Poems

Ready, Set, Go!

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The news from the European Organization for Nuclear Research (CERN), Large Hadron Collider near Geneva and the Gran Sasso National Laboratory in Italy that they have measured particles traveling faster than the speed of light is certainly exciting, puzzling news. We’re not sure exactly what position Einstein is in right now, but he might be turned on his head. The thought that something, anything, could travel faster than light, opens up a new frontier, which somehow got me thinking about one of my favorite sing-song poets, a bard of the vast unexplored spaces, Robert W. Service.

I looked over The Cremation of Sam McGee and The Shooting of Dan McGraw to get that rhythm in my head, and wondered what Service might do with the latest scientific scuttlebutt.

In the Gran Sasso, below rock and snow
that’s where scientists discern
measurements of speed as they keep a bead
on the stuff that’s launched from CERN.

The monotony generates ennui
in the physics racing game.
When the flag goes down they bestow their crown
on one candidate. The same.

It is always light that takes home the bright
shiny trophy they bestow.
Light is faster than any beast or man.
Light to win, to place, to show.

That’s the racing line set by Al Einstein,
who gauged E and MC’s burst
The result, said he, with great certainty
is that light MUST finish first.

Still the races ran with nary a fan
for each time just like the last
When results were shown, ‘twas already known
‘twas the light, by far, most fast.

Then one darkling day down along the way
came a stranger small but game
As he whizzed around it was quickly found
That Neutrino was his name

When he challenged light to a race that night
oh, the merriment was thick.
But when all was said the speed meters read
‘twas Neutrino, by a tic.

Oh, the hew and cry. The Italian sky
was vibrating with the din.
For no one could say what it meant the day
when light raced, but did not win.

In what area are you unbeatable?

77 thoughts on “Ready, Set, Go!”

  2. Morning all. Sorry I missed you all yesterday… too full a plate this week. I love today’s topic – I have a love for this kind of stuff, from my father I think. I’ll have to pull out my “I Survived the Hadron Collector – Yeah Science!” sweatshirt today.

    As for me, I can organize anything within an inch of it’s life. If making a list is involved, even better!

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  3. Since my right hand is working today, I’ll grab the occasion to make a reply. I’m sorry to have failed to reply to other good topics this week. Like Clyde, I have led an odd life that has produced odd skills:

    1) I’m better at Klondike Solitaire than anyone I’ve heard of.

    2) I am better at understanding the minds of ring-necked pheasants than anyone I know of.

    3) And I have a special lie detector that goes off at the oddest moments to let me know that someone is not telling the truth. This skill can be useful or a damned nuisance, such as yesterday when a doctor was trying to tell me I didn’t need to be concerned about a problem “yet” and I suddenly saw that she was so scared for me that she was having trouble talking.

    Have a loverly weekend, dear baboons. Spend a little time grooming the ones you love. That’s what makes life in a baboon society worth living.

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    1. Nice to hear from you Steve–I’ve missed your comments. We have pheasants in the woods and wetland behind our house. If you want a psychic pheasant experience in a suburban area, our little park is the place for you!

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      2. Jacque… sorry I missed your open house. I’m having “tissue” issues (another thing doctors say when they haven’t a clue) and spent evening laying down w/ ice pack on my ankle. But I was thinking of you!

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      4. VS. We missed you, but we were all delighted with the party. Hope your “tissue issue” resolves. With my increasing aches and pains, ice and ibuprofen seem to work on many vague complaints.

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    2. May it stay well.
      I have lived an odd life and done many things.
      Along the way proved that I am very beatable at all of them.
      Writing fiction is most definitely a beatable effort (not naming it a skill).
      But like tim I persist.

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    3. It’s very good to hear from you, Steve. We’ve missed you here on the Trail. I hope that you are well and that your wrist continues to improve. Please let us know if there’s anything we can do to help.

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  4. Rise and Shine Baboons!

    Dale, I enjoyed your poem–you’ve been out of the poem business lately. Good to have you back!

    I am pretty unbeatable at baking pies, cakes, and yummy sweet stuff like caramel rolls. Unfortunately I am unbeatable at sampling them, which leads to unbeatable plumpness. I also have a knack for tomato growing–although no State Fair Grand Champion tomatoes because I’ve never entered them. I always eat them or can them first. My family tells me I make world class Wild Grape Jelly, as well.

    (Meanwhile, thanks to the lovely Baboon Friends who participated in the Open House last night. My feet still hurt. The ones who sampled the Almond Cake can testify to the cake baking unbeatable-ness. We had a fun Open House with our professional neighbors, our family members, other mental health professionals, and interested people stopping by.)

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    1. nice shin dig jacque. very nice office space. i had a vision of a small little counseing office and it is about twice the size i expected. i don’t know what you started with but the end result of the remodel is wonderful and in a wonderful part of saint paul.
      food and drink were plentiful and the vibe was delightful. thanks to steve for helping me navagate and good to see fellow baboons out and about.

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      1. Gooey Almond Cake
        Gooey Almond Cake
        Serves 8 to 12

        ¾ c. butter or salad oil
        1 ½ c. sugar
        2 eggs
        1 ½ c. flour
        ½ t. vanilla
        2 t. almond extract
        pinch of salt
        raw sugar to sprinkle on top
        sliced almonds to sprinkle on top

        Mix all of this except almonds and raw rugar, by hand. Cream sugar and shortening together. Add the eggs one at a time. Add vanilla, almond extract, salt and stir. Stir in the flour.

        Line an 8 or 10 inch skillet (I use cast iron) with aluminum foil. Pour the batter into the foil. Sprinkle with sugar and sliced almonds. Bake for 30-35 minutes in a 350 degree oven. When cooed, invert onto a plate and peel off the foil. Turn over. Slice like a pie and enjoy.

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  5. i am unbeatable at persistance. i may not win i may not get what i hoped for i may not know where the heck i am going sometimes but i just keep plugging away trying to get there. i have a friend who works from 6 am to 6 pm every day and gets lots done but he was stumped when he got fired two years ago did not know what to do with himself. i offered him a couple opportunities but they were not structured enough. i navagate chaos pretty well and think on the move. its like a chess game in motion wher ehte last move you made determines whea the next one will be and so on and so on and so on. i remember having dreams years ago about going through the maze hedges and trying to find my way, those dreams are past now. i think i am comfortable with the notion that security is only needed by the insecure.
    off to gem my mom one step closer to her next chapter, trip two in the moving stuff from leach to the twin cities in anticipation of her final move in october. bittersweet stuff. every box holds a story, every corner a reminder of a treasured memory. its nice that she is going to her new chaprtere with her chin up and her anticipation guided by a positive outlook. today i move the art supplies including a potters wheel and kiln and stack upon stack of stored art and supplies. furniture and knick knacks maybe if there is room but the riding lawn mower and golf cart will bring up the rear. i am pretty good at flexibility and i would guess i have her to thank for that. she is not exactly moving into uncharted waters.. just uncharted by her.

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    1. “…security is only needed by the insecure…”

      Like. Very wise and true. Good luck with your mom’s move. It is difficult. Opening the boxes and sniffing “home when I was a child” is powerful.

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    3. Are persistence and stubbornness the same thing? If so, I’ll give you a run for your money, tim. I’ll also quit calling myself stubborn as persistence has a much more positive ring to it. As I’ve already revealed here, I’m a Jack of all trades and a master of none; don’t consider myself unbeatable at anything. If I think of anything, I’ll let you know.

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  6. Your self description reminds me, tim, of the time I was fishing the MN walleye opener with Ron Schara and some DNR guys, four boats in all. We were all trailering expensive boats, hopping from lake to lake, trying to find one where walleyes were hungry. As we roared around on gravel roads near Alexandria one of the DNR guys came on the CB to say, “Good news and bad news, guys! Bad news is that we’re hopelessly lost. Good news is we’re making great time!”

    More than any man I know, tim, you seem to have discovered clever work-arounds for your shortcomings.

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  7. When I was still doing a lot of theater, I developed a knack for building sets on a shoestring budget (some of them were *really* shoestring…like the set I built for $50 for a community college, and $150 for a production of “Mulan”). This requires not only an ability to beg, borrow and steal – but also an ability to design based on re-purposing existing pieces and parts and available paint colors. The $50 set had two base colors that were mixes from partial cans of paint that were on hand and a fervent prayer that I didn’t run out of one or the other before I was done with the base coats (also a certain amount of forgiveness from the cast and director since I had to use some paint that had “turned” and was, um, extra fragrant…). “Mulan” required being totally free-standing, not make use of flies and minimal wing space, and had to be able to be transported from where it was built to the theater in an odd assortment of SUVs. Hmm – interesting – just realized that both of these sets were for shows set in China…hmm…

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  9. I am unbeatable at growing flowers, particularly irises, dahlias, and roses. I don’t have an interest or knack in maintaining a perfect green lawn, which is why we have dug up most of ours for garden space. I am happy to report that we have had no more sightings of the weasel, but that may change since i have a strong urge to clean the garage this weekend. Who knows what weasel lurks in the dark recesses of the garage?

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  10. Good morning to all,

    That’s my problem, I look like someone who is too slow to win at anything. If you look closer you will find that secretly I do think I am preaty smart and I think that I can be a winner at many things.
    Actually, I don’t want to enter most races and was excluded from some of them. I am hoping that I will be like the turtle, not as fast as the hare, but fast enough to beat a hare who doesn’t seem to know where he is going. It is often said that good guys never win. I don’t claim to always be among the good guys, but I don’t think they should not be thought of as big losers. .

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      1. Turtles, like you husband and I, seem to lack the speed needed to keep up in this world, but we have other ways of getting things done.

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      3. I once convinced the last ex-girlfriend I had that box turtles were venomous.
        No, she wasn’t stupid.
        No, that’s not the reason she became an ex-girlfriend.

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  11. Vignette of the day: rode by one of the high schools. Met a man with a grocery bag in one hand and a golden retriever on a lash in the other. The dog was picking up discarded plastic bottles and aluminum cans and bring them to the man, who dropped them in his bag.

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  12. I don’t think that I’m unbeatable anymore. Maybe that is just a symptom of age.

    I used to have an invincibly rosy-eyed outlook. In 1977, my St Olaf English professor, Dr. Richard Buckstead, (anyone else remember him?) picked up on it immediately and accused me of seeing the world through rose-colored glasses. He predicted that someday I would rue my lack of a balanced perspective. Due to the number of heartbreaks and serious disappointments between 1977 and the present year, it would now be difficult to beat me at my ingrown cynicism (darker than ingrown narcissism). I refuse to brag about that aspect of my personality. I work toward optimism on a daily basis, but it doesn’t come naturally anymore – I have to really make a conscientious effort to remain positive. I’m not proud of it, but there it is.

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    2. Let us, Krista, propose that there are four kinds of people: 1) the naive optimist, 2) that person after several heartbreaks, 3) the natural cynic, 4) that person after learning that people are often nicer than she expected.

      Which would you be?

      Not the naive optimist, for she makes too many errors, although she is likable and positive. It is hard to watch a person who keeps stepping on rakes or falling in love with cads.

      Not the natural cynic, for while she might be right about her harsh judgments of people she won’t be right all the time. And frankly, cynics can be downers. On your next air flight to New Zealand, you don’t want a cynic in the seat next to yours.

      And you wouldn’t choose to be the educated cynic, although she would be better company. She’ll never overcome her natural tendency to distrust people, expecting them to behave badly.

      No . . . I think I and you and most baboons would want to be that second type, the sunny soul who has been roughed up and educated by life. For a partner or best friend or just a blogging friend, she is the one who is good to be with. She has a good heart but is nobody’s fool. She’s sure the one I would prefer to spend time with.

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      1. I’m definitely not a natural cynic, but the Baboons are doing a good job of teaching me that people are often nicer than I expected. I hope I’m the second type.

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    3. I know I’ve said it but, again, my personal definition of a cynic is ‘a realistic optimist.’ You just keep putting out that hope for better and you just keep getting constantly disappointed.

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  13. I am told I can see the the positive, and the humor, in any situation. There are some situations where it takes a while longer than others, but it has served me well. I’m also way ahead on being able to find uses for seemingly useless things… that latent utility, perhaps, from the glossary.

    I can also talk my way out of a paper bag. Hmmm, that doesn’t sound quite right…

    Wow – WOT now: I just googled that phrase and found Wiktionary, a Wiki-based open content dictionary, which tells me that “There is an idiom “unable to find one’s way out of a paper bag”, where “find” can be replaced with “organise”, “navigate”, “negotiate”, “manage”, “fight, “punch”, “dance” and possibly others.
    They didn’t mention “talk”, though. Just thought you’d all like to know.

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    1. He coached the “wrong” team for you, I think, but Bud Grant (ex Vikings coach) is famous for insisting that of all possible athletic abilities a player might have, durability is the single most important.

      Durability counts for a great deal.

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  15. Hello, all. I have unchallenged resilience and can do more in a day and on less sleep than anyone I know. I’m getting a little tired of and from this extraordinary capability, though.

    What I’m not unbeatable at is unfortunately running. I qualified for Boston Marathon by a minute in May but didn’t make the cut to run the race, since registration was by score rather than first come first serve. Very disappointing after a lot of tough training squeezed into the over scheduled days mentioned above.

    Hello, all! Dale, I enjoyed the post. Off to read the news article you shared…

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    1. If I thought it would be any fun at all, I would be willing to challenge you on that, but I can’t see a lick of enjoyment in it for either of us.

      So sorry to hear about the Marathon disappointment. My next door neighbor trains and runs in Grandma’s Marathon every year- marathonning is a big commitment.

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    2. My brother ran in the Boston Marathon. I think he was able to qualify because he can often win in his age group which is 60 and over. He also does a lot of training.

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  16. It’s amazing that these researchers apparently kept this knowledge to themselves while they checked and rechecked their findings! They are among the best at secret keeping!

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  17. For some reason this brings to mind a passage from Ian McEwan’s Atonement – this is just after the 13-year-old protagonist, Briony, has made an unsuccessful attempt at writing and staging a play, and is taking out her frustrations by attacking the nettles in the garden:

    It is hard to slash at nettles for very long without a story imposing itself, and Briony was soon absorbed and grimly content, even though she appeared to the world like a girl in the grip of a terrible mood. She had found a slender hazel branch and stripped it clean. There was work to do, and she set about it…The slender tip of the switch made a two-toned sound as it sliced the air. No more! she made it say. Enough! Take that! Soon, it was the action itself that absorbed her, and the newspaper report which she revised to the rhythm of her swipes. No one in the world could do this better than Briony Tallis who would be representing her country next year at the Berlin Olympics and was certain to win the gold. People studied her closely and marveled at her technique, her preference for bare feet because it improved her balance – so important in this demanding sport – with every toe playing its part, the manner in which she led with the wrist and snapped the hand round only at the end of her stroke, the way she distributed her weight and used the rotation in her hips to gain extra power, her distinctive habit of extending the fingers of her free hand – no one came near her. Self-taught, the youngest daughter of a senior civil servant. Look at the concentration in her face, judging the angle, never fudging a shot, taking each nettle with inhuman precision. To reach this level required a lifetime’s dedication. And how close she had come to wasting that life as a playwright!

    I wish I knew where that kind of swagger goes when you grow up – I’d like to go retrieve some of it.

    I do like the idea of a Baboon Olympics – Olympic organizing, Olympic Klondike Solitaire, Olympic caramel roll baking, Olympic shoestring set construction, Olympic shortcoming-workarounds, Olympic latent utility identification, Olympic sleep deprivation….we are an unconventionally talented bunch.

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    1. I like “unconventionally talented.” If there’s only one entrant in each Olympic event, we’d all be gold medal winners!

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    3. I could be the the champion of disorganization. It wouldn’t be as dramatic as the championship effort that Linda quoted from the McEwan book. I would have a lot of failed attempts at getting organized to present. There would be a very impressive group of odd attempts to create some type of a note taking system that I thought would allow me to collect information in an orderly manner which always failed very soon after they were invented.

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    1. Linda, you’re so organized. How do you do it? Happy birthday TGiTH, or as they’d say in Danish: Tillykke med fødseldagen!

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