Why God Didn't Give Us Children

If you believe in a Divine Entity, then you believe that He or She holds supernatural power over us mere mortals.  Holy books such as The Bible, as well as myths, fables, and legends, constantly depict omnipotent beings influencing the lives of their creations.  Whether they step in to prevent a war, to endow a person with superhuman strength, or to make a virgin pregnant, the Divine guide our lives, and influence the rise and fall of nations.  While one may take steps to frustrate God's plans, one cannot escape destiny.

My wife and I might have taken certain precautions, at various points in our marriage, to prevent having children.  But if God could open Hannah's barren womb, surely He could have given my wife an appreciation for pickles.  As that glorious event never occurred, I can only assume God didn’t trust us with children.  While we both have our theories, I have to wonder if the chief reason He never blessed us in that way was because He simply didn’t approve of the names we might have given them.

Let’s face it: names have significance.  When Jacob goes twelve rounds with God one night, pummeling the Omnipotent One with the patriarchal equivalent of Body Presses, Bronco Busters, and Clotheslines, he does so because he’s tired of being known as Jacob, the deceiver.  So God relents and gives him a new name, Israel, meaning “one who wrestles with God.”  (He also gives Jacob a limp to remember Him by).  History and myths have given us unforgettable names like Hercules, Jupiter, Caesar, and Lancelot that still resonate with us.  And then there are great names from Fiction that tell us something about a given character.  Consider Simon Templar as The Saint.  Darth Sidious.  Doctor Who.  Rumpole of the Bailey.  Bilbo Baggins.  Sherlock Holmes.  Vlad Taltos.  Stephen King.  Okay, maybe the last one’s real, but they’re all evocative. 

So what’s my point?  Why do I think God disapproved of the names that my wife and I might have chosen for our children?  Well, my wife and I still think that Chocolate would have been a terrific name for our first child.  After all, it’s my wife’s favorite food, and my second-favorite.  Nor are we alone in our feelings, as most everyone likes chocolate.  So not only would we have ample reason to love our child, but the rest of the world would as well.  Strangely, Chocolate remains a rare first name, at least in the United States.  Since most people’s eyes light up when they hear the word, I can only assume its lack of popularity originates with the Divine.  After all, naming a child is just the first step in a never-ending list of parental responsibilities.  So we're left to wonder.  Did we fail before we could begin?  Had we intended on giving our child a more conventional name, such as Ricky or Lucy or Fred or Ethel, might God have then entrusted us with a child? 

We may never learn the answers to such questions, at least as long as we exist in this mortal realm, but somehow, it just doesn’t seem fair.  After all, it’s not like our child couldn’t have gone by a middle name when he or she got older.  In fact, that seems a fairly common practice for people not enamored with their first names.  We even had a few awesome middle names picked out.  Did you realize that over eleven thousand women in the United States are named Cherry?  And what about Chip?  Wouldn't Chip be a great middle name for a guy?

Hey, it’s not like we were going to name our first child Ice Cream.  Now that'd just be silly.

Dragon Dave

Related Internet Links

Learn how rare your name is at www.namestatistics.com

Understanding Kimi Raikkonen: Part 6

"What happens in Monaco,
doesn't necessarily stay in Monaco."

In The Right Stuff, author Tom Wolfe calls Chuck Yeager a “natural-born stick ‘n’ rudder man.”  After serving as a combat pilot in World War II, Yeager was trained as a test pilot, and eventually selected for the X-1 project.  This project represented one of aviation’s far-flung goals: the chance to break the sound barrier.  Many pilots and aeronautical experts worried that the increased buffeting and turbulence that rocked planes as they neared Mach 1 would prove insurmountable.  Yeager wanted to prove them wrong.

The X-1 trials were conducted at Muroc, which would later become Edwards Air Force Base.   But then it was just a runway in the desert, along with a few shacks and tents.  The only nearby amenity was Pancho’s Fly Inn, where the airmen indulged in part of the “Flying & Drinking and Drinking & Driving” mentality of military test pilots.  Two nights before his big flight, after knocking back a few drinks, he and his wife saddled up two of Pancho’s horses and went for a moonlight ride.  With a test pilot’s intent of demonstrating that “the right stuff” applied to all aspects of one’s life, he rode at full gallop through the Joshua trees. 

Then his horse hit a gate.

The next day, he slunk off base to a civilian doctor, who taped up his two broken ribs.  The day of the X-1 test, the pain was no less intense.  After determining that he could do everything but close his canopy unassisted, Yeager confided in his flight engineer, who fashioned a makeshift lever from a broom handle.  He rode up in the B-29 until the launch plane reached the proper altitude.  Then he climbed out through the bomb bay, down a ladder into the X-1, hooked up his oxygen, radio, and earphones, and strapped on his helmet.  With his new wooden tool, he closed the cockpit.  After he told the crew he was ready, the B-29 released the X-1, and Yeager lit up the rocket engines.  He made it through the buffeting, and pushed through the sound barrier to reach Mach 1.05.

Similarly, the seven Mercury astronauts believed in blowing off steam after a hard day’s work.  Through their friendship with Jim Rothman, a Florida car dealer who had won the 1960 Indianapolis 500, most of them ended up with brand new Corvettes.  Wally Schirra got a Maserati, and Scott Carpenter a Shelby Cobra.  (John Glenn alone seemed immune to the allure of sports cars).  After knocking back a few drinks, the boys unleashed their cars along the dark highways.  They never worried whether their performances could measure up with those of professional racecar drivers.  They had “the right stuff,” after all!

Much has been made of Kimi Raikkonen’s tendency to let loose after a race, or to celebrate an especially sweet victory.  While I would never condone Drinking & Driving, or public displays of drunkenness, everything we do in life induces a certain amount of stress.  Whether it is a job of our choosing, or an obligation forced upon us, our bodies, minds, and spirits cannot handle unlimited stress.  We must find activities and ways to release that stress.  We should also acknowledge that those who face greater trials than us, and who strive for greater goals, also endure greater levels of stress.  To paraphrase Mark Shepherd, the character who runs the mining operation on Io in the Sci-Fi movie “Outland,” “these people work hard, and then they play hard.” 

But instead of ending this series on Kimi Raikkonen by attempting to justify one aspect of his psyche, I’d rather focus on what he is not known for.  He doesn’t have a reputation for excessive blocking, or knocking his fellow competitors off the track.  He doesn't go public with details of his salary negotiations.  He's never put sensitive team information online.  If his team has done something that the FIA (F1's governing body) might find questionable, he doesn’t threaten to inform on them unless the team meets his demands.  Nor does he have a history of demanding number one status within a team, or playing Machiavellian games with his teammates.  

Kimi Raikkonen may not interact with his engineers the way other drivers do.  As Peter Sauber once said, “He demands, to the point of arrogance, to get his own way.”  He also has a reputation for partying a little too hard.  Some could argue that he might be a multiple world champion had he conducted himself differently.  But statistic and records are not the sole determinate of one's greatness.  For some people, life isn't just about winning: it's also about what they won't do in order to win.

Dragon Dave

Related Internet Links

More about Kimi Raikkonen

X-1 Facts & Photos

Understanding Kimi Raikkonen: Part 5

"Control, control, you must learn control!"

When I was young, my parents signed me up for piano lessons.  I was never given a choice in the matter.  I was simply told, when you’re older, you’ll be glad you learned how to play an instrument.  I cannot say that I enjoyed it when my father dragged me out of bed at six in the morning to practice for an hour before I went off to school, but I endured the regimen, and learned how to play the piano competently enough.  While I don’t practice the piano any more, and rarely play, still, I suppose my parents were right.  At least I know what it’s like to play an instrument, and that’s an aspect of life I would have been completely ignorant of, had I not experienced so much of it when I was young.

Twenty years ago I started watching automobile races.  After awhile, my interest in other series waned, but I never stopped watching Formula One.  To me, these engineering marvels are beautiful, and drivers like Kimi Raikkonen are heroes.  Out of necessity, I performed simple repairs on my car during high school, but that experience hasn’t helped me understand all the complex systems of a Formula One racecar.  Every time I watch the drivers during the race, I’m amazed how they work all the controls, while slammed back into their seats from the acceleration along the straights, taking the perfect line through every corner, and breaking at the very last moment through every turn.  Then, when they come up on a slower car, they’ve got to take a different line, brake in different places, and readjust their controls—in other words, do everything differently--in order to pass it. 

The controls of today’s Formula One cars are all located on the steering wheel.  This allows the driver to keep both hands on or near the wheel while making near-constant adjustments. In Formula 1 ’99 Technical Analysis, author Giorgio Piola depicts a Ferrari steering wheel, and describes the function of all twenty-one controls.  (It’s safe to say that the steering wheels have evolved since then).  Today’s Formula One drivers may not need to work all the buttons, knobs, and paddles during every lap, but some of them, such as gear shift paddles and brake adjustments, are operated dozens, if not hundreds of times each lap.  This reminds me of the cockpit instruments in a fighter jet or a spacecraft, in which the pilot or astronaut must make constant adjustments as he hurtles along at unimaginable speeds. 

While every consideration is made for driver and audience safety, auto racing, just like flying and spaceflight, remains a dangerous sport.  The 1994 San Marino Grand Prix reminded everyone of Murphy’s Law: if anything can go wrong, it eventually will.  When Rubens Barrichello hit a curb wrong during practice, his Jordan launched into the air and crashed into the tire barrier.  Thankfully, he emerged with nothing more than a broken nose and an injured arm.  During qualifying, when his Simtek’s front wing failed, Roland Ratzenberger slammed headfirst into a concrete wall.  He wasn’t so lucky.  J. J. Lehto, not doubt unsettled by his friend Roland’s death, stalled at the start of the race.  Pedro Lamy’s Lotus plowed into Lehto’s Benetton.  The impact hurled debris into the air, some of which flew over the safety fence and into the crowd, in the process injuring nine spectators.  After the restart, something went wrong with Ayrton Senna’s car.  When his Williams suddenly veered off the track, even the triple-champion’s incredible talent and superhuman reflexes couldn’t help him avoid the crash that ended his life.  Finally, ten laps before the end, a wheel worked itself loose as Michele Alboreto’s car left his pits.  The wheel hurtled along pit lane, and struck two Ferrari and two Lotus mechanics, sending all four men to the hospital. 

Despite all the subsequent advances in safety, Formula One remains a dangerous sport, perhaps just as dangerous as the risks involved for an astronaut or a test pilot.  I’m amazed drivers like Kimi Raikkonen, or test pilots like Pete Conrad, work so many controls while traveling so fast.  The closest I could ever come to matching their performances would be if I played the piano in a jazz group, constantly taking cues and changing my performance to match that of the other members of the group.  But to really match my heroes’ performance, I’d need to have the Incredible Hulk standing behind me while I played, constantly pressing my head down, or shoving me to the side, or yanking me back to simulate the G forces of acceleration, turning, and breaking.  And should I play a wrong note, get out of key, break my rhythm, or fail to make any other adjustment quickly enough to match the group’s constantly changing music, the Hulk would slam his fist into me, and knock me to the ground.  Or he would pick me up, grunt, “HULK, SMASH,” and…well, we know what happens then.

Please, Stan Lee and Joss Whedon: don’t get any ideas. 

Dragon Dave

Related Internet Links

Nico Rosberg explains the controls on Mercedes’ steering wheel

Understanding Kimi Raikkonen: Part 4

Drive & Grow Rich by Kimi Raikkonen

Pete Conrad had proven his abilities as a military test pilot, but as Tom Wolfe describes in The Right Stuff, that did not ensure his selection as one of America’s first astronauts.  Test pilots back then objected to any medical tests, but Conrad viewed the testing at the Lovelace Clinic in Albuquerque, New Mexico as especially excessive.  Hooking him up to electrodes to make his muscles move of their own accord was bad enough.  After a slew of extensive tests on his bowels, Conrad marched into the general’s office.  He slammed the latest enema bag on the general’s desk, and declared, “If you want any more enemas from me, from now on you can get ‘em yourself!”

He found the psychological testing at Wright-Patterson Air Force base no more agreeable.  Surrounded by white-garbed officials who asked him bizarre questions, and scribbled down his every reaction, Conrad again went on the offensive.  Presented with a blank sheet of paper and asked to describe what he saw, Conrad studied it for a moment, then said warily, “But it’s upside down.”  Later, he purchased his own notepad, and followed one particularly annoying psychologist around, asking her questions and writing down her responses. 

Needless to say, Pete Conrad did not make the cut as one of America’s first seven astronauts.  That status was accorded to Alan Shepherd, Gus Grissom, Scott Carpenter, John Glenn, Wally Schirra, Deke Slayton, and Gordon Cooper.  Once introduced to the press, these men were accorded the status of King’s Champions.  The public suddenly wanted to know everything about them, not for what they had previously accomplished in their careers, but for how they would take on the almighty USSR in the ultimate battleground of space.  Awards were hurled at their feet, their presence was requested by virtually every company and group in the country, and the public hungered to know everything about the men who would climb into the Project Mercury capsules.  A lucrative deal with Life magazine followed shortly thereafter, a long with all manner of previously unimaginable opportunities to amass their personal wealth.

A similar comparison could be made with today’s Formula One drivers.  At the beginning of each season, every team shows off their new car and drivers.  Although races and championships are won through the efforts of hundreds (if not thousands) of people, it is the two drivers who are heralded as the team’s heroes.  If their previous experience is impressive, it will be trumpeted.  If not, the driver will be announced as The Next Great Driver.  As the season progresses, should the drivers fail to outperform the Goliaths of the higher echelon teams, well, that’s one thing.  But woe betide them if they are consistently outperformed by the Davids of lower ranked teams!

Formula One is a big money sport, but even the richest teams cannot afford to lavish extravagant amounts on drivers unless they believe the person can perform.  Yet so highly did Ron Dennis, then team boss of McLaren, believe in Kimi Raikkonen’s abilities, that by the end of 2001, Kimi’s first season in Formula One, he convinced two-time champion Mika Hakkinen to take a year’s sabbatical.  Instead of paying Mika his usual nine-to-eleven million dollar salary, he paid Mika three million to sit out a year.  Ron Dennis then negotiated with Peter Sauber and Kimi Raikkonen to secure the latter's services for the following season.  He eventually contracted to pay Sauber five million a year for four years to release Kimi from his employment contract with the team, and further agreed to pay Kimi an eight million dollar salary.  Effectively, that meant Ron Dennis paid out sixteen million for Kimi’s first year, as opposed to the nine-to-eleven million he had paid Mika.  This equates to over twenty million in 2012 dollars.  And all this, for a promising but unproven driver.  

Kimi Raikkonen went on to spend five years at McLaren.  Although he never won the championship for Ron Dennis, he finished runner-up twice during a period in which Michael Schumacher and Ferrari forged an unbeatable partnership.  When Michael Schumacher retired at the end of the 2006 season, Kimi took his seat at Ferrari, along with a salary of fifty-one million dollars, and won the championship in 2007, his first year with the team.  But his drives at McLaren and Ferrari, as well as the incredible sums he earned, would never have been his had he not performed well at Sauber, or had he responded like Pete Conrad did when Ron Dennis and McLaren evaluated him as a potential driver.  Sometimes patience, and submitting to others' tests, seems unnecessary.  But we can never rest on our laurels.  While doing our best every day can position us for future opportunities, humility and respect for others will help us win them.

Dragon Dave

Related Internet Links
Team Lotus sings Kimi's praises