Eric's Beijing Diary

Last night l was having dinner with Eric and Leander and Lisa, and Eric suddenly got the brainy idea to go to Beihai park. I said, "You want to take the subway to Beihai Park tonight?" He said, "No. Ride our bikes?" Beihai Park is in the center of Beijing, down my Tiananmen, and I was a bit dubious about riding all the way down there and back this late in the evening, but I certainly wasn't going to be the one to throw cold water on the idea. I got on my one-lock bike and we headed out the East Gate and down Xueyuan Lu (College Road).
Beijing is, in many ways, an ideal city for bicycles. It is basically flat. The weather is comparatively dry, and there is not much snow, so if you have a rain slicker for the occasional downpour, there are very few days in the year that you cannot ride a bike. In contrast to the United States, all streets have bicycle lanes. Of course, in America I never had to dodge donkeys and motorcycles, but my point is...OK, a taxi now and then…anyway, when riding a bike in America, you always feel that you are somewhere you're not supposed to be. Bicycle lanes are a novelty, not a standard. Here in China, you sometimes have to contend with an impatient taxi driver in the bicycle lane. In America, there is no lane. You're always stuck riding in the same lane as the cars. This absurd arrangement scared the life out of me when I first got to America, so I rode my bike on the sidewalk, but the police didn't like that.

And the design of bicycles in America always struck me as a bit odd. America just is not a bicycle riding country. I lived in America for 40 years and never had a decent bicycle. I was spoiled, I guess. I grew up in a country where bicycles were for riding, not looking cool. I don't know...maybe I am just old fashioned.

Anyway, as I said, we headed down XueYuan Lu, and began to work our way southeast. The university district where I live is in the northwest corner of Beijing. The northwest corner of Beijing has at least 50 universities. There are more university students in these few square miles than in any other area of the world at any time in the history of the planet. Probably half a million.

After about fifteen or twenty minutes, we came to the place where the old city wall used to be. We rode our bikes under the Jishutian bridge, and entered old town Beijing. The streets got narrower, and there was lots of activity. In spite of the fact that this is a large city, this part of Beijing has a "small town" feel to it. It wasn't long before we came to the old palace wall that surrounds Beihai. We parked our bikes, paid our ten yuan, and entered the park. Having to pay 10 yuan to go to a city park is irritating to me, but it is actually an advantage, because it's not a lot of money, and this park would be a lot more crowded if it were free. Instead, it is a very peaceful place--basically a large sized version of Kiwani's Park. It was a peaceful evening, the quiet broken only by the sound of music coming from the lakeside, where a couple men were playing a violin and a harmonica, and the shouting of the soldiers. Beihai borders Zhongnanhai, and we could hear the guards going through their evening drills.

Well, it was getting dark, so we headed back. On the way there, we had been riding together, but on our return, we got split up. Eric and I were racing, so we left Leander and Lisa in the dust. Eric is pretty fast, but I had an unfair advantage, because I was riding a large frame bike. The trip down took us about forty minutes, but we picked up a bit of time on the way back.

This morning on Dialogue, Yang Rui was interviewing George Shultz. Shultz gave a vigorous defense of the American presence in Iraq. Of course he had many good arguments, because he knows the story better than anyone. When asked about the weapons of mass destruction, he said, "It's a mystery." It is this mystery, I believe, which is at the heart of America's problems with the world community. Feelings about America's role in Iraq are by no means uniform in this country. Most people I have talked to are very glad that Saddam Hussein is gone. But there is growing concern about a world with one superpower. When the American's went to war, they said that war was necessitated by the fact that Saddam Hussein had weapons of mass destruction. I remember at the outset of the war, I was talking to one of my students at UAT, a young Jewish intellectual. I asked him if he thought the US would find weapons of mass destruction in Iraq. He said, "Not only will they find them, but when they do, the weapons will say, 'Made in Germany, Made in France.'" When I pressed him on this, he said that the Mossad had agents in Iraq who had been speaking Arabic since they were five years old. Now the war is "over," there are no weapons of mass destruction, and we haven't heard a whisper from the Mossad.

One young thinker here in China confronted me recently about the American involvement in Afghanistan. He was concerned about the Americans invading a country without a clear mandate from the United Nations. I said, "No country is obligated to let the United Nations run their foreign policy. The United States was attacked, and had every reason to respond to that attack." You see, it is very easy for me to America's actions in the Afghan war, because that is one situation where the Americans clearly had a legitimate causus belli.

Many Americans feel that the invasion of Iraq was justified even if Saddam did not have weapons of mass destruction. But if that is true, then the Americans would have been better to take that position from the beginning. The decision to invade on the basis of provocation which has not been validated has created an integrity gap that seriously undermines the American position as a moral leader in the world community. George Shultz seems to believe that those weapons did indeed exist. I have a high regard for Shultz, and for the sake of America's relationship with the world, I hope he is right. But the fact that they have not been found strongly suggests that decisions were made on the basis of what a few people in positions of power really wanted to believe, rather than real, verifiable intelligence. Integrity does matter. The end does not justify the means. The way you do something, and your motives for that action are as important, and often more important, than the action itself.

At the English corner this evening, a lady asked me if people who read the Bible are more creative than people who don't. She was obviously referring to an idea currently gaining popularity in China which basically postulates that the enlightenment and prosperity of the West is somehow related to Christianity. Her question reminded me of something Horace Greeley once said, tement, "It is impossible to mentally or socially enslave a Bible reading people." I told her that I definitely saw a connection between consistent Bible reading and creativity. Bible readers tend to be free thinkers. But I told her that many people in the West do not actually read the Bible, even though they are familiar with it. She had just seen the old movie, "Ten Commandments," starring Charlton Heston, and wanted me to explain it to her. I told her that the first two books of the Old Testament are pretty easy to read, because they are mainly stories, but the third book (Leviticus) is kinda boring, because it is a law book. I also told her that she might have an easier time understanding the Old Testament if she read from the New Testament at the same time.

Another guy joined our conversation. He asked me if I actually believed in God. I told him that I did. He said, "In China, we believe that science and technology answer these questions." I said, "That isn't Chinese thinking. It is modern thinking. Modern America, modern Britain, modern China. There is nothing uniquely Chinese about that way of thinking." He agreed, but still pressed me on my beliefs. I told him that when I am working with computer systems, whether it is dealing with a high-end system like Oracle, or playing a computer chess board, I do not tend to be impressed with the computer, or even the software. Rather, I am impressed with the creativity of the engineer who designed it. And when I walk outside and look at the night sky, find the big dipper, and follow the line established by the two end stars until I see the north star, I am not moved to bow down to those stars and worship them. Rather, I want to meet the engineer who put it all together, because whatever it is, it cannot be an accident. He started to respond, but couldn't quite find the words. He just could not bring himself to contend that something like a computer or a cell phone is an object of design, but the entire night sky is just a freak accident.

I saw an interesting news bit in the China Daily the other day that caught my attention:

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Family lives off 'beggar's' earnings

A 14-year-old girl, who was found in Qiqihar of Heilongjiang Province, has earned so much money through begging that her family had built a new house and does not need to farm anymore, Life Daily reports.

The girl from Shancheng of Henan Province claimed that she was from Shandong Province, her parents had passed away and she had no money to go back to her hometown. Many people donated money to help her return home.

But she aroused suspicion when she refused police help, when officers offered to assist her to return to Shandong Province.

She was later identified by police as coming from Henan, where here parents are living comfortably thanks to the money sent by their daughter.
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I have always been a little uncomfortable giving money to child beggars, because it is widely recognized that often they are controlled by unprincipled adults. "Bad men," as people in China put it. In the case of this young girl, the "bad men" were her parents. Pretty pathetic. So how do you know? How does one decide whether or not to give money to a beggar? I don't know.

A couple weeks ago, I was riding my bike late at night, and I heard a soft voice calling my name. I looked to the side of the road, and to my amazement, there was Lucky Bird. She had what looked to be her entire household wrapped in a bundle on the back of her bike. Of course, I asked her what was wrong. She told me that she had just been fired from her job. I was surprised by this, because I always felt that she was a good waitress, and her English was very good. I asked her what she was going to do, and she said, "I am going to stay with a foreigner. He is coming to pick me up now." I said, "Who is this foreigner?" She said that she didn't really know him. I told her I was uncomfortable with this. She started crying. "I have nowhere to go." Lucky Bird was not so lucky.

Talking to her, I got the gist of the story. She said that before she came to Beijing, the restaurant had promised her a place to live, but once she got here, the restaurant somehow never got around to providing a place for her. This affected her performance. She told me her monthly pay was 600RMB (about $75US). That is definitely not enough to live on in Beijing if you have to provide your own housing. I asked Lucky if I could pray for her. As soon as I was finished, the foreigner showed up. He seemed like a nice enough guy, but I still felt very badly about the whole situation. I went to the restaurant later and talked to her manager, but she was pretty tight-lipped about it.

It's frustrating to be in a position where you have a lot of questions and no answers. The problem of poverty in China, and the widening gap between rich and poor is overwhelming. But I remain confident that something can be done about it. China is loosening up the regulations on the establishment of NGOs. I am more and more confident that I may soon have a chance to do something about this monstrous problem.

Anne Marie sent me an email and wanted some clarification on that last entry. Guess I was in a bit of a hurry. I have been a bit too feichang meng lately.

Here's the scoop:

1. I went to Chaoyangmen to meet an American lady who is visiting in Beijing. She had read one of my book reviews, and contacted me by email. Occasionally I write book reviews on Amazon.com. This one happened to be on a book called, "The Purpose Driven Life." Although this book has enjoyed widespread approval in the Christian community, it has become a center of controversy elsewhere. So I was a bit hesitant to "enter the fray" so to speak, because I have no interest in helping to turn an academic exercise into a ill-mannered discussion board. But I decided to give "credit where credit was due," and put in my two-cents-worth.
   

   
   

2. After meeting with the lady from America, I went to a nice restaurant nearby. Father's day is an important day for fathers. It really isn't the same without my children. But even though my children could not be with me, I like to spend time thinking about how precious they are to me. Over the years, there have been many times when I have been separated from my precious daughters. But the Book says, "many waters cannot quench love." For some reason, God has called me to learn the truth of this scripture through personal experience. I have spent a lot of time away from my children. This has certainly not been my choice, but, for reasons I will probably not fully understand in this lifetime, it is the path God has chosen for me. But even though my children could not be with me, I still wanted to celebrate fatherhood. I was alone, because I hosted the meal myself and neglected to invite anyone else. No one could take the place of my precious daughters.
   

Remember word associations? Try to remember this one if you ever come to China: Car is to pedestrian as bowling ball is to bowling pin.

This evening I went to a special Father's Day dinner at a restaurant in Chaoyangmen. I had gone down there to meet an American lady who was visiting in China. She had read one of my book reviews on the Internet and contacted me by email. I had Moscow style baked fish. That is a very good meal. If you ever come to Beijing, I will show you where to go. I followed it up with some rich black coffee, and a chocolate parfait. Very nice dinner, and it was quiet and peaceful, mainly because I was the only one there. Anyway, my regards to all the fathers out there. Happy Father's Day.

Hmmm... this is getting to be a pattern. I guess it is the "late night" nature of my schedule now. It is late Friday night, but actually early Saturday morning. I really got late tonight, because I just couldn't manage to break away from the English corner at Renmin University. This is a chronic problem. Somehow this evening (Friday) we got into a discussion on the tremendous growth of Christianity in China. One guy said that he thought it was because of loneliness. In modern society, people in the cities are very lonely, so they turn to Christianity. He also mentioned things like the increasing divorce rate. He said that in Jesus Christ, people have found a friend who would never leave them. Another guy who was standing by said that God could not be a friend, because then He would not be God. They asked me what I thought about this. I said that although we, as Christians approach God with reverence, there are references in Scripture to men like Abraham who seemed to have a very personal friendship with God. But this friendship must always be based on God's mercy. One young lady there was a Christian, so I asked her to share her thoughts on why a "Western" religion like Christianity would be attractive to Chinese people. She said, "Before I received Jesus, I was not lonely, and I was not unhappy." This was an obvious response to the comments by the guy with all the theories. She continued to say that a friend of hers had been preaching the gospel to her, but she didn't really want to listen. Finally, she started reading the Bible. "The Bible told me that I was a sinner, and I knew that what the Bible was saying about me was true."

In Langfang this week, I gave the final examination to the freshmen. I spent a couple hours briefing them on this process the week before. I stressed to them the importance of choosing a good issue. I asked them if they could tell me what an issue was. Most of them said that it was a topic. I told them that an issue is, by definition, a conflict of values. An issue, therefore, is much more dynamic and engaging than a topic. Issues are interesting; topics are boring. I told them it was very important to focus on an issue that was important to them--take a position and defend it. Some of them got the point. And some of them didn't.

"My topic is about life. Life is...neiga..."

This is a very common mistake. Young people think they should pick a broad topic so that they will have plenty to talk about. But the reality is that by choosing such a large topic, they have given up any chance of narrowing their focus. And taking a position is out of the question, because there is no issue, just lots and lots of trivia jumbled together. One of the best discussions of this problem I have read is in a book called Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance by Robert Pirsig, former professor of rhetoric at Montana State University. He talks about a young lady in one of his classes who froze when she was given a writing assignment. She just could not think of anything to say. So Pirsig told her to go down in the street and write about what she saw. She was still stuck. Finally, he told her to go down in the street, find a single brick on the wall, and describe it. She could not stop writing. It was pages later before she came up for air. Lack of focus is perhaps the primary obstacle to effective rhetorical communication.

Not surprisingly, the most effective and least nervous were those who chose to simply communicate their own thoughts. Some of them sounded like they had been reading a book of essays or something:

"Yesterday is history. Tomorrow is mystery. But today is a gift. That's why they call it the present."

And there is always one guy who thinks the way to an A is to flatter the professor.

"I have a lovely and handsome teacher named, Mr. Eric. He has a little fat, but I think he is a successful man."

It's late. Or early, depending on how you look at it. I am sitting here listening to Reagan's funeral on NPR. I don't know if I have time to hear the whole thing, but I wanted to hear what Maggie had to say. Her doctor would not let her deliver her eulogy live, so I was a little concerned about how she would be. I needn't have worried. Baroness Thatcher was her old magnificent self. Listening to her brings home one very interesting fact about the eighties. When I asked the freshman students in Langfang why Reagan was a great man, one of them said that he was great because he changed his world. With the exception of Muammar Qaddafi, most world leaders view Reagan as a very important figure in the modern history of the United States. After all, he brought an end to the cold war. But what is often missed is that Reagan was very lucky. He happened to be in power at a time when there were some other very unusual figures on the world stage.

First to come to mind, of course, is Margaret Thatcher. A woman of incredible resolve, and razor-keen perspective. It is hard to fully appreciate the effect she had on her world without examining the malaise that afflicted Britain before she entered office, but I really don't have time to address that part of the story. Sitting here in Beijing, I find most significant the role she played in ensuring that the return of Hong Kong to China would be done in such a way as to preserve the way of life that the people of Hong Kong, as British subjects, had come to expect.

Growing up in the cold war, I was completely unprepared for a man like Gorbachev. I guess I just had not dare to hope that there could be a change so fundamental. The change had actually started quite a bit earlier. I think it began with Kruschev's repudiation of Stalin, but really matured during the "Prague Spring" of 1968, when Alexander Dubcek began his moderate rule of Checkoslovakia. America was very interested in this development, because America had become accustomed to the frigid atmosphere of mistrust and animosity we all knew as the "Cold War." But Dubcek really had no reason to be anti-American, and plenty of reason not to be. His parents were both American citizens. I will never forget when the Soviet tanks rolled into Prague in August. In the West, most people just shrugged their shoulders and resigned themselves to the status quo they had come (perhaps too easily) to accept. Dubchek was expelled from the party and spent the next eighteen years as a clerk in a lumber yard. Mikhail Gorbachev and his wife Raisa were close personal friends of Dubcek, and certainly sympathetic with his approach. Boris Yeltsin liked to call Gorbachev the "lover of half-steps." But I think perhaps he did not give Gorbachev enough credit. Everything that Boris Yeltsin did was made possible because of everything that Gorbachev did.

Finally, of course, Deng Xiaoping was determined to build a China that was much more pragmatic than it had been ("Who cares whether the cat is black or white, as long as it catches mice."). Deng was not a newcomer by any means. He had been with Mao since the beginning. But there were issues that separated them. In general terms, it was Deng's pragmatism, which was always a source of irritation to Mao. But in the end, the rift between Mao and Deng centered around the Cultural Revolution (1966-1976). To the very end, Mao considered it his crowning achievement. Deng thought it was a disaster. During his visit to the United States in 1979, actress Shirley Mclaine told him about a discussion she had had with a nuclear scientist who told her how rewarding it was to be sent to the countryside. Deng said simply, "He lied."

During their negotiations on Hong Kong, it was Deng who offered to Margaret Thatcher the option of a 50 year interlude during which there would be "one country with two systems." This broke the deadlock and they were able to reach an agreement. That story isn't over, of course, because there is still lots of debate about what level of self-determination the people of Hong Kong should enjoy, but I believe that history will thank Margaret Thatcher for creating the deadlock, and Deng for bringing it to an end.

The unthinkable happened yesterday. But not at all the way I had expected or feared. My one-lock bike disappeared. I know, it's really unbelievable. I have been assured many times that no one in their right mind would want it. You can imagine the questions that ran through my mind. I had worked so hard to keep it just as old and rusty as possible. When I tell students my strategy, they nod approvingly, "Yes, this is very wise." Now it was all to no avail. The whole thing started when I rode my bike to Wudaoko and took the light rail to the subway. I had to go to the shopping mall at the World Trade Center in Guomao on the east side of town to get some breakfast cereal. On my way back I stopped for awhile at the Square, where lots of people were flying kites. I got delayed by some artists who were trying to sell me some of their work. I finally broke away because I wanted to get back in time to go to the Prayer and Praise meeting put on by BICF at the Jimen Hotel near where I live. BICF is doing a church plant on the west side. I am involved with a Chinese church, so I can't be with them on Sundays, but the Saturday night thing once in awhile works for me.

Anyway, when I finally got back to Wudaoko, I was dismayed to find that my one-lock bike was nowhere to be seen. I looked everywhere. I had put it with a few bikes in one corner of the area underneath the train station. I guess I should have left it over by the coffee bar. There was a large bicycle parking area close by, but it was packed. It's hard to explain it so that you can visualize it, but Beijing has literally millions of bicycles, and some of them have been in those parking areas for months and months. I thought someone might have made room for the bikes that were parked with mine and put them in the lot, but I could not see it anywhere. I asked the attendant about it, and told him where I had parked my bike. He berated me for failing to put it in the designated lot, and told me he couldn't help me.

Well, there wasn't much I could do. I was beginning to despair. But I was suspicious, too, because my bike was not the only one missing. All the bikes that were parked with it were gone. I just wasn't ready to give up. When the bike attendant saw that I wasn't going to leave, he finally pointed over toward the side of the building. Sure enough, my one-lock bike was thrown in a heap with the other bicycles as if it were so much garbage. Well, OK, it kinda is, but I don't usually think if it that way. And what about the bicycle attendant? How was it that this guy who told me just a few minutes earlier that he couldn't help me suddenly knew where it was? Did this guy really think that I was trying to avoid paying the parking fee? Liang mao? It's about three pennies.

In other news, I had dinner this evening with some friends from church. One of the most encouraging things about China these days is to see this new generation of Chinese Christians. They really are some very nice young people.

Happy Birthday, Dad.

I really didn't spend too much time in technology this week in Langfang, because I wanted to take time to prepare the students for the final examination. But I did take time for a little music. I taught them how to sing "Row, Row, Row Your Boat" backwards, a trick I learned from Heidi years ago:

Dream a but is life
Merrily, merrily, merrily
Merrily stream the down gently
Boat your row, row, row.

Of course I had to teach them how to sing it forward first. I also taught them an old Burl Ives chorus. It's a simple little thing, but they just could not get through it without laughing.

Mares eat oats,
And does eat oats,
And little lambs eat ivy.
A kid will eat ivy, too.
Wouldn't you?

Music really is a pretty good way to teach language, as long as you combine it with other things. Since this is Technical English, I have spent a considerable amount of time teaching technical vocabulary and concepts. But many of these students have trouble with technical English, because they don't have much background with English at all. So I have had to compromise, for the benefit of students, some of whom had never met a foreigner before they took this class.


Sing your way home,
At the close of the day.
Sing your way home,
Drive the shadows away.
Smile all the while,
For wherever you roam.
It will lighten your load.
It will brighten your road.
If you sing your way home.

Got an email the other day from one of my freshman students in Langfang:

"Dear Mr. Eric, Last week I told you there would be a chorus contest of our department on the night of May 30th. Maybe I was so confident with my class and said my class was bound to be the champion. Fate seemed to trick us, we were the tail ender unexpectedly finally. Although we made full preparations beforehand, but it appeared useless when we were told that we were going to perform first two hours before the contest. I think I will always remember the moment we stood at the stage. Somehow, I felt nervous, and so did many classmates in my class. Suddenly, I found I had no courage to see the audiences, nor did I sing. Although I warned myself just to sing regardless of others constantly, I was still unable to control my minds. I was unable to imagine how the time had passed, after the performance, some audiences said we were shivering ceaselessly. How regretful that we lost the champion. But, who should be to blame? Whether or not, we had to accept the result and expected to do well next time. Mr. Eric, this week we learn a passage depicting the Bermuda Triangle Phenomenon in our English classes. The Bermuda Triangle is described as a terrible place where planes and ships crossing are always disappearing without sake, even without an oil stain left. Stranger yet are the numerous ghost ships that have been found floating crewless within the triangle. Is it true? I have referred to many books and find an interesting phenomenon. Nearly all the examples cited by these books are before 1960s.Besides, I haven't heard of any report that someone is missing in that zone since 1990s. Why? So I suspect the authenticity of the phenomenon. One of the classmates in our class also supported me and made a fascinating assumption. He thought it was a mean of making mystery adopted by Bermuda, Florida and Puerto Rico to promote their tourism. He said that the main income of the three places came from tourism and without tourism, they had few ways to live, so we could not exclude the possibility that they exaggerate the fact deliberately. It sounds interesting, but lacks evidence. Mr. Eric, Is his explanation reasonable? If not, what is the truth? You must learn more than us since you lived in America for a long time. Mr. Eric, I don't know if you like sports. People in my dormitory are crazy about NBA, but most of us dislike Lakers, only one, who is the steady supporter of Lakers, always bet with us whether Lakers will lose or win when we watching the live broadcast of NBA games. Especially the fifth game between Lakers and Spurs. There was only 4 seconds left and Spurs still fell behind by one point, at this time, Duncan shot the ball, his body almost losing balance, but the ball flew into the basket directly as if by magic. Only 0.4 seconds left for Lakers. Could Lakers win? I am sure nearly everyone would stand in the side of Spurs at that moment, for 0.4 seconds were too tiny to be paid attention to. But that Lakes steady supporter still insisted Lakers would win and bet with us losers must buy an ice cream for winners. We agreed. When we expected players jumped to cheer their victory, a miracle happens. Fisher threw the ball with all his strength before the game was over. Watching the ball fell into the basket, five of us fell into despair as well while one burst into laughter. Lakers won the game and so did he. That day he enjoyed five ice creams that we promised. To him, it was a fantastic experience, but to me, it was a contrary one. How I wish Duncan had slowed a bit to shot the ball so that Lakers had had no chance to throw the last ball. That's all. See you next time."

I saw it on a pop-up this morning. Reagan is dead at 93. The great communicator has left us. Reagan has been a part of the American political scene for half a century, but I remember him first as the host of Death Valley Days.

Not being from California, my first awareness of him politically was when he entered the race for the Republican nomination in 1968. He really didn't have a chance, because Nixon was pretty much the standard bearer of the Republican party that year, but I think perhaps Reagan was taking the opportunity to make a risk-free (he was governor of California at the time) run for high office that would put his name before the people as a legitimate candidate for the job.

It is an extraordinary challenge to sum up the life of this quintessential American, but more than anything, I think, it is his enormous optimism and zest for life that defined him as a person and as a leader.

Reagan was extraordinary as a person because he always lived life with enthusiasm, and he was extraordinary as a leader for the same reason--his leadership grew out of the experiences of his life, and the conviction that the principles he stood for were proven and dependable. The vast majority of politicians come from the legal field. Most lawmakers are lawyers by profession. I guess that isn't so strange, but Reagan was refreshing as a political leader precisely because he did not come from that background. Nor was he born into a political family. On the other hand, his resume as an actor sometimes fooled the unwary into thinking that he was "shooting from the hip" when he talked about economic issues. The fact is that Reagan was a studied economist. He was an actor by profession, but an economist by training. As a student at Eureka Christian College, he starred in every play he could. But he did not major in drama, he majored in economics.

When I read his memoirs, An American Life, some years ago, I was impressed with how much that book is as much about life as it is about politics. Reagan was so impressive as a person because he lived the American dream during the time when it was hardest to attain. He got his start in radio during the depression.

Because he became president, his career as an actor has been talked about a lot. But Reagan was a "B movie" actor. He mostly starred in second rate productions. He was probably too much of an individual to be a big time star. For one thing, he never had a stage name. His name was always real. And somehow, his characters were, too. They always seemed to be some version of him. In the old westerns, he always supplied his own horse, and he had an odd way of dismounting by swinging his leg over the horse's head and jumping to the ground. I can't imagine a modern director giving him so much license.

As a political entity, the watershed year for Ronald Reagan was 1976. He ran against his own party incumbent (Gerald Ford) in the primaries. I was skeptical about him as a candidate, and perhaps a bit miffed at what appeared to be a show of disloyalty. But history has put the matter in perspective, mainly because he didn't get the nomination, and we were all forced to suffer the most boring fall campaign in my memory. I will never forget it. November of 1976. I went to the public library in Monmouth, Oregon to cast my vote. I still hadn't decided who I was going to vote for, yet. I guess I thought maybe I would figure it out by the time I got there, but I was wrong. I walked around the library several times, trying to make up my mind, but it was no use. I finally went in and did something I have not done before or since. I filled out the ballot, leaving the Office of President blank. I just did not have the stomach to vote for either Ford or Carter.

I call 1976 a watershed year because it was that campaign that put Reagan before the people as the "Great Communicator." I remember it well. The Reagan campaign had purchased a half-hour of prime time for $100,000. I watched it in the Student Union at Oregon College of Education. It was a little side room--for some reason I was all by myself. But it was an extraordinary experience. Somehow, it was clear from that moment that Reagan was here to stay.

Nineteen eighty was definitely Reagan's year. I remember in the summer of 1979, sitting on the beach on the shores of Resurrection Bay, where John and I were working for the summer, and listening to Carter talk about a "national malaise." I was so deeply frustrated with this complete vacuum of leadership. Reagan entered the campaign in 1980 as the ultimate contrast to Carter's "down in the mouth" approach. This morning I was listening to Neal Conan on NPR, and he reminded me of Reagan's response to Carter's vagueness about the economy:

"If he (Carter) wants a definition, I'll give him one. Recession is when your neighbor loses his job, depression is when you lose yours, and recovery is when Jimmy Carter loses his." Poor Carter didn't have a chance. I felt sorry for him, in a way, but he just wasn't up to the job. I think there are reasons why Carter was in the White House for the time period that he was, most significantly, perhaps, the Camp David accords, but in 1980, it was clearly time for him to go. It has often been said that Reagan succeeded because if his deep conviction that what he was doing was right. But greatness in leadership is not defined by decisiveness alone. It is that of course, but is also the ability to be proven correct a relatively high percentage of the time.

But there was something else about Reagan that made him irresistible to the American body politic. When he could not persuade his detractors, he had a way of disarming them in such a manner that they almost seemed to enjoy it. I remember one time watching a press conference hosted by Reagan after he had just been ill. It was during the Iran-Contra affair, and the sharp-tongued Andrea Mitchell rose for a question. She started in on Reagan, but then her voice broke. Frustrated, she said, "I think I've caught your cold!" Reagan smiled, "Well, imitation is the sincerest form of flattery." Ms. Mitchell started laughing and the tension was broken.

He was famous for those one-liners. When Nancy entered the emergency room where he had been taken after being shot, he looked at her, shrugged, and said, "Honey, I forgot to duck." When the anesthesia was being administered, he looked up at the doctors and said, "Please tell me you're Republicans." His sense of humor and optimism was contagious, and it gave a nation the encouragement to believe that their leader would rally.

But by far the most significant contribution Reagan made as a leader was his relentless attack on Soviet totalitarianism. In the early sixties, Kennedy went to Berlin and said, "I am a Berliner." Nice thought, but when the statement was over, he got on a plane and flew back to the United States. But when Reagan went to Berlin, he said, "Mr. Gorbachov, tear down that wall!" He put it in his speech, and the State Department took it out. He put it back in. The State Department finally told him in very strong language that he absolutely could not make that statement. He made it anyway. I think CNN has to be given part of the credit, because they played that line over and over, but clearly that was the challenge that rent the veil Churchill named the "Iron Curtain."

I will never forget it. I was washing dishes or something in my apartment, and I heard that Hungary had decided to take down the portion of the wall separating them from Austria. I thought, "This will never work. Now people who want to go to the West will just make their way to Hungary and walk into Austria." During the next few weeks, that is essentially what happened. The trickle became a flood, and the rest is history. By the time the wall came down, it was almost anticlimactic, and Reagan's posture had rendered it all but impossible politically for Gorbachov to stop it. This process had been developing for several years, and I think I know when it started.

On a Saturday afternoon in August, 1984, Reagan was preparing to give his weekly radio address, and the sound engineers asked him to say something into the mike. Reagan said, "My fellow Americans, I'm pleased to tell you today that I've signed legislation that will outlaw Russia forever. We begin bombing in five minutes." It was a joke, of course. It wasn't supposed to be news. But the media picked it up, and it was played around the world. If he had just said, "testing, one, two, three," none of us ever would have heard it. But in an odd sense, this message spoke what everyone knew was true. The Soviet system was unlawful, and had to go.

Reagan's approach to leadership was simple and straightforward. When the air traffic controllers struck, Reagan reminded them that they had taken an oath and held them to it. I remember Richard Allen telling about his first briefing with Reagan after he became National Security Advisor. He asked Reagan what should be the American posture vis-a-vis the Soviet Union relative to the various Soviet-sponsored insurgent actions in different parts of the world. Reagan said, "How about this: we win, they lose."

Finally, I would say that Reagan will always be remembered because, although he was quintessentially American, he never talked as if America was something that should be reserved for the few. In recent years, the words of Emma Lazarus on the Statue of Liberty have become almost a farce, because, while the Lady stands in the harbor holding forth the lamp of liberty, the attitude of many in power is to hold on to what they have, and not share it with anyone else. The Lady says,

"Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore,
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!"

But those words ring pretty hollow in an America whose foreign policy is guided unashamedly by self interest. The Americans seem obsessed now, with keeping for themselves what was given to them, or their parents, or their grandparents at a time when they themselves were homeless, "tempest-tost" or poor.

In his farewell address to the American people, Reagan told the story of a sailor on the carrier Midway who was helping rescue boat people from the South China Sea. One of the boat people looked up at him and said, "Hello, American sailor, hello freedom man!" Just before I left America, I remember watching a brief news clip showing some Coast Guard sailors chasing an Hispanic refugee around in the ocean near Florida, trying to keep him from touching shore. This poor would-be immigrant was no match, of course, for these modern "freedom men" with their high powered boat. I was heartsick to see how far down America had come from a day when the arms of liberty were held open wide, in Reagan's words, "to anyone who had the will and the heart to get here." But, in a sense, it was just one more sad reminder that Reagan's passing is almost anticlimactic. The Reagan we knew and loved left us some time ago, due to the horrible debilitating effects of Alzheimer's. And the America that he so heartily embraced, and so enthusiastically espoused has, itself, already passed into history.



Ronald Reagan, in a hand-written message to the American people, November 5, 1994:

My Fellow Americans,

I have recently been told that I am one of the millions of Americans who will be afflicted with Alzheimer's Disease.

Upon learning this news, Nancy & I had to decide whether as private citizens we keep this a private matter or whether we would make this news known in a public way.

In the past Nancy suffered from breast cancer and I had my cancer surgeries. We found through our open disclosures we were able to raise public awareness. We were happy that as a result many more people underwent testing. They were treated in early stages and able to return to normal, healthy lives.

So now, we feel it is important to share it with you. In opening our hearts, we hope this might promote greater awareness of this condition. Perhaps it will encourage a clearer understanding of the individuals and families who are affected by it.

At the moment I feel just fine. I intend to live the remainder of the years God gives me on this earth doing the things I have always done. I will continue to share life's journey with my beloved Nancy and my family. I plan to enjoy the great outdoors and stay in touch with my friends and supporters.

Unfortunately, as Alzheimer's Disease progresses, the family often bears a heavy burden. I only wish there was some way I could spare Nancy from this painful experience. When the time comes I am confident that with your help she will face it with faith and courage.

In closing let me thank you, the American people for giving me the great honor of allowing me to serve as your President. When the Lord calls me home, whenever that may be, I will leave with the greatest love for this country of ours and eternal optimism for its future.

I now begin the journey that will be lead me into the sunset of my life. I know that for America there will always be a bright dawn ahead.

Thank you, my friends. May God always bless you.

Sincerely,

Ronald Reagan

This week in Langfang we were talking about the force/distance relationship, such as is demonstrated by a block and tackle. I drew an illustration of the elevator I built when I was a kid. I climbed the old oak tree in our front yard, carrying a pulley in my pocket. I worked my way to the top of this tree, and tied the pulley to a branch. Then I ran a rope through it, and fastened a board, for a seat, on one end. While I was drawing my picture, I asked them how many of them had built a tree house when they were young. None of them had. I was incredulous. I asked them then if any of them had been in a treehouse. One of them said, "We've never even seen a treehouse."

"You've never seen a treehouse?!"

"Yes, never."

I asked them why they had not had this experience. Some of them mentioned the fact that they had grown up in the city. But I pressed the issue, "Didn't you have trees where you lived?" One of them finally said, "There were trees, but they were for the public." But who is the public if it is not kids who need treehouses? It's hard for me to imagine a childhood without a treehouse. I wonder how this question will be answered a generation from now, when a whole country of kids will have grown up with the protection of private
property actually written into the constitution.

It's late. I have a late class on Monday and Wednesay evening. Oracle Database Administration. This is a new course here at the University, and it is sort of the "flagship" course of the new database curriculum I am setting up here at the Software College. The approach I am using represents a major paradigm shift, because I have stressed to students that, in contrast to what they may have been used to in their previous educational experience, we will be moving from practice to theory rather than from theory to practice. In other words, we will start with the practice, and then use this to build a theoretical construct. The way this works out in practice is that students who come to class and work through the labs meticulously will do well, but those who prefer to stay home and read a book will have problems. Constant review is the only way to learn the procedures required to establish mastery of this (or any) high end system.

I have announced a mid term for next Monday night. This, of course, has produced some anxiety. It shouldn't, because the test will be pretty easy for those who have taken time to learn the procedures. But these students have varying levels of language proficiency. Even though English language proficiency is required for this course, I have not mandated a TOEFL test as a requirement for entry. I have left it up to each student to make this decision. So, as I said, there is some anxiety about the exam. One young lady expressed her frustration on a student web board in Structured Query Language:

DELETE from MyBrain
WHERE memory LIKE '%Oracle%';