I was in a
laundromat.
Yes, it was a laundromat. I was there. It was Thanksgiving. It must have been 1983.
I can't see how that would matter. The year I mean. I sometimes can't see how any of this matters. Then, now or ever. But it runs thru my head. I can never tell if it wants to be said or if I just want to say it.
I can never tell.
It was Thanksgiving. I said that.
I was
invited to dinner. I needed clean clothing. I was in a laundromat.
I said that.
This is a story that needs carefully told. There are things I wanna know but there are things I don't really want to hear.. Some of those things are the same and I have to be careful. It's kinda foolish. It's my story. I must surely know what's in it. Let's see if I do.
I was supposed to meet a girl.
I met a girl.
She came in while I was washing my clothes and reading. Always reading.
She was badly dressed and carrying a large shoulder bag. She had badly arranged hair and the facial ricktus of the totally self-involved, perhaps tormented by inner demons. She could have been attractive on a better day if she were in better circumstances. She seemed homeless. She moved thru the place checking all the coin returns and looking in the washers and dryers for the forgotten quarter or crumpled dollar that might be found. She was gone in less than the time it took me to make my assessment of her and her circumstances.
Called away from my reading and my reveries it took me a moment to realize I had about $200 on me and for a mere tenth of my wealth I could make all the difference in her day.
Her Thanksgiving Day.
I went to the door and surveyed the parking lot of the little shopping strip but she was gone. I never saw her before and I've never seen her since. It's 34 years. There's no reason to think about it but I do. A moment lost. I've even had the thought that thinking I might have done something of value is no more than conceit. I berate myself for the larger things I haven't done in those 34 years and belittle myself for thinking, instead, of some chance thing I might have done.
I might have done.
I was supposed to meet a girl. I said that.
I was invited to Thanksgiving Dinner to specifically meet a girl. Her friends, our co-workers, thought we would make a couple. I was aware as was she that we would be there so as to make friends, perhaps even leave together and in the future come back together. Maybe to dinner.
She carried herself well and was a pleasure to see unexpectedly. She had long, blond hair and a nice almost constant smile. She was beautiful. Sometimes after we had met over work or such I was left thinking of something I wished I'd said. It was a nice feeling I still enjoy remembering.
I didn't go to that dinner. I didn't meet that girl.
I decided I couldn't face the idea of eventually becoming a disappointment.
Not a new experience.
I was in a laundromat.
It was Thanksgiving.
Sunday, October 29, 2017
Friday, October 20, 2017
Learning and Education
Obviously, learning and education are two different things. Any successful education fosters learning. It's surprising the number of people who just don't know that. It's surprising the number of educators who seem to have missed that. One glaring, recent example is the movement to discontinue teaching cursive. The idea is almost crippling and therefore is amazingly misguided.
Education fosters the ability to gather, properly handle, integrate and understand integrated information. That's it. No nutshell. That's it. OK, we're done here.
Well, maybe just a little more. I've read some articles on education by well meaning people. I've never met them. I can only assume they're well meaning. I can also assume they aren't very bright. Maybe they're more convincing in person. Anyway, these people seem to believe a few things I think are just wrong. One is the laughable assumption you can somehow further education by teaching less of the basics. That's as untrue in detail as it sounds on its face. Take teaching cursive. Cursive!, We don't need no stinking cursive.
Cursive teaches two basic things. It teaches fine motor skills which sure do come in handy. More importantly, it's a secondary method of handling data. It converts the symbols of block printing to the symbols of the script alphabet. This type of tactile transfer of information is a reinforcement along the lines of the Montessori Method. In case you don't know, kids taught with the Montessori Method never have dyslexia. Never. That means dyslexia isn't a learning disability, it's a teaching disability. It seems to me anyone involved with early-childhood education should know that.
Hey, that was an easy sell. I'm gonna wish I had some complimentary steak knives to pass out for this next item. Let's all learn Latin. It's really too late for us but for god-sake man, save the children!
There are a couple things about Latin that strike me as important. The words themselves make up about a third of our language. That's kind of important. In addition, Latin grammar constitutes the underpinning rules of our language. We think in symbols and the symbology we use is language. Therefore, understanding our language from basic underpinnings to finished product forms a logical chain that is just invaluable. Honest! I wouldn't lie. Try them steak knives. They're great. I'll also point out that a century ago we taught Latin and Greek in grade school and now we teach remedial English in college. That sounds like a problem.
Here's something else that I find absolutely laughable. These people seem overwhelmed by the flood of information the digital age has made available. Somehow they seem to have gotten the idea there is more information and the medium of delivery has somehow changed the information itself. That's just not true. Marshal McLuhan aside, the conclusions they have reached based on those erroneous assumptions are wrong.
So, in conclusion, all I can really say about early childhood education is, Neener, neener.
Education fosters the ability to gather, properly handle, integrate and understand integrated information. That's it. No nutshell. That's it. OK, we're done here.
Well, maybe just a little more. I've read some articles on education by well meaning people. I've never met them. I can only assume they're well meaning. I can also assume they aren't very bright. Maybe they're more convincing in person. Anyway, these people seem to believe a few things I think are just wrong. One is the laughable assumption you can somehow further education by teaching less of the basics. That's as untrue in detail as it sounds on its face. Take teaching cursive. Cursive!, We don't need no stinking cursive.
Cursive teaches two basic things. It teaches fine motor skills which sure do come in handy. More importantly, it's a secondary method of handling data. It converts the symbols of block printing to the symbols of the script alphabet. This type of tactile transfer of information is a reinforcement along the lines of the Montessori Method. In case you don't know, kids taught with the Montessori Method never have dyslexia. Never. That means dyslexia isn't a learning disability, it's a teaching disability. It seems to me anyone involved with early-childhood education should know that.
Hey, that was an easy sell. I'm gonna wish I had some complimentary steak knives to pass out for this next item. Let's all learn Latin. It's really too late for us but for god-sake man, save the children!
There are a couple things about Latin that strike me as important. The words themselves make up about a third of our language. That's kind of important. In addition, Latin grammar constitutes the underpinning rules of our language. We think in symbols and the symbology we use is language. Therefore, understanding our language from basic underpinnings to finished product forms a logical chain that is just invaluable. Honest! I wouldn't lie. Try them steak knives. They're great. I'll also point out that a century ago we taught Latin and Greek in grade school and now we teach remedial English in college. That sounds like a problem.
Here's something else that I find absolutely laughable. These people seem overwhelmed by the flood of information the digital age has made available. Somehow they seem to have gotten the idea there is more information and the medium of delivery has somehow changed the information itself. That's just not true. Marshal McLuhan aside, the conclusions they have reached based on those erroneous assumptions are wrong.
So, in conclusion, all I can really say about early childhood education is, Neener, neener.
Wednesday, October 18, 2017
Momma, Why's It Called Obamacare ?
That's a great question and the answer is pretty funny.
Politicians really love catch phrases. The republicans seem to love wearing their hearts on their sleeves. May Day became Law Day as an answer to communism. Obviously, an international workers holiday couldn't be tolerated. Damned Commies. Then we had the Patriot Missile. Pfft, what?? Operation Iraqi Freedom. That's a bad joke. Enduring Freedom, actually a dumber joke and so on. I guess one name is as good as another. But Overlord seems better than "Let's Go Kill All the Nazis". The Manhattan Project, though it had nothing to do with Times Square, is certainly better than "Let's Make 'em Glow In The Dark". I digress.
So, the President who is very popular, does the heavy lifting and comes up with a plan for one of people's primary concerns and expenses. The republicans oppose it at every step of the process but they can't stop it though they sure did try.
Now let's hold on here a minute. The duty of the opposition is to oppose and nothing I say should be construed to mean I object to that fact. I do kind of object to just how completely incompetent they were about it but what are ya gonna do? They were what they were. No one ever referred to a collection of republicans as the Best and the Brightest. They might want to look into that.
Actually, that phrase, "The Best and the Brightest" typified the problem they faced. Take that phrase together with the "New Deal", "Social Security", "Camelot", "Medicare" ( which they fought tooth and nail with a lot of the same arguments we're hearing today), "The War on Poverty", "The Great Society". What did they really have? " A Chicken in Every Pot", "That Man in Washington", "Mr Roosevelt's War", "The Little Man On Top of the Wedding Cake", "The Silent Majority", "Peace With Honor", "Voodoo Economics", "Trickle Down", "Weapons of Mass Destruction."
They were stuck. They could see the advent of a government program that would be a popular fixture of our society and a true legacy maker yet again, so they decided to denigrate it. To their constituents Obama was a really unpopular guy and they really hated him. Don't get me wrong. They didn't hate Obama for his race. They hated him for the same reason they hated Clinton. He'd pushed their snouts from the public trough. That didn't mean they were above exploiting the inherent racism of the constituency they had so carefully cultivated. They were just more interested in the spoils of office. They just forgot about the minority their constituency actually was.
They decided on a catch phrase that would appeal to their constituency in a negative way: Obama Care. Yeah, that didn't work. The people, the media, the society decided: OK, wanna call it that? Fine, we like it. Now it hangs around their neck almost exactly like the albatross in "The Rhyme of the Ancient Mariner". and pretty much for the same reasons.
Nothing special about it. It just ranks with other miscalculations of minorities but it is pretty funny. Wait until they get a load of what "MAGA" does for them.
Politicians really love catch phrases. The republicans seem to love wearing their hearts on their sleeves. May Day became Law Day as an answer to communism. Obviously, an international workers holiday couldn't be tolerated. Damned Commies. Then we had the Patriot Missile. Pfft, what?? Operation Iraqi Freedom. That's a bad joke. Enduring Freedom, actually a dumber joke and so on. I guess one name is as good as another. But Overlord seems better than "Let's Go Kill All the Nazis". The Manhattan Project, though it had nothing to do with Times Square, is certainly better than "Let's Make 'em Glow In The Dark". I digress.
So, the President who is very popular, does the heavy lifting and comes up with a plan for one of people's primary concerns and expenses. The republicans oppose it at every step of the process but they can't stop it though they sure did try.
Now let's hold on here a minute. The duty of the opposition is to oppose and nothing I say should be construed to mean I object to that fact. I do kind of object to just how completely incompetent they were about it but what are ya gonna do? They were what they were. No one ever referred to a collection of republicans as the Best and the Brightest. They might want to look into that.
Actually, that phrase, "The Best and the Brightest" typified the problem they faced. Take that phrase together with the "New Deal", "Social Security", "Camelot", "Medicare" ( which they fought tooth and nail with a lot of the same arguments we're hearing today), "The War on Poverty", "The Great Society". What did they really have? " A Chicken in Every Pot", "That Man in Washington", "Mr Roosevelt's War", "The Little Man On Top of the Wedding Cake", "The Silent Majority", "Peace With Honor", "Voodoo Economics", "Trickle Down", "Weapons of Mass Destruction."
They were stuck. They could see the advent of a government program that would be a popular fixture of our society and a true legacy maker yet again, so they decided to denigrate it. To their constituents Obama was a really unpopular guy and they really hated him. Don't get me wrong. They didn't hate Obama for his race. They hated him for the same reason they hated Clinton. He'd pushed their snouts from the public trough. That didn't mean they were above exploiting the inherent racism of the constituency they had so carefully cultivated. They were just more interested in the spoils of office. They just forgot about the minority their constituency actually was.
They decided on a catch phrase that would appeal to their constituency in a negative way: Obama Care. Yeah, that didn't work. The people, the media, the society decided: OK, wanna call it that? Fine, we like it. Now it hangs around their neck almost exactly like the albatross in "The Rhyme of the Ancient Mariner". and pretty much for the same reasons.
Nothing special about it. It just ranks with other miscalculations of minorities but it is pretty funny. Wait until they get a load of what "MAGA" does for them.
Saturday, October 14, 2017
So, How Bad Is It ?
It sure is gonna take some fixing but really, how bad is it? The only measure we have is the recent past. I know to the so-called Millennials 2001 seems like a lifetime ago because to them it has been a lifetime but in reality it's a very pertinent part of living memory. There's a lot of similarities. We had a prominent figure of a very popular previous administration denied elected office by what could be described as underhanded tactics. The economy was moving forward at a steady but slow pace. We were being told that pace was a dire circumstance so tax cuts for the well off would seem palatable, The poor were leeches and the military needed more financial commitment. Remarkably similar.
What mattered was what happened in the ensuing few years. We abandoned any semblance of fiscal responsibility or restraint. We were attacked. We started out attacking the right country only to almost laughably bungle that. We followed up by irrationally attacking the wrong country. We killed nearly a million totally innocent people and destabilized the Middle East for at least two generations. We normalized and employed torture as a national policy and to this day there are elements in our society that think people objecting to that totally unacceptable idea are somehow suspect. There are people who believe noticing obvious evil is somehow unmanly or unpatriotic. In the meantime the executive branch had been rendered totally ineffective in responding to emerging natural calamities.
That was all topped off ten years ago by a financial collapse that exposed every so called "conservative" financial idea and policy to be just so much nonsense. The recovery has featured standard liberal economic ideas proposed and implemented by both parties. There is no debate it worked. There is, as always, debate as to whether it has worked fast enough.
Where are we now? So far we haven't killed anybody but Trump sure is threatening a bunch of people. He sure would torture people but we have a remarkable shortage of potential victims. He's attempting to abandon fiscal responsibility but that'll be fixed directly. ( See Alexandra Ocasio-Cortez) The deficit has skyrocketed. The poor are still leeches and the military has gotten even more than it's dreams of avarice. Doing mischief to health care is dead in the Congress and the rest will be in the courts for years. Certainly long enough for cooler heads to prevail. The executive branch is back to being incapable of realistically responding to natural disasters.
Internationally our reputation is back in the toilet. People just don't like this guy much. You could say it's good they seem to be working things out on their own. Obama wanted to curb our influence by toning down and stepping back. Trump is eroding our influence merely by pissing just about everyone off. In the end not much of a difference in result and you do have to admit it's kinda funny watching Trump get the cold shoulder from the Queen. The Brits know a parvenu when they see one.
Economically, things seem Ok but it does kinda have a 2006 feel to it. The emphasis on deregulation has stayed away from the financial; markets, so that's a good thing.
It is true that formerly undesirable elements of our society have been emboldened and to some extent normalized. However, the major impact seems to have been the mobilization of the Angels of Our Better Nature. That's a good thing.
So, the guy is unpleasant and every bit as unfit as advertised.
All in all I'd say, just wait it out and enjoy the show but don't be silent. These are necessary national debates we should have had long ago. It's time to assert our educations and our upbringing. It certainly is time for the Angels of Our Better Nature to get some necessary exercise. A lot of people are worried there has been a coarsening of society. People who a few years ago would have remained silent feel free to repeat what they think they've heard from the President. The dog whistle effect is very powerful.
Frankly, a large part of this has no real impact if you're a white guy other than just being offended and maybe worried for the future but what if you aren't white? What if you're a member of one of the myriad of minorities being targeted by the dog whistle? You would have to rightfully feel your life and membership in society hadn't been just lessened but that you had been assaulted in a uniquely personal way. That's quite simply an outrage.
So, to date the guy sure is offensive but nowhere near as destructive as Bush. That sure doesn't seem like much but it is something.
What mattered was what happened in the ensuing few years. We abandoned any semblance of fiscal responsibility or restraint. We were attacked. We started out attacking the right country only to almost laughably bungle that. We followed up by irrationally attacking the wrong country. We killed nearly a million totally innocent people and destabilized the Middle East for at least two generations. We normalized and employed torture as a national policy and to this day there are elements in our society that think people objecting to that totally unacceptable idea are somehow suspect. There are people who believe noticing obvious evil is somehow unmanly or unpatriotic. In the meantime the executive branch had been rendered totally ineffective in responding to emerging natural calamities.
That was all topped off ten years ago by a financial collapse that exposed every so called "conservative" financial idea and policy to be just so much nonsense. The recovery has featured standard liberal economic ideas proposed and implemented by both parties. There is no debate it worked. There is, as always, debate as to whether it has worked fast enough.
Where are we now? So far we haven't killed anybody but Trump sure is threatening a bunch of people. He sure would torture people but we have a remarkable shortage of potential victims. He's attempting to abandon fiscal responsibility but that'll be fixed directly. ( See Alexandra Ocasio-Cortez) The deficit has skyrocketed. The poor are still leeches and the military has gotten even more than it's dreams of avarice. Doing mischief to health care is dead in the Congress and the rest will be in the courts for years. Certainly long enough for cooler heads to prevail. The executive branch is back to being incapable of realistically responding to natural disasters.
Internationally our reputation is back in the toilet. People just don't like this guy much. You could say it's good they seem to be working things out on their own. Obama wanted to curb our influence by toning down and stepping back. Trump is eroding our influence merely by pissing just about everyone off. In the end not much of a difference in result and you do have to admit it's kinda funny watching Trump get the cold shoulder from the Queen. The Brits know a parvenu when they see one.
Economically, things seem Ok but it does kinda have a 2006 feel to it. The emphasis on deregulation has stayed away from the financial; markets, so that's a good thing.
It is true that formerly undesirable elements of our society have been emboldened and to some extent normalized. However, the major impact seems to have been the mobilization of the Angels of Our Better Nature. That's a good thing.
So, the guy is unpleasant and every bit as unfit as advertised.
All in all I'd say, just wait it out and enjoy the show but don't be silent. These are necessary national debates we should have had long ago. It's time to assert our educations and our upbringing. It certainly is time for the Angels of Our Better Nature to get some necessary exercise. A lot of people are worried there has been a coarsening of society. People who a few years ago would have remained silent feel free to repeat what they think they've heard from the President. The dog whistle effect is very powerful.
Frankly, a large part of this has no real impact if you're a white guy other than just being offended and maybe worried for the future but what if you aren't white? What if you're a member of one of the myriad of minorities being targeted by the dog whistle? You would have to rightfully feel your life and membership in society hadn't been just lessened but that you had been assaulted in a uniquely personal way. That's quite simply an outrage.
So, to date the guy sure is offensive but nowhere near as destructive as Bush. That sure doesn't seem like much but it is something.
Sunday, October 8, 2017
Yeah, Got That Wrong.
I was thinking about things I got wrong as a kid and things the grown ups got wrong. I think we should be more attentive to what young kids are actually thinking. I know I was a lot more thoughtful than people gave me credit for and I resented it and I've often been surprised how thoughtful young people really are. I think we should know it's a little deeper than, "Kids Say The Darnedest Things". They are listening and they sure are thinking.
For example: When I was 4-5 my hero was Superman. I remember my Uncle George who, I'm sure had the best of intentions, telling me Superman wasn't real. I argued back that he could be real. I was pissed. Thank God we weren't discussing Santa and don't be telling me what you might have heard about Santa . Not ready for that.
Anyway, Superman was coming to Pittsburgh! Daily, they promoted on the radio, "Meet Superman." My parents were excited! They were so happy that I would have the chance to meet my hero! I think that incident is why I still have a twinge of social anxiety. I thought I was gonna have to shake hands with the guy. "Well, hi Jim, how have you been?" "Not bad sir. How have your been?" Maybe sit down and have some Bosco. I was terrified but the powers that be seemed so pleased with themselves all I could say was, " Yeah, great."
I went to Kennywood Park like I was being led to a gallows. I was so relieved when it worked out I was so far back in the crowd I could barely see the guy even on my Dad's shoulders. It coulda been my Uncle George. What a relief!
That was a little bit after I'd learned my bedtime prayers. 'Now I lay me down to sleep. I pray the Lord my soul to keep. If I should die before I wake. WAIT ! WHAT??
We had chickens. We sold the eggs. It's actually kinda interesting to weigh, classify and candle the eggs. At times it was my job to gather the eggs. It turns out hens don't like you screwin around with their offspring much. They would peck hell outta ya. I hated them fucking chickens.
Eventually, the price of eggs went down and the hens got old. The decision was made to kill all the chickens and get out of the egg business. As a side effect, we did have chicken for about a year. A little ham now and then would have been nice.
Killing and dressing chickens is kind of a gruesome business. Killing and dressing 45-50 of them is really a gruesome business. I became aware my grandparents were concerned it might be a bit much for my 6 year old sensibilities. Did I mention I hated them fuckin chickens? My fist pumps as they were beheaded should have given my true feelings away. I was unscathed. Hell, I'da done it myself.
Shortly after that it was time to butcher a cow which had been raised with the intent to take up whatever room was left in the freezer not already occupied by the chickens. I was definitely excluded from that gruesome exercise. It really is a process not for the squeamish. So, naturally, being excluded, I found a knothole in the wall of the shed being used as a slaughterhouse in order to watch.
The crew consisted of my Grandfather, my uncle George and my uncle Bill. George and Bill must have been in their early 20's. The cow was about a year and a half old not that it matters.
The cow was led into the shed by a rope halter. It was positioned in the middle of the shed and belted in the head, straight between the eyes, with a sledge hammer by my uncle George. The cow went down. My uncle Bill climbed on the cow's back and began to cut it's throat with a large Bowie knife, the idea being to bleed the cow to death. This woke the cow up. With a bellow it got to it's feet and began to thrash about with my uncle on it's back now just stabbing it with great blows. It was like bull riding except you get to stab the bull. Meantime, my uncle George is trying to whack the cow again with the sledge without cold cocking my uncle Bill. To this day it's still one of the funniest things I've ever seen. Describing it just doesn't do it justice. In a few seconds the cow collapsed to the great relief of us all. My presence was discovered and attempts to protect my sensibilities came to an end. Especially since I insisted on telling the story with belly laughs pretty much to anyone who would listen. They got it that I understood farm life.
There's a few things I learned. We butchered a pig. In that process, you dip the dead pig in scalding water. To accomplish this we built a fire under an old, oaken barrel. I assumed the fire would set the barrel on fire but because the barrel was full of water it doesn't. You can do the same thing on a smaller scale with a paper bag of water. Other than that tidbit the pig was uneventful. They shot the pig. It reduced the excitement and the entertainment value.
About this time I learned something from my Grandfather that I didn't realize I'd learned for fifty years. He said to me, " I bet you can't eat an entire apple in 8 bites." It's something I try to do to this day. It's something I've said to all of my children and other, random children. It wasn't until the children were long grown that I realized what he was up to. He had 8 children. He must have got tired of seeing half-eaten apples so it was a little trick to get them to eat the whole thing. The little light bulb didn't come on until I was in my 50's but the lesson was passed on to yet another generation. That's pretty cool.
So I learned some things and they learned some things not to worry about.
We had a dog. It was a farm, we had plenty of dogs. We had a dog. The dog was a puppy when I was a baby. Jerry. As I got older the dog got older. He was a great dog. Part lab and part golden retriever. When I was 17 it was obvious Jerry was very bad off. I would come home every couple weeks and it was obvious neither my uncles or grandfather had the heart to do anything about it. One day I came out to the farm, grabbed a shovel and dug a hole at the bottom of the hill. I got the .22 out of the closet and a box of shells. C'mon Jerry let's get some birds. He pulled himself to his unsteady legs and followed me out the door by smell I suppose. He was mostly blind.
I gotta tell ya. I thought the sound of a single shot in that remote hollow would be just too mournful. I broke up the process of filling in the hole by firing a few random shots into the air. After a while I walked back to the house. Put the rifle and the shells back in the closet and sat down in the living room with my Grandmother and wordlessly, though we knew, watched TV.
For example: When I was 4-5 my hero was Superman. I remember my Uncle George who, I'm sure had the best of intentions, telling me Superman wasn't real. I argued back that he could be real. I was pissed. Thank God we weren't discussing Santa and don't be telling me what you might have heard about Santa . Not ready for that.
Anyway, Superman was coming to Pittsburgh! Daily, they promoted on the radio, "Meet Superman." My parents were excited! They were so happy that I would have the chance to meet my hero! I think that incident is why I still have a twinge of social anxiety. I thought I was gonna have to shake hands with the guy. "Well, hi Jim, how have you been?" "Not bad sir. How have your been?" Maybe sit down and have some Bosco. I was terrified but the powers that be seemed so pleased with themselves all I could say was, " Yeah, great."
I went to Kennywood Park like I was being led to a gallows. I was so relieved when it worked out I was so far back in the crowd I could barely see the guy even on my Dad's shoulders. It coulda been my Uncle George. What a relief!
That was a little bit after I'd learned my bedtime prayers. 'Now I lay me down to sleep. I pray the Lord my soul to keep. If I should die before I wake. WAIT ! WHAT??
We had chickens. We sold the eggs. It's actually kinda interesting to weigh, classify and candle the eggs. At times it was my job to gather the eggs. It turns out hens don't like you screwin around with their offspring much. They would peck hell outta ya. I hated them fucking chickens.
Eventually, the price of eggs went down and the hens got old. The decision was made to kill all the chickens and get out of the egg business. As a side effect, we did have chicken for about a year. A little ham now and then would have been nice.
Killing and dressing chickens is kind of a gruesome business. Killing and dressing 45-50 of them is really a gruesome business. I became aware my grandparents were concerned it might be a bit much for my 6 year old sensibilities. Did I mention I hated them fuckin chickens? My fist pumps as they were beheaded should have given my true feelings away. I was unscathed. Hell, I'da done it myself.
Shortly after that it was time to butcher a cow which had been raised with the intent to take up whatever room was left in the freezer not already occupied by the chickens. I was definitely excluded from that gruesome exercise. It really is a process not for the squeamish. So, naturally, being excluded, I found a knothole in the wall of the shed being used as a slaughterhouse in order to watch.
The crew consisted of my Grandfather, my uncle George and my uncle Bill. George and Bill must have been in their early 20's. The cow was about a year and a half old not that it matters.
The cow was led into the shed by a rope halter. It was positioned in the middle of the shed and belted in the head, straight between the eyes, with a sledge hammer by my uncle George. The cow went down. My uncle Bill climbed on the cow's back and began to cut it's throat with a large Bowie knife, the idea being to bleed the cow to death. This woke the cow up. With a bellow it got to it's feet and began to thrash about with my uncle on it's back now just stabbing it with great blows. It was like bull riding except you get to stab the bull. Meantime, my uncle George is trying to whack the cow again with the sledge without cold cocking my uncle Bill. To this day it's still one of the funniest things I've ever seen. Describing it just doesn't do it justice. In a few seconds the cow collapsed to the great relief of us all. My presence was discovered and attempts to protect my sensibilities came to an end. Especially since I insisted on telling the story with belly laughs pretty much to anyone who would listen. They got it that I understood farm life.
There's a few things I learned. We butchered a pig. In that process, you dip the dead pig in scalding water. To accomplish this we built a fire under an old, oaken barrel. I assumed the fire would set the barrel on fire but because the barrel was full of water it doesn't. You can do the same thing on a smaller scale with a paper bag of water. Other than that tidbit the pig was uneventful. They shot the pig. It reduced the excitement and the entertainment value.
About this time I learned something from my Grandfather that I didn't realize I'd learned for fifty years. He said to me, " I bet you can't eat an entire apple in 8 bites." It's something I try to do to this day. It's something I've said to all of my children and other, random children. It wasn't until the children were long grown that I realized what he was up to. He had 8 children. He must have got tired of seeing half-eaten apples so it was a little trick to get them to eat the whole thing. The little light bulb didn't come on until I was in my 50's but the lesson was passed on to yet another generation. That's pretty cool.
So I learned some things and they learned some things not to worry about.
We had a dog. It was a farm, we had plenty of dogs. We had a dog. The dog was a puppy when I was a baby. Jerry. As I got older the dog got older. He was a great dog. Part lab and part golden retriever. When I was 17 it was obvious Jerry was very bad off. I would come home every couple weeks and it was obvious neither my uncles or grandfather had the heart to do anything about it. One day I came out to the farm, grabbed a shovel and dug a hole at the bottom of the hill. I got the .22 out of the closet and a box of shells. C'mon Jerry let's get some birds. He pulled himself to his unsteady legs and followed me out the door by smell I suppose. He was mostly blind.
I gotta tell ya. I thought the sound of a single shot in that remote hollow would be just too mournful. I broke up the process of filling in the hole by firing a few random shots into the air. After a while I walked back to the house. Put the rifle and the shells back in the closet and sat down in the living room with my Grandmother and wordlessly, though we knew, watched TV.
Isn't that an almost tender little vignette? Of course it wasn't till years later I learned my Grandmother's silence was because she was utterly horrified that her monster of a grandson had shot the poor, old family dog five times.
See? Ya just never know.
Monday, October 2, 2017
What We Should Know
There are things about the Las Vegas shootings that just seem off-kilter to me, although I can't imagine what about this could be remotely normal or understandable.
One thing I heard today bears repeating often until it sinks in: It is not too soon to seek solutions to gun violence. It is too late. But that doesn't mean there are not things we can know and should know if for no other reason than to tamp down speculation which is already becoming rampant.
What is the timeline of these events from the first shots to the discovery of Stephen Craig Paddock's body? I do think it's telling that he has acquired the notoriety of being known with his middle name.
How many shots were fired from how many different weapons? Is there a way to determine in what order the weapons were used?
How long had the guy been dead when the Vegas cops got to him? Did the cops hear the shot that killed him? Was a gunshot from one of his weapons his manner of death? If so, which weapon?
How many and what type of weapons did he have and how much ammunition for each? Where did these weapons come from?
How was it that his live-in companion didn't know he had these weapons? How did he manage to get such an arsenal into the hotel?
It has been said he broke out windows on the 32nd floor. How soon did building security know these windows had been broken? In a building of that type there surely has to be a program that reports such an occurrence. How long did it take them to respond?
I mention these things because this is going to be discussed and speculated upon for some time. I think timely answers to these questions will keep unwarranted speculation to a minimum.
If the wave of comments on social media are any indication this has a potential of becoming a cottage industry of sorts. The multiple tie ins to current political debate is too tempting. We already have, race, gun issues, emerging issues of wealth. This could get really ugly and timely answers to basic questions are very important. I can't imagine these aren't questions that would occur to any good journalist but so far, and it is awfully early, there aren't many answers.
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