SERVING HENDRICKS COUNTY SINCE 1847
Page 6
The Republican
Voices
A Bark From the Past: Henry
[Editor’s Note: The Republican’s first four-footed correspondent was Henry. A mixed breed rescue dog, Henry would make observations about being a dog in a small town. The articles, which ran in 2006 - 2010, have been languishing in the computer’s memory and we thought a new audience might enjoy some canine commentary.]
We offer Voices as a place to share a story, a memory, an idea, a comment, a criticism, or a solution. Contributors must include name, address & phone number.
Thursday, June 17, 2021
ASK MR. TRAFFIC By Chet Skwarcan, PE, President/ Founder of Traffic Engineering, Inc. Chet@TrafficEngineering.com
[This column is from June 2008, when the Downtown Danville Partership hosted the first Summer Sounds on the Square concert.] Wasn’t that a great concert on the square the other night? I wasn’t there, but I could hear the singer from my back yard. She was really good! Woof! And so was her band! I know my brothers and sisters liked it, because a few times, they sang along in harmony! The only thing that could have made it better was if my humans had passed around some biscuits while we listened. Or maybe some of that instant popcorn from the magic humming box! My humans never seem to think of obvious things like that, and no matter how we try to tell them, they just aren’t clever enough to figure out what we mean! Anyway, the music was great and we hope there are going to be lots more of those concerts this summer! Hey! I’ve got a new human hero this week and his name is Wynn Brower, a 12-year-old human from Bloomington that I heard about the other day on the radio. Wynn did a great science fair project. He wanted to see how his family’s electric bill would be effected if they turned off their four computers at night. And it turned out that they saved a whole dollar every day! Well, Wynn’s father Bill was so impressed that he took his son’s idea to the Monroe County Alphas, and they had someone crunch the numbers (That’s what the human on the radio said, but I don’t know what it means. I crunch my biscuits and I chew paper with numbers on it sometimes, although it really doesn’t crunch, but I can’t figure out how you can crunch numbers!) Anyway, they found out that the Monroe County Alphas’ offices have 550 computers, and that if all of them were turned off every night, the county could save $25,000 a year, using 5% less electricity! So, the county alphas made that official, and now, all the computers in the Monroe County offices are turned off every night! Well, my humans thought that was great, too, so now, they turn off all the computers at their work every night. I use the home computer for writing this column, and I always turn it off when I’m done! Well, it seems to me that if everybody in Danville turned off their computers when they weren’t using them, I bet they could save a lot of money and energy, too! (What do you think about that, Hendricks County alphas?) I’m very good at saving energy myself. Even though I like a brisk walk once in a while, I have been known to dawdle a bit, especially if there are lots of good smells along the way. And I use as few steps as I can when they call me for supper. Of course, there’s nothing like a sixor seven-hour puppy power nap! Now, my cat buddies, they’re the real champs when it comes to saving energy. They’ve saved all their energy for eating and sleeping and that’s all for as long as I remember! So, this is my challenge for you. For the next month, just turn off your computer when you are done. See how much energy you can save! Thought for the Day: Albert Einstein was once asked what the most powerful force in the universe was, and he said, “Compound interest.” Saving energy is like that. It takes minimal effort to make a difference. It’s in all our best interests to do something, no matter how small it seems. Everything helps! ______________________________________________
Top Traffic-Related Questions New Topics Each Week!
A Husbands Viewpoint
This story is about Childbirth from a husband’s viewpoint. Now I can hear a whole bunch of women saying, “What would a husband know about childbirth?” They are right. Husbands usually go into childbirth blindly. I did. First it was the Doctor Visits. Then it was getting the nursery ready. Next it was going to showers (not me, her) Then she tells me I need to go to Lamaze classes where I will be taught how to breath. Right. Every week we would take our pillows and go to breathing class. We would lay on the floor and practice breathing. The teacher told me I was one of her best students. Right. This was going to be our first child, so we were clueless. Finally, the time came for action. She started having contractions every 10 or 15 minutes. She was in constant contact with the Doctor. (I’ll bet he got tired of that.) He finally said “Don’t call until the contractions were 2-3 minutes apart. I fell asleep on the couch which was not very nice now that I think about it. She read some where that she should pack sandwiches in her overnight bag in case the event happened in the middle of the night because he would get hungry. She made peanut butter and jelly. Right. We finally went to the hospital around midnight and this contraction thing started getting serious. By the way, contraction is another word for pain, sheer pain. I ate a sandwich about midnight and got sick. I asked my wife to feel my forehead to see if I had a fever. She said “Can you wait a minute; I am having a contraction.” Right. So, pretty soon she asked for the nurse because she was ready for her epidural. This is a shot they put into the spine to deaden the pain. I found the nurse and told her my wife was ready for her shot. The nurse informed me that your wife had to be further along on the birth before she could have the shot. Hmm. This is not good. I returned to the labor room (I’m sweating now). I didn’t know what to do so I told her the nurse would be right in. (I may not go to heaven because of this.) Every now and then she would ask for the nurse, I would go out and stand in the hall a few minutes and come back and say “She’s on her way. “ Finally she came. Later I was standing around with the Doctor while they prepared her and I asked him “Does it bother you when the husband is there when the baby is born?” He said no. It usually takes a while and at least we can talk about baseball or something. Right. Our son came about noon the next day and he was a cutie. I cried. Not sure why. I was so glad to be a part of this miracle. Great job, Dorothy. ______________________________________________
A Note From Bee During my growing up years fathers went to work, came home, had supper, read the newspaper, did odd jobs around the house, and then went to bed. Their love for us was understood because they provided for all our needs. Mothers did not work so child care was totally up to them. My father, Lee Brezinski was no exception. My sister and I did not expect anything else. As far as fun things went our father took us fishing occasionally and to Riverside Amusement Park. He was an excellent role model. He taught us to be good citizens and good Christians. Whatever job we had as we got older we were to do it to the best of our ability no slacking. He was a strict disciplinarian. He very seldom had to whip us. Yes, whipping was acceptable. He just had to speak to us sternly. Our Uncle Ed Kautsky was our go-to person for fun. I think that was due to the fact that he never fully grew up. To name only a few things, he took us to the circus and fair, swimming and to get ice cream. Men of his generation were uncomfortable telling people they loved them. It took Uncle Ed to his 80’s to tell me that he had stayed up all night waiting for me to be born. The first time he saw me he immediately fell in love with me. So, yes, my sister and I had a good childhood. Bee Jones ______________________________________________
A quick review of recent emails suggests there are unanswered questions about what we call traffic-related questions in regards to traffic engineering principles or philosophies or engineering judgement (my favorite). Regarding the suggestions below, I would like to thank Larry S., Carl L., Steve E., and Bruce M., in that order. Roundabouts — how can they be made more intuitive? The number of signs and the pavement markings scare my grandmother. Scooter Mania — where should scooters drive? On the sidewalk? On the street? And they are so much fun! Speed Bumps — should be illegal. Use speed humps or speed tables or more stop signs (just kidding about more stop signs — stop signs should never be used for speed control). Self-Driving Cars — but I like to drive my own car — that’s why I bought a Pinto. And when all cars have autonomous-mode, we won’t need traffic signals or even lane lines (this may be a few years away, but it’s coming) — say good-bye to traffic congestion. School Zone Speed Limits — the “When Flashing” sign — all day? What about holidays, snow days? Are all these signs networked? Liability concerns??? Crosswalks — where warranted? When should they be signalized? Are bikes allowed in crosswalks? (only if you’re walking it). And what about mid-block crosswalks — signalized? Speed Limits — how are they established? What about a town-wide speed limit? Traffic Calming — what is it? Neighborhood speeding and/or cut-through traffic — what can be done? Signal Timings — who is responsible for keeping signal timings optimized and traffic-responsive? How often should it be done and how can adjacent signals be synchronized so I don’t have to stop twice? Traffic engineering solutions continue to evolve. I am a fan of elegant solutions, as Henry David Thoreau said, “Simplify, simplify.” Or as I like to say, “Simplify.” ______________________________________________
A Squirrel About Town By Archy “What’s that, Archy?” I asked. The squirrel was holding a tiny container, the size of a small matchbox. “My box of treasures, of course,” he sniffed, not because he was being haughty or allergic, but because it seemed as if he had been crying. “I assumed humans kept treasure boxes, too,” he continued, composing himself quickly. I pictured that cigar box where I kept childhood treasures. An old marble, a blue-jay’s feather, a tiny pine cone, and pieces of broken china that worked their way to the surface each year we plowed the garden in the spring. “Yes, Archy,” I replied. “Many of us keep treasure boxes, too. Will you tell me about some of yours?” The squirrel seemed pleased that I asked. He held up something tiny and white. “This is one of my baby teeth,” he said. “My mother kept it to remind her of my childhood. Now I keep it to remind me of her.” I thought of those white leather baby shoes my mother tucked away in a dresser drawer. “This is a chip of limestone from the last time the Court House was hit by lighting,” he said, holding a sliver of gray granite. I realized I had some of the same pieces I picked up after that same incident and carried back to the office. I can still remember the sound of the lightning strike. “Here’s one of my favorite pebbles,” Archy said, looking at what appeared to be a peach-colored jelly bean. “If you hold it under water, it sparkles. I’d show you if the fountain was working.” I told him that I had some of the same items in my treasure box. He smiled. “Some people think it’s funny to have such ordinary keepsakes,” he said. “But it’s the ordinary things that we find special that mean the most to us.” Archy let me hold the tiny box and look at his collection. I handed it back and thanked him for sharing his treasure box with me. “My pleasure,” he said cheerfully. “Always glad to contribute to your memory’s treasure box. ______________________________________________
