OLD TRICKS NEVER, EVER FADE AWAY.

St. Louis may seem a long way from the environmental tragedy going on in the Gulf of Mexico. Yet, for me it seems closer. This great Mississippi River that runs along our banks has been married to the Gulf a long time. The River feeds the wetlands that give shelter to a Universe of living creatures who in turn protect and feed fish, fowl, people and the Gulf waits expectantly for the River to nourish it.

It seemed to me, that a moratorium for offshore drilling could provide a respite from some of the cruelty we have viciously unleashed on what was once an environmental and geographic marvel. It could also provide time to ask ourselves, how far should we push the technological envelope and for what reason?

So it was with horror that I read Ian Urbina's report (NYT 6-24) that BP, three miles off the coast of Alaska ".. is moving ahead with a controversial and potentially record setting project to drill two miles under the sea and then six to eight miles horizontally to reach what is believed to be a 100-million-barrel reservoir of oil under federal waters.

"State and federal environmental permits have been granted as an 'on shore' project: because it sits on an artificial island - a 31-acre pile of gravel in about 22 feet of water - built by BP. BP has yet to file its final application to federal regulators to begin drilling, which it expects to start in the fall."

The trick of "creating land" with gravel is not new. It can be seen by the number of existing businesses, piers and homes built on gravel up and down the Inland Water Way. But this one takes the cake! Maybe federal and state regulators ought to take a trip along the Inland Water Way before they grant anymore waivers for BP's "off shore" drilling.

LANGUAGE: FAMILIAR AND OTHERWISE

I speak, read and write in English. Thanks to immigrant grandparents, I understand most Yiddish, but I am unable to speak or read it with great fluency. My understanding of the Spanish and Latin language that I took in school was less than satisfactory. But when I hear a foreign language spoken I know it is not English and I am never shy about asking what it is.

Recently I overheard strangers having an animated conversation in a language I did not recognize. When I could, I asked what language it was they were speaking. I was told it was Amharic, the Ethiopian Language. From that I learned that they had immigrated to America about six years ago. Asked what brought them to St. Louis, they said other family who had settled here.

After our brief conversation, I realized there is much to learn from the many languages spoken in our country. And much to learn about the many rich cultures that language represents, none of it belittling to English nor to America's history.

LEAD, COMPROMISE, AND NEGOTIATE

I am interviewing people in the corporate and not for profit fields for an article I am writing. I ask them about their experience. Then we discuss management issues that could be applicable to both fields.

At the end of one interview, my subject and I began to speak of our grandchildren and the pleasure they bring. He is especially close with his youngest granddaughter. They speak almost every day by telephone. On the child's eight birthday, he promised to take her to New York for her sixteenth birthday. He told her it would be a private trip for just the two of them. He was describing all the things they could see and do when his granddaughter interrupted him. "But grandpa, I am eight! That means I will have to wait the whole rest of my life until I am sixteen!" He paused for a moment and proposed a compromise. "Then let's do it on your 12th birthday." The offer was accepted with enthusiasm.

Whether he realized it or not, he had just given me a short parable about an important principle for successful management, lead, compromise and negotiate.

THE PLEASURE OF SMALL STORES

Recently, my digital wrist watch was not keeping time. I asked a number of friends if they knew where I might find a small watch repair shop. All directed me to a suburban mall. When it comes to services like watch repair, or shoe repair, or even gifts I prefer a small shop.

I was complaining to my grandson Hoben that I had been without a wrist watch for nearly two weeks because I could not find a small watch repair shop. We were in the car. He suggested a shop that might be helpful on the road we were on.
We stopped there. Sure enough, the watch repair men were sitting in a glass enclosure with their special glasses and head gear working away diligently. Jewelry counters, antique furniture and music boxes of all sorts filled the rest of the store.

As I waited for my watch, we spotted a standing music box. We were able to see through the glass door. The box contained about 6 or 7 metal discs. Each disc was about 18" inches round with holes in it much like old player piano rolls, only the metal discs were standing upright. We wound it up. When the 1882 music box worked, we were delighted and fascinated by the machinery running it.

For my money, it is only in small, out of the way shops that one can have such an unexpected experience. And all I wanted to do was replace a digital battery for my wrist watch.