Best E-mails of the Week 6/22/03

There were plenty of emails flying this week from frustrated New York

math and physics teachers about the state regents exams. 

In one school, every student failed the math, and in general 71% were failing.

In physics, Joanne's daughter Katie showed what she's made of by getting a 95.

THE SMALL TREE
I hired a plumber to help me restore an old farmhouse, and
after he had just finished a rough first day on the job: a flat tire made
him lose an hour of work, his electric drill quit and his ancient one ton
truck refused to start. While I drove him home, he sat in stony
silence.
On arriving, he invited me in to meet his family. As we walked
toward the front door, he paused briefly at a small tree, touching the
tips of the branches with both hands. When opening the door he underwent
an amazing transformation. His tanned face was wreathed in smiles and he
hugged his two small children and gave his wife a kiss.

Afterward he walked me to the car. We passed the tree and my
curiosity got the better of me. I asked him about what I had seen him do
earlier. "Oh, that's my trouble tree," he replied. "I know I can't help
having troubles on the job, but one thing's for sure, those troubles don't
belong in the house with my wife and the children. So I just hang them up on
the tree every night when I come home and ask God to take care of them.
Then in the morning I pick them up again." "Funny thing is," he
smiled, "when I come out in the morning to pick 'em up, there aren't nearly as many
as I remember hanging up the night before."
 

            > Two brothers who lived on adjoining farms fell into
> conflict. It
> >was the first serious rift in 40 years of farming
> side-by-side,
> >sharing machinery, and trading labor and goods as needed without
> a conflict.
Then the long collaboration fell apart.  It began with a
> small  misunderstanding and it grew into a major difference, and
> finally it  exploded into an exchange of bitter words followed by
> weeks of silence.
 One morning there was a knock on John's door. He opened
> it  to find a  man with a carpenter's toolbox. "I'm looking for a few
> days  work, he said.
 "Perhaps you would have a few small jobs here and there I
> could help  with? Could I help you?"
 "Yes," said the older brother. "I do have a job for you.
> Look across
the creek at that farm. That's my neighbor; in fact, it's
> my younger  brother. Last week there was a meadow between us and he
> took his bulldozer  to
 the river levee and now there is a creek between us.
 Well, he may have done this to spite me, but I'll do him
> one > >better.
 See that pile of lumber by the barn? I want you to build
> me  a fence-an  8-foot fence, so I won't need to see his place or his
> face anymore."
 The carpenter said, "I think I understand the situation".
> Show me the  nails and the post-hole digger and I'll be able to do a
> job that  pleases you."
The older brother had to go to town, so he helped the
> carpenter get  the materials ready, and then he was off for the day. The
> >carpenter worked  hard all that day measuring, sawing, nailing. About
> sunset  when the  farmer returned, the carpenter had just finished his job.
 The farmer's eyes opened wide, his jaw dropped. There was
> no  fence
 there at all. It was a bridge - a bridge stretching from
> one  side of the
 creek to the other!
 A fine piece of work, handrails and all - and the
> neighbor,  his
 younger brother, was coming toward them, his hand
> outstretched.
> >"You are
 quite
a fellow to build this bridge after all I've said and
> done."
 The two brothers stood at each end of the bridge, and
> then  they
> >met in
 the middle, taking each other's hand. They turned to see
> the carpenter
 hoist his  toolbox onto his shoulder. "No, wait! Stay a
> few days. I've a
 lot of other projects for you," said the older brother.
> "I'd  love
to stay on," the carpenter  said, "but, I have many more bridges
> to build."            Was this a rerun?
 

Speaking of good builders, thanks Lou for all the help you are giving me

in my new architectural endeavors.

And now to my third sibling:

Here is the Picture of the Week at Jim's Parachuting Club.

wo hundred years ago, Britain faced invasion by the French, using overwhelming force backed up by futuristic American technology. By May 1803, when the British reluctantly went to war, Napoleon Bonaparte had a thousand troop carriers on order, specially designed to ship a quarter of a million men across the English Channel. Submarines and torpedoes were being secretly developed in France by the American inventor Robert Fulton. A French cartoon shows the sea before Dover swarming with landing craft and the skies above thick with military balloons while advance patrols, flown in on kite-style parachutes, prepare the ground for the cavalry and infantry divisions advancing steadily through an early version of the Channel Tunnel.

Horatio Nelson was ready for them. Sea power was Britain's only hope of repelling invaders, and Admiral Nelson said no girl ever longed for a husband more passionately than he desired to smash the French fleet. ''If they are above water I will find them out,'' he promised his superiors.

And from the other new book about America's sea hero John Paul Jones:

In ''John Paul Jones,'' his fascinating new biography, Jones probably never said the famous words, ''I have not yet begun to fight.'' Jones did write, however, what has to be one of the greatest sentences in maritime history: ''I wish to have no connection with any ship that does not sail fast, for I intend to go in harm's way.''

In three weeks it is 199 years since another great Revolutionary War veteran, and my favorite hero Aaron Burr shot that scoundrel Alexander Hamilton who adorns our $10 bill. I can't wait for the bicentennial celebration next year.  I want to reenact the duel in an outdoor stage performance at one of Burr's old stomping grounds.  I'll play the role of Burr in the tribute, and I am still looking for an actor to play Hamilton.  The bullet to your liver won't be real.  Any takers? 

Martha's new pad.

This link leads to Time Magazine's 50 top web sites in 2003.

I'm still searching for Best emails!

http://www.time.com/time/techtime/200306/index.html

No, this is not a picture of me after

a cup of morning coffee, ready to face the day.

.

Pete