Category Archives: Uncategorized

Time Stands Still

Today’s post comes from perennial sophomore Bubby Spamden, who has been held back in his grade at Wendell Wilkie High School every year since 1983.

Public domain image, royalty free stock photo from www.public-domain-image.com

Hey, Mr. C.,

Well, school is about to begin again and I’m going to be a sophomore for, like, the 30th time!

Some people tell me I should move on, but when I ask them what part of their life they remember best, it usually turns out to be those crazy high school years. A lot of folks say they wish they could do it all over again, but everybody knows you can’t go back.

So I’m trying to find out if you can just refuse to leave.

Sometimes people ask if I’m bothered to be so much older than my classmates, and the answer is “No!” The other kids treat me like I’m Yoda, which is great! Every now and then I’ll pull someone aside and say something like “Very powerful with this one the Force is.” They eat that stuff up. In fact, there’s gaggle of freshmen following me around right now. They’re hoping I’ll teach them to levitate, but when stuff like that comes up I try to stay enigmatic. You’ve got to keep people guessing.

Especially when you don’t really know how to levitate. But I can throw around a five dollar word like “enigmatic.” That comes in handy. People are really easy to impress these days.

One thing that I’m sure works in my favor is standardized testing. Now that the scores the school puts up are such a big dang deal, the principal is kind of grateful to have someone around who knows the exams backwards and forwards. I’m really, really good at filling in those multiple-choice ovals, and I make sure everybody stays serious at test time!

You’re probably wondering how somebody who is so good at test-taking still manages to be kept back year after year. Here’s the deal – I take lots of days off. About two months all told, every year. A lot of times I only put in a three day week. I can get away with it pretty easy. It’s not my fault the administration cut Truancy Officers so they’d have enough money to serve fresh vegetables at lunch.

Me being a high school sophomore pretty much forever is kind of like the Jeff Bezos-funded 10,000 Year Clock, which is being built right now inside a mountain in Texas. People laugh about it but I think the idea is super cool! These clockmakers really take the long view. I heard from somebody that the movement is so slow, it ticks one year and tocks the next. And it gets its energy from temperature changes and the in-and-out movement of visitors who come to hear its chimes.

That’s just like me – I’m super relaxed and I never get upset, but every now and then I’ll put on a bit of a show just to remind people I’m still here. For the most part, people think I’m charming. Another 30 years and the girls will start to think I’m cute again. One thing for sure – I’ll be at Wilkie a long, long time. Probably not 10,000 years, but who knows? They say “time flies when you’re having fun,” but I’m having a blast, and time is going very, very slowly.

Your Pal,
Bubby

I do think of Bubby as living a life that is a work of art with an extended time horizon. He occasionally writes to me about various schemes that he hopes will support him “when he grows up”, but we both know being a Sophomore at Wendell Wilkie High is (and will always be) his real job.

Name a place you’ve been that you would be happy to never leave.

Ask Dr. Babooner

Dear Dr. Babooner,

Ann_Landers baboon 2 copy

I had some big plans to spend the day with an important out-of-town visitor a few weeks from now. It’s not romantic – we are in the same line of work (country-running) and I think of him as someone who understands the unique challenges of the business. I don’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings, so let’s call him “Barack Obama”. I wouldn’t say I have much to learn from him or that we’re equals, exactly. I just want to hang out with someone who “gets it”, if you know what I mean. While we are both powerful in our own way, one of us is going to keep his job a lot longer than the other (hint: it’s not him).

Anyway, we traded messages and I thought the meeting was set. Then out of the blue I get a call saying “Barack Obama” is canceling because we don’t have much to talk about! While I agree we aren’t the closest of friends, I’m shocked and hurt to be treated this way. After all, I’m pretty important. People who cross me have a habit of winding up dead. I’m not admitting anything, I’m just saying that nobody cancels a meeting with me! It’s a new, and not very pleasant, sensation. Now that I’ve been embarrassed by this sudden change, I feel like we really DO have a lot to talk about.

There are several reasons this happened. Mostly, he’s upset because I’m friendly towards two people he’s angry with.

Isn’t that a little childish?

One of the guys “Barack Obama” is ticked at let some secrets slip about some snooping and other clandestine things that aren’t too flattering. That’s unfortunate, but no one is arguing that the charges are lies, so I don’t see where “Barack Obama” has the standing to be angry. I tend to think honesty is the best policy. For other people, anyway.

The second guy is also a presidential-type country-runner who got himself into a bad situation and is dealing with it by being violent and merciless on the upper end of the evil-villian scale of bloodthirsty retribution. Again, I don’t condone this sort of behavior unless I wind up having to do it myself, which I could totally see happening someday.

I’m not saying that these are the best guys in the world. In fact, one of them might be the worst. But is it ever right to punish someone for their friendly and open-minded attitude towards other people?

Uncertainly,
Vlad

I told “Vlad” that Junior High School never really ends. Folks often pressure others to ostracize a person because of the way that person looks or the clothes they wear or the things they believe or the laws they break of the innocents they murder.

I commended Vlad for not caving in, and told him he’d eventually get over missing his meeting with “Barack Obama”. And even though the relationships he’s protecting are not particularly important to him, it’s the principle that matters. You can’t let someone else push you around because they don’t like your not-really-my-friends. If you let that happen, you could someday wind up with no one who is close, kind of like a tyrant or a secret agent, or both.

But that’s just one opinion. What do YOU think, Dr. Babooner?

Larger Than Life

Today’s post comes from Bart, the bear who found a smart phone in the woods.

He promises to sit VERY still.
He promises to sit VERY still.

Yo, Bart here.

I know they call these the “dog days” of summer, but as a bear I can tell you that things are pretty darn quiet for us, too. I could nap all day! I guess Al Roker gets the same feeling sometimes. Sure, I know who Al Roker is. You think I was born in a barn?

When I’m not napping I waste hours and hours wandering around the internet. Pretty amazing how the time just melts away, but at least I’m not getting into trouble at campsites. I hear when the game wardens trap you or they shoot you with one of those tranquilizer darts, the first thing they do is take away your phone. Bummer.

Anyway, I got really excited when I found this video and the article that goes with it.

A huge bear was captured and released, and some guy who makes things out of concrete saw the video and wants to do a statue of him. But the bear is already gone, so he wrote to the naturalists to get the measurements so he could get the proportions right.

It would be awesome to have an enormous statue made of me, using concrete or anything! So here’s the deal – I’ll pose for anyone who wants to do a bear sculpture. The only conditions are:

  • No tickling
  • All the berries I can eat
  • My name goes on the plaque
  • I get to go home when it’s done

Deal? Honest, it’s kind of quiet now, and I just sit around all day anyway! Just remember, bear season hasn’t started yet.

Your pal,
Bart

What does the inscription say on the statue of you?

Hobby Farm

Today’s post comes from disgraced former journalist Bud Buck.

People often ask me to explain how, as a one-time newsboy poster child and respected radio anchor, I became a disgraced former journalist. I always tell them if they’ll simply sweeten my palm with a $20, the story is theirs. Sometimes it works.

Newsboy

The short version is this – it became so difficult to manage all the true information that was in the world, as a self defense mechanism I started to make things up. It worked for a while and I began to see my job as a form of self-expression. It didn’t hurt to lie so much when I remembered that it really was all about me!

And now the rickety tower that was once the institution of American journalism is approaching total collapse with word that a famous newspaper with a storied tradition will be purchased by a very rich guy who needs a new toy to play with. And yes, I just ended a sentence with a preposition. That’s how dead good writing is! Deal with it!

Jeff Bezos, the CEO of Amazon, bought the Washington Post for 250 million dollars. It’s not a takeover by Amazon because Bezos, one of the world’s wealthiest men, is buying it as an individual.

And yes, he got free shipping!

Bezos is famous for focusing on “the customer experience.” I can only guess that his experience as a Washington Post buyer was satisfactory, though I guess I’ll have to wait for the customer review to be certain. But one thing you won’t have to wait for is the pundit review. People who write opinions for a living have fallen on this story like a family of bears on the last picnic basket in the woods. They are tearing it apart because it features all the things they love – journalism, money, and … well, that’s about it.

My opinion hardly matters in all this, except to me. And that’s the point! This is the next logical step in the total disintegration of communications. Every person is now his or her own media empire. I suspect Jeff Bezos bought the Washington Post because he didn’t have time to start his own blog. Look for someone richer to step up soon to buy The New York Times, and someone wealthier still to snap up CBS, NBC and finally Trail Baboon. Then it’s a total free-for-all!

Someday soon, when every news source is a vanity project beholden to a single personality, we will all be so busy filtering and interpreting information we won’t have time to actually know anything. And when that day comes, I won’t waste your time with an “I told you so.”

Instead, I’ll say “Welcome to my world.”

This is Bud Buck!

Who do you trust?

Deep In The Weeds

Speaking of working steadily at a task that feels endless (as we were yesterday), I have been slowly making my way around the yard hand-weeding some planting beds that have been allowed to go to seed.

The original plan was to keep these areas heavily mulched and carefully tended to provide some space where flowers, ornamental grasses, trees and bushes could thrive. And at first, that’s how it worked. But over time the mulch dissolved (as expected) and while I was looking the other way, the beds have filled in with misshapen, spiky intruders from Mars.

I could go after the invaders with a noxious chemical cocktail, but that’s a solution for cowards. I need to confront the weeds personally, face to frond. Besides, there is always a risk that any foliage killer I spray on unwanted greenery will drift off and murder the more upstanding flora I’m trying to protect. I suppose it’s like keeping a loaded gun in the house. With very little effort you can do more damage than the threat you armed yourself against at the beginning.

These photos show you the scope of the task.

My approach is simple and brutal. I drop to my knees and claw at the Earth with a three pronged hook held in my right hand. As the soil is loosened I grab the weed with my left hand and toss it into a bucket. Then repeat, repeat, repeat. If it sounds “old school”, you’re right. This is basically the technique our prehistoric ancestors used to spiff things up around the entrances to their caves. I flung myself at the problem for several hours straight on Saturday, all the while wondering what possible good could come of it.

In the sandy areas, scurrying ants reproached me for destroying their cities. I tried to explain that I was down here with them because I was withholding my support from Monsanto, but the ants were too busy running in panic to pay me much mind.

I continued to dig. After an hour, I found it very difficult to stand up straight. After two hours, I had a sense that if I suddenly keeled over, the weeds could reclaim everything before I was cold.
Weeding must be the opposite of teaching. You can see immediate results, but you can be pretty certain your work will have absolutely no effect at all on the future.

To which pointless chore have you given too much of your time?

1,000 Bottles of Beer

This is post number 1,000 on Trail Baboon, all written by me or as guest entries by various baboons.

I’m exhausted, and proud. The total overall number is a convenient landmark because all I have to do is count the guest posts to know that TB is an amazing 16.4% reader-written.

beerwall

That’s better than the New York Times, by far.

It didn’t seem very long ago that we observed reaching the landmark of post number 500. That was an achievement, but this is better. I would almost say it’s exactly twice as good.

And so through stubbornness, determination, or simply as a result of habitual behavior and lacking the creativity to do anything different, we have moved into 4-digit territory, post-wise. And one of the things that sets blogging apart from books or a pile of paper newspapers is that all the writing we’ve done remains online for people to stumble across as if it had just appeared – fresh and new to each set of eyes that beholds it for the first time as long as they don’t look at the date or read any of the obsolete references included in the text.

That’s a form of immortality, isn’t it? Or longevity, at least?

And taken together, one could argue that we’ve collaborated to write a very long book that is “scattered and unfocused in subject and style, featuring a variety of occasionally compelling and sometimes incomplete characters drawn with varying degrees of skill.”

I put that line in quotes because I’m pretty sure someone’s actual book has been reviewed that way.

If you measure success in terms of readership, as opposed to simply counting raw numbers of posts, you would have to say Trail Baboon is consistent but certainly not growing.
Here’s a screen shot of our monthly readership statistics since January, 2011. We appear to get between 60 and 90 visitors a day, with each reader refreshing the page 4 to 7 times.
That adds up and it starts to look like a lot when you view it on a monthly basis, but in truth our community is rather small. But loyal!

Remarkably, our total numbers for the month of July 2011 and July 2013 were almost exactly the same though two years apart – 13,096 vs. 13,094.

Screen Shot 2013-08-03 at 8.47.16 AM

At any rate, congratulations, Baboons. Our achievement puts me in mind of a classic anthem sung by high-achievers throughout time:

One Thousand Bottles of Beer On The Wall,
One Thousand Bottles of Beer!
Take One Down, Pass it Around.
Nine Hundred Ninety Nine Bottles of Beer on The Wall.

Nine Hundred Ninety Nine Bottles of Beer on the Wall,
Nine Hundred Ninety Nine Bottles of Beer!
Take one down …

How do you pace yourself to reach a distant goal?

A Sense of Achievement

Today’s post comes from Congressman Loomis Beechly, representing all the water surface area in the State of Minnesota.

beechly-speech

Greetings Constituents!

As your elected Representative, I wanted to take a moment before my Summer Break begins to thank each one of you for the calls you’ve made and the mail you’ve ee’d about the work of our 113th Congress! I agree with all of you on everything you said, and every single concern you expressed is my number one priority! And I know that many of my colleagues in the House feel exactly the same way about all their constituents too.

In the end, politics is pretty simple. We just want to be loved. And how do you show someone you love them? You listen, and do what you’re told, of course!

I’m not using that as an excuse, but it does help explain why we in Congress are currently having a hard time getting things done. Face it – you’re confusing!

I’m not saying it’s your fault, because that would get me in even more trouble. But maybe you should look at this in a different way. Right now, with multi-tasking being All The Rage, we have to ask ourselves if we in Congress are setting a good example for the busy people of this great nation.

So many Americans are trying to squeeze more productivity out of each and every minute, you can’t blame them for feeling overwhelmed and under appreciated! There is simply too much to do, and no one is speaking against the urge to do even more. Why? Because no one has that kind of time! And as long as productivity stays high, there’s no reason for employers to even consider hiring the laid-off millions who are exhausting themselves daily in a fruitless search for work.

That’s where we, your elected Representatives, come to the rescue.

As leaders, our task right now is to lead the American workforce towards acceptance of a bigger and better standard of idleness. We are aggressively doing nothing in excellent style while eating great food and wearing nice clothes. And we’re doing it for an unselfish reason – to show you what real recreational non-productivity looks like. When I’m home in my district, I model this by fishing all day. Here in Washington, I have to show it by talking endlessly about nothing in particular and reaching no compromises of any kind. It’s like fishing, but without the catch. I just release, constantly.

Only by doing this can I make it safe for you to begin to relax and to stop multi-tasking. Because no matter how lazy and worthless you become, you can be certain that your existence is still not as pointless as that of your Congressman.

So the next time some sourpuss points out that the House has accomplished practically nothing this session, I hope you’ll do what I would do – respond with a smile, a nod, a word of gratitude, and a nap.

Your Congressman,
Loomis Beechly

How productive are you?

Lousy Little Leaker

Although I never quite made it to the Bradley Manning level, I’ve been a leaker most of my life for all the wrong reasons. It’s not that I believe in truth or justice or transparency – I just want a little attention. That’s why, one night at the dinner table when I was eleven years old, I cagily revealed to my older brother that he was going to find a Matchbox Car in his birthday haul the next day, but I was not going to tell him which one in the set he was going to receive.

Jaguar

This, I thought, would give me supreme power over him.

Naturally, my mother was outraged that I had betrayed her confidence. I was sent to my room immediately, forced to skip desert.

At the time, I didn’t quite understand the outrage. We each had accumulated a ton of the tiny metal cars, so getting another one was not that big a deal. Which model though? That was the key (as any collector would understand), and I was keeping that significant detail to myself. He would be tormented to have to spend the night knowing there was a new vehicle in his stable and wondering which one it was, praying and hoping it would be the Jaguar XKE when I knew full well it was the Ford Galaxie Police Cruiser. Not only would he spend the night in agony, his morning would be poisoned by disappointment.

Police_cruiser

No actual harm done. What’s the problem?

But in my mother’s mind, I had spoiled her surprise, and I played Edward Snowden to her Lindsey Graham. If she’d had access to the worst gateway lounge in a Russian airport, she would have marooned me there forever, or at least until I apologized to everyone in our family minus the dog.

Which was odd, considering that a few months later the dog was the one who would eventually wind up with that Matchbox Car firmly in his mouth – an unsatisfying substitute for a bone on a dreary, nothing-happening day.

When have you spilled a big secret?

Needy Pet

Today’s post comes from perennial sophomore Bubby Spamden, still of Wendell Wilkie High School.

Hey Mr. C,

My summer has been really awful because I still don’t have a real job and all the rain we had in the spring led to a huge crop of mosquitoes AND weeds, and since I’m not doing anything during the day anyway my mom told me I have to go clean out the garden while she’s at work.

Bummer. I’m getting chewed to bits!

I complained to my dad but he said I should take the energy I put into whining and use it to do something productive, even if I don’t get paid for it. When I said “Like What?” he surprised me by saying “Like starting a blog!”

I didn’t even know he knew what a blog was! But since he said I should do it I’m starting to think maybe he’s got a point. I mean, how hard could it be? All you do is sit down and write down the thoughts that come into your head, right? I mean, it doesn’t have to be good or planned out in any way – it’s just a blog. But if you’re an undiscovered genius (like me) then maybe a gazillion people will start to read it and comment on it, and then you’ll become a superstar and a millionaire and you’ve got it made because as a blogger you don’t have to learn anything at all, ever! You just have to spend a little time in front of a screen every day being you … which is really the only thing I’m good at, anyway.

So the more I thought about it, the more excited I got about my own blog. In fact, I got so excited I actually went to look at YOUR blog, and wow, was I surprised!

Even though it takes no effort at all to write a blog, you’ve set it up so you do less than nothing! And Mr. Boozenporn said that less than nothing is an impossible value that one day he subbed for Ms. Pye in math class. He stuck to that story until Destiny Carmichael pointed out that there are negative numbers, which is something he forgot about.

Anyway, it’s so cool that you have other people writing it for you! And based on what I picked up from reading what Anna, Jim, tim, Renee, Jacque, Steve, Joanne, Sherrilee, Barbara, Edith and Donna were saying, you didn’t pay them a thing. Which is really too bad, because they’re good writers!

How do you get away with that? Isn’t it illegal? And isn’t it wrong to have your name up there on the masthead saying “… by Dale Connelly” when it really isn’t by you at all and you don’t even tell people who the real author is until the very first line after they open the post and look at it? I’d be kind of ashamed, and you know I’m hard to embarrass! I’m thinking that makes you kind of lazy, and unethical, which is really exciting because that’s just what my dad called me when I got caught cheating on homework last year, which just proves that blogging is perfect for me! I can’t wait to get started!

Just one question. Is there a limit on the number of exclamation points you get to use? I hope not!

Your pal,
Bubby

goldfish

I told Bubby there is nothing unethical about letting other people contribute posts for a blog, and there is also nothing to the popular myth that anybody can get rich and famous by writing one. Less than nothing, actually. I’m convinced the blog millionaires you read about are invented characters. Truth telling is not a very strong online value. In reality, having a blog is an obligation – like having a dog or a cat. You can get other people to take care of it every now and then, but regardless of who is doing the chores it needs attention every day. Or every other day, if it’s more like a hamster or a rat. And maybe every third day if it’s a goldfish. But if you’re less attentive than that, don’t be surprised if one day you go to write something for your blog and you find it floating upside down.

Write an apology to a pet you neglected.

The Twinkie Conundrum

Just when you thought you had adjusted to life without Twinkies, they’re back!

ENTERTAINMENT FOOD FUN JUNK SWEET CYLINDRICAL ELONGATED BAKED GOOD KIDS

And what’s more, they no longer come with the simple sugar = pleasure / fat = punishment choice you had to make in the old days. Now each Twinkies-related decision will be a statement revealing your personal theory about management, bankruptcy, and the role of organized labor in today’s economy.

Hostess went out of business after a labor dispute with the people who made the snack cakes. It was a management decision to scuttle the company rather than give in to what corporate leaders saw as unreasonable demands by an organized workforce.

This brought out harsh criticism from union-bashers. One tweeting critic decried the fact that bakery workers who had been making the Twinkies had pensions. How sweet would a lavish retirement be, knowing you got there by pushing creme filling into spongy cake for 45 years?

But never fear that buying your next Twink will cushion the twilight years of an undeserving wastrel. After going through bankruptcy, the Hostess brands were sold to a new owner, and presto! The new company has no labor union to deal with and Twinkies are already tantalizing the snack-loving shoppers at Wal-Mart.

What will come of this? The whole snack cake ethos was about happiness – thus goofy names like Ho-Ho’s and Ding Dongs. Will you now have to cross a picket line to buy a Zinger?

And union members aren’t the only ones who are bound to be sore. What about the hoarders who spent recklessly to stockpile huge backlogs in advance of the Twinkie apocalypse? Is there still a chance for their dream of using packaged desserts as currency, or have they been viciously undercut? Or will it turn out that their Strategic Snack Cake Reserves will prove to be our only source of genuine, un-tarnished Twinkies, now and forever?

I’m afraid all the potent political and economic issues swirling around the new Twinkies will make it impossible for me to eat one without getting a stomachache. Unlike the old days, when I didn’t get a stomachache until I opened the fifth package.

What food are you unable to eat?