Friday, March 1, 2013

A Thank You Goes a Long Way

I was doing a little spring cleaning last year, moving boxes around here and there, creating space for yet more boxes.  Filled with stuff I can never quite throw away, they are things from my past that have been tucked away for years, nearly forgotten.  A life condensed to a pile of boxes; that was my thought.  My son was helping me and whenever he saw something interesting, he'd stop and take a look.  It was slowing down the process.

"Hey, Dad, what's this?"  He'd  already done this several times that day, but I walked over, took a look and chuckled, "Oh, yeah, I remember that."  This time, however, he wanted to know more about it.  "Is this for real?"  He asked in the astonished tone of voice that comes from a kid who discovers something new about his parent.  "Sure, it's real."  "Wow," he said.  Sensing an opportunity to talk with my son, I decided to stop and tell him the story.

It was the night of July 4th, 1988, it was late.  I had just finished playing a holiday concert at a festival on the riverfront in St. Louis, near the Gateway Arch.  I had driven down earlier that day from Chicago and was told to arrive early to get a parking spot near the outdoor stage set on the riverbank.  As I negotiated my way through the parking lots that afternoon, when stopped by a parking attendant, I'd simply say the magic words, "I'm in the band."  Authorities hear those words and they let you right through.  They pointed me down one aisle after another until, finally, I parked close to the stage.  I played the rehearsal, waited around a few hours, played the concert - no problem - I'd done it so often, it had become routine; another gig, another paycheck.

The general rule for parking lots is this:  first one in, last one to leave.  Knowing this, I packed up quickly after the gig and headed to my car.  I figured people would stay for the fireworks show, so I thought I could get out before the crowd.  Except, I couldn't.

I looked down the aisle and saw a police barricade.  A bunch of official looking cars were parked in the aisle and my path to the exit was blocked.  After cursing to myself, I walked down and asked one of the policemen, "Listen, I'm in the band, I've just finished playing.  Is there any way I can get out of here?"  "No, not right now."  "How long will I have to wait?"  "Dunno," he replied.  I knew I was stuck; in a few minutes, thousands of people would head to their cars.  It was going to take forever to get back on the road to Chicago.  Frustrated, I walked back to the car, threw my equipment in the trunk, cracked open a cooler, leaned against the car and settled in for a long wait.

I spotted a couple of guys in suits walk toward me down the aisle with flashlights, looking at every parked car.  When they finally got to me, one guy flashed a badge and said, "United States Secret Service.  This is a secure area.  What are you doing here?"  So, I said the magic words, "I'm in the band.  I just finished playing.  I'm waiting to get out of the lot."  He said, "Unless you submit to a search, you're going to have to leave the area.  Do you consent to a search?"  "Yeah, sure."  So, he patted me down, I opened the trunk, he looked in my equipment bags, then turned to his partner and said, "This guy's ok."  They moved on down the aisle as I began to watch the group that followed.  When they passed me, one tall guy separated himself from the group, walked over, smiled and stuck out his hand, "Hi.  I'm George Bush."

I had a moment alone with the Vice-President of the United States, a man in the midst of a presidential campaign.  We couldn't have talked more than a couple of minutes, but when you talk to someone that important, it seems longer.  He was sincere, down to earth; I noticed the kindness in his eyes.  He seemed genuinely interested in talking with me.  There was nothing political about the conversation.  He asked about my family, he told me about his.  He asked the names of my wife and kids.  He asked about my career.  He told me he had heard a bit of the concert and it sounded great.  He also didn't seem to be in a hurry, but he finally looked around and said, "It was a pleasure talking with you, Larry, but I've got to get out of this parking lot before the traffic."  I said, "I've got the same thought."  The Vice-President paused, then said, "Hey, why don't you pull your car right up behind mine and we'll go out together.  I'll tell them you're with me and you'll get right out of here."  And, that's what I did.

A woman came up to me as Mr. Bush was walking away and asked, "Do you mind giving us your name and address?  The Vice-President likes to keep records on every person he meets."  So, I did and after a couple of weeks, a small letter appeared in my mail box, the size of a thank you note.  I didn't recognize it at first; the envelope was hand written and the return address was simply: Number One Observatory Circle, Washington, D.C.  Inside was a hand written note that read:

"Dear Larry,
It was my pleasure to meet you the other night in St. Louis.  I enjoyed hearing about you, your lovely wife, Judy, and your two wonderful children, Jennifer and Elizabeth.  Barbara and I wish you much success in the future.
Sincerely,
George Bush"

Apparently, I had never told that story to my son, John, who was holding the letter that day cleaning out the closet.  He asked, "You met George Bush?"  "Sure I did."  "Did he write this personally," John asked?  "Well...I think he did, John.  That's his signature."  "How do you know he really signed it?"  "If someone else had signed his name, they'd have put their initials underneath," I said.  "I'm quite sure he wrote the note himself."  "Wow," John exclaimed. 

I read an article later about George H.W. Bush and his habit of sending thank you notes.  He'd kept up the practice his entire career. Bush suggested that the simple act of a thank you has a powerful effect.  It worked with me - I voted for him.  And, years later, my son thinks greater of me because of it.  A thank you goes a long way.


Thursday, February 28, 2013

The Copyright Alert System Will Hurt You

On Monday, February 25th, 2013, the "Copyright Alert System" (CAS) was quietly implemented by five Internet Service Providers (ISPs):  AT&T, Comcast, Cablevision, Time Warner and Verizon.  Those five ISPs provide internet service to 75% of Americans.  A trade association called "Center for Copyright Information" (CCI) is coordinating the system on behalf of large content providers like the Recording Industry of America and the Motion Picture Association of America.

I suspect everyone who uses the above mentioned ISPs will soon get an innocuous looking letter indicating their Terms of Service have changed.  Buried somewhere in the small print of that document may be a description of the new CAS.  It is an arbitrary system that allows content providers and your ISP to control your access to the internet.  

Large content providers have hired "thug" companies to monitor public use of the web.  If a surveillance company believes you are illegally downloading copyrighted material, they flag your IP (Internet Protocol) address and forward it to your ISP.  Content providers and ISPs have developed a "six strike rule."  Each time a subscriber is flagged, they receive a penalty.  It could start with a warning from your ISP.  Additional flags might cause your ISP to slow down your internet speed or temporarily suspend your service.  Finally, after five or six flags, they can accuse you of repeated copyright infringement and may terminate your internet service entirely.

Someone might say, "Hey, this doesn't apply to me.  I don't illegally download music or movies.  What have I got to worry about?"  Well...plenty.  Surveillance companies can't actually tell what you are downloading.  They make an educated guess.  Monitoring companies use software programs that determine the likelihood that your downloads are illegal.  And, according to the website Daily Dot,  they get it wrong a lot of the time.
 
Perhaps, you are downloading a manual for your furnace or a video of your grandchildren posted to a cloud site.  You could be downloading files under the "fair use" exemption in copyright law.  You might have digitized your LP music library and are downloading your own legal copies from an online storage site.  You could be a small business that uploads and downloads large files to and from clients.  You might operate or use a public wi-fi system like those commonly found in small coffee shops or libraries.  It doesn't matter.  Content providers and your ISP don't have to legally prove you're engaging in illegal activity to deny you internet service.   

Do you have any recourse once you're flagged?  Yes, according to the CCI website.  You pay a $35 fee to appeal to what the CCI calls "an independent review board" (hired by content providers) where you must prove your internet activity is legal.  Surely, this is not what Congress intended when they passed the DMCA (Digital Millennium Copyright Act) in 1998. 

How has the CCI convinced ISPs to penalize their own subscribers?  The CCI has taken the position that if ISPs do not implement the "Copyright Alert System," ISPs lose their "safe harbor" protection under the DMCA.  In other words, CCI claims if ISPs do not have a termination policy for repeat copyright offenders, they lose their protection from prosecution under the law.  

What can you do about it?  First, your email attachments are probably safe.  Surveillance companies that work for content providers are not monitoring email traffic.  But, here are some steps you can take to guard your internet privacy:  If you have a wireless network in your home, password protect it so others cannot use it for illegal purposes.  Assume that any bit torrent type of data transfer will be monitored.  Do not trust that proxy servers or switch proxy settings on your browser will protect your internet privacy.  To be completely safe, do what tech savvy Chinese and Iranians do to circumvent their national firewalls:  Get a VPN.  Google the search string "What is a VPN" and learn about virtual private networks.  Using a VPN is easy, inexpensive, protects your privacy and won't slow your internet speed.  Protect yourself from the surveillance monitoring and false accusations from your ISP.  Get a VPN!



       

Tuesday, February 12, 2013

No Greater Moral Imperative

Behind my house is a dense wooded area surrounding a creek that flows into a lake near my home.  Deer often make their way up the creek bed during winter searching for food.  Gaunt and weak, they come out of the woods at night to pick at the tree bark and eat branches off shrubs in my yard.

As they crowd around me on those cold, bleak, snowy nights, they stick their noses in the feed bucket as I pour a mixture of rolled oats and corn onto the ground.  Feeding the deer is not nature's way, but nature didn't surround them with sub-divisions either.  The city accuses me of contributing to an overpopulation of deer, but I reject that.  If there is a deer problem in my area, it's because the city and county do not have a wildlife plan.  Starvation is not a plan, it's the result of no plan. 

In a similar fashion, I was shocked the other day to learn of a new public relations campaign in Kansas City encouraging community and church organizations to stop feeding the homeless.  Led by the Police Department and officials at City Hall,  the city council is threatening to pass an ordinance making feeding the homeless illegal.  As incredible as their logic seems, the city contends that feeding the homeless contributes to a homeless problem.  Does the city actually believe people are willing to give up their homes and live on the streets just to receive a free sandwich on cold February nights?

Each evening, food trucks roll out of community centers and churches, passing out blankets, shoes, coats and food to the homeless.  However, to hear community leaders talk, that should be a crime.  Quoting Leslie Caplan, president of a local neighborhood association (Kansas City Star, 2/2/13), "It's killing our wonderful neighborhoods and historic homes."  Sean O'Byrne, of the Kansas City Downtown Council, says, "Throwing a sandwich to someone in a park is getting redemption on the cheap."  Thankfully, community and church organizations are refusing to comply.  Neal Jorgenson, of the Salvation Army, explained it this way, "We are not enabling them.  We are keeping them alive tonight."

Eric Cantor (R-Va), the House Majority Leader, said in a speech last week before the American Enterprise Institute (2/5/13), "There is no greater moral imperative than to reduce the mountain of debt facing us..." It's the idea that if America can't afford to fund it's obligations, we should start by cutting social programs, instituting a sort of economic triage.  Let's save the people who have jobs, who have money, while depriving the poor of food, shelter and medical care.  That's not a moral imperative, it's the absence of one.  

Funding social programs doesn't make the United States a welfare state.  It is precisely those government programs, large in scope, that give our nation it's most effective tools to address problems in a cost effective way.  For instance, only FEMA can bring to bear the overall resources needed in an emergency.  Yet, the GOP finds it difficult to fund disaster relief at all.  In the final passage of the recent Hurricane Sandy relief bill, 179 Republicans in the House, nearly 80% of their caucus, voted against it. 

For all the faith in God that conservative Republicans profess to have, they conveniently forget that Christ had his budget problems, too.  Yet, He managed to feed a multitude with five loaves of bread and two fish.  How is that different from the Food Stamp program feeding 32 million children?  Perhaps, our budget problems would disappear if we built our society from the bottom up instead of the top down.  Feed the hungry, heal the sick and give shelter to the homeless.  There is no greater moral imperative.

Eric Cantor, who wants to exact his pound of flesh from the poor to avoid paying higher taxes, would do well to heed Portia's admonition to Shylock in Shakespeare's The Merchant of Venice, Act IV, Scene I:

"The quality of mercy is not strained.
It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven
Upon the place beneath. It is twice blest:
It blesseth him that gives and him that takes.
Tis mightiest in the mightiest; it becomes
The throned monarch better than his crown.
His scepter shows the force of temporal power,
The attribute to awe and majesty,
Wherein doth sit the dread and fear of kings.
But mercy is above this sceptered sway;
It is enthroned in the hearts of kings;
It is an attribute of God himself;
And earthly power doth then show like God's
When mercy seasons justice."