Category: Human Interest

Say, Hey!

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And yet another of my childhood heroes is gone. This time it is the one baseball player who was acclaimed as the best of all time, Wilie Mays. Back in the ‘60’s, he helped me to become a fan of the San Francisco Giants. I had migrated from being a fan of the New York Yankees (after all, they had Yogi Bear as a player), to the St. Louis Cardinals, in their heyday of the ‘60’s. But it was the Giants, with Mays, McCovey, and Marichal who captured my imagination. I still have a baseball glove that bears Bobby Bond’s signature.

To those who have a hard time imagining what being a baseball fan in the middle of the country in the 1960’s was like, put yourself in the position of only seeing one game a week on TV. Voices like Dizzy Dean and Pee Wee Reese broadcast the images directly to me. The beer ads that permeated the air waves bore images of Bears and an old pro for an unidentifiable sport. Ads for cars featured people like Dinah Shore entreating us to “see the USA, in our Chevrolet”. Then came the game. I remember pitching matchups like Marichal and Gibson, Juan with his signature high kick, and Gibson just being dominant. Above all, there was the grace and power of Willie Mays, who could overcome the winds of Candlestick to blast another homer. I was too young to argue who was the best center fielder in New York – Snider, or Mantle, or Mays. When I became aware of baseball, the moves to the West Coast were fait accompli. So I never knew the Dodgers or the Giants as New York teams, they belonged to the West Coast. But they were featured prominently on “The Game of the Week”.

I have often wondered how Marichal would fare if he tried to use that leg kick today. When coaches are measuring the hundredths of a second for a ball to get to the catcher, those few extra moments where the leg went up to the sky would seem a useless luxury. But for the batter, who didn’t know what type of pitch was coming his way, that high leg kick was just part of the agony of waiting.

There is a feeling that things were so much better back in the past. Surely we were watching baseball at its peak. But I just saw a game this week which brought me back to those images I remember so well. It was Keller vs. Greene, and the game was scoreless into the 8th inning. Mitch Keller reminds me of Marichal, having such a wide array of pitches, and seemingly he will be the one to complete the most games during each year. The only thing I can say about the decline of the game is that the supporting cast for the team’s stars may not be as strong as it was in the ‘60’s, with people like Hart, and Cepeda, and McCovey being replaced by those who seem to struggle to reach the Mendoza line. It would be inconceivable to have regulars in a line-up who bat below .200 back in the olden days. Now? With pitching so dominant, and with home runs being so venerated, it is the strike-out that seems more frequent than ever. It used to be an anomaly to strike out over 100 times in a year. Now? It is becoming rare to see someone strike out fewer than 100 times over the course of a season.

 There are a few today who approach the level of a Mays. Aaron Judge seems capable of putting seasons together with similar statistics. It is only when you realize that Mays kept up a level of excellence for two decades that you become able to place Willy properly among the luminaries of baseball. And I do remember the last two years back with the Mets, where it was obvious that the athleticism had waned. Just like for me, where I came into the world on the day that Willy Mays made “The Catch”, I can feel my powers fading a bit as I near the 70th anniversary of my own birth.

But I guess part of the charm of baseball is the endless arguments about the players of the current age vs. those of your youth. They always were a reflection of your own youth, and just as they embodied virility and endless possibility, you took on a share of their vitality as part of your own. Now? Baseball is just too slow to capture the attention of today’s youth, since it requires you to spend actual time watching innings in order to have any appreciation for the game. My only thought is at least a bat flip will match the typical Instagram attention span.

An Ode to the Orange Road Flower

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Harbinger of spring

You coat the road fringes

Blooming across the landscape

Yet often you’re cursed

Pointing our way

Avoid that road work

Slow down! You move too fast

Blooming both night and day

When work is done

You still stand guard

Until you are picked

And planted once more

No one mourns you

When you sacrifice yourself

Body all mangled

A median of plastic carnage

Do you dream of quiet?

A placid scene?

Tranquil lanes of idleness

While worlds pass you by

Come winter you sleep

Awaiting your moment

When once more

You stand guard for us all

Life with Kittens

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Kittens about 1 month old

You hear them before you feel them. The thundering herd of kittens chasing each other up the stairway. If you are lucky, you are not on the landing path of a cat. It is amazing how much like a trampoline you become on some of these jaunts. It is morning, the sky has lightened from full blackness, and the humans need to be awakened to share the day.

It is hard to remember that these cats were small enough to fit on a hand when they came to us in August. They have grown immeasurably since their debut, but still possess the properties of digital cats. When they are in the 1 state, they chase each other endlessly, often ending up in bouts of wrestling that would put the WWE to shame. Yet even though they seem to go after each other in violent battle, the claws are not normally out. Only when you share a morsel from the table do you get real hostility being expressed, mainly from Chessie, the calico. She is the one who is more motivated by food, and is faster to the food bowl when the automated feeder has paid off.

Ah yes, the table. We try to make our kitchen table and counters off-limits, but we seldom are successful. Merry, the tabby cat, seems to regard these spaces as her inalienable property, and though we use a water sprayer in an attempt to extinguish this behavior, it only serves as a deterrent for a second. She will repeat her walk time after time, viewing the spraying as a mere inconvenience. Only when you spray her directly in the face will she get down, and sometimes her table transit is merely interrupted, as she returns almost immediately. I can be at the sink, and feel her jump onto my back, which meant she had to get on the table to take her flying leap. My shoulders are also off-limits while I am standing, but that does not seem to eliminate Merry’s desire to perch in a high spot.

Thank heavens we got them a fantastic cat tree at Christmas time. When they finally power down to a zero state, we can usually find them on the top two perches of this tree. They get to look down on us, which, to a cat, is the way it should be. They should be the most important beings around, with the only exception being seeking a lap for added warmth. The cat tree is also one of the prime spots for battle. If one is on the top perch, and the other decides it should belong to her, the battle takes place at a height that would be dizzying for me. To them, it is only an inconvenience if they cause the cat tree to shake and shimmy. Their sense of balance is so much better than humans, it is like they are from another planet.

My wife used to refer to our sons as the two boy destructo crew. That may have been an exaggeration, but it is no exaggeration to refer to these cats as the two cat destructo crew. We can be up in bed, and hear something fall downstairs, and we will hope that whatever it was, it didn’t break. Sometimes that is not the case, and it is amazing how much fun you can have with a piece of broken glass. It is hard, and makes noise as it scoots across the floor. In fact, you can turn anything into a toy if you wish. That is how you can tell these are still kittens, though they recently underwent the adult cat hysterectomy. We hope they stay kittens for a long time.

Have you ever had a retriever cat? Merry will pick up one of her toys, a fuzzy ball, or a ribbon bow, and deposit it on top of us. We are expected to take it and throw it. Merry then bounds off of us, and grabs it in her mouth, bringing it back to repeat the game. If we are in bed, and the toy happens to be a fuzzy ball, it is even better if it bounces down the stairs, since that is a longer way to run. Chessie will show interest in whatever we throw, but she never brings it back. For Merry though, this is one of her favorite games, and we can repeat the throw and retrieval many times before she tires.

These cats are one of the reasons I have not been active recently on this blog. It is hard to compose when cats are waling all over the keyboard, and chasing the mouse icon across the computer screen. Combine that with the disappearance of an earlier blog post about these kittens, and the general sense of malaise I’ve had recognizing we are running a rerun of the last presidential election, and soon I find it is nearly a month and a half since I’ve written a post. Suffice it to say I still plan to keep on writing posts, since it is now 7 years since I first wrote a post. Every so often, I see that someone has read a post from several years ago, and I am glad.

I just wish that this form of writing was more popular than is currently the case. I am convinced that we are undergoing a devolution in concentration spans. Very few have a desire to read something beyond what you may find on an Instagram post. Concentrating and thinking are becoming lost arts. And if we continue to devolve, human life span will continue to decrease, as it has in the US over the past several years. It is painful to think that it may take evolution to demonstrate that a reliance on science, with its medicines and prescriptions to avoid global calamity, confers a reproductive advantage. That is what appears to be happing in the US. Humanity seems to be engaged in a living trial where we see whether ignorance or comprehension is better for our species. Unfortunately, we are having to live through this period of idiocy where centuries of knowledge is cast away by those who have no belief in vaccines. And that is just one example of the growing influence of the deliberately ignorant.

Conflict Without End?

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So it’s time to wade into the poisoned, choppy waters surrounding Gaza. There are many shoals upon which other writers have foundered, with people on both sides of the issue stating that if you don’t agree with their position 150%, you are evil and sub-human. Almost vermin-like.

My thoughts are these. Three wrongs don’t make a right. The first wrong is the conditions Israel imposed upon the peoples of Gaza for decades. All materials sent into Gaza were viewed as being potentially diverted by Hamas to weaponry, therefore Israel must maintain a full blockade upon Gaza. This continuous isolation has led to generations of Palestinians being drained of hope for useful change.

The second wrong was the horrendous invasion of Israel on October 7. No matter the provocation, the acts of Hamas in slaughtering civilians and forcing captives into their enclave was wrong, morally and tactically. It stands as acts of barbarism without a hope for a peaceful solution.

Then comes the third wrong. Due to the interminable squabbling among Israeli political factions, the Prime Minister has had to tether himself to extreme factions in order to avoid ongoing prosecutions and imprisonment. Gee, wonder what nation that resembles? What it has led to is an intransigent government which is seeking to extend its control over others, includng the people of the West Bank. It is significant that members of the current coalition holding temporary power over the Israeli people now declare their intent to greatly extend settlements in the West Bank. All the time the fundamentalist fringe in Israel keeps growing, leading to a significant portion of the Jewish inhabitants of Israel withdrawing from society, studying only the sacred texts as their sole purpose in life.

There is no doubt that the problems of Gaza and the West Bank are inextricably linked with the existence of Israel. The Palestinians as a people were created by the dispossession of the inhabitants, in order to allow the remaining Jewish populations in Europe to have a place of their own. It was not viewed as a serious obstacle that the land already was possessed by many others. In a way, it was as if the dispossession of the indigenous people of the American west was compressed into a single episode. That act, and in the following conquests by the Israelis, have allowed the situation to fester for 75 years. Both sides in this struggle have had opportunities to withdraw from the conflict. But neither side saw an adequate solution to their distress, and their stubbornness has led to the intractable situation we now face. Israel is right, in that they cannot live next to a people whose representatives call for their complete annihilation. Since the fighters of Hamas have chosen to blend into the civilian population, any attempt to dislodge Hamas has resulted in mass civilian death and the despoiling of any semblance at civilization.

What is the answer to this conflict? I have no answer other than to say it is obvious the path both sides are on is sure to end up in more and more bloodshed. Israel is probably right in its insistence that Hamas is using hospitals and schools to shelter their operations, since Hamas knows any destruction of these facilities will be viewed as war crimes by the rest of the world. It is damn difficult to extract fighters from a city’s population when you cannot tell who is a fighter and who is not. And though it is clear Hamas only had a plurality supporting them when elections were last held, who knows what percentage would support them today. Even though their resistance will ultimately be futile, they were driven to the horrible events of October 7 because of the hopelessness of the Palestinian case. When multiple generations of people live without hope, horrible things can happen. And in the case of Gaza, Hamas, and Israel, they have happened.

The Joy of Kittens

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So we have ended our catless stretch. A couple of weeks ago, we adopted two kittens, each weighing easily less than a pound apiece, but their size belies their ability to get into mischief. Two fuzzballs, one a calico, one a tabby. Named Chessie, for the Chesapeake and Ohio mascot from years past (the calico), and Merry, short for Meriodoc the Hobbit. My first cat out of college was named Pippin, so now I have completed the set of inquisitive hobbits.

Kittens make you see things with fresh eyes. Shoes are evil, and the strings have to be set free and loose. Ceiling fans, too. They go round and round, and must be stared at in wonder. And then there are the occasions when some of their body emissions do not find their way into the litter box. That’s definitely the down side of things.

So many strings! Each one must be played with. And then there are the endless bouts of wrestling between them. Only once have I seen this wrestling become serious, and that is when I shared a slice of deli ham between them. The growls were real in that case. The rest of the time, they are only playing, and we only object when they are wrestling while atop us in bed at 6 AM. See, it is growing light by that time, so everyone should be up and about.

We can hardly wait for the upcoming holiday season. We can only hope that they do not choose our Christmas tree as their own personal mountain to climb. I can hear them right now as they chase each other through the house, the pitter-patter of their little feet skittering along the wood.

The other downside for these cats is they had fleas. We got them from the neighbor of one of our friends, and we feel good for helping these two kittens escaping from their less than desirable surroundings. Apparently the woman of the house refuses to get her animals spayed and neutered, so litters continue to be brought forth in steady procession. The lucky kittens get adopted out, the less lucky get turned out of the house and onto the street once they lose their kitten charms. Since these kittens are so small, a bath in Dawn dish soap and Johnson’s baby shampoo are the only things we can use to get at the fleas. We’ll see if we can keep these cats as indoor cats, because their flea control will be so much easier if we can eliminate them now, and the cats never become exposed to them later in life. It will be a challenge to keep them inside, since they have already taken to camping by the door whenever we go outside. My reflexes will be tested as I remember how to discourage their exploration by forcefully removing them from the vicinity of the door whenever they want to expand their horizons. Since we love our outdoor living room, that will be a challenge for both of us.

 They are at peak charm right now. I had forgotten what it was like to have two cats fall asleep atop of me, the two of them intertwined and exchanging positions slowly over time. When it is difficult to figure out where one cat begins, and the other cat ends, you figure that they are comfortable and happy to be where they are. And, after all, that is all you can hope with new kittens. That they are happy to be with you, and you are their 2nd best plaything (after each other).

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

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.

College – Is Bad? Not In My Life

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I owe my position in life to my college studies. I made it through 5 semesters of calculus, 3 semesters of physics, 7 semesters of chemistry, and eventually an entire buffet of technical courses applying to my major of chemical engineering. I learned about statics and dynamics. I learned about electrical engineering principles. I had fundamental computer skills which were taxed in later years as my profession underwent computerization. With a diploma in hand, I was able to take out my books and learn all about statistics when my job required that knowledge. Would I have learned these skills if I bypassed college and went directly into the workforce? Probably not.

I had a smattering of non-technical courses. Always I had a performing vocal course, as it served as a way for me to keep my sanity and help to balance out the sexual imbalance present in my technical courses – virtually no women in those classes. Even there, in my electives, I chose difficult classes. How many folks would take Music Theory for Non-majors as an easy class? Likewise, how many folks would take Biochemistry for the fun of it? Face it, I had an unusual thirst for knowledge, and college was the place for me to expand my knowledge and provide me the skills I would need for my entire career. Which is one reason why I have difficulty in understanding the bad-mouthing being given to college by so many in today’s world. Yes, I do understand that relatively few have the thirst for knowledge I possess. I also understand that relatively few have the tenacity to put themselves out and finish classes requiring such explicit technical knowledge.

I am not able to make a judgement about whether we are graduating too many lawyers, when we have so many problems where lawyers slow down implementing solutions, instead of facilitating them. I cannot say that “soft” skills are inferior to the hard sciences I was exposed to. I have good reason to understand that “soft” skills have great value in this world. I married a woman who was motivated enough to survive a double major in college (in 2 “soft” skill subjects), and then put herself through 2 master’s programs. I have to refer to her as master, master, in recognition that her creditable skills are greater than my own pile of BS. But somehow, over the nearly 50 years since I completed my field of study, it has been decreed that college is “not worth it’.

How did that happen? In part, because colleges and universities began a competition. They were participants in the huge meritocracy experiment we conducted upon ourselves. Annual surveys were made of the “best’ schools, and much of the inflation of costs for college came about as college administrators fought to keep themselves relevant in this age of competition. These fights even reached down to state schools, where not only were amenities deemed essential, but support from states diminished over the decades. Now you had to determine whether the NROI of a college was worth it. Whereas I was able to attend at a cost of $16 per credit hour, those costs now are in the hundreds of dollars per credit hour at state schools, and literally thousands of dollars per credit hour at the peak of the school meritocracy list.

I know my college had a huge NROI for my expenditures. Yes, I could work a minimum wage job on a very part-time basis, and end up paying for my expenses and leaving enough for pizza and beer. On the college campus, we only had those in fraternities and sororities who were able to lord it over the poor students living in un-air-conditioned dorms. Somehow, I didn’t encounter very many of those folks in my science and engineering classes. The class distinction existing outside of college was perpetuated by these Greek houses.

Now, looking back, it is obvious to me that my choice of majors greatly influenced my earning power. Employers did want those who had technical skills (and if you were literate and could string sentences together coherently, so much the better). I was a beneficiary of the value society placed upon technical skills. What is abundantly clear is that too many of today’s graduates are not valued adequately for the benefits they provide to society. First among the list of the undervalued are teachers. It takes a special set of skills to enable someone to convey their own love of learning to a new generation who actively disdains schooling. And if we want a new generation to continue the path to prosperity we find ourselves on, then it is obvious teaching is a vital skill for society. Yet too many teachers find themselves locked out of living in the districts they teach in due to their own paltry pay. Somehow we must find a solution which enables teachers (and other civic servants) to live in the neighborhoods they serve.

How do we get out of this endless treadmill of escalating costs but insufficient remuneration for jobs unlocked by education? It does require a revisionist approach to the issue of what should college do? First, it must keep the supply of technically-educated people alive and growing. We bask in the fruits of technology (food supply security, incredible technology for communication, medical miracles in imaging and pharmaceuticals), but we do not provide enough recompense for those who study in the fields which make it possible to grow new fruits. Second, we believe in the moral superiority of those who create jobs. Thus it would seem a greater emphasis on economics and entrepreneurism would benefit all of society. But even more, we need a renewed emphasis on those who can maintain the infrastructure we have created for ourselves.

Back when I was growing up, you could find shade tree mechanics who could diagnose and fix problems in cars. Now? It is nigh unto impossible to even begin to understand the highly computerized systems making up today’s cars. I remember needing to stay current on things like oil levels in a car, since you could anticipate problems by just understanding baseline performance. The other day I had to pop the hood on a car we’ve had for seven years. It took forever to figure out how to raise the hood. We just do not need to look there as much as we used to. We’ve been spoiled by the improved reliability from auto manufacturers. But as we have seen, it takes much more technical knowledge to enable someone to understand cars and fix their inevitable problems. There should be a place where these skills are taught, serving the public by improving the human infrastructure. A combination of community college and college/university courses can give someone the knowledge and skills not only to directly fix problems, but to eventually build their own business in auto repair. We do see some of that driven by businesses, trying to generate the knowledgeable employees businesses need. There is a need for people to learn these skills, and it keeps growing as our systems we depend upon grow ever more complex.

Unfortunately, that is not what our college and universities seem to want to provide. At some point, we need to move beyond ivy-covered walls and do a deep dive on how to use college to meet all of our needs as a society, without creating massive debt as a primary product.

Family Time In Baltimore

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We just spent a weekend in Baltimore with our two sons. The event that brought us all together was the Pirates visiting the Orioles over Mother’s Day weekend. So we sprung for tickets and hotel room for the family, and spent time around the Inner Harbor.

Orioles Park at Camden Yards is yet another of these cashless places. Ostensibly, these venues have gone to all card transactions to cut down on germ transmission, an outgrowth of the Covid pandemic. But like many other businesses, I imagine they have gone to cashless in order to cut down on the sometimes hidden costs associated with handling of cash. I still like using cash for small transactions. It galls me to have to use a card for a seemingly minor transaction, although at major league parks, there is no such thing as a de minimis transaction. Unless you were fortunate enough to visit Montreal during the last year the Expos were there, and happened to come in on a Friday where adult tickets were $5 apiece for a slightly sight impaired seat. Since we had both boys with us, they were ticketed at $1 apiece, and to add to the allure, it was dollar dog and beer night. I doubt we will ever get into a major league park for a total of $12 again – and it was Canadian dollars, with each one only about 65 cents US at the time.

We were in different sections of the stadium each game. The first day, we were in the center field bleachers, and had the extreme good fortune to be seated a couple of rows behind some obviously under-age kids who had somehow managed to convince concessionaires to serve them beer. They could not handle their beer, and they became excessively noisy and obscene as the game went on. MF this, and MF that, and their taunts were aimed at anyone sitting around who was dressed in Pirates attire. My wife finally had enough, and stood up and chastised them, prompting a rebuttal about first amendment freedoms from one of the hooligans. She was supported by our neighboring crowd, because she was saying what most of us were thinking. What really caused the kids to face reality was that the beer vendor they abused brought back two security guards, and soon the entire row was removed from their seats. The worst offenders did not return, but eventually all but two of the group came back, and did not bother anyone else for the rest of the game.

The kids missed seeing the completion of a cycle by one of the Orioles (single, double, triple, and home run). For Pirates fans, it was not good since this hitter caused our Friday night loss. But just seeing a cycle was a rare sight – maybe not as rare as an unassisted triple play, or a perfect game, but still a rare feat. That was ok – two days later we saw Mitch Keller go 7 scoreless innings, striking out 13 while not walking anyone. As dominant as I’ve ever seen a pitcher in a game I attended.

We did spend some time in the Inner Harbor. We got to see a local celebrity – Mr. Trash Wheel (see picture above). This contraption was connected to booms which funneled floating trash to the collection zone, where the wheel would turn and toss the floating matter into a container which then was removed. We did not get to see the thing work, but our oldest son who works an environmental job in Henrico County Virginia, was very excited to see this machine that worked to keep the Inner Harbor clean.

The week following our trip was also exciting. My wife encountered her first case of blood clots in her leg, while the same son who was excited about Mr. Trash Wheel went through an appendectomy. Quite a bit of difference between the happiness we had at the ball park, and the trepidation we felt during the next week. It is true what they say – never take anything for granted, since it can all go south on you in an instant. We were just fortunate to avoid more serious consequences in the next week.

Choices People Make

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This post is kind of hard to write. I am making the point that some things are inherently better than others. In doing this, I am claiming my membership in the “elite” class so many people wish to dismiss. Indeed, I am asking to be “owned” as a card-carrying lib.

First, let me address something that I hope is local to Appalachia, though I fear it has spread across much of the country. I think those who participate in, and attend “Toughman” competitions, represent a failed class of humanity. A bit of explanation, in case these events are not universal. These are competitions where untrained amateurs put on boxing gloves, and go and whale away on opponents who are likely as unskilled as they are. In between rounds, examples of Daisy Mae femininity parade around the ring, holding up the round numbers. In one fell swoop, this commercial enterprise manages to denigrate both the men and women of Appalachia, as only being capable of serving as cannon fodder or as sex symbols. Since these events have survived for decades in this market, I believe they serve to confirm the stereotypes hung on the residents of this region.

I believe classical music and jazz represents a higher capability when compared to rap, hip-hop, and country music. It is harder to make the notes on the scores come to life when you compare classical to these other forms, and as such, I believe it is better to have one’s music come from the classical repertoire. For jazz, the writing is minimal. You must internally improvise the chords and harmonies. Certainly you can write a memorable song only using 3 chords. But that does not mean you are a musician.

I believe most television is aimed at the lowest common denominator. Certainly the plethora of reality television shows represent some of the worst of humanity. Anything that allows mankind to exist vicariously and enable people to feel either envy at the lifestyles of celebrities, or wishing they had the physical abilities on certain reality shows, those shows further the misallocation of mental resources made possible by visual media. The popularity of TikTok videos, in five second increments, shows how the diminishing of the attention span is progressing quite well.

Even in our choice of weaponry, we seem to want to reduce our functioning capability while increasing our dependence on technology. Whereas shooting sports used to require skill, and superb hand-eye coordination, now we just get a semi-automatic weapon, point, and shoot aimlessly. Perhaps we are fortunate in that simply spraying bullets is normally less lethal than someone who is trained on their weapon. Let me just say that I do not measure my worth by the number of weapons I keep around the house. Those who seem to live in a permanent state of paranoia of the “government” coming to take their weapons are inferior to those who want to live in peace among their neighbors.

Let’s see, whose oxen can I gore now? We could talk about all of those who feel a perfect monoculture of grass is the highest form of landscaping possible. The ones who keep the landscape companies in business applying endless quantities of fertilizer, herbicide, and insecticide all aimed at turning suburbia into a boring sea of grass. They are the ones who on a small scale are responsible for the loss of pollinators and birds we see around us. They will never have the joy of watching naturalized crocus bloom in their lawn as a harbinger of spring every year.

To all who not only are incapable of understanding scientific principles, but actively work at diminishing them and proselytizing against them, you have my scorn. It is amazing in this day we are still seeing state legislatures devoting time and effort towards implementing intelligent design (ID), but that is the current condition in West Virginia, where the ID camel has stuck its nose in the legislative tent. Of course, research has found a higher death rate in the counties where science denialism is more widespread as compared to those counties repudiating those anti-intellectual beliefs. Only a few more generations and mankind may evolve towards a belief in science. Too bad we have to deal with the idiots in charge in the interim.

I believe the underlying cause for all of the issues I’ve identified is money. People go where the money is. And unfortunately, people are willing to spend money on those things which tend to feel good, but don’t last when looked at from afar. If people didn’t buy rap or hip-hop, we would not find it infesting our culture. If there wasn’t peer pressure to maintain a “perfect” lawn, lawn chemical companies would find more useful ways to serve society. If people stopped contributing money to those hypocritical politicians who give voice to populism, but really just want tax breaks for wealthy people, then we might get a political class that wants to solve real-world problems. I am not holding my breath waiting for sanity to sweep over this land.

Some of these distinctions are real, and cause much of the division between people we find in society today. Some seem like minor irritants (like reality TV – no one is making you watch that). But there is a deeper meaning to be found in people’s preferences. In most cases, people go for the easy solution. That is a primary reason why people find it difficult to postpone gratification and save for the future. If you are lucky, you will win the lottery and never have to worry about the future.