Month: July 2023

Observations of the Summer

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Every once in a while, it is instructive to bring back one of the statements of one of our greatest philosophers. Yogi Berra once said, “You can observe a lot by just watching”. That is a true statement, but it requires you to take the time to really observe. Nowadays with the ubiquity of cell phones, people wish to live in their virtual worlds instead of the actual world they live within. The insect shown in the photo above is something that only becomes apparent if you truly observe. We were drinking coffee on our front porch when Carrie said, “What is that on the wall? A bug or a dead leaf?”

We quickly checked our sources. Carrie put it on Facebook, and within about 10 minutes she had an answer. Meanwhile, I googled insect identification sites, and had an answer shortly that matched the answer we received in Facebook. It is a Pandorus Sphinx moth. A harmless species that hides in leaves (near perfect camouflage) in the Eastern US. Our Facebook source told us the name, and shared a reminiscence about a cabin where these moths covered the outer wall one morning.

We do observe things. We heard the first cicada of the summer this week. It is not mid-summer until you hear the rhythmic murmuring of the cicadas advertising for a mate. Quite a life, to live underground as a nymph munching on roots for several years, then digging your way out into the surface world, shedding your nymph coating on some solid surface, and starting to sing your solitary song until joined by another.

It is still not late summer. So far only the males have visited our hummingbird feeders. It will be late summer when we start to see females, and the males lay claim to the feeders as part of their territory. Then you get the aerial acrobatics and fights in flight where the hummers get to show off how much faster they live than other species.

The squirrels have disappointed this year. We have a crop of crab apples that are just dropping slowly onto the spare car below. Up until this year we got to see the squirrels bend and twist, trying to strip the spindly branches of their ruby prizes. We don’t think too many have committed suicide through ill-advised dashes across the street, but they just haven’t gone after something to eat. At least they have left the tomatoes and peppers alone. I am still waiting for the first orb to turn red, inviting me to create the king of sandwiches (BLT). No mano for me, just the moisture from lettuce and the ripe slices of tomato is enough, especially with slices of toasted sourdough.

I’ve seen our neighborhood snake a few times this year. Since we no longer have any cats to torment them, they are able to explore our yard at their pace. So far this year, we haven’t seen any turtles. Margaret Renkl of the New York Times had a wonderful column talking about her turtle Opinion | The Turtle Who Came Back From the Dead – The New York Times (nytimes.com), and its reappearance after a long absence. I still remember the time we saw turtles mating in our back yard, followed by baby turtles emerging from one of our garden patches. But that was several years back.

Soon it will be time to look for the daffodil bulbs crowding the surface. By digging them up, then replanting a few, this gives the opportunity to spread the excess bulbs across the town and the states, sharing the flowers of spring among many. We’ve covered most of our available space with bulbs, so now we are trying to look for perennials that can survive living among the herd of neighborhood deer. I saw one buck who had his antlers already – far too early to see that. But that is the wonder of trying to really observe what is around you. Sometimes you wish you hadn’t observed quite so closely. Like the other night, when we were out at one of our favorite local restaurants, I saw an adolescent boy proudly wearing a t-shirt bearing the image of an assault rifle. Never saw him engage with any of his dining party in conversation. You can imagine there may be problems there in the future. But that is the human world. It is better to observe the world of nature, especially when it shows up literally on our doorstep

Say Riddikulus!

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The world has gone mad today,

And good’s  bad today,

And  black’s white today,

And day’s night today

Cole Porter’s words were written nearly 90 years ago, but much like the words of H. L. Mencken, they resonate with honesty in today’s world. Indeed, much of what is viewed as classic literature over the years is classic because the emotions it describes are still applicable today, regardless of the age of the composition. We went to a Spoleto show recently of a one-man performance of his adaptation of the Illiad. It transported us to the universal human emotions of Homer’s characters, brought forward through time and space.

So maybe it is appropriate to view the world we live in as a single episode in a ballad yet to be written by the Porter, or Mencken, or Homer, or Shakespeare of today, who is able to take the events of the last decade and convert them to a universal meme we can all accept as representative of the world as we are experiencing it.

Certainly I could never conceive of a world where everything became topsy-turvy. Character traits assumed to be virtuous are ridiculed as being out of style and superseded by the need to worship at the feet of our fearless leader. Not only do we need to disparage our predecessors, but we need to actively disrespect them by hiding their secrets in bathrooms. Maybe what we are missing is that Mar-A-Lago is severely short of toilet paper, and the unwritten instructions were to use classified documents as a cleansing aid.

After over seven years, it becomes evident that this movement has a staying power beyond anything I could imagine. My problem is that I’ve tried to understand the logic behind the movement. Like many of my peers, I am unable to understand the movement through any sort of logical analysis. It just does not make sense logically. Therefore, I must assume all of the reason behind its success is due to its appeal to an emotional need on behalf of its adherents.

So we shall try to understand the emotions behind the movement, recognizing I will necessarily do a poor job since I do not share the emotional state of many supporters. I must assume that following a charismatic leader fulfils some deep, unmet need within the psyche of those who have succumbed to its wiles. Since many of the most ardent adherents are those who profess a firm and literal belief in God and God’s word, it is necessary to assert that following someone as an infallible figure is more emotionally satisfying than trying to get that same emotional satisfaction in raising your arms and hollering hallelujah.

There is nothing that stirs the soul up more than feeling you are minimized by the dominant culture. And certainly the culture wars stirred up by this movement reflect the minimization felt by these people over the past 60-70 years. Ever since an imperious Supreme Court told people they had to open up their schools to “those creatures”, removed prayer from school, enabled hussies to obtain abortions, and declared that the Constitution meant what it said when it was amended to ensure all people were covered by its clauses, they awaited their opportunity to wreak revenge. Owning the libs became more important than any economic accomplishment that might be simultaneously torn down. Though most couldn’t define the word, they became nihilists.

Yes, that describes the fault line running through the heart of the United States. Those who have more education, and are more comfortable with critical thinking, are more likely to lean Democratic in their vote. Those who prefer to be told what to think, who react emotionally to expressed threats, especially directed against their young, now tend to lean Republican in their political positions. So we are in a battle where logic must fight emotion, and throughout human history, emotion has prevailed far more often than logic. I am convinced it is not possible to convert someone who acts on the basis of their emotions, to suddenly see the errors of their way through exposure to a logical argument. One must fight emotion with emotion.

One of the fantasy spells in the Harry Potter books was “Riddikulus”. This spell was to be used to destroy the deepest fear buried deep in the person’s psyche. The magical creature Boggarts would assume the form of the deepest fear of someone, and it became necessary to cast the spell “Riddikulus” while simultaneously imagining some ludicrous idea that the Boggart would assume to obliterate the fear. What we need is a national spell of “Riddikulus” where we would convert the form of the fearless leader to an object of derision. Given the many foibles of the once and hopefully never future leader, it is easy to conjure up an image capable of inspiring loathing. Indeed, some of the endless parade of candidates who have declared for the Presidency sense this, as they tout their athletic prowess as a way of contrasting their fitness to the would-be returner to the throne. Does anyone find it abnormal that the only person drawing any physical taunts from the pulpit bully is Chris Christie, the only other candidate who may have more visible fat than does the Donald?

So pick your image. You might choose the sight of those magnificent buttocks as he attempts to return a tennis ball. You might pick an image of him driving his golf cart down the fairway as he solves the world’s problems on a course. You might have the image of him waddling down a ramp (now that’s really unfair. I had two bad knees and could empathize with him not dealing well with uneven surfaces.) But I think my very favorite “Riddikulus” moment was early in the pandemic, where he was suggesting the ingestion of antiseptics while flooding the body with cleansing light. Would that he would have taken his own advice, we would not be in this position today.

Adieu, Sweet Blinky

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For the first time in 47 years, I am not sharing my home with a cat. We had to put our nearly nineteen-year old cat Blinky down yesterday, and the pain still resonates within me. Blinky had pretty much stopped eating over the last week. With great work, he showed some appetite for plain tuna in water, just the sort of thing that would trigger his thyroid condition. We had made the appointment for the veterinarian yesterday, and he confirmed Blinky had lost 25% of his body weight just in the past two months. Dr. Patton helped us through the process, as he had with several other cats before Blinky. We brought him back to his home in a bag for burial today along with his predecessors out in our woods.

We had managed older cats with thyroid issues for a while. Blinky’s brother, Napoleon, did not die of thyroid issues, but of lung cancer nearly 4 years earlier. We had managed Blinky’s care with prescription food that kept iodine out of his diet. We should have taken more notice when he quit eating the dry food a few months ago, but his appetite for the canned food seemed adequate. Then he had a stretch where he wouldn’t eat anything, so we got some canned tuna to try to tempt him into eating anything. That seemed to work, so we also tried canned chicken since it should have less iodine (still trying to keep his thyroid in check). But even that failed, and we were forced to go to plain tuna in order to try to keep him going.

It is hard when you have been the protector, and the source of all things good for an animal, but you realize you can’t help him anymore. He would look at me patiently, assured that I could make it better, but I couldn’t. His plaintive meows indicated he wanted food, but when he was given some he just sniffed it and licked it, then turned away. He liked the thought of food, but his appetite was gone.

Cats are hedonists. They revel in their own pleasures, and if you can help that by providing food they like, a warm lap to sit in, a place where they can catch rays of sun, then you are fulfilling your duties as a cat parent. When Blinky’s brother died, we knew this day was coming, when our hedonistic cat no longer found pleasure in his life’s activities. We could have waited for a completely natural end. But we were certain that would have caused pain and suffering, and Blinky did not deserve that. So with tears in our eyes, we drove to our veterinarian’s place of business (I have tears running down my cheeks as I write this). Normally we would be accompanied on this drive by a strong string of complaints, but this time the complaints seemed half-hearted, and totally stopped for a good portion of the drive.

Blinky had a long and I’d like to believe a happy life. For nearly 15 years, he shared our house with his brother, until cancer claimed him. We met him and his brother when they took up residence in the engine block of a car that our neighbor across the street was ready to junk. We took Blinky and his brother in, segregating them for a few days until we could get a clean bill of health from our vet (the same Dr. Patton), and then introduced them to our other three cats. Over the years, the others departed, leaving the two thyroid challenged cats alone. Finally, with Napoleon’s death, we were down to a single cat. We would have gotten more, but the logistics of trying to deal with feeding where you wanted to keep the $50 bag of cat food away from any cat without dietary restrictions kept us from getting any more cats.

For years, Blinky and his brother were the champions of their realm. Then, a cat (Harold) moved in across the street, and their reign came to an end. Instead of keeping our yard clear of voles and chipmunks, the cats became reluctant to go outside. We still remember the time Blinky appeared on our kitchen’s window ledge, making that weird noise when their mouth is occupied with prey. Blinky had a chipmunk, and was so proud of his accomplishment. He put the prey down, and accepted praise, but as soon as he put down the chipmunk, it vamoosed. Just playing possum in its own desperate attempt to survive.

Blinky took about two days to tell that the heat was turned on each year in the fall. He had his own heat vent he claimed as his own. Since he was a black cat, he brought back my thermodynamic memories of black body radiation, and I often wondered about the equilibrium temperature he achieved by absorbing the heat, then distributing it back.

There is a whole range of Blinky stories we hold in our hearts and memories, like the time when he was still a kitten, but had managed to climb up our butternut tree and get temporarily stuck. He was at eye level with us on our deck, which with the slope of the yard, meant he was up about 20’. That was a time he was able to get down himself, and he never got stuck up a tree again.

We will undoubtedly get new cats. As Carrie posted the news about Blinky on Facebook, we became aware of a bunch of kittens ready for adoption in about a month. The number of available cats almost always exceeds the number of loving households to take them in. But when they do enter your life, it is amazing how much they can integrate into your heart. Especially if you have nearly nineteen years to share with them. Rest well, Blinky. We miss you.

An American Fable

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Photo by Tunde Olaniron through CNN

Once upon a time, there was a nation where everything was peachy-keen. Nobody was discriminated against, everyone was judged by their character rather than their skin color, and the nation had never been guilty of anything bad ever happening in its glorious history. Into that country slinked some naughty evil people, who stole an election from the rightful winners, and went on to impose all manner of bad rulings and total debauchery.

Fortunately, the good guys (because of course, it was guys since you can never depend upon that other sex to do anything resembling logical and virtuous behavior) came up with a plan to reinstate their glorious leader and set our nation upon its righteous path again. Who could object to that?

Oh, but of course the evil people wouldn’t stand for that. They insisted upon reminding us that this nation had not always behaved honorably. There were times where we didn’t give those who appeared different from us an even break. They even had the audacity to remind us that 350 years of subjugation could not be overcome with 60 years of legal equality. Why, by gum and by golly, if those who aren’t true Americans can’t overcome the disadvantages they are up against, then they don’t deserve any consideration at all. Can’t see giving them any sort of a hand-out. They’d only want more, and they’d take that from all of us who really deserve to be respected and honored.

Well, we will just have to make certain that our young’uns never hear about any of these past issues. After all, we now are past any of the sins of our long-ago ancestors. None of us have ever enslaved anyone. And just remember, it was our ancestors as honorable northerners who fought and bled to free those slaves. You know those others, who fought against the northerners and wanted to keep slavery as an economic system? Why, they just were trying to stand up for state’s rights. Certainly people could understand the lily-white motives of the good people on both sides? We would never have any sort of remembrance of that, no torch-lit parades of marchers, would we?

Oh, but of course we are conflating issues here. See, much of the problems that we have is due to those few people who follow Judeo-Christian religious beliefs, but only the first part of that hyphenated word. You know, that small group who somehow manages to worm their way into controlling all of us, the true Americans. You can see them as they spread their tentacles over all of our media. That is why we have to scrub all of our media, in order to ensure that any images reaching our precious children show no traces of the struggles of humanity.

Why, any suggestion that we might not represent the ultimate pinnacle of evolution needs to be stricken from any historical source. If we remove all traces, and ensure that our precious children never have to feel uncomfortable about actions of their ancestors, then we can move forward and claim our prize. Just like if we expunge the historical record of the foul stench of impeachment, it will be as if it never happened. See? If we’d only have discovered how easy it is to alter the past, we’d never have any actions to repudiate in the future.

Now, I know some of you are feeling just a mite uncomfortable with the thought we can change the past. Let me assure you of all of the successful movements of the past where this has borne fruit. We all remember the thousand-year Reich, right? That pinnacle of man’s glorious accomplishment where we all celebrated the purification of our race? There’s no finer example of how successful we can be if we but emulate those in our recent past. Why, I have no patience for those who dare to declare any words which minimize our ascendancy atop humanity’s peak. Since we’ve learned the trick of reversing anything unpleasant in the past, we’ve certainly learned how to get rid of any mention of the victims of those who dared to be different than the objectives of those who ran the Third Reich. Now those people would never have a reason to lie.

Look, if you don’t believe in the goodness of those who want to run this country, just look at all of those who support them. You couldn’t find a more honorable group than those evangelical followers who have not quite internalized the lessons of the Beatitudes. They are the ones who believe in the inherent goodness of concealed carry without a permit. They are the ones who embody the life of the gospels by turning away all strangers, since they might be carrying fentanyl. And everyone knows it is not their fault if someone shows up at their door without explicit permission, thus incurring a lead baptism. Why, if we have these God-given rights, would we not want to exercise them to their fullest extent?

I’m tired of trying to explain to others how wrong they are. Since they refuse to accept their faults, I feel justified in using my fist to impose a little ‘larnin upside their head. If we do that enough, surely they will begin to pick up some sense. Least that’s what I think.