When the world’s leaders get together in a place called Rusutsu, Japan, and agree to cut global greenhouse gas emissions by 50 percent by 2050, it sounds like something a long way away that could hardly mean anything to folks in Monroe County.

And, it is true, most experts pooh-pooh the move as meaningless rhetoric.

But few places in the world have more at stake than Monroe County. How many other communities have two coal-fired power plants - not to mention a cement plant.

From the perspective of the world, the critics are probably right. It’s too little, too late, and isn’t likely to make any kind of an impact on the health of the planet.

From our perspective here in Monroe County, it could mean a lot if it leads to tougher controls on greenhouse gas emissions.

Most Monroe County residents want clean air. They appreciate the steps that DTE, Consumers Energy and Holcim have made to clean up their emissions. Many probably would support tighter controls that would make the air even cleaner and do our part to slow global warming. And we also have a nuclear plant and another on the drawing boards - one of the best solutions to burning more carbon.

But most Monroe County residents don’t support controls that would cost the community thousands of jobs.

The leaders of the world’s most powerful countries appeared to dodge any real commitment to cutting pollution. There are lots of reasons for their hesitation. Those reasons are understood better in Monroe County than in most places.

I spent a few minutes this morning on the Alexander Zonjic radio show at the River Raisin Centre for the Arts. Mr. Zonjic is the morning host on WVMV-FM Smooth Jazz V98.7, and today he was broadcasting live from Monroe.

I was one of several Monroeites who were interviewed by the talented jazz flutist/dj. The point was to promote the seventh annual River Raisin Jazz Festival and the May 2 performance of Spyro Gyra at the River Raisin Centre for the Arts.

One of the themes of discussion between Mr. Zonjic and his guests was the remarkable success of the Jazz Festival and the winter Jazz Series in Monroe.

As I said on the air, Monroe is a surprising place. The ability to pull off a big-time jazz festival in our little town is just one more reason Monroe has a much higher quality of life than outsiders would expect.

On the surface, there is not much of a connection between Jazz and Monroe. Monroe was settled by the French, and so was New Orleans. And we both had famous War of 1812 battles. Anything else?

But somehow the River Raisin Jazz Festival, the winter Jazz Series and the summer Jazz Thursday nights have been big hits.

Surprising, but really cool.

There’s no doubt about it, the Big Read is a cool concept.

Getting thousands of people in one community to read the same book and then discuss it can be a powerful process - especially when the book is as thought-provoking as “To Kill a Mockingbird.”

The novel by Harper Lee explores racism in the fictional town of Maycomb, Alabama, in the 1930s.

What’s that have to do with Monroe, Michigan, in the 20th century?

It was clear to me from the Big Read panel discussion on diversity last night that “Mockingbird” offers plenty of lessons for Monroe in 2008.

There seemed to be general agreement from the panel members that racism still exists in Monroe. It’s more subtle than 70 years ago. It’s closely tied to socio-economics - that is, the combination of poverty and racism together are a tougher foe than either by itself. But it’s still evident - in the segregation of the “East Side,” in achievement levels in school, in arrest and conviction rates in the judicial system.

One of the themes throughout both “Mockingbird” and last night’s discussion was that education is the most powerful tool we have in the battle against racism. The more people look beyond their narrow circle, the more they expand their horizons by reading and studying others’ thoughts and ideas, the more likely they’ll embrace people who aren’t like them and be tolerant of diverse cultures and lifestyles.

Another theme that ran through both the novel and the panel was the importance of parenting. Atticus Finch, the lawyer in the novel who defended a young black man accused of raping a white woman, constantly, patiently, explained to his children the importance of putting yourself in others’ shoes - viewing life from their perspective. It’s not an accident that Atticus raised thoughtful, respectful children, and his closed-minded sister raised spiteful, bigoted children.

Perhaps, in my opinion, the most important theme from the book and the panel was the interpersonal role we all can play. In “Mockingbird,” Atticus Finch wasn’t just a rich lawyer who defended poor black people. He was a friend and companion of everyone in his small town, whether they were black housekeepers or poor white sharecroppers.

A highlight for me of the panel discussion was the audience member (I wish I had caught his name, maybe someone can add it in a comment) who asked the panel members if any of them had personal friends of another race - implying that ending racism is a one-on-one issue.

I agree with the point he seemed to be making. Monroe County, for all its faults, is a wonderful place filled with caring, decent people. They’re quick to help a neighbor or a stranger, and they’re willing to step up and make a difference when needed.

For the most part, they live with the subtle racism that still pervades our community because it doesn’t touch their daily lives, doesn’t affect them in any way they notice. It’s easy to ignore something that you don’t see. If they were more aware of the problem, I’m convinced they would want to be part of the solution.

That’s why the Big Read and panel discussions like last night can be so valuable. They help us come face-to-face with issues we otherwise just let slip by.

Racism continues to be a serious problem in America. But we don’t have to look to the Mexican border or the inner city of Detroit to find it. It’s right here in Monroe County.

And the solution is right here, too. In education, in parenting, and in each of us.

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It was a privilege for me to be a member of the panel with Judge Pamela A. Moskwa, chief probate judge for Monroe County; Larry Arreguin, vice president of government affairs for VisionIT and chairman of the Hispanic/Latino Caucus of the Michigan Democratic Party; Kelvin McGhee, Monroe City Council, third precinct; and Jeffrey Kodysh, editor of The Agora. Also thanks to MCCC and the staff of the Agora for hosting the event.

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If part of the problem is that Monroe County residents aren’t as aware of race problems as they should be, part of the blame must fall to The Monroe Evening News. What are your thoughts on what the newspaper and its Web sites should do to help raise awareness of race issues in the county. Please share them here, or send me a private note at danshaw@monroenews.com

Within five minutes into my run today, I knew something wasn’t quite right.

I felt tired, lethargic. I wanted to stop.

But I perservered. Anyone who runs knows that sometimes there are days like that. The best thing to do is just keep running; often the feeling goes away and what starts out as a dreadful experience turns into a great one.

But that didn’t happen today. I kept going, completing my 5-mile loop. But it was hard.

Then, as I sat in the kitchen drinking a glass of cranberry juice, it hit me. I gave blood yesterday.

And it wasn’t the normal pint. I did the “double red blood cell” thing. It involves taking about twice as much blood, running it through a centrifuge to separate out the red blood cells, then pumping the plasma back into you.  They don’t allow you to give blood again for twice as long, so I imagine it takes more out of you physically.

I asked the nurse, a tall, strapping guy named Mike, if it was okay to run the next day after giving blood. He said, sure, just to drink plenty of liquids.

Well, he’s right. It didn’t seem to hurt me. But it sure slowed me down.

Other than it’s affect on my next-day run, giving blood was again a great experience.

The Rotary Club sponsored the blood drive at the Monroe YMCA. As a member of the club, I work at the blood drive each year and it’s a real joy. So many people donating a few minutes of their day and a pint of their blood to save someone else’s life. And most do it with a smile and a look of satisfaction. It’s a great room to spend a few hours working in.

Whether volunteering - my job yesterday was helping folks get snacks and a beverage after they donate - or giving  blood, it’s one of those experiences in life that causes you to walk a little lighter the rest of the day (no pun intended), knowing that you’ve done a good thing.

And it’s one of the easiest ways to feel good. You just lay there on a cot for a few minutes, watching the bag slowly fill with blood. You can’t help but imagine where your blood is going, and who will benefit from your donation.

When you give double red blood cells, it’s even more rewarding. You watch the blood fill one bag, then go into the cenrifuge and come out, filling another bag with plasma. After a few minutes, you feel the pump switch, and it begins sending the plasma back into your arm. The tube changes from red to pale white. You feel a little tingle, starting in your arm and spreadng through your body. It’s not a bad feeling; more interesting than anything else.

When the plasma bag is empty, the process reverses again, the tube changes back to red and the blood bag begins to fill. After the plasma bag empties a second time, you’re finished.

And as you step down from the cot, you know that someone, somewhere, may live because they desperately needed a transfusion of red blood cells - and you took a few minutes out of your day to help.

That’s quite a feeling.

In his column this week, Tom Treece talked about vivid memories from a moment years ago that are sometimes triggered by simple daily occurrences.

In Tom’s case, he referred to hearing on the radio that the Paris Peace Accord was signed, ending the Vietnam War. As a veteran of the jungles of ‘Nam, that moment was significant to him; it only takes a steaming cup of coffee to prompt the memories.

We all have those recollections. Whether of momentous times, like the death of a president or the explosion of a space shuttle, or small, private moments, they’re there, just below our conscious selves, ready to surface when stimulated.

That’s why Tom’s column resonated with me. Coffee brings back some of my own memories, and some of them also involve the Vietnam War.

Not that I was there on the front line. Far from it. Like Tom, I was in the generation that was called to fight another war on the far side of the globe that made no more sense than the current war in Iraq. But unlike Tom, I had a college deferment and then a high lottery number.

I’m neither proud nor ashamed that I stayed home while some of my friends fought and died, or fought and returned home changed forever. That’s just the way it was.

So what are my Vietnam coffee memories?

I started drinking coffee the summer during college when I worked driving trucks filled with peppermint from the farm fields to the processing plant. I had the 7 p.m. to 7 a.m. shift - hence the need for coffee.

One night the trucks, about four of them, were lined up along the edge of a dark field. It was well past midnight, and we were waiting for the next truck to be filled by the harvester. One of the drivers, who was a couple years older than me and a distant acquaintance - he had been a star athlete in a nearby high school - had just returned from Vietnam.

I was in that dim state of consciousness just short of sleep when a man landed, as if dropped from the night sky, on the hood of my truck. I think I screamed, or nearly so, as he fired imaginary shots at me through the windshield from an imaginary gun in his hands. Then he leapt to the next truck, dispatched that driver the same way, and jumped again to the next.

It only took a few moments to realize that our athletic Vietnam veteran was having a terrible flashback, reliving the horrors of war at our expense. After finishing us off, he ran into the nearby woods and disappeared. I finished my cup of coffee.

No one was hurt. He never returned to the job. The memory should have dimmed to the far reaches of my mind, hardly a memory any more at all.

But sometimes when I drink a cup of coffee, when it’s particular refreshing or rewarding, I remember that first summer of Java, when I picked up a lifelong habit I don’t regret, whatever the latest study says about the evils of caffeine.

And that inevitably leads to that dark recollection of a Vietnam veteran caught up in his own haunted memories.

It’s not far from there to begin thinking about how many other young boys are returning from war today with their own tragic moments to relive.

The secret back entrance to Sterling State Park - which is slated some day to be a bike path from downtown Monroe to the park - is a delightful surprise.

When my wife and I decided to attend the fireworks Tuesday night at Sterling, we also decided to try out the path. We’ve reported on its existence in The Evening News a couple times, and Mike Ingels showed details on how to find the path on his blog, Expatriate Monroe, about a month ago (see it here).

It may be legal to take the path, or it may not be. The signs when you come to the gate are about as confusing as you can get. One says “No tresspassing,” another says “Property open to waterfowl only,” followed by, “Foot entry at this point only.”

Does that mean that ducks are okay, but only if they walk? No flying allowed?

My wife, Kathy, and I decided that we would interpret the “Foot entry at this point only,” to mean that walkers were allowed.

I don’t know what that says about the several bicyclists who passed us along the way. But I’m guessing they assumed that “foot entry” really means no cars or motorcycles; bicycles are okay.

The trail leaves Elm Street across from the Clamdigger Restaurant, just west of Interstate 75. It crosses under I-75 after a few hundred feet, then heads north for a mile or so along a tree-lined path that appears to be a former road. If it wasn’t for the freeway noise, it would be an fine outdoors experience.

Then it turns 90-degrees away from the freeway and heads toward Lake Erie and Sterling State Park, following a dike with water on both sides. As the sound of cars and trucks fades into the background, the walk becomes better and better. By the time you connect to Sterling State Park’s nature trails - probably a mile or more from the freeway - it’s an exceptional walking experience.

We saw numerous rabbits and groundhogs, and one muskrat swam along next to us for several feet, daring us to reach out and touch it. I consider myself a real Monroeite now that I’ve been up-close and personal with a muskrat.

The trail also took us next to American lotus beds and several close-by sightings of heron and egrets. It’s exactly what Monroe needs - a quality walking/biking experience that can start in downtown Monroe and end up on Lake Erie.

The city and county folks working on completing the bike path have a great plan. It will be a wonderful addition to the community.

Oh, and the fireworks were pretty good, too.

p.s. Look to The Evening News soon for an explanation of what the signs really mean. We’ll be asking, and we’ll pass on the answer.

The U.S. Census figures released this week show Monroe County is still growing - although much more slowly.

That probably can be credited to two things: Monroe County’s economy is stronger than most of the rest of Michigan, and it’s a desirable place to live, so some city dwellers looking for a slower lifestyle still are finding their way here.

The flood of newcomers that saw the county’s population explode in the 10-year period from 1995 to 2005 is over, however - or at least postponed.

The county’s population was 133,600 in 1990, and 145,945 in 2000. In 2005, it had grown to 153,772. In 2006, the figure was up to 155,035, according to Census Bureau estimates, about 1 percent growth year-to-year.

It seems silly, given the state of the economy, to worry about controlling growth. The number of new building permits and housing starts has dropped to a standstill. It’s likely that 2007 growth will be even slower than 2006.

But we shouldn’t let that lull us into thinking that growth has stopped and that efforts to improve our planning process to manage future growth aren’t important.

There are literally thousands of homesites already platted in Monroe County, waiting for the economy to turn around. And when it does, there could be a landslide of construction.

A series of stories in The Evening News last September, called “Our Changing Landscape,” warned of the future dangers of urban sprawl to our lifestyle. The danger is still very real, even if it’s on hold.

Now is the time for city, county, village and township officials to figure out a strategy for the future - one that includes a lot more joint planning and cooperation.

One township, village or city can’t solve it’s own planning problems. They’re too interconnected with their neighbors.

The county planning department held a workshop earlier this year on managing growth. It was a good beginning of the conversation. But it was only a beginning.

As a community that treasures our rural and small-town lifestyle, we can’t wait until the growth returns to plan for it.

The city of Monroe and the state of Michigan find themselves in similar straits - dealing with painful change.

In a way, we’re at the end of an era. Michigan has been a high-tax, high-level-of-services state for many years. The wealth that was generated by the auto industry was spread throughout the state, creating an impressive quality of life and plenty of money to finance excellent state services.

As the auto industry has dwindled, so has state revenue. We’re entering a new period in our history when Michigan no longer is among the richest states.

Our governor and legislators are engaged in the very difficult task of figuring out what level of taxes and services we want in the Michigan of the future. Some downsizing of state government makes sense. We don’t have the same level of wealth.

Too much downsizing and it will become a self-fullfilling prophecy. State services will drop below the level necessary to rebuild our economy, attract and retain businesses and maintain a high quality of life. Not enough downsizing and we’ll have a level of taxes the econony can’t support, discouraging new development.

The same goes for Monroe. Taxes in Monroe have historically been higher than neighboring townships, and the level of services has been higher. But as the economy has struggled - closely connected to the economy of Michigan - the city budget is facing deficits.

The same process of downsizing - finding the right balance of taxes and services - is under way in Monroe, too. The operations study that suggests cutting up to 29 city jobs is being discussed tonight by Monroe City Council. Mayor Al Cappuccilli, city manager George Brown and the city council deserve credit for hiring a consultant to study the situation and make impartial recommendations.

There should be plenty of analysis and debate before decisions are made on the proposed cuts, which add up to $1.4 million in annual savings. But the guiding principle should be the same as at the state level - finding the proper balance of taxes and services to maintain the highest quality of life possible, without stifling further development.

These are interesting times in public life. Perhaps historic times. 

A comment by William Morris, president of the Monroe County Industrial Develpment Corp., got me thinking.

Morris was commenting on the fact that the number of businesses in Monroe County is down in the most recent census report.  You can read the entire article from The Sunday News here.

“With the layoffs and early retirements and buyouts, it seems you would have a lot of people forming new businesses,” Morris said.

Good point.

Thousands of smart, hard-working poeple have lost their jobs in the auto industry. Morris is right; it seems like that should lead to an increase in new businesses.

When Pittsburgh’s steel industry collapsed in the 1980s, it led to a tidal wave of new small businesses. Pittsburgh’s renaissance was built on the foundation of new entrepreneurs who were forced into mid-career changes when their jobs disappeared.

Is there something about Michigan’s culture that is different than Western Pennsylvania’s?

I’ve lived in both places, and I can tell you that residents of both states are deeply rooted. When they lose their jobs, they don’t want to move away.

Both also are blessed with great universities, an important ingredient when it comes to re-building an economy. And both suffer from low overall education levels - a legacy of the good-paying jobs in the steel and auto industries that didn’t require a college degree.

Pittsburgh has a reputation for toughness. So does Detroit. They’re both blue collar cities with strong work ethics. 

So, what’s the difference? Maybe it’s too early to tell. Maybe the surge in new businesses created by laid-off workers in Michigan is still below the radar and will surface soon.

I was in a conversation in the early 1990s with Morris’ counterpart in Allegheny County, where Pittsburgh is located. He told story after story of engineers and accountants and union steelworkers who started businesses from scratch and five years later were employing 15 or 25 or 50 people.

Pittsburgh went from an economy dominated by some of the largest companies in the country - names like U.S. Steel and Pittsburgh Glass - to an economy dominated by small and medium-sized businesses and a much more diverse employment base.

The loss of manufacturing jobs is killing Michigan’s economy. But if those laid-off workers become entrepreneurs, today’s recession can be a building block for tomorrow’s comeback.

It’s not every day that a former industrial site is imploded in a scheduled, public event. 

Estimates were that more than 500 people watched demolition crews blow up the former Jefferson Smurfit Paper Plant’s smoke stack and water tower this morning.

It was quite a show. But some people were angry because only the smoke stack and water tower were blown up, not the entire building.

Here is an excerpt from an e-mail that came shortly after the event from retired Evening News copy editor Henry Passenger:

“Those same hundreds were upset (some almost angry) when it turned out that the implosion was limited to the water tower (behind the trees and shrubs) and smokestack (behind the building).”

Henry and others pointed out that the story in The Evening News Wednesday said the Smurfit building would be imploded.

Sorry, our mistake. It was never the intention to suggest that the entire building would be part of the explosion - just the more dramatic parts, the tower and stack.

The rest of the building will be destroyed in more traditional fashion, with bulldozers and other heavy equipment.

Still, the giant smoke stack made a dramatic, if short-lived, fall from the sky. You can see the video of the crash, followed by interviews with some people who watched and others who worked at the plant, by clicking here.