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Guiding: Your Money For Your Christ

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Revenge of the Money Changers

Mt. Vernon

Rain, rain, go away!  So much for fine June days here in the nation’s capital.  We had a couple of storms this week that were absolute snorkers.  Doesn’t the god of weather know this is DC?  We don’t  actually do disasters, we fund them.

But the week ended on a euphoric note with a spectacular Friday: blue sky with scudding white clouds, a brisk wind and the birds a warbling.

I was touring with a group of pleasant and smart eighth-graders on a day that started at Washington’s Mount Vernon and ended at the Washington Cathedral.  The Mansion House was at its best framed by the sky above and the bowling green below.  You can understand why His Excellency always pined for home.

We left Mt. Vernon en route to our cathedral experience aptly enough on a motor coach where the word “angel” figured prominently in the title of the company.  This apparent coincidence became prescient as our bus driver texted away on a smartphone coming northbound on the George Washington Parkway in the left lane of a four lane highway with no middle barrier.  I’d like to see angels one day but Friday did seem a bit soon to me.

Washington National Cathedral

 

 

God was on our side, though, as we arrived safely at DC’s church-of-note and debarked for our tour after parking in a half-empty bus garage.  On the plaza level we were met by a sneaker-wearing sort of walmart/cathedral greeter who implored us to spit out our gum one moment while informing us he was a “foremost authority” on the cathedral in the next one.  I heard nothing from him that proved his assertion though perhaps I am just jealous as I am an authority of the hindmost sort.

 

 

 

The Rose Window

 

 

Groups like mine, arriving by bus, make a $175 “donation” to see the cathedral and you MUST have a reservation.  I wonder if you can get a reservation if you don’t make the “donation”?  (One can park and worship for a mere $50.)  The 300-foot tall tower exterior is festooned in dark scaffolding and the interior is draped with dark netting perhaps to remind us (again) that the cathedral was damaged by the 2011 earthquake.  (And money is required to fix it.)  This reminds me of the “Curb Your Enthusiasm” episode where Larry David’s mother passes away and he suddenly realizes it is a great excuse for all sorts of things.  I believe the cynical expression is “working it.”

 

 

The docent-led tour progressed through the stunning main level of the church.  This time of year the docents do the nave level and hand the group back to guides who are expected to take them on a tour of the crypt level.  The crypt is found by descending a set of worn steps which pass by a statue of a pious and kneeling Abe Lincoln and which ends at the ubiquitous (and cavernous) gift shop.  (One can now skip the steps as a gift shop has been installed on the nave level thus allowing the hard core shopper to slip away from the communion rail for a wee peek at this week’s specials.)

St. Joseph’s Chapel

 

The crypt level of the cathedral has several beautiful chapels (Bethlehem and St. Joseph’s).  On arrival there I was met by a docent.  I explained that I had a group and would be showing them these two areas.   She quickly informed me I would be doing no such thing.  This time of year, she announced, “It’s one or the other.”  The irony was priceless, (perhaps the only thing so at the Cathedral).  As Bethlehem chapel depicts the birth of Christ and St. Joseph’s his death, I was being forced to choose between the two, a sort of Judas with a guide badge.

 

I chose death.  Let’s be honest, that’s where the drama is and besides, the art is better in that chapel and as if that alone were not enough, it is where the great Helen Keller is interred.  It wasn’t even a close call.

Still, for $175 you would think the kids could view both the birth and death of Christ but I suppose Jesus Christ really is a superstar and can demand top pay.

We skipped the gift shop on the way out.

 

 

Posted by on June 16, 2013 • Filed under: (Almost) Hidden DC, Art, Different, History, Sculpture, Statuary, Outdoor Art, Values and Ethics, Words

The Apparition

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Of Stones and People

Arlington

Here we are, on the cusp of Memorial Day, when we honor and remember those who died serving our country.

And, it’s a busy time for guiding here as schools across the country wind up the year with a DC trip.  Most include a foray to Arlington National Cemetery to visit the Tomb of the Unknown Soldiers.

The Cemetery is my favorite place to visit.  If that sounds odd, it’s really not.  It can be an exquisite and serene oasis in the city.  When quiet there is the rustle of wind in trees and the chorus of birds punctuated, as always, by the clatter of hooves on asphalt and gunfire in the distance as a final honor is bestowed.  Few words are needed to tell the story of this place.

The Cemetery is immense, some 630 acres, with tens of thousands of headstones, many of the uniform type, but thousands of others of all sizes and shapes.  For me, the stones have blended with the natural setting in a way to become almost one and the same.  They are as periods at the end of sentences we will never read.

A Spectral Sentry

 

Two days ago I was with a group of fifth graders for two days when on the evening of the first day one of them asserted that they had seen a “ghost” at Arlington earlier.  ”Right”, I answered back, to then be told there was a photo of the encounter which I obviously requested to see.

 

Out came the smartphone, and there, sure enough, in the center, was what looked to be a faint image of a long-ago soldier quietly attending–present and accounted for on the field of honor.

Alas, this is no ghost story as I doubt both the possibility and the provenance.  But it need not be about either if it reminds us instead of lives both lived and given in service.

Still, in this age of  ubiquitous “reality” please tell no one that I now wander the fields of Arlington fully enlivened by a fifth grader’s chance gift which now makes it a place of stones and people.

Posted by on May 24, 2013 • Filed under: (Almost) Hidden DC, A Life, Different, History, Religion and Spirituality, Sculpture, Statuary, Outdoor Art, Values and Ethics, War and Peace, Words

One Ringy Dingy

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When Going Back to Bed seems like a Good Idea

I am at that point in life where consolidation seems like a good idea: finances, possessions, you name it.

It was for that reason that I decided to make Verizon my single stop for home phone, internet and cell service.

Months ago I made the arrangements and even ordered a new cell phone from Verizon.  Like many “good” ideas I never got around to actually porting the number over from Virgin Mobile, until yesterday.

And yesterday was to be ambitious:  port the phone, have my taxes done and renew the registration on my vehicle on the last day possible.

So much for that plan.

Having ported the number over the night before, I expected to awake to my new Verizon service.  Not only did the old phone not work, the new one advised me that my service had been disconnected for non-payment.

I was able to call Verizon customer service to explain that I showed a $114 payment on March 15 but they could not hear me on the new phone.  That advised me to fax in proof of payment and promptly hung up.

I don’t know about you, but I don’t have a fax machine.  I located the proof online and went to print it, only to find that my virtually new Canon printer wouldn’t even turn on.

Coincidentally, renewing my vehicle registration online requires a printer for the temporary permit so that idea was also dead in the water.

So, it was off to the tax man, fairly brimming with confidence that last year’s changes, including the payment of estimated taxes would make this an easy task with perhaps, a rebate to recalibrate my day.

I shuffled out of the tax office at noon, $3600 poorer and I hadn’t even bought my lunch.

At least I wasn’t bothered by any phone calls.

My afternoon recovery plan included a Best Buy expedition for a new printer to jump start the other tasks.

$140 later I was home with a new printer.  Having disconnected the “old” one, I decided that nothing would be lost by trying the old “give it a good whack” technique before recycling it.  I dropped it about a foot onto a concrete floor, plugged it in and it now works fine.

Now I have two printers and a broken phone.

Maybe I’ll try that with the phone.

Tomorrow.

 

Posted by on April 4, 2013 • Filed under: A Life, Different

History and Race: March 18, 1942

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The War Relocation Act

Seventy-one years ago today Franklin Delano Roosevelt signed an executive order requiring 120,000 mostly Japanese-Americans to report for forced relocation.

In the wake of the December 1941 Pearl Harbor attack, politicians, leaders and many others concluded that all Americans exhibiting the features of Japanese ancestry were potential spies, soldiers or saboteurs.

Relocation Centers

Round-Up

While Asians and Asian-Americans were no doubt used to a degree of  racism, this detention based solely on physical characteristics was unprecedented.

The mass round-up devastated families and communities as businesses were sold and careers ended.

There were ten re-location centers, mostly in the west.  They were chosen partly because of their remote location and ironically were mostly on Native America Lands.  Native Americans, of course, were similarly “relocated” though more forcibly and permanently.

Arriving at a Center

A Bleak Life

Life at a center was minimalist, spare and institutional.  Living arrangements were barracks style, meals were taken in a common mess hall and space was strictly limited.  At the Topaz Center each person was allocated about 114 square feet.

Some internees were able to obtain jobs, mostly in agriculture.  Others concentrated on education, hobbies and “Americanization.”

 

“Gaman” Art

Gaman

Gaman is “a Japanese word that means to bear the seemingly unbearable with dignity and patience.”  Internees confined in a harsh environment bereft of personal possessions and objects turned to making art out of available materials such as wood, beads, and other found materials.  This art is now known as Gaman art and is amazing for its ingenuity and beauty.

Freedom and Memory

Memorial

As the war drew to a close, July 1945 spelled the end of all of the camps but one.  Internees were expected to move on with their lives though irreparable damage had been done in the cause of a false sense of security based on racial profiling and animus.

In 1992 Congress passed legislation to allow for the construction in Washington, DC, of  the “Memorial to Japanese-American Patriotism in World War II.”

The completed memorial now stands at Louisiana Ave and D St., Northwest.  It recognizes both the hardship of the internees as well as the profound courage and patriotism of the Japanese-Americans who served in the armed forces.  The accomplishments of the 100th Infantry Battalion/442nd Regimental Combat Team are legendary.  Twenty-one members were awarded the Congressional medal of Honor for their heroism and bravery.

Not bad for a bunch of “traitors.”

 

Sources: SI.edu, Wiki

Posted by on March 18, 2013 • Filed under: (Almost) Hidden DC, Administration & Leadership, Art, Command & Leadership, Different, History, Sculpture, Statuary, Outdoor Art, Values and Ethics, War and Peace, What We Call "Race", Words

Words: “She Read Me The Riot Act”

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Origins of an “Ass-Chewing”

Nothing makes the sting go away quicker than sharing it with others.  The term often employed, as short hand for the experience is “being read the riot act.”  It roles off our tongues and fits the occasion perfectly.  But what does it really mean?

While  Riot Act

It turns out that for an awfully long time that one could literally be read the Act.  Roy Porter, writing in, London: A Social History, points out that Londoners were, “used to expressing there loyalties on the streets…to stifle street politics, the Riot Act was passed in 1715.”

While it has its origins in 18th-century England, a similar act was used in America, as well.  Police forces in both countries are 19th-century inventions.  Prior to that, public safety was often the responsibility of parish officials and night watchman who may have been good at giving warning but were totally unequipped to stop a single criminal, much less a mob.

In fact, in London, New York and other cities, mobs ruled.  They may have been lightly under the control of this or that faction, but once they grew to a large enough size, they took on a life of their own.  They pulled down houses, started fires and murdered innocent people.  The Gordon riots in London and the NYC 1863 Draft riots are examples and of course, revolutionary Boston was infamous for its “patriotic” mobs.

With no police force, officials often relied on an elected sheriff and a militia to enforce order.  The Act, passed by Parliament, was literally read to the crowd, demanding they disburse.  They had an hour to do so, lot’s of time to cause mayhem before breaking up.  As was the case with many 18th-century laws, the punishment for defying the order was death, though it was rarely applied.

The last known reading of the Riot Act in England was in the 1920′s.

It has since been repealed though it still has its purpose today.

 

Posted by on March 11, 2013 • Filed under: Different, History, Words

Red Cross Get’s a Make-Over

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Martha at the Helm

As some folks know, I am a DC city guide.  The 2013 guiding season is underway despite the see-saw weather.

The newest memorial, honoring Martin Luther King, Jr,  is proving to be a big hit.  It may be the most well lit memorial for night time viewing in the city.  King’s words are crucial to the space.  The quotes have been superbly lighted from below.  (Since you asked, WWII is the worst lit, with many inscriptions disappearing when the sun sets.)

I had a delightful group of students this past Saturday.  We saw the sights for 11 hours, metro-ing our way around the City.  During the visit to the Vietnam Veteran’s Memorial we were at the part honoring women who served. The role of  nurses and war came up.  I asked them who started the American Red Cross and was instrumental in helping soldiers and families during the Civil War.

A hand shot up.

Martha Stewart

“Martha Stewart”, was the firm reply.

This easily makes my list of best Clara Barton stand-ins, bumping the previous reply of Betty Crocker from the number one position.

Of course, no one is immune from the occasional gaffe.  Last year I told 55 adults staying in Crystal City that they could  visit the Pentagon 9/11 Memorial by taking the hotel’s space shuttle over and the metro back.

I heard about that for the rest of the trip.

Houston, we have a problem.

 

 

 

Posted by on March 7, 2013 • Filed under: (Almost) Hidden DC, Different, History, Words

License to Die

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“License and Registration, Please”

First, thanks to everyone who read (and commented) yesterday about the “no-CPR” incident.   This update from the press:  ”Lorraine Bayless had chosen to live in a facility without medical staff and wanted to pass away without life-prolonging intervention, her family said Tuesday.”

Most, but not all,  commenters were somehow related to the health field.  But,  several folks shared their own experiences with a loved one which was quite valuable.

Common words were legality, professional, Do Not Resuscitate(DNR), duty, and licensing.  Even writers that were quite concerned about the ramifications of not acting expressed the need for people to die with dignity and freedom.

It’s hard not to conclude that in our litigious and buttoned-down society that the DNR order has become a license to die.  Without it, you risk ignominy or worse.  According to the Pasadena News, “City fire officials say Bayless did not have a “do not resuscitate” order on file at the home.”  Conservatives worth their salt and any libertarian should be aghast to know that you now need the city’s permission to die.

A Pioneer Death

She’s in the Parlor

Many of us are fortunate to have people in our lives who can recall a death at home where the corpse never left the house until the burial.  They were washed and dressed and placed in the parlor for folks to come and pay their respects.

Such a thing is probably illegal now but it illustrates how the process of death these days routinely includes transfer to a hospital, which should seem a little odd.

In one sense, this “we die at the hospital” mentality has now been walked back to the point that you are not allowed to die outside the hospital unless you have your DNR passport.

The emergency response system, including EMS, fire and 911 call takers are now part of the “you must die at the hospital” culture we live in.  In fact, Bakersfield became a story over a call taker’s “heroic” efforts to recruit a CPR provider.

The Last Trip

As a society we have created an environment where the universal last, great trip is being robbed of its ambiguity, grace and freedom.  In fact, the current system, especially for those content to go, argues in favor of a solitary death where the risk of interference is minimized.  We are all ultimately alone at the end, but that is a high price to pay.

I have several people in my life who “are ready.”  And, I have known others.  I hope that when their time comes that they make their transition free of pain, but with grace and dignity.

Thanks, again.

 

Posted by on March 6, 2013 • Filed under: Different, History, Religion and Spirituality, Values and Ethics, Words

Joan, the Holocaust and Hot Heidi

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Can Tragedy Be Funny For a Reason?

Joan Rivers

Joan Rivers, the nearly octogenarian, outrageous comedian, recently observed regarding Heidi Klum that, “The last time a German looked this hot was when they were pushing Jews into the ovens.”

The response has been predictable, including from the (Jewish) Anti-Defamation League, who said, “This remark is so vulgar and offensive to Jews and Holocaust survivors, and indeed to all Americans, that we cannot believe it made it to the airwaves…”

Rivers is Jewish and is refusing to apologize for the comment.   Does her tribal heritage provide a license to shock?  Rivers has said in part, “I can assure you that I have always made it a point to remind people of the Holocaust through humor.”

Indeed, when I read what she said I 1) laughed out loud, 2) felt guilty for doing so and then 3) thought about the Holocaust.

In the very near future holocaust survivors will be a thing of the past.  The power of a living connection with such a horrible event will be gone forever.   Anyone who has ever met and spoken to a Holocaust survivor can attest to the power of being in the presence of such a person.

The Holocaust will no longer exist as a memory but only as a historical fact.  The problem with these facts is that they seldom elicit an emotional response.  Something more is needed.

Rivers with her irreverence creates an emotional chain reaction that can result in some people connecting with the Holocaust  in a manner that is both unconventional and personal.  My own started with a laugh and resulted in a reflection.

Don’t forget, as Mrs. Lincoln once said, “Other than that, the play was great.”

 

 

Posted by on March 3, 2013 • Filed under: Different, History, Religion and Spirituality, Values and Ethics, War and Peace, What We Call "Race", Words

Irony: Alive and Well at the Holocaust Museum

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The Rules Will Be Followed

United States Holocaust
Memorial Museum

I have been working these past few years as a Washington, DC, city guide.  It’s a bit like working for the fire department.  Every day is different, nothing ever goes quite as planned, and you meet a lot of people along the way.

In addition to “interpreting” the city and its history, part of the job is acting as escort to help out-of-town folks negotiate unfamiliar territory as they visit the sites and the museums.  Whether it’s the White House, Capitol, Supreme Court, Mount Vernon or any of the other dozens of locations they all have their way of dealing with visitors.

Some require a security screening that may be largely cursory all the way up to the “no non-sense” operation at the Capitol.  Most balance the need for order and security with the idea that visitors should have the best experience possible as part of the objective of learning and civic engagement.

The United States Memorial Holocaust Museum (USMHM), federally supported with the mission of  teaching the history of the Holocaust and keeping us ever vigilant to the occurrence of genocide, takes an unusual approach to the visitor experience.  Students of history or even those who have seen a film such Sophie’s Choice, based on the best-selling novel by William Styron, will be familiar with the officious, unforgiving, bullying nature of death camp guards towards those arriving there.

I very recently took a group of young folks to the USMHM during a cold snap for a pre-arranged appointment.  We were right on time and had 90 minutes to spend there.  It was a blustery day with temperatures in the 30′s.  I had the kids stand in the sun as I went to make contact with the visitor representative.

He was dressed in a parka fit for the South Pole complete with the hood up.  I identified our group and our number(56)  and he studied his clip board only to announce that I could not enter until a second group of some 56 more arrived on another bus.  We knew not where the other bus was nor exactly when it might arrive.

As the kids shivered in the cold I pointed out that we had to go through security anyway so why not allow us to do so to speed up the process, save time and get them warm.  ”No” was the answer.

I tried speaking with other personnel.  When my unyielding “guard” was finally told to allow us to enter by a supervisor, he turned to me and said, “If your group goes in you will be forfeiting the reservation for the other 56.”   For those who have in fact seen Sophie’s Choice, I was in a similar situation.  In allowing my group to enter, I would prevent the others from doing so.  Of course, I declined and we cooled our heels (literally) until the others arrived.

All 112 of us now made our way through security before being allowed to queue up for the elevator that would take us up to the exhibition level.  We originally arrived with 90 minutes to experience the museum and 34 minutes had now ticked by as we waited to start.  I pointed out to a colleague that earlier that day we had toured the Washington National Cathedral in less time than it was taking us to enter the USMHM.

It’s hard to imagine that the USMHM can believe that it is fulfilling its mission by treating visitors in such a way.

But, rest assured–the rules were followed.

And, at long last, the elevator finally arrived.

 

Posted by on February 20, 2013 • Filed under: (Almost) Hidden DC, Books, Different, History, Travel, Values and Ethics, War and Peace

Travel: TIRE(D)

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Now, That’s a Workout.

Rickenbacker Causeway/Biscayne Bay

 

I spent part of this past week near Miami, Florida, sailing on Biscayne Bay.  The Bay separates the mainland from Miami Beach where the smart set go to trendy clubs.

The Bay is large and full of manatees, dolphins and rays.  This time of year the wind is good and the sailing, at least on an 18-foot catamaran, is fast.

 

 

Nixon with Rebozo and Hoover

 

The Bay also separates the City from Key Biscayne, a generally wealthy enclave perhaps best known as the southern White House of Richard Nixon where he also vacationed with his longtime friend Bebe Rebozo.

Rebozo was referred to as Nixon’s “bagman” and was thought to have taken payments for Nixon from Howard Hughes and others.

 

Rickenbacker, WWI Ace

The Causeway leading over the Bay to Key Biscayne is named for Edward Vernon “Eddie” Rickenbacker (1890-1973).

Rickenbacker fought to become  a pilot during the first World War with the 94th Aero squadron.  He was deemed to be too essential as a gifted engineer/mechanic but finally won his wings.

He went on to score 26 aerial victories, the most of any WWI pilot and eventually received the Congressional Medal of Honor.  He is pictured here in his Spad XIII.

 

Tire Drag

 

As my sailing day came to a close, I began my walk south, over the fairly steep causeway back towards downtown Miami.  Coming toward me, just exiting the causeway, was what appeared to be an elderly gentleman struggling to jog on what was a hot, sunny, 80 degree Florida afternoon.  I admired his persistence.

As we closed the distance between us I could see that I was wrong, that my elderly man was instead a shaved-head fellow no older than his early forties but still having a pretty tough time.

We nodded as we passed and it was only then that I noticed that he had a harness around his mid-section connected to a rope.  At the other end of the twenty foot rope was a good size truck tire that he was dragging, apparently up and over the causeway.  It was cross-fit on steroids and tough enough to make even Eddie Rickenbacker proud.

I kept walking, momentarily elated that I had crossed paths with someone who makes even me seem normal.  God bless him.

 

(Wiki)

Posted by on January 14, 2013 • Filed under: A Life, Different, Firefighter Safety & Health, History, Safety and Health, Travel

Travel in Nepal: Farming the Old Fashioned Way

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Stepping Back in Time

During my recent trekking trip to northern Nepal we found ourselves well off the beaten track in a world largely untouched by electricity and completely free from mechanized agriculture. Fields are cultivated, sown and harvested using only human or animal power.  It’s early 19th century farming alive and well in 2012.

Livestock

 

 

Goats, sheep, oxen, buffalo, yaks, mules and horses are all plentiful.  Animals are rarely slaughtered for meat since they are far more valuable as sources for dairy products and to help in the fields.

 

 

 

 

 

Rice Paddy

 

 

 

Rice is an extremely important crop even in the steep and hilly valleys.  Over successive generations the land has been terraced to allow for maximum planting.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Harvest

 

 

We were walking through the country during a harvest period.  Rice and other crops are cut down by hand with whole families pitching in.  Very little is wasted as the rice stalks will be dried and used for fodder for farm animals over the winter.

 

 

 

 

 

Corn Crib

 

 

 

Corn dries in a crib alongside the trail.  It is elevated to keep pests away.  The corn could be used as feed but is also valuable as it can be ground into meal.

 

 

 

 

Making Meal

 

 

Here a young lady is grinding corn into meal.  She uses two flat rocks, one on top of another, with the top one having a hole in the center and a wooden handle for turning.  Dried corn kernels from the pan are dropped into the hole and the spinning of the handle crushes the kernels between the stones.  Meal spills out the sides onto the woven mat.

 

 

 

 

Thresh, Winnow, Fodder

 

 

In the background six buffalo are tightly yoked together and are being driven around a pole.  Their collective weight threshes the rice.  A pile of un-winnowed rice is visible in the center as two men hold winnowing mats.  They toss the rice into the air, the chaff  floats away and at their feet is harvested rice.  On the right, a team takes the threshings and hands them down to a man who is building a stack which will serve as winter animal fodder.

 

 

 

Ready for Winter

 

 

An immaculate field ready for the coming season with rice stalks stacked.  (Note fields in far background.)

 

 

 

 

 

Ganga Fields

 

 

Marijuana grows in the wild; this field stretched for miles.  No one seemed to be tending it though the buffalo were especially content.

 

 

 

 

 

Posted by on December 30, 2012 • Filed under: Different, History, Travel

Almost Hidden DC: What Lovely Lamps You Have

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The (mostly) federal buildings around the city are adorned with some extraordinary lighting.

Ford House Building
441 D Street, SW

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Library of Congress, Adams Building
2nd Street SE

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

National Archives
700 Pennsylvania Ave., NW

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

National Gallery of Art, West Building
4th and Constitution Ave., NW

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

American Red Cross
17th and E Street, NW

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

US Capitol
East Front

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

US Federal Reserve
20th and Constitution Ave., NW

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

National Academy of Sciences
2101 Constitution Ave., NW

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Organization of American States
200 17th Street, NW

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Bartholdi Fountain
US Botanic Garden

Posted by on December 25, 2012 • Filed under: (Almost) Hidden DC, Art, Different, History, Sculpture, Statuary, Outdoor Art

Pass THE Mushroom

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That Simple Christmas Feast

Tuber Melanosporum

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

In this delightful season when we think of others, often those less fortunate than we are, there is the focus of Christmas, the traditional feast, where participants can communally reflect on the notion that it is “better to give than to receive.”

Uh, hold that thought and pass THE mushroom.

News is leaking out that the French Black Perigord truffle crop is coming up short and that prices are soaring. Black Perigords, (we say “mushrooms” in West Virginia), are also known as black diamonds as they sell for $1200 a pound.

A single truffle large enough to dress a turkey runs about $138.  So much for the mushroom pie.

Oh well, so what if 2 billion people live on $2.50 a day–it’s the thought that counts.

Merry Christmas!

 

(Credits:  NYT, Guardian)

 

Posted by on December 23, 2012 • Filed under: Different, Values and Ethics

Himalayan Kingdom: Heading to Nepal

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Half the Fun is Getting There?

I am on the way to the Himalayas for a month to trek and spend time in Kathmandu, if I ever get there.

This is my fourth trip to Nepal but it’s been sometime and I guess I forgot that it is not around the corner, by a long shot.

Some will recall that it is a fairly small country, 57,000 square miles and it is squished, literally, between India and Tibet.  The southern part of the country mirrors the climate and topography of India while the same is true on the Tibetan side.   It is there that eight of the ten tallest mountains in the world spring up from the grinding together of opposing tectonic plates.

In search of the cheapest business class fare, I flew from Baltimore to Chicago where I caught an Air India flight, non-stop, to Delhi, where I sit, waiting on the final leg up to Kathmandu.  That’s 14 1/2 hours from Chicago on a B-777-300 ER with additional four hour layovers here and there.  I remain amazed that any airplane can fly that far non-stop but it is even more amazing that on arrival at Delhi it would be serviced in a few hours and on the way back to Chicago.  That’s the ticket, day-after-day.

As an American, the cabin service seems funny–it’s chaos in the kitchen and you just eat what they bring till you can’t anymore.  But always with the opening question, “Veg or non-veg?”  After ordering non-veg, they came around with a cart and I dutifully ate the fish and chicken they offered only to later discover that it was simply an appetizer. Dinner looked good, even if I didn’t eat it when it arrived because I was stuffed.

Delhi is as I remembered it, at least from the air, is sprawling and very polluted with the sun setting in one of those orange hazes where it is a burning ball, viewed through noxious gases.  One of my enduring memories of the city is a pedestrian fatality laying in the middle of a busy street, surrounded by traffic cones, as people went there merry way, careening.  Life (and death) has a different price here.

Well, it’s time to head to the gate.  Catch up soon.

.

Posted by on November 3, 2012 • Filed under: A Life, Different, Travel

Pups: Giant Wiener Dog in Tug of War

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But Still Plenty to Go Around

Obie

Our nationwide obesity epidemic has run riot through the human population, and like a lethal flu virus has leaped to the canine species.

Meet Obie, the apparent current title holder of the world’s plumpest weiner dog, weighing in at a hefty 77 pounds.

The Obster is so rotund that his abdomen meets the ground well before his paws.

The Obster, Belly Up

But fear not, hugeness sells and Obie is a nascent celeb appearing this week alone, on Live With Kelly and Michael and the Today Show, though probably not on anyone’s lap.

Could stardom be why Oregon Dachshund Rescue owner Jenell Rangan has demanded the return of Obie Won from Nora Vanatta, who temporarily adopted him and who has guided him down to a comparatively svelte 60 pounds with a no-nonsense diet and hydrotherapy?

Jennell Rangan
Wiener Dog Rescuer

We here at Turnout feel strongly that Obie should be left in the care of Ms Vanatta for many reasons, not the least of which is Jennell’s hair or whatever that is.

Go, Obie, Go.

 

http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-2223610/Nora-Vanatta-Obie-obese-dachshund-centre-custody-battle.html

(Source:  Daily Mail, NYDN)

Posted by on October 27, 2012 • Filed under: Different, Safety and Health, Values and Ethics

Nudists in the News

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Nigel the Nudist Paramedic

Not Nigel

They say that “idle hands are the devil’s workshop.”

UK Paramedic Nigel Webb is reported to have had a wee bit of spare time on his hands whilst waiting for his next run.

Which led him to the local Little Chef (see:  Burger King) where, according to the Daily Mail, he chatted up the waitress about “naturism” and the lack of tan lines.

Not content to tell, he proceeded to show, dropping his trousers, presumably so she could eyeball for herself, saying, “Look, no white bits.”

That bit of “unbuckled” exuberance resulted in a 12-month suspension, plenty of time to work on that tan.

The Nudie Professor

Professor Dunstan

Jumping out of bushes to pester frightened schoolgirls is not something that David Dunstan, a professor of experimental physics at London University, takes very kindly to being accused of.

Yet, there you have it.

The Telegraph reports that Professor Dunston was himself accosted wrongly by the Surrey police who accused him of the act though they admitted the perpetrator had “tan lines” something he, of course, did not.   Did it take Scotland Yard to figure that out?

Dunston said, “officers admitted they were following a “propensity theory”, that naturists are more likely than most to commit crimes involving exposure.”

One rather admires the British habit of rambling in the buff,  doesn’t one?

 

(Sources:  Telegraph, Daily Mail and Huff Post)

Posted by on October 24, 2012 • Filed under: Different

Cowboy Greeter Seriously Burned at Texas Fair

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Former Santa Claus

Texas mourns today as word spread of the injuries sustained by “Big Tex”, the official greeter at the fair.

Investigators suspect that an electrical fault may have caused the deadly blaze.  Governor Rick Perry issued a statement, calling it a “Sad day…across the Lone Star State.”

Tex, 60, has been on the job since 1950, amassing a loyal following.

Prior to his cowboy career, Tex served a brief stint as Santa Claus.  Though he seldom talked about the experience, he confided to close friends that while “he could handle a stampede of Texas longhorns, those damn reindeer were a pain in the A–.”

In a move sure to create controversy, recruitment for a replacement is already underway.

Big Tex
(AP)

 

(SOURCE: NYT, AP)

Posted by on October 20, 2012 • Filed under: Different, History, Sculpture, Statuary, Outdoor Art

Not a “Trusted Traveler”: Yongda Huang Harris

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Boston Resident, Returning From Japan, Detained

Mr. Harris

Suit case contents:

“Knives, body bags, a hatchet, a collapsible baton, a biohazard suit, a full-face respirator, billy clubs, handcuffs, leg irons and a device to repel dogs” (NYT)

(and a smoke grenade.)

Yongda, a US citizen, was also wearing a bullet-proof vest and flame resistant pants.

In a bizarre twist to an already odd story, Mr. Harris has retained Steven Seiden who also is representing Mark Basseley Youssef, the man responsible for the recent anti-Islam and violence producing video.

A spokesperson for Attorney Williams described Harris as,”very intelligent, earning A’s in high school and college calculus.”

Well then, that explains it.

 

(Sources:  NYT, AP, CBS)

Posted by on October 10, 2012 • Filed under: Different, Travel

Package Check: Blame it on the Ladies

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The Incredible Shrinking Weenie

Any list of the least credible information sources would undoubtedly include Italian researchers and, of course, our own Rush.  In fact, that may be the only match-up where Italians come out first.

Weener Dog

It seems that the Italians have been researching the size of the male sexual organ, hard work if you can get it, and have determined that it has shrunk in size 10% over the last 50 years.  (Though it’s not clear, I assume they mean newly arriving penises are smaller rather than losing what I already have, though I am sure there is a medication for that, too.)

According to Rush, they cite air pollution as the reason though he is inclined to blame it on “feminazis”, presumably women who exhibit ability outside the kitchen or the bedroom.

At long last, a reason to be over 50.

Posted by on September 22, 2012 • Filed under: A Life, Different, Sex

County Fair: Some Monkey (and Gator) Business

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It’s That Time of Year

This is when we celebrate the American farmer with the ubiquitous county fair: pure bred swine, rabbits, sheep and dairy steer and don’t forget the mule team obstacle course.  So much to choose from.

In my youth the big attraction, livestock aside, was the “Man Fights Chimp” show where a brawny but hapless fellow whose belt size matched his IQ would take up the trainer’s bet that he could whip a monkey fair and square.

The night I attended, the trainer asked the human if he would like a pair of pants which seemed a bit odd as the fellow was already wearing a pair.  What the trainer meant was “would you like a SECOND pair.”  This should have tipped off the aspiring pugilist that adventure was in the offing.  Though puzzled, he took and put on the second pair.

The other tip off should have been the full length ceiling mounted chin-up bar inside the 20-foot by ten-foot cage.  (I believe they call that a “jungle gym” with good reason.)

Needless to say, the poor guy never had a chance.  The chimp, maybe 80 lbs., was on him like a cheap suit.  And speaking of clothes, somehow during the short fray, he got both pairs of pants off of old Homo Sapiens, who emerged dazed in his bloody boxers.  As I recall, it was quite a spectacle, at least to a 15-year-old.

The 21st century version of this, at least at the Cuyahoha County Fair, is alligator wrestling.  This past week a trainer team was dazzling the crowd as one of them would stick his hand in the gator’s mouth and remove it just prior to the chomp.

This was followed by the trainer wrestling the gator from behind when said slippery gator got him by the arm.

He was one cool cucumber as the other trainer eventually coaxed the jaws open and he made his retreat.

The trainer closed with “Well folks, these things happen. Dan’s gonna go get some medical care. We’ll be back tomorrow.”

They weren’t.

 

 

Source:  Daily Mail and YouTube

Read more: http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-2187306/Watch-terrifying-moment-handler-attacked-alligator-county-fair.html#ixzz23OA3lgQq

 

Posted by on August 18, 2012 • Filed under: Different

Firefighting, Flying and the Future

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To FLY

The Public Domain Review is showcasing a set of cards from the end of the 19th century which depict what life will be like in the year 2000.  The 100-year-old renderings attempt to capture the lives we are living today.

Not surprisingly, they portray a mechanized world.  Everything from war fighting to dry cleaning to poultry farming is done by machine and we are theoretically the better for it.  In the 1890′s the world was ablaze with the industrial age and perhaps it was easy to dream of a future where tasks, from the mundane to the exotic, would benefit from technology.

Many of the cards display a fascination with the dream of flight.   Aeronautical experimentation was occurring everywhere.  Lilienthal in Germany, Hargrave in England, Chanute and Herring in the US and others were testing manned-flight using gliders, kites and even steam-powered aircraft.

The Flying Firefighters hover like moths around a flame as they simultaneously apply water and effect a rescue under the direction of a watchful commander.  Curiously, the engine far below seems to be a steam-apparatus fueled by ordinary combustibles.  The mind can aspire, but only so far.

It’s hard not conclude that we are frozen in time, somewhere between the romance of the past and the fantasy of the future.  Personal flight is a dream unfulfilled.  We still use combustion to go hither and yon, and still largely rely on water under pressure to vanquish the enemy.  And firefighters still retain their legendary stature as heroes and takers of risk.

It’s tempting to imagine our card for 2100.  Will we hover valiantly before the flame or be rendered arcane and relegated to history?

Only time will tell.

 

Posted by on August 10, 2012 • Filed under: Art, Different, History

Rich and (In)Famous

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This is a story about wealth and power.

Denise Rich

Word emerged this week that Denise Rich, songwriter and former wife of  well, uber-rich, Mark Rich, had renounced her American citizenship to become Austrian, in order “to be closer to her family.”  Rueters reports that Ms. Rich could save “tens of millions of dollars or more in US taxes”.

Marc Rich

Former hubby, Mark, was indicted in 1983 for tax invasion and for illegally trading with Iran.  (George Lardner reports that one of the deals was an oil trade while Iran was holding American hostages.) Rich sought haven in Switzerland and was an international fugitive for 17 years and was on the FBI’s Ten Most Wanted List.  He never returned to the US to face the charges or stand trial.

Bill Clinton and Denise Rich

On January 20, 2001, hours before leaving office, then President Bill Clinton issued a pardon to Marc Rich despite the fact that he was a fugitive.  Denise Rich had made large contributions to the Democratic Party and to the Clinton Library. An investigation by a US House of Representatives committee found that those donations influenced the decision.  Former President Jimmy Carter and others called Clinton’s pardon of Rich “disgraceful.”

Eric Holder

The pardon was aided by Eric Holder, the current attorney general of the United States  who was Bill Clinton’s deputy attorney general when the pardon occurred.  Eric Holder became personally involved in the Rich pardon and even advised Rich’s lawyers to circumvent the standard pardon process and go straight to the White House.  Holder kept his own staff in the dark about his dealings and after the pardon was granted, sought jobs for two former aides with Jack Quinn, a Rich attorney.

Holder’s conduct was despicable and if House Republican Darrell Issa‘s Fast and Furious investigation is his undoing it will be a bit of late justice coming, admittedly, from a very unlikely source.

By the way, for all of you New World Order Conspiracy types, of course there is a Jewish connection.  Holder told the White House that he was “neutral leaning toward favoring” the pardon because the Israelis, in the form of then Prime Minister Ehud Barak, were lobbying for it.  Marc Rich had made substantial contributions to Israeli charities.

All this must really piss off the Jonathon Pollard family.  Both Rich and Pollard are traitors and yet Rich never served a day in jail.  It helps if Bubba thinks your ex is “purdy” and you can throw around some very serious cash.  And, levying a monetary penalty against Marc Rich is like withholding Jabba the Hutt’s hors  d’oeuvres–it will hardly be noticed.

Scooter Libby

Speaking of Mr. Issa and republicans, we can start to wrap this up by mentioning that Scooter Libby, one of Marc Rich’s many lawyers, went on to become Chief of Staff to Vice President Dick Cheney and would one day ironically be a candidate for a presidential pardon, himself.  Mr. Libby testified before congress that he believed that Marc Rich was not guilty of the tax charges.  He also said that Rich’s trading with Iran was not illegal though Rich could be considered a “traitor”, a deft bit of shambling legalese.

The “Scooter” had his feet in both piles of shit as he was eventually convicted of obstruction of justice, perjury, and making false statements in the Bush White House scandal regarding the leaking of Valery Plame Wilson’s identity as a CIA operative.  He received a fine and 30-month prison sentence which then President George W. Bush commuted, though Bush declined to pardon Libby for his crimes.

George W. Bush

Viewed from afar it appears that your chances are better if you are a traitor (Rich) under a Democratic President (Clinton) than if you are a liar (Libby) under a Republican (Bush) one.  And, things have come to a pretty pass when W looks ethically correct, principled and measured.

Denise and Marc Rich, Bill Clinton, Scooter Libby, Eric Holder–both republicans and democrats–prove conclusively that the wealthy and powerful have, and play by, a different set of rules where justice is routinely perverted and power is abused.  But let’s face it,  Denise Rich takes the cake–she helped prove that American Justice is both unfair and capricious and then tossed away the sacred gift of citizenship as she strode out the door.

Obviously, there is no morality to this story but the moral is always have a good attorney.

Just ask Marc Rich.

 

Credits: WiKi, NYT, NYDN, USHR, Rueters, WSJ

Posted by on July 12, 2012 • Filed under: Different, History, Values and Ethics

40,000 Years

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I don’t know my eons from my eras and the very sound of the words reminds me of rocks, dinosaurs and natural history and I start to get very sleepy.

And while forty thousand years is a long time, it is just barely imaginable.  I once earned that much in dollars so I have a vague sense of the number.

A news story appeared last week regarding the now famous ancient cave paintings in Spain and France.  A new and improved method of radionuclide dating comes close to putting them at or in the Neanderthal period, at least 40,000 years ago,  meaning that they could have been created by early ancestors of Cro-Magnon, our ancient relative.

The drawings, of hands, animals and geometric figures are beautiful and mysterious.  Many will know that they are often found deep in the caves in areas that are both pitch black and inaccessible.  How did they find their way and why were they doing it?

Jean Clottes, an acknowledged expert on cave art has defined art as, “the result of the projection of a strong mental image on the world, in order to interpret and transform reality, and recreate it in a material form.”

These paintings suggest that our closest, direct biologic ancestors, some 400 centuries ago, apparently felt compelled to interpret and record their life experience.  It is a far cry from my understanding of the life or intellect of the hunter-gatherer.

Creating this art took time and resources.  Not only did the pigments have to be manufactured, but  torches and lamps were necessary to light the way and to paint.  But, why create art in a place where it would never be seen?  (Did they suspect that one day it would be?)

Art in modern society is divorced from the concept of the essential.  It is mostly viewed as the province of the elite and the playground of the dilettante.  But the caves of Chauvet and Lascaux suggest otherwise.

They prove that at the very dawn of our time, and for purposes unknown, we sought inaccessible and dangerous places to create art.  In a time when human sustenance hinged on a never-ending search for food, their need to draw, paint and sculpt was an imperative one.

The blown-pigment and negative-image hands are especially haunting.  They literally reach across the vast distance, beckoning, perhaps asking to be remembered by us, from a time long gone.

If Clottes is correct, that art helps us to explain life, perhaps part of the riddle is solved.  Then as now, we experience our existence and are deeply compelled to attempt to explain it or put it into context, spiritual or otherwise.  It’s a bit of a relief, a comfort really, to know that the quest to understand our existence is as old as we are.

Posted by on June 21, 2012 • Filed under: Art, Different, History, Religion and Spirituality

Demise of the Wandering Mind

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No Gettysburgh Tweet

I always thought that slaves in America were confined to a never-ending existence of unrelieved dawn-to-dusk forced labor.  Turns out I was mistaken, at least in part. Many 18th century slaves in the south worked in a task-based system. When they finished their task, usually hoeing a quarter-acre plot, they were done for the day.  These slaves then proceeded to work their own fields, growing produce for sale or barter.  Even slaves escaped the hoe.  Not so, we.

The 21st century hoe comes in the form of the now ubiquitous and eminently portable communication devices that through their very portability keep us tied to the drudgery and ultimate curse of never-ending contact defined as “work” or “keeping in touch.”

I live and work in an urban environment where people walk everywhere and the number of people totally absorbed in a tiny screen as they literally stumble through life is astonishing.  I assume, with good reason, that millions of others are similarly absorbed while driving.  A good portion of those not reading or texting are yammering away sharing their most intimate thoughts with whichever complete stranger has the misfortune to be within hearing distance.

By the way, this is not a post about the physical dangers of walking/driving/talking/texting or the boorish behavior of those who do, but rather a brief musing on the loss of free time for the mind.

Anyone age 30 or older can conjure up a memory of a time when working and keeping in touch were voluntary activities requiring some effort and where the expectation to do either was tempered by the realities and constraints of time and space.  Either the form of the work did not lend itself to seamless activity or contact and connection had to wait until one arrived at a place.  Ah, for the good old days.

That distant past was filled with enforced periods of work-free silence and non-contact where our minds were free to wander and take in the random scenes of life around us.  We observed, mused, recoiled, engaged and wondered at the complexity of the world we passed through.  Those days are long gone.  We are now incessantly and obsessively absorbed and engaged in an electronic and virtual world where the real one passes by unnoticed as we sneak glances for the incoming message or blurt out, “I have to take this call.”

If there is a mystery to life found only in the unengaged and “in-between” moments, most of us will never see or feel the power of it as we have blindly forfeited that opportunity in order to remain connected to an equally absorbed society.  Imagine the horror of “waking up” in your sixties to the realization that you knowingly strolled through life in a trance of your own devising.

This all makes me think of times past and how the world might be different had our forbearers been similarly plagued with our “connectedness.”  I imagine Abraham Lincoln on that long and late autumn train ride up to Gettysburg in November of 1863.  He realizes that this is the moment to redefine the purpose of the titanic conflict and he struggles for the exact phrases to give meaning to the war.  A few words are typed on his iPad but he is constantly bedeviled by incoming texts from Secretary of War Staunton and cell calls from Nicolay and Hay about the waiting crowd at Gettysburg.

Aware that a great moment is in the offing and that the golden trees gliding by will silently offer their inspiration and meaning, he turns both cell and iPad off, takes a scrap of paper from his up-turned hat and settles down to work.

 

Posted by on June 11, 2012 • Filed under: A Life, Different, Safety and Health, Values and Ethics

T. A. and the Bet

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Some readers here will know that my vocation of late is as a DC tour guide.  I work for a company that assigns me to incoming groups who are here to see the sights.  I have not enjoyed working this much since I was a firefighter.  Curiously, the jobs have much in common.  I am outside walking most of the day and every group and itinerary is different.  As with the FD, you never know what to expect.

And, Washington is an endlessly fascinating city if you enjoy history.  In the area around the White House, bordered by 17, 15, H and Constitution streets, there are 30 buildings, memorials or sculptures of note.  Art, architecture and history seemingly sprout from every crevice.

Most of my groups are students and a goodly portion of those are middle schoolers from all over and as far away as India, though most arrive by a chartered coach.  They are typical young teenagers delighted with themselves and obsessed with what passes for fashion and modern culture.

Some of them are quite bright and know their American history enough to keep me well up on my toes.  I have had several Asperger’s boys who could answer any history question they were asked.  Imagine a child of ten years blithely naming all the Japanese carriers sunk at Midway or a 12 twelve year old discussing the similarities between Hitler’s attack on the USSR and Napoleon’s failed march on Moscow.  Amazing.

But it can be very funny, too.

This year, on at least four occasions, I have walked groups over to the presidential memorial to Thomas Jefferson located on the Tidal Basin.  After confirming with them where they were, I asked what Jefferson was best known for.  Each time they answered, “He’s the guy who invented the light bulb.”  As I am a bit slow on the uptake, the first time I didn’t even get it but it later dawned on me [light bulb pops on] that they were talking about Thomas Alva Edison.  I guess the Jefferson Memorial does look a bit like a light bulb and perhaps this subliminal connection is the cause.

A few days ago on a superb Sunday evening I was taking a group on a leisurely after dinner stroll around President’s Park.  We had stopped at the US Army Second Division Memorial and were now in front of the beautiful building that is the headquarters of the American Red Cross.  I asked the students who founded the organization.  There was a brief pause and one boy confidently called out, “Betty Crocker.”

The teachers and chaperones were laughing hysterically and I told the fellow that while he was incorrect it was the best answer I had ever heard.

And then, it was off to the White House.

 

 

 

Posted by on June 6, 2012 • Filed under: (Almost) Hidden DC, Different, History, Sculpture, Statuary, Outdoor Art, Words