber collars increase a packed hole assembly's tendency to deviate and reduce the restoring force of a pendulum assembly. Small collars also contribute to drill collar whirl between the bit and the first stabilizer, and between stabilizers. The smaller the collars and the longer the length between points of centralization, the greater the effect of buckling and high rpm. Collar whirl and vibration resulting from high-stress-level drillstrings and a poorly designed BHA increases the accumulation of fatigue and the rapid destruction of drillstring components.
Low-stress-level drillstrings designed for 12 1/4-in. and larger holes have experienced no reported failures during the past five years. Low-stress-level pin-up drillstrings for smaller hole sizes have been used in over 300 near-vertical, extended-reach and horizontal hole sections to depths exceeding 24,000 ft without connection or tube failure. The larger-than-normal sizes provided by these drillstrings increase weight and stiffness to control deviation, increase torsional/tensile strength to minimize failures and increase bore size to reduce pressure loss.
Campaign Against Adulterators To Go On
We must admit to some surprise when we ran across the above headline in Progress, a monthly publication of Pakistan Petroleum Ltd. But we won't admit to the vision that came to mind until we read further. Alas, it seems the story was about certain petroleum products dealers who were either "watering down" or otherwise altering fuels to reap extra profits.
Speaking of headlines, here's one we wish we had thought of: "Half of the City Council (insert U.S. Congress, if you like) Are Crooks." It seems that the local paper, under threat of a libel suit, decided to capitulate and ran the following headline in the next issue: "Half of the City Council Aren't Crooks." (We thank our friends at The Montana Oil Journal for this item.)
The MOJ also ran this jewel in a recent issue: Said an irate roughneck to the Casper waitress, "This chicken is only half cooked. Take it back to the cook and tell him where he can shove it."
Replied the bored waitress, "Sorry sir, but there are three T-bones and a Bell Pepper in front of you."
E&P success hinges on good data management
J.V. (Jack) Cowan, Contributing Editor
Success of E&P operations is directly dependent on availability of quality data needed for analysis processes. Organizations that systematize data management procedures benefit most by being able to readily integrate E&P data into powerful computer applications.
We often hear the 80/20 rule applied to computer analyses, "80% of a professional's time is needed for gathering and pre-processing data leaving only 20% for the analysis phase." Conoco reported at the recent SPE Petroleum Computer Conference that proper data management can halve data collection and preparation time therein doubling the time available for analysis. This requires identifying, organizing and cataloging available data items into a computer database.
A Conoco data management task force found that over 10 million technical data items (seismic and well data, internal studies, reports and published works) were in current use throughout the company. They discovered that 90% of data, accumulated over 30 plus years, were in hard copy form, stacked in boxes, bins and cabinets in record rooms and warehouses, and significant efforts were needed to organize and reshelve materials as the catalog database was built.
Conoco estimates the total value of technical data, based on replacement costs, to be $2.8 billion. They have spent about $5.5 million in cataloguing 2 million data items with $20 to $25 million expenditure required to catalog all 10 million items. Per item cataloging costs, which includes organizing and reshelving, ranged from $1 for seismic, well logs, maps and externally published works to $4 for internally generated reports and studies.
Texaco Latin America/West Africa (Coral Gables, Fla.) began a data management project in 1989 to satisfy needs for an exploration database of graphic design files (maps, cross sections, digitized electric logs, montages, etc.) and a hard copy filing system. No method existed at that time for sharing computer files or data inventories among offices in the U.S., West Africa and Latin America.
Other problems with their data management included misfiling, tracking checked out data, inventory of off-site storage in Houston and New Orleans warehouses, knowing what data is available, readily integrating data into computer applications, etc. To resolve these problems, they worked with Data General Corp. (Atlanta, Ga.) and developed TEXDIS (Total Exploration and Data Inventory System).
With a fully populated database, TEXDIS enables explorationists to rapidly review, graphically and textually, all hard-copy data available for any area of interest. Clicking upon screen objects (wells, seismic lines, etc.) retrieves a list of all related documents (logs, reports, seismic sections, etc.) or digital data in the system. These data can be processed via ported applications programs (gridding, contouring, multi-dimensional analyses of seismic horizon data, fault analyses, drilling analyses, production test analyses, etc.). TEXDIS also links to external proprietary and commercial databases.
TEXDIS has been used by Texaco LA/WA in many international exploration projects. Networked workstation versions of this open system can be distributed to international field offices and tied to remote database servers.
The system provides for updating associated databases to keep them current. The Librarian segment uses bar-code scanners to support filing, check-in, check-out, and document tracking features. Optical disk libraries store images (documents, logs, maps, etc.). Based on experience, Texaco LA/WA estimates it cost one-quarter to one-half percent of the acquisition expense of a data item to process and load it into TEXDIS.
The TEXDIS software package consists of the TEXDIS shell, available from Data General and is priced from $25,000 for a 5 user system to $55,000 for a 30 user system. VORTEXT GIS and spatial data management software from Aangstrom Precision Corp., Mt. Pleasant, Michigan is priced from $100,000 for 5 users to $405,000 for 30 users and ORACLE database software used for textual data management lists from $50,000 to $90,000. The rest of the TEXDIS hardware/software platform uses a UNIX workstation/server such as DG's AViiON, OSF/MOTIF and X-WINDOWS GUI's plus TCP/IP for networking.
Other items needed to make the system fully functional include textual and raster scanners (color or black and white), bar-coding devices and digitizing/plotting equipment. TEXDIS provides transparent system interfaces for these devices.
Impressive benefits come to those using solid data management techniques that provide rapid integration of data into computer analysis applications and insure all data relevant to a project are fully exploited.
<#FROWN:E34\>
Fountains: Sweet Music
by Lee Steedle
Potters who are looking for compelling items to pull customers toward their displays might well consider fountains designed for indoor or garden use. By attracting attention with sound and motion, fountains go a long way toward selling themselves in showrooms or display booths. Plus, they command prices considerably higher than any but the most artistic pots.
Unlike commissioned fountains, which may require protracted negotiations with architects and owners, or need special plumbing and wiring, small fountains are assembled with off-the-shelf-pumps and tubing, and their profitability makes them attractive to galleries, retail craft stores and up-scale garden supply stores. Fountains considered 'small' are those customers can carry out of a salesroom, then easily reassemble themselves.
There is real satisfaction in creating a fountain that functions as you'd hoped - lively water, bright sounds, no spills. Chinese and Japanese garden designers discovered long ago that the aesthetics of running water are greatly enhanced when it flows into a rock hollow, magnifying the sound. This same resonance can be created with a ceramic or stone base that closely confines the water at the place where it has fallen.
For indoor fountains, there are just a few 'musts': they must be vitreous to ensure water impermeability; they must not spray or splash beyond their rims; and they must be of reasonably compact design.
To be sold successfully, indoor fountains also have a few 'shoulds': water flow should be pleasingly visible and emit musical, tumbling sounds; water capacity should be fairly limited; pump operation should be inaudible; and design should harmonize well with intended surroundings.
Design constraints for outdoor fountains are fewer in number, once the location of an electrical source has been resolved. A wall-mounted fountain is often the simplest design, requiring only a ceramic fountainhead and a lower base connected by unobtrusive plastic or copper tubing. Yet a wall setting also presents considerable opportunity for creativity. The fountain back, often of handmade tiles, can include multiple water outlets, splash pockets, lights and sculptured relief. As long as too much splashing and water loss are avoided, a certain amount of misting is actually desirable in garden fountains, because water-loving plants such as mosses and ferns thrive in a moist setting, and their greenery suggests coolness and refreshment. Care must be taken, however, to protect the pump's inlet from clogging with the leaves, grass clippings and wind-blown dirt that inevitably settle into the basin of any garden fountain. And, when installed in cold climates, outdoor fountain pumps should be readily accessible for easy end-of-season disassembly, to avoid ice damaging their seals.
Although endless variety in ceramic fountain designs is possible, their mechanical parts are usually quite similar. These include a recirculating pump, plastic or copper tubing, clamps to tighten them securely together, and an adjustable clamp with which to regulate the water flow.
Small-capacitiy, submersible pumps are permanently sealed against water leakage; they are available in capacities ranging from about 80 to 680 gallons per hour (gph). A pump's gph capacity rating can be misleading, however, because this varies in actuality with the height to which water must be lifted. A 120-gph capacity at a height of 1 foot, quickly drops to 70 gph at 3 feet, for example. The smallest sizes generally provide adequate flow for most fountains.
Major pump manufacturers include Beckett Company, Dallas; Little Giant Pump Company, Oklahoma City; and Dayton Electric Manufacturing Company, Chicago. Their units are available nationally through distributors and hardware stores, farm and garden supply retailers.
Fortunately for fountain designers, these pumps are small enough in size to be easily concealed somewhere within a fountain's lower water chamber. One of the most popular models measures only 3 1/2x2 1/2x2 3/4 inches and, if purchased singly, costs less than $40, with quantity discounts available.
Craftspeople make fountains for a wide variety of reasons. In the beginning, some designs will probably be failures, whose fate will be to end in shards, or to sit in dark, ignominious disgrace beneath workbenches as reproachful reminders of ideas badly conceived. However well-intended their design, their common failings are unexpected mistings, splashing and tuneless sounds resembling open faucets or running toilets. Design mis-adventures like these seem an inevitable part of the process of developing trouble-free fountains.
Among the most successful fountain makers on a production scale is Robert Compton, a Bristol, Vermont, potter, who now concentrates chiefly on fountains. He works out of an old dairy barn on the farmstead he shares with his wife Christine, a weaver, who is also his business partner. They make and market a half-dozen basic fountain designs in a wide range of sizes, for both garden and indoor use. The median retail price is about $1600.
Although most Compton fountains are hand thrown and altered, a winch and 40-foot overhead I-beam, which runs nearly the length of the work area, help to reduce the labor involved in handling massive molds for slip-cast designs. The majority of these are vertical, multitier units, made of a dense, grogged clay fired to Cone 10, usually glazed.
Optional features for their indoor models are circular and half-moon 'Moisture Guards,' which are pie slice-shaped tiles with upward curving outer lips that assemble snugly around the fountain bases. These guards eliminate the problem of misting, and enable owners to place their fountains on carpets and wooden floors.
A knowledgeable marketer as well as a craftsman, Compton maintains computerized customer records and prospect lists, and promotes with a 12-page, full-color catalog. He sells through galleries nationally, as well as from the shop, but tries to limit sales to galleries he knows will replenish evaporated water regularly and will maintain cleanliness when fountains are run continuously.
Compton says: "To be well displayed, fountains need visual room. The galleries that do best understand that fountains add liveliness, energy, movement and sound to their showrooms, and space them accordingly."
Katherine Pearson of Cherry Brook Potters, Canton Center, Connecticut, has concentrated on fountains resembling naturally rounded stones. In 1978, she "started to fool around with an idea of stones and waterfall. It took about three years to design and figure out the engineering, then in 1983 I put a copyright on them and started to market them."
Her basic self-contained fountain has water tumbling gently and musically over about ten stones within an upper basin, after which the water quietly disappears into a lower basin and recirculates. To further the motif, she provides each unit with additional ceramic stones to be placed outside the fountain to give the assemblage a sense of the outdoors.
Pearson's white porcelain fountains are cast in large molds, dried slowly, then sanded to create a stonelike surface. They are then fired to Cone 6 in an electric kiln, after which their interiors are given a Cone 6 to 10 clear glaze, and fired to Cone 7.
Her stoneware fountains start as slabs of well-grogged clay that are 'persuaded' into two halves of heavy plaster molds. The halves are joined, and allowed to stand overnight. After removal, much hand work is required to smooth the exterior and finalize the form.
Following a Cone 06 bisque firing, the interior is coated with an Albany slip glaze, and the exterior is sprayed with iron oxide and manganese stain. These fountains are then reduction fired to Cone 9 in a gas kiln, which renders natural coloration ranging from black/brown to a rich black, and allows the clay to display its inherent stonelike quality.
Pearson's self-contained waterfall fountains, which rely as much on their pleasant sounds as on their visual appeal, are quite small. Most are between 12 and 19 inches long, and some are just 7 1/2 inches high. They retail from $430 $630 at craft galleries and shops nationwide.
While fountains can be great fun to design, quite profitable to sell and attention-getters for ceramics displays, it is vitally important to have trouble-free designs. Customer complaints about misting, pump noise or water clogging can prove an unwanted problem for gallery owners, and an expense for the fountain maker.
Rober Compton summarizes the aesthetic requirements very well when he says: "A fountain is not like an open faucet. Just making a piece that water runs through is not making a fountain. While the pleasing sight is important, you must also have the musical sounds of tumbling water. For this reason, we have discarded many more fountain designs than we have marketed."
Individual fountain makers develop their own solutions to design limitations. But I'll conclude with a few solutions that have worked well for me: Vibration suppression can generally be achieved by placing a 1/4-inch Styrofoam pad beneath the pump, and by gluing felt cushions under the lower bowl. Larger wall fountains may be made from sequentially-mounted elements that catch the falling water then pass it down. And resonance enhancement can result from building a ceramic baffle into a fountain's lower bowl to tightly confine the area into which the water tumbles.
Politically Correct Pots
by Brad Sondahl
Is pottery political? Musician Frank Zappa once said that everything you wear is your uniform. Stretching the analogy, if your pottery is apolitical, perhaps this merely reflects your personal politics. Has pottery been political? I think about the ruckus caused by Judy Chicago's 'Dinner Party,' and know that it has. Is pottery subject to the current trend of political correctness? Ponder lightly and read on.
Since everything else in life is subject to standards of political correctness, from grocery bags to dorm room doors, let's consider whether pottery meets today's high standards of behavior. When I began 'doing' pottery in the early '70s, there was no question that it was the right thing to do. After all, at about that time Ceramics Monthly began printing in full color. If that's not evidence of a mass movement, I don't know what is. Pottery was then clearly a direct counterpoint to the prevalent military-industrial complex that afflicted the psyche of our country. To avoid contracting that disease, I would retire to a kick wheel and think peaceful thoughts.
I knew back in college that pottery was more politically correct than the other arts, because it didn't require any models sitting around naked. This, and the 'elite'-ist tendencies of art, convinced me that art was politically incorrect, and prompted my final art production, a happening called 'Art as a Bourgeois Sham.' In the current language of - ists and - isms for every occasion, this clearly labels me an 'art'-ist (despite and because of my attempts to disavow it) and a non-'nude'-ist (as I am obviously a prudist).
Getting back to my historical critique, I moved into a chicken coop and tepee with another potter, and learned how to live righteously, scraping along with scrap clay, used kilns and a big garden. Living close to the earth was synonymous with making pottery then, especially since the pottery studio had a dirt floor. This was the good life, although Minnesota winters are justly famous for wearing down good-lifers. We lasted several years before moving on to other possibilities.
By the eighties, the age of greed took its toll among the ranks of potters who wanted to have some semblance of financial security in addition to their good life and political correctness. Teaching became an attractive second career option, and the ones who remained in the ranks split between those emphasizing production and those capitalizing on artistic quality and uniqueness. At the same time, living close to the earth was beginning to suggest silicosis from long-term occupational exposure. Meanwhile, glaze leachates implied potential government regulation and skittish consumers, while leftover glaze chemicals and pottery wastes became not so environmentally correct (and even glossy pottery magazines posed a problem for recyclers).
In the light of all these environmental considerations (which potters have tended to know about, but chosen to continue anyway), suddenly the politically correct choice lies in the route of less consumption, since materials processing and usage both denote (to some degree) environmental degradation. Even the earthy wood or salt kilns, and reduction firing in general, represent greater environmental degradation than sane-but-bland electric kilns.
<#FROWN:E35\>
Double the size, quadruple the fun
After the Hillsborough, California, family grew from two to six, they commissioned a remodeling to make their Tudor house not only twice as big but newly, thrillingly modern
BY JODY THOMPSON-KENNEDY
FROM THE STREET, ONLY A hint of color - the rosy wall - tells passersby that something unusual may lie within. Otherwise, the Tudor Revival house fits politely into the prosperous, tree-lined northern California enclave. But step through the gate in that wall and you are in for a most agreeable culture shock. Inside is the kind of contemporary space, light, architectural color and interplay of forms that are rarely, if ever, found behind such a polite facade.
Until two years ago, the house had looked the same for fifty years - conventionally gabled and dormered, with dark, confining rooms and not enough of them. During a decade of ownership, the couple (he is a San Francisco physician) had four children and needed space for them to live and work and play, and they also felt a need for the kind of private retreat all parents come to long for.
Enter House+House, the San Francisco-based firm that would make the transformation. Avid fans of modern architecture and collectors of architect-designed furniture, the owners had seen a house designed by Steven and Cathi House, a husband-and-wife architectural team, and immediately called on the pair to view their very unmodern Tudor. "The house had very little going for it other than its original U-shaped plan encompassing a lawn," recalls Steven. But the clients had mentioned that they liked courtyards.
Over a period of eighteen months, House+House more than doubled the size of the house by adding a living-dining wing to completely surround the lawn. A new interior corridor - "the kids use it like an indoor track," says their mother - links the downstairs rooms to each other and the courtyard. An upstairs master suite includes a huge bathroom that is as big as the bedroom and comes complete with a cylindrical, neon-lit shower nook that can hold the whole clan.
One of the homeowners' major directives to the architects was to make the kitchen the 'command center' of the house. This is where the action is morning and night and where guests like to congregate. "It had to be more than just large - it had to be efficient and functional. The owner wanted more than one person to be able to cook at one time," Cathi House says. Designed like a city, with a hub, cabinets that look like a skyline, and an easy, circular traffic pattern, the kitchen features polished black granite work counters that can also seat up to eight. There are two dishwashers, a professional stove and a second pint-sized refrigerator just for the kids.
The kitchen links the breakfast 'nook' (actually a tall, dramatic half-round space lined with windows) with a new family area (not shown) underneath the master suite, but its function as a people magnet continues to amaze the owners. Although there are now over 5,000 square feet in the house plus 1,300 in the courtyard, at a recent party about fifty people preferred to be in the kitchen-family space.
Although the newness of the massive remodeling is beginning to wear off after a year, the couple report that the excitement has not.
Designed with TLC
ln Washington, D.C., a handful of decorators use color, wit and imagination to create a haven for youngsters with AlDS
BY LISA DePAULO
IT ALL STARTED WITH A WOMAN who rang the bell and identified herself only as Albina. "We didn't know who she was," says Joan McCarley, cofounder of Washington's 'Grandma's House,' the first home in the country for children with AIDS. "But you should always entertain strangers as though they were angels."
This one was. She reappeared one day with $325,000. Cash. And asked Joan McCarley to please buy another house for the children. "We never dreamed she was a countess," says McCarley.
Albina, the countess du Boisrouvray, had an only son who died at the age of 24 in a helicopter crash. Since then she has sold off $50 million worth of jewels to finance 'living memorials' to him all over the world. Her gift to Washington, the Fran<*_>c-cedille<*/>ois-Xavier Bagnoud House (named after him), came complete with a blank check to cover the operating costs, including staff salaries, "forever," says McCarley.
"It was pretty inspiring," says Joseph Paul Davis, a Washington decorator who was volunteering at one of the four existing Grandma's Houses when the mystery countess delivered her gift. It moved him to do something grand.
He corralled fourteen of his colleagues, and each of them selected a room in the new FXE House (a DIFFA project), planned for children from deprived backgrounds who are five to ten years old and infected with the HIV virus. The decorators were to design the kind of environment "that to a sick child who lay in bed," says Joan McCarley "would be inspiring."
Trish Cavallaro and Jonathan Mclntyre took the entrance foyer, dipped their hands in paint and left handprints over every inch of wall. The pattern leads all the way up to the second-floor bedrooms. In the living room, Mary Drysdale stenciled birds, stars and swirls on lemon-colored walls. Larger-than-life crayons lean against the tiled fireplace, and a kitschy pair of dinosaurs stand at each end of the mantel. But most amusing is Drysdale's play table with chairs - painted to resemble a sky and four clouds.
Amy Cornell was asked to do a dining room that would accommodate big family meals. She started with a Niermann Weeks table and sideboard. But the whimsy of the room is their chandelier - an iron fixture dripping with strands of crystal 'hard candies.'
Nothing was left untouched - from the back porch with its 'designer recycling bins' to the kitchen floor, tiled like an argyle sock.
But in the bedrooms the decorators really let loose. One room is an ocean with waves up near the ceiling. Another room is a circus, its ceiling like the inside of a tent, in carnival blues and yellows. And farther down the hall it's a jungle in the room by designer Gary Lovejoy and painter Kay Jones. You can't miss the elephant with teal-striped tusks on the wall behind the twin beds. A steel 'vine' crawls around a window, and a stuffed monkey crawls on it, waiting to be hugged.
Golden-oldie reproductions
Copies of rare antiques are now antiques too
BY MITCHELL OWENS
AS TIME PASSES, WE SEE THE reproductions of one period becoming the antiques of the next. Ancient Roman sculptures are usually copies of Greek originals, after all. Today, as choice antiques become scarcer and more expensive, canny designers and connoisseurs are seeking out furniture made in the late 19th and early 20th centuries that replicates an earlier style. Collecting and using these old copies is popular today for three good reasons: fine craftsmanship, availability and sensible prices.
The head of Sotheby's 19th-century furniture department, Elaine Whitmire, sells many older reproductions, though she prefers to call them "copies after the original." Semantic niceties aside, a turn-of-the-century copy can be as beautifully crafted as a 300-year-old original - and just as convincing. There is an additional attraction: the United States Customs Service defines an antique as any object certified to be more than 100 years old, so many of these older copies have now been around long enough to qualify for that duty-free status. If they were ever dismissed as fakes or as secondhand, they are now prized objects.
Rod Kreitzer, president of Baker Furniture in Grand Rapids, Michigan, not only presides over a company that has manufactured fine reproductions for American homes for generations, but he also collects the older variety for the company's museum, a few of whose pieces were made by Baker in the first half of this century. These older reproductions also serve as research material for the company's craftsmen. But Kreitzer notes a critical difference between earlier reproductions and those made today. Although the construction and carving of today's copies continue to involve a great deal of specialized handwork, their usual high-luster finish, which some decorators and potential purchasers object to, is the result of labor saving and a public demand for indestructibility.
"For a good part of this century, new furniture was still given a traditional hand-padded shellac finish," Kreitzer explains. "This darkens and becomes even more luminous as it ages." But hand-padding, which builds a finish slowly, layer by layer, is costly and is also easily marred in casual daily use. Soon after the Second World War the hand-padded shellac finish was abandoned by the industry for a quick-drying, spray-on nitrocellulose lacquer. The result was a glassy, uniform finish that remains the industry standard.
"Today's average customer wants a high luster," says Baker's Kreitzer, and he cites consumer polls and strong sales figures to prove it. Yet he feels a lingering nostalgia for the days of the shellac finish. "If you want real character," he says, "the human hand is vital."
Custom applications that approximate the low-luster glow of hand-rubbed shellac have been available in several degrees of sheen for some years, and some people cut the shine of modern reproduction by rubbing it down or refinishing the piece entirely. Other seekers of reproductions who object to a sprayed-on finish look for the older kind.
The instigator of the first important reproduction-furniture boom was a woman of beauty, taste and style. She was Eugenie Montijo de Guzman, empress of France. In the 1850s, stung by gossip about her non-royal birth and saddled with a number of half-empty palaces in dire need of redecoration, the Scottish-Spanish bride of Napoleon III chose to emulate the sophistication of the ancien rgime. She took Marie Antoinette rather than Josephine as her role model. Overnight the new Louis Seize-lmpratrice style took hold in Parisian salons as the Bonaparte courtiers followed the redheaded empress's example and began filling their homes with precise copies of regal Louis XVI French antiques. At a time when first Empire opulence was the norm, Eugenie's neoclassical elegance was a breath of fresh air that would make its way to England and America by the 1890s.
The finest cabinetmakers of this period (among them Ferdinand Barbedienne, Guillaume Groh and Louis-Auguste-Alfred Beurdeley in France, Edwards & Roberts in England, and Julius von Zwiener in Germany) were sticklers for authenticity. In fact, their creations were so cunningly accurate that they continue to fool the experts. At the Victoria & Albert Museum, for example, a Louis XVI satinwood occasional table was discovered not so long ago to be a circa 1860 copy by the London cabinetmaker Donald Ross. The curators decided that the table was just too beautiful to put into storage; instead, they moved it into a place of honor as an example of a fine Victorian reproduction.
High-caliber reproductions don't come cheaply, but they are infinitely more affordable than the real thing. "Beurdeley is my personal favorite," says Sotheby's Elaine Whitmire. "He copied eighteenth-century pieces to perfection. Now an exquisite museum-quality console by Weisweiller, one of the greatest eighteenth-century bnistes, will cost $500,000, but you can find an equally fine Beurdeley modeled after it for around $200,000."
Matthew Sturtevant, head of furniture at Christie's East, prefers the more aggressively rococo work of Fran<*_>c-cedille<*/>ois Linke, a Czech-born Frenchman who was active from 1882 to 1935. Arguably the finest cabinetmaker of his generation, Linke was so adept a copier that in the book 19th Century European Furniture, historian Christopher Payne writes: "The mind boggles at what Linke would have been able to achieve had he been working for the Court of Versailles over 150 years earlier." Linke's astonishing creations, however, still bring less than they should on the open market (good news for the shopper). For example, a swaggering Linke bureau plat sold last September at New York's William Doyle Galleries for $29,000 - a bargain when compared with the catalogue estimate of $40,000 to $60,000.
Impressive bargains can also be found in furniture made in the next important reproduction era, which lasted from about 1890 to the beginning of the First World War.
<#FROWN:E36\>
CRAZY FOR YOU
This new musical, based loosely on the 1930 Girl Crazy, features the timeless songs of George and Ira Gershwin
by Sheryl Flatow
IN 1934 George Gershwin went on a 28-city concert tour of America, which included a stop in Cincinnati. Following a performance in that city he wound up at a party in the home of a local musician where, characteristically, he entertained at the piano. Among those who heard him play his Second Piano Prelude and various songs was Roger Horchow, six-year-old son of the host and hostess. For young Horchow the melody lingered on.
He became a serious collector of the composer's work, and as he got older, he made a promise to himself that he would one day produce a musical on Broadway featuring a Gershwin score. So it's fair to say that a chance encounter more than a half-century ago was the impetus for Crazy for You, a new musical comedy featuring the timeless songs of George and Ira Gershwin.
Crazy for You, a show in which you go in humming the tunes, stars Harry Groener (Oklahoma!, Cats) and Jodi Benson (voice of the title character in the movie The Little Mermaid). It is written by Ken Ludwig (Lend Me a Tenor), directed by Mike Ockrent (Me and My Girl) and choreographed by Susan Stroman (And the World Goes 'Round - The Songs of Kander & Ebb) and was inspired, very loosely, by the 1930 Gershwin musical Girl Crazy. That show is fondly remembered today for its captivating score, an ingenue named Ginger Rogers (who introduced 'But Not for Me' and 'Embraceable You') and the debut of a dynamo named Ethel Merman, whose stardom was assured when she held a note for 16 bars during 'I Got Rhythm' to the delight of a delirious audience.
"Originally we thought we were going to do a revised version of Girl Crazy," says Ken Ludwig. "But we read the book, and it was terrible. It was made up of skits and had all these stereotypes. So we threw the book out completely."
All that is left from Girl Crazy are four great songs (the fourth is 'Bidin' My Time'), a relatively unknown song ('Could You Use Me?') and the germ of an idea: An Easterner goes to a little Western town.
Playwright Ken Ludwig and director Mike Ockrent worked closely in constructing the new story line, which they then adapted as they went through the Gershwin catalogue in search of the right song for the right moment. Then Ludwig wrote the book, which rises and falls largely on the ability of its leading man to deliver a tour de force performance. The role requires impeccable comic timing, effortless dancing and an abundance of charm.
"Harry Groener was exactly what we were looking for," says Ockrent. "I realized it when I saw him in the Pasadena Playhouse, where he was doing Cole Porter's You Never Know. Then he came and auditioned for us. The process of auditioning is waiting for the moment when that person walks into the room, and you know that's it. That's what happened with Harry and also with Jodi Benson."
Ludwig describes the feel of the show as "Me and My Girl meets Lend Me a Tenor." Crazy for You is filled with snappy one-liners, old jokes, sight gags, pratfalls and the inspired fun and giddiness of both those shows. The notion of mistaken identity, so crucial to Lend Me a Tenor, is also intrinsic to the plot of Crazy for You. "I love the idea of mistaken identity and confusion, the kind of muscular comedy that springs off the stage," says Ludwig. "It is so rooted in the English, American and French history of high comedy, and it's the tradition that I want to work in. It makes me want to be in the theatre. I'm sure I will return to that idea in a lot of my plays, although not in the same way. The other thing I've come back to is the nebbishy guy flowering, and that's a theme I expect I'll always write about. Renewal is something I care about, and this show is about renewal."
This is not to suggest that Ludwig and Ockrent have simply reworked their hit shows and wrapped them into one neat, recycled package. Crazy for You is anchored in the black-and-white 1930's musicals made by Warner Brothers, MGM and RKO, reinventing them from a 1990's perspective. It calls to mind Ruby Keeler dancing on a taxi in 42nd Street, Mickey and Judy putting on a show, and Busby Berkeley routines. The musical also features a Ziegfeld-like impresario (Bruce Adler) and the inevitable chorus girls. Adding to the fun is some subtle-but-pointed humor aimed at a few well-known contemporary musicals.
Mostly, though, Crazy for You harkens back to the incandescent movies of Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers: Boys meets girl and falls instantly in love with her, girl falls in love with boy after dancing with him, boy unwittingly makes a mess of things and loses girl, boy and girl dance off happily together.
"I was very much trying to capture a Fred-and-Ginger style in the show," says Ludwig. "Their movies influenced me as much as anything else. When the script is published, the first time that our leads dance together my stage directions will probably say: 'They take off like Fred and Ginger.'"
If the plot and the tone of the show seem to particularly suggest Shall We Dance, the only Astaire-Rogers movie written by the Gershwins, Ockrent says it is not a coincidence.
"For me the key number in our show is 'Shall We Dance?' It's the big romantic dance number in act one, the one in which our leads fall in love."
The songs, which are the raison d'etre for the show, bind the musical together. The Gershwin estate gave the production access to its entire library, and a score was compiled that consists of mostly standards, with a few lesser-known songs (and one totally unknown) added to the mixture. Included are several numbers that were introduced by Astaire, such as 'They Can't Take That Away from Me' and 'Slap That Bass' (from Shall We Dance) and 'Nice Work If You Can Get It,' 'I Can't Be Bothered Now' and 'Things Are Looking Up' (from A Damsel in Distress).
One of the most crucial decisions in the evolution of the show was to determine the sound that best suited the material: Was a thirties sound appropriate, or should something different be attempted? (Girl Crazy, orchestrated by Robert Russel Bennett, was known for its swing sound, and its pit musicians included Glenn Miller, Benny Goodman, Jimmy Dorsey and Gene Krupa.)
"We decided we didn't want to do it as a 1930's museum piece," says music director Paul Gemignani. "That's boring. Instead we kept the period in mind, used what we know about orchestra writing today, added a love of Gershwin and put it together. It's a 1990's impression of a thirties sound."
William Brohn, the show's orchestrator, says, "We had to take into account the fact that audiences really expect more opulence from an orchestra today. But we didn't want to create a glitzy sound. The music is too great to distort like that. The orchestrations are really a reflection of the whole musical: the way the thirties look to our eyes and ears."
Brohn also incorporates bits of Gershwin melodies not used in the show: Listen closely, for instance, to 'Someone to Watch Over Me,' and you'll hear a few bars from the Concerto in F at the beginning and end of the song. "Bill's done a very creative job with the orchestrations," Gemignani notes, "because it's very difficult to take music we all know and make it into something that is inventive and fresh."
If the music is the heart of Crazy for You, then the piano is its soul. It has often been said of Gershwin that he was happiest when entertaining at the keyboard. He was a remarkable pianist, whose dazzling improvisations were a source of wonder. "Robert Russell Bennett once told me that Gershwin was possessed when he was at the piano," says Brohn. "Russell believed in spirits and said he really thought that Gershwin became another being at the piano. So for me the piano represents the spirit of Gershwin. I used it with that in mind, as if his ghost just peeked out of the orchestra pit, nodded and smiled."
That's somehow fitting for a show set in motion all those years ago in Cincinnati, when George Gershwin worked his magic at a piano and cast a spell over a listener who remains bewitched by his music. Everyone involved in Crazy for You is eager to spread that enchantment.
JUMPIN' JORDAN
by Sheridan Morley
The story of Five Guys Named Moe is essentially the story of one guy named Louis Jordan and another named Clarke Peters. Let's start with Mr. Peters. A New York actor long a resident in Britain, he grew up in an apartment 14 floors above the intersection of 155th Street and Amsterdam in the very heart of Harlem:
"Cats like Louis Jordan were already coming to the end of their careers by then, the early 1950's. Even though they were the main influence for a lot of what came after them, they were being pushed to the back of the shelf by the rock and pop people.
"But radio was all we had for entertainment at that time, and those songs of his stayed in the dust of my memories - songs like 'Ain't Nobody Here But Us Chickens' and 'Saturday Night Fish Fry' and 'What's the Use of Getting Sober When You're Going to Get Drunk Again?' Every time I heard those songs I felt better, and I thought maybe they could have that effect on other people."
Peters left New York to study mime in Europe and came to London via Paris, where he tried to establish his own band. But his enthusiasm for Jordan met with blank stares from most of the British: "They thought he was the guy who starred in Gigi, maybe. His jazz just never seemed to have crossed the Atlantic."
So Peters carved out a distinguished non-jazz career in Britain. He was the first black actor to play Nathan Detroit when Guys and Dolls moved to the West End. He also played in Ma Rainey's Black Bottom and was a notable Othello at Greenwich. But all this time he kept thinking about the music of Louis Jordan, wondering if there was some way to bring it back to audiences:
"I always wanted this to be a stage piece, but not being a producer I had no real idea of how to go about it. I spent what little money I had buying up the rights from Jordan's estate in America, but I couldn't get any London producer to come in with me, so we finished up doing the show as a midnight cabaret at the National Theatre just for one night."
After that Peters, now in his early forties, spent three or four years trying to get Five Guys together. He had almost given up hope when the manager of a little theatre out in London's East End came up with the offer of a low-budget staging at the end of 1990:
"That's where the miracle happened: After we'd been playing about a week, Cameron Mackintosh came in one night to see us, and by intermission he'd bought the transfer rights to the West End, where the show has been playing for a year now to standing-room-only every single night."
At this point Mackintosh himself takes up the story:
"I'd known about this show for years because Clarke had mentioned it to me when he was first starting to work on the tryouts, but at that time I wasn't particularly interested in doing any show where I couldn't meet and work with the actual writer, so I turned it down.