Friday, November 27, 2015

A WOMAN CALLED JOY

IN MEMORIAM

Joy Hujsak
May, 1924 - December, 2010

THE YEAR OF THE DAISY

That was the year that daisies
All decided to perform flawlessly.
To help humanity along its faltering way.
Every one, its petals plucked
To rhythmic chants:
She loves me - she loves me not,
Would tell you that she loves you.
He loves me - he loves me not,
Would tell you that he loves you.

It was her favorite flower, you know.
Garlands framed the altar
Where we said our last good byes.

Now this lavender bloom,
Lifted from the roadside,
Has graced my table for a week.
Drawn into its lonely self at night,
It flares to fullness at daybreak
Atop a dime store, Ming inspired
Thin-stemmed porcelain vase.
I pluck its petals one by one.
She loves me - she loves me not.
She loves me - she loves me not.
………She loves me.

Sunday, November 22, 2015

DRAGONS

 Dear Sister, 
      Amazing, isn’t it, that here we are, conversing in real time, though our planets are thousands of light-years apart, due to a quantum tunneling effect I confess I will never understand. How lucky we are!
     Your litanies on the problems you face on Earth put me in mind that you are several centuries behind us, here on Tilsen. Such a long, hard road ahead. I sympathize, but humans being what they are, there are no short cuts. It seems that suffering is necessarily part of the game, else there is no basis for learning. The most important lessons are conservation and unity of purpose. We now waste nothing. Our massive landfills from previous times are all being mined.  Except for the Wedgies, who  still have much to learn, we are far along in both areas.
Of course there are problems here on Tilsen. It is not Paradise. Far from it. But who doesn’t have problems? Every day brings new surprises.
    I thought to tell you of my recent adventure. In retrospect it is somewhat amusing but at the time I was vexed, no end. In the last month I lost three guard peacocks, one after the other, overnight. A scattering of sparkling feathers like new blooms in the dawn light. That’s all. Normally they raise a real ruckus at the slightest sign of an intrusion.
     I decided I had to speak with my mentor. His name is Jack Hooper. He lives just over fifty kilometers east of here, a few minutes by hopjet Yes, everyone has a mentor here. It’s the law. You get assigned one in a drawing, and it was just my luck to get a contractor. Every time he comes by he circles this old place, looks up and down and into crawl spaces. You know what’s coming by the sight of a sliver of his tongue showing between his lips. “You got some repair jobs coming up, Jessica” I will try to imitate his speaking style - hardly follows the rules, but effective, nevertheless.
I know he is half joking, but he does keep this ancient building in remarkably good repair. It’s quite evident after all these years that Jack is soft on me, and I do enjoy his company - an informal relationship, never meant to go anywhere. But I’m getting off the subject.
    Well you have mentors too, don’t you? You have your priests, coaches, scoutmasters. psychiatrists, counselors.  The difference, I suppose, is that ours are one on one. With our mentors there is no remuneration involved. It’s somewhat like a marriage, but then again not like a marriage at all.
    Oh dear, I fear I’m not making any sense.
     So with the last dead peacock, or naked peacock running around somewhere, I asked Jack to swing by, leaving everything untouched.
     Jack showed up within an hour in his hopjet. I should have told him to land in the front courtyard. As it happened he landed in the back yard and the jets blew the peacock feathers all over the place. So much for leaving the evidence untouched.  He got out of the craft, looked about and seemed unfazed. It didn’t seem to bother him that the actual site of the deed was now obscure.
      After a while he neared the back fence where the ground is bare. He knelt down and peered closely at what appeared to be fresh animal tracks, He looked up at me.
     “Dragon tracks. You got dragons, Jessica.”

     “Me? I have dragons? You must be crazy.”
Jack said nothing, rose and walked to the fence. “See these slime lines? Them’s dragon spoor. Let’s go around, we’ll see where they lead..Most likely directly to the lake, I’d say. Not usual for these critters to come on land. They like the deep water.”
      Jack followed me to the house. He scraped his booted feet unnecessarily on the door mat and followed me across my study, down a long corridor to a side door that opened to an overhead trellised, bricked pathway adjoining the rear fence.
      To the rear of the house lies a  field of meer grass, something like your timothy, that slopes gradually down for a distance of a couple hundred meters to the lake shore. Lake Elena is big - about twenty kilometers long and two across. And deep. We walked toward the water, pausing to watch a diving bird pierce its surface.
We waited for it to emerge with its prize, but it did not reappear.
     Jack smiled. “They never learn. Dragons have to eat, too.”
     We followed a zig-zag line where the grass appeared to be trodden down. Then all became clear as we approached the muddy shore. Dragon tracks running in all directions..
      As we strolled back toward the house I asked, “What should I do, Jack?”  
    Jack stopped, drew a long flowering stalk of grass from its clump and nibbled at its tender end. “You can’t use peacocks no more. They freeze at the sight of a dragon. Can’t even make a sound. Can’t run away even. It’s like they’re paralyzed. You got to get yourself a couple of Con dogs. They’re not afraid of dragons. They won’t come around no more.”
      So to sum it up, my dear Sister, I am now in possession of two beautiful, big, intelligent, smooth Con dogs - a black and  white male and a white female. The female has taken a liking to me and is constantly at my feet. She will be my personal protector. The male, however, is content to patrol the property. Con dogs are so much friendlier than peacocks. Not as messy, either. As far as I can tell, there are no more dragons. There was a commotion one night, soon after I obtained the Con dogs, but there was no sign of a dragon having climbed the fence.
      A thought comes to me. I’ve not named them as yet. Would you like to name them?  I know you love dogs, and keep several, including three terriers. From your description, I fear that dragons would make short work of them You must have a long list of unused names. The images I send you may help in making your choices.
       Bravo and Brava? How clever you are! Bravo and Brava it will be.
      Do not get me wrong. my Sister. I want to hear about your problems. I just want you to know that we have problems too.
  I am waiting for more news from the Resurrection. It is on the return leg of its wanderings. It will be good to see my daughter, Gabrielle, again. As you know, her husband, Jonathan, is a junker, and makes periodic journeys to the region where planet Eden blew up. The space transfers are long and boring. But that does not ease my worries. The trips are also hazardous.
      Then again, as you say, “No news is good news.” I do hope that is true.

Wednesday, November 18, 2015

NEW WORLD II

Why had the prophets missed this,
the long moment of the great awakening?

Almost too late, the phenomenon of selflessness
replaced the dominance of avarice and greed.

It was the suffering that did it,
and the unexpected winter of the great die-off.

Now we know immortality is a shared experience,
the thread that runs from generation to generation.

In these happy lands rockets and submarines
lie buried at the bottom of the ocean.

Cathedrals, temples and mosques have been dismantled
to make homes for the weary.

Mecca and places like it are archeological curiosities
scattered beneath  the desert sands.

The Vatican is preserved.
We have made it a museum of false gods.

The labyrinths of Mars have revealed
the tenacity and fragility of life.

The internet has brought all people together.
Notions of class have been erased.

Evenings, when work is done, 
poets read their works to tell how things are.

Musicians arrive, unpack their instruments
and everyone dances.

- e hujsak


Sunday, November 15, 2015

THE FLOWER THAT BLOOMS

       
     “The flower that blooms in adversity is the most rare and beautiful of all.” 
This quote,  attributed  to a Chinese Emperor’s words of wisdom to a young girl may be familiar, as it appeared in the 1998 Walt Disney film, “Mulan” and alluded, in the film, to the plum tree blossom as an example.
Stated another way, “This flower blooms in adversity,” it becomes personalized, and can be a powerful expression of self assurance in the face of various attacks of disappointment, rejection, anger, failure, or soured disposition of any sort that is encompassed by the full range of human emotions.
In  a brief moment following a technical discussion in his office in the late 1950’s, General Dynamics colleague L.T. Cheung withdrew a Christmas  card from his desk drawer and showed it to me. It was from a close friend of his, then residing in China. His name was Dr. Qian Xuesen, known to his friends in America as simply, “Dr. Tsien.”  Its short message must have affected me profoundly, for I remember the event to this day, nearly 60 years later. It read simply: “This flower blooms in adversity.”
Dr. Tsien lived in the United states with his wife and two children during the 1940’s and early 1950’s. He met and married his opera singer wife here and his two children were born in the United States. He studied  and obtained his degrees at MIT.  An associate  of von Karman, he rose to be a prominent  rocket scientist in the United States. He taught at MIT and Cal Tech. and came to be highly respected and admired. With his colleagues at  Cal Tech, he founded the Jet Propulsion Laboratory where key propulsion technologies and rocket technology would  be advanced. They included Jet Assisted Takeoff  (JATO) for aircraft and  the WAC Corporal high altitude rocket, which  followed technology developed by the Germans in their V-2 rocket (The German rockets previously were developed  with technology introduced by American rocket pioneer Robert H. Goddard.).
In 1950, with the onset of the Second Red Scare, Dr. Tsien was accused of having communist sympathies. His clearance was revoked and he was interred on Terminal Island, while for five years he and his cohorts in academia, and indeed some members of the  Federal Government, fought for his vindication. Discouraged, in 1955 he was allowed to return to China. Rumors were of an exchange taking place for American pilots captured in the Korean war and held by the Chinese.
In China Dr. Tsien founded the Chinese missiles and rockets industry, which has grown over the years to a strong Chinese presence in space, made possible by several versions versions of the Long March space launch rocket. He also managed the development of the Dong feng ballistic missile. He was highly honored by the Chinese and lived comfortably to an old age. He died in 2009 after having experienced the satisfaction of  seeing Chinese astronauts working in space. and unmanned , China sponsored missions, to the moon. He was 97.

Quite a journey, from the day he penned “This flower blooms in adversity” so many years ago.

Wednesday, November 11, 2015

LIQUID NATURAL GAS SHIPS

It happened that at one point in my career I nearly became a shipbuilder. Not that I had any skills in that field, or was even interested in anything that plies the oceans.  There weren’t any shipbuilders or sea men in my family except for a sister, who was a WAVE during World War II. Not much of a legacy there.
Lloyd Bergerson, General Manager of the Quincy, MA. shipbuilding division of General Dynamics (GD) had a vision. The shipyard could be converted to build liquid natural gas (LNG) carriers for transporting LNG from places like the Middle East and Indonesia to industial nations in America, Europe, Asia and South America. LNG was already being shipped into nearby Boston from the Middle East.
Late in 1968, if I remember correctly, Lloyd requested my services to travel with him and several Quincy engineers to Norway, the purpose being to evaluate a ship the Norwegians were building in an Oslo shipyard and assess feasibility of building a similar design in the United States. Our counterparts in Oslo were helpful in describing the design and its operational characteristics. On the evening of the last day, we were  hosted at a dinner given by Mike Kroner, manager of the Oslo shipyard. Our driver to the restaurant was an immense Norwegian named Olaf. 
          As the evening wore on, we concluded with drinking and exchanging stories. Stocky Mike Kroner kept staring at me  from across the table. He finally asked, “Did you play football?” I said I didn’t  and he said, “I want to arm wrestle you.” I agreed, and announced to the gathering, “Gentlemen, we are about to determine for the first time, and possibly the last, whether the aerospacemen of California are tougher then the shipbuilders of Norway.” My earlier life as a logger and operating a dairy farm stood me in good stead and I put him down after a brief struggle. He was amazed and called to one of his men, “Go get Olaf;” Fortunately, Olaf was off on some errand and was nowhere to be found.
Returnng to my room at the the Bristol hotel, I spent several hours writing my report.  Later, I learned that it was on the strength of that report that Lloyd Bergerson received approval from GD headquarters to go ahead with the project. 
Bergerson offered me a job at Quincy, but I declined. He could have insisted, but a close friend and colleague, Alan Schuler,  a fine engineer, went in my place and did a superb job. His wife and daughters (both Mensa) didn’t much like the idea of moving to the East Coast. One daughter, Sherri Lightner,  is currently President of the San Diego City Council.  
In a matter of a few month Bergerson was fired and replaced by P. Takis Veliotis, who had approached GD Headquarters and made the case that he and his shipbuilding  crew from Canada should be hired to build the ships.
Veliotis rose to manage  two divisions,  Quincy and Electric Boat, where  nuclear submarines are built. He was given a top secret security clearance. He sat on the GD board  of directors and enjoyed lucrative executive compensation.
During the 1970’s ten enormous, beautiful, fast ships were built, each equipped with five, one-hundred twenty foot diameter insulated spherical containers.  All ships were sold into the Asian trade and served for many years before being decommissioned. Only one still remains in  service. 
The tenth ship was a hard sell, so the demand for ships was deemed by GD executives to have dried up. The Quincy shipyard was shut down and dismantled. 
Takis Veliotis was indicted by the Federal Government in 1982 for taking kickbacks from a supplier. General Dynamics moved to freeze his assets but success was questionable as he had transferred major investments, including GD shares  to Canada and sold them. He retired in 1983 and moved to his native country, Greece, to live out his life, presumably in luxury.
Just a few years later worldwide demand for LNG began to burgeon. Unloading facilities for LNG ships and regasification plants now exist in twenty-five countries. At the present time there are outstanding contracts for construction of ninety-four LNG carriers. Most will be built by Mitsubshi Heavy Indistries in Japan and Hundai in South Korea.
Lloyd Bergeson’s vision for the future of LNG and the ships for transporting the fuel was vindicated. Some may say General Dynamics missed the boat on this one, to the tune of twenty billion dollars or more.















Sunday, November 8, 2015

LETTER TO CONGRESS

        I write as one who has benefited significantly from Medicare,  to express my support for single-payer national health insurance and to urge you to co-sponsor H.R. 676, the “Expanded and Improved Medicare for All Act,” introduced by Rep. John Conyers Jr.
By now it is pretty clear that Obamacare is a chaotic plan and millions of Americans will remain underinsured or without insurance. Moreover, those who are insured are at the mercy of profit-motivated companies who substantively determine what kind of care a person can get, and may deny it entirely. 
Obamacare is styled to please for-profit insurance companies. A cruel and fundamental flaw is that it is common for people to buy policies with high deductibles,  for example $2500 or $5000 in order to keep the premiums at a minimum The patient ends up paying out of pocket for most medical bills and the insurance company banks the entire premium.
With Medicare for all, there will be very significant savings, especially if Medicare is allowed to negotiate for drug prices, which often skyrocket for no good reason. Also, it is ridiculous that prople are prevented from buying prescriptions where the prices are lower, for instance, Canada.
Since all enrolled will pay a modest amount, Medicare can be incentivized so that people get a refund if they keep themselves healthy and don’t  use the system. A healthier nation will  result. Everyone wins.

I urge you to support H.R. 676.