Today is the anniversary of the dedication of the main branch of the New York Public Library, a landmark which was officially opened on May 23, 1911. This is the iconic library building on 5th Avenue, with an entrance guarded by two stone lions (Patience and Fortitude) and a grand reading room that is a wonder to behold.
“Photo by DAVID ILIFF. License: CC-BY-SA 3.0”
The room is 77 feet wide and 295 feet long – longer than a Boeing 747 and able to take people more places. It is a shrine to knowledge, a temple of learning, and is lined with thousands of books – exactly the type of place where it would be impossible for me to read a book.
As a child, teenager and even as an adult, I am almost unengrossable. Oh, I love to read, but no matter what I’m doing, my head keeps lifting up to gaze around the room. It takes me twice as long as most people to read a book because of all the necessary daydreaming that has to happen at the end of chapters, after significant paragraphs, and often in between words.
The New York Public Library is magnificent. But if you’re building a reading room, give me something with the grandeur removed – a shabby closet, some pillows and a desk lamp.
That’s not just my opinion. A lot of people say that. The city is also very welcoming and hospitable, which is not a commonly held view among humans, but I think millions of other creatures would agree.
And by “other creatures” I mean rodents, cockroaches, ants, flies, bees, bedbugs and pigeons.
By all accounts these are some of the primary non-human beasts that thrive in the urban jungle, and New Yorkers like to talk about what they can do to keep their uninvited house guests under control.
And yet there is also an air of acceptance. If you live in New York City this assortment of two, four, six and eight legged strangers will share it with you, whether you want to share it with them or not. Which may come as a surprise to the owner of the city’s highest priced (and still unbuilt) piece of residential real estate.
What do you do when you see the first cockroach skitter across the kitchen floor in your 90 million dollar sky palace? Even if the creature is dressed for dinner in top hat, white tie and tails, the sight of it gives one pause. And if the intruder happens to be a rodent, the sight of it gives one paws – “How much money would it take to be totally alone?”
The feature I love most is that we talk it up and then tell people not to look. Properly paying attention to an eclipse requires discipline. In our media-saturated, spectacle hungry world, that doesn’t happen very often.
Sunday evening’s annular eclipse will present an obscured sun with a bright “ring of fire” around the outside edge for those in the prime viewing area. The moon is a bit distant from the earth right now (wasn’t it just SUPER?) so its disc won’t cover the sun completely.
For we Minnesotans, there’s a chance we’ll get a view of a partially covered sun at sunset. This nifty animation from NASA shows how the moon shadow will cross the earth from West to East, with the “ring of fire” viewing area represented by the startling red dot that makes a quick entrance at daybreak over Asia, lingers longest just south of the Aleutians, and zooms eastward at sunset over the USA. I expect to see plenty of cool photos Monday morning.
Here in the upper midwest I think that means we’ll get a Sunday sunset missing a chunk, assuming the clouds let us see it. But remember, don’t look! Use the camera obscura technique, projecting the image on a viewable surface. To help you remember not to look, here’s a little warning poem.
Don’t look directly at the sun
Whilst it becomes eclipsed
A pinhole camera shows it
as a backwards crescent, flipsed.
If you don’t have the time or interest to make a pinhole camera, find a leafy tree placed between a low western horizon and a blank wall. Apparently spaces between leaves work effectively as pinhole cameras, casting lots of tiny eclipse images. You might get something like this.
Images of the sun during a solar eclipse through the leaves of a tree. October 3, 2005, St Juliens, Malta
Or we could just get a cloudy western sky and a gloomy sunset. Don’t get your hopes up, but don’t get your eyeballs fried. Seriously. Avoid looking directly at it.
Today’s post comes directly from everyone’s favorite PDA (Personal Downside Anticipator), Bathtub Safety Officer Rafferty.
Egads! Another horrifying science story!
Last time I wrote to you, it was about the deeply troubling exploration of Lake Vostok – a line of scientific inquiry being conducted by Russian geniuses without any allowance of the dangerous precedents set in countless science fiction and horror movies!
Now scientists are making progress in an area where their abilities and imagination are sorely needed, doing work that will someday yield great benefits for millions of deserving paralyzed individuals and through them, all mankind, by making it possible for injured people to operate artificial appendages with their brains.
But! Once again science has failed to allow for what I call the EGF – the Evil Genius Factor.
There is no question that the usual assortment of black-hearted lab rats will appropriate any technology used to create a mind-controlled robot arm, and will turn its power towards the dark side.
No Question! One need look no further than a Spider Man nemesis, Doctor Octopus! Do I want powerful hydraulic arms controlled by my thoughts? If you think the answer could possibly be ‘no’, I will pick you up by the heels with my metallic fingers and shake you like a Homer Hanky.
Science will create it, industry will provide it, and villains will put it to work!
In fact, thought controlled appliances of every kind are on the way and will soon be ubiquitous, multiplying just like the wireless devices we thought were so nifty just ten years ago! Even you Baboons, based on your impulsive conversation yesterday about coffee shops, would certainly fall for the thought-triggered Mr. Coffee drip-pot now being developed in a secret underground lab outside Seattle. Every time java crosses your mind, this infernal brewt will produce another $3 drink and charge it to your account. How long will it take to put you in the poor house once that machine hits the market?
I don’t need proof. I know this will happen! The question is – once your brain is wired like a garage door opener, how much trouble would it be to reverse the circuit and operate YOU like a model airplane?
It’s too bad that Evil Geniuses have to ruin something good for all of us once again, but When I think about all the different ways this amazing technology can be misused, I shudder. And what if your robotic arm also responds to your dreams? You know which ones I mean – the truly weird ones! Who will be responsible for the mayhem that rises out of that connection?
Sorry, paralyzed people. Thought controlled robotic arms must be stopped!
Your paranoid friend,
Bathtub Safety Officer Rafferty
BSO Rafferty has a point, but just a minor one. I can’t help but think this technology will do a lot of good -more than the evil he imagines.
Today’s post comes from idea man and deal maker Spin Williams.
Great news on the wires today! Researchers started to wonder about sleepwalking. Who knows why? Lying awake, I guess. But they decided to ask people if they’ve ever sleepwalked, and the results were a surprise.
Almost one third of those responding said they had! That’s amazing. How did they know? I thought the whole point of sleepwalking was lack of awareness at the time and a total absence of recollection afterwards.
If you go for a moonlight stroll and remember it, that’s just walking!
And they neglected to ask if any of the 16,000 people they called were sleepwalking AT THAT MOMENT! That’s the FIRST question I’d ask, but then I’m not a scientist. So let’s assume the REAL number of sleepwalkers is MUCH larger than this survey indicates. How much larger could it be? I don’t know! But then, I’m not very alert right now. I think my brain is only half switched on. I might be sleep WRITING.
Egads! What if EVERYBODY sleepwalks! And if they do, what if EVERYBODY has the potential to sleep WORK? And I’m not talking about the poor minimum wage earner who takes on three jobs to feed the family and can hardly keep his eyes open while manning the cash register at your local convenience store. I’m talking about the person who THINKS he only has TWO jobs, but there’s a THIRD he doesn’t know about.
At ALL!
Asleep On the Job
I’m a business man, so I find this VERY exciting. If we could follow the Chinese example and house our workers in dormitories attached to the plant, we would have a whole zombie workforce waiting around to power a shadow economy. Sleepworkers could be trained to march to their posts when they roll out of bed, their eyes as vacant as the Bride of Frankenstien’s. And because they don’t remember that they’re putting in the hours, you don’t have to pay them. Not a thing! In fact, it would break the law to pay them, because paying them would call attention to their sleep WORK job, which would wake them up to the idea that they’re being used. And you should NEVER wake up a sleepwalker!
Sleepworkers could do great things for us, especially in highly sensitive defense-related industries where secrecy is important. If your sleepworkers don’t even know they’re at the plant, they can’t lift any documents to send to Wikileaks. And because each is in his or her own world, they won’t fraternize or gossip or plot to overthrow management.
We might just get rid of day jobs all together. Then we would work all night, not remember a thing in the morning, and play all day.
During our waking hours, we’d be totally free to do what we like, but too fatigued to get into too much trouble. And everyone would have a dream job!
Congressman Loomis Beechly, who represents Minnesota’s 9th congressional district (all the water surface area in the state), has been forced to communicate with his constituents on a topic he finds uncomfortable.
Congressman Beechly believes in Floater ID
My Dear 9th Districters,
Some have asked, in light of President Obama’s recent evolution on gay marriage, where I stand on the issue. For years now, my position has been crystal clear – I’d rather not talk about it.
My constituents who support marriage rights for everyone have interpreted that policy as a cowardly attempt to dodge the issue. Those who oppose gay marriage, however, have seen my position as an attempt to dodge the issue that is also cowardly.
In this way I have brought together people who agree on very little else! How appropriate for a Congressman who represents only water surface area to be such a bridge builder!
But now radicals on both sides of the issue want to blow my bridge up by forcing me to choose! Fine. So be it.
Most of the living creatures in my district are, as you know, fish. Walleye don’t get married, and don’t seem to want to get married. Frankly, I don’t think they even know who the fathers or mothers are of all the fish they produce – it’s really wanton and free under the lake surface with all the things they do. The spawning environment is just like downtown on a Saturday night – anything that can happen probably will. Some parents guard their offspring. Some just swim away. Some play both mother and father. And although I don’t think I have any living in my district, let me just say you can’t apply any of these Constitutional Marriage Amendments to seahorses. They simply won’t have it. Fish sexual identity is just so variable, I don’t think any one set of rules can apply down there. And by “down there” I mean underwater. AND I also mean “down there.”
People seem to need guidelines that they can use to beat each other with, but I don’t want to alienate my most numerous constituents, even though they can’t vote. So I am going to declare myself to be predominantly aquatic on issues of affectional relationships.
Make of that what you will. Some will say that identifies me as a free thinker. Others will say I am endorsing natural law. But one thing I know – there are fish in the Bible, lots of them. Mostly they’re just being pulled out of the water and eaten by disciples and such, but I assure you that what they’re doing under the surface today they were also doing back then, so my position is kind of scriptural, if you need it to have that sort of connection.
I hope this clears things up enough so that we never have to talk about it again. Fish sex is, after all, something that is at its very best when it’s submerged.
Your Congressman,
Loomis Beechly
What are your plans for this weekend’s fishing opener?
I run a business that many people think is so important, it alone makes the difference between a community being top tier or second-rate. If my company were to move, a lot of people in the town where I sell my product would feel their quality of life and their standing in the world had been diminished somehow.
This is a very good field to be in.
In fact, this business operates on a field. And the field is surrounded by a building that can hold lots and lots of people. The building needs to be a landmark and a showplace, instantly recognizable to folks everywhere. It has to be an attraction because it is a really a machine that removes money from the pockets of people who come sit in it. And they cheer while it’s happening. They get a little drunk, a little hoarse, and when they leave their wallets are virtually empty. Yet for the most part, they’re kind of happy. As you can imagine, that’s a very sophisticated and expensive sort of building to construct.
I already rent a building that kind of does this magical work, but it’s old and worn and it doesn’t remove as much money from the pockets as I’d like to have. Need to have, I mean. Really, really need to have.
That’s what I’ve asked and asked and asked the community to help me build a newer, more efficient kind of money-sucking building. Or else. Well, it’s not really, definitely “or else”, but possibly “or else”. I don’t want to make threats, but if people in another town built me the kind of cash-hoovering structure I want, I’d pick up and go there because that would make it the sort of building that removes money not only from the pockets of people who are sitting in it, but also from people who aren’t sitting in it and never have any intention of going there, ever.
More magic!
I’m a good businessman and pretty up front about what I’m doing. And yet I am not getting much love and very little satisfaction from the people whose money I covet. Why not?
Sincerely,
Lone Wilf
I told Lone Wilf that there is no accounting for public tastes, but a person who hopes to receive large amounts of money, gratitude and love from millions of strangers might do well to dial back their expectations a bit. No matter how important you are, you are not nearly as important as you think you are. That’s my experience, anyway, and I assume it applies to everyone. It must, because why wouldn’t everyone feel the same way I do? My standard advice applies – moderation in all things, and don’t do anything rash. Sleep on it, buster. Whatever it is.
But that’s just one opinion. What do YOU think, Dr. Babooner?
Here’s a note that came in last night from perennial sophomore Bubby Spamden, forever doing 10th grade work at Wendell Wilkie High School. This is the first-ever mass e-mail I’ve received from Bubby. He’s usually quite chatty and personal, but now he has morphed into an organizer. Or at least he’s trying.
Hey Person on My May Day E-mail List,
Today is a day of non-active Action! I’m calling on all you faceless individuals to stand united with me today as we Rise Up and Sit Down so that we may be counted as The People who Will Not Be Ignored.
I know they call it May Day, but I’m calling it May NOT Day. By that I mean that this is the day when you may NOT do the things you normally do, especially work things, school things and commercial things. It’s the only way to let the others who don’t pay attention to you know that you actually DO something, because as far as they’re concerned, you’re just a useless, sorry load!
It’s like when my mom suddenly stopped doing my laundry because she got tired of what she said was my “… sense of entitlement”. She thought I was taking her for granted and assuming she would just automatically wash my clothes without me ever having to do anything about it – not even taking the trouble to put my blue jeans down the laundry chute. But I really wasn’t taking her for granted at all, because if you’re going to take something for granted, first you have to notice that it’s happening! And I didn’t. I had no idea my clothes were getting washed. Really!
But about a month after she started doing nothing clothes-wise (for me), I did start to notice. Or to be more exact, people at school started to notice. They already think I’m a little weird, but when my clothes started to go to class without me, I heard about it.
And that’s when I started to appreciate my mom a whole lot more – because she really does do a LOT of work and I can’t afford to hire somebody else to take her place. Even the people who will work for nothing want more than I have.
So that’s why we’re going on strike today! To get attention for the things that we do! And in my case, that means helping to put together this protest, which is more work than I’ve ever done in my LIFE. Whew! Organizing large groups of people to do nothing on purpose together is wearing me out! So make my job easier and chill, will you?
Thanks, faceless person. I really appreciate you giving me a break here.
Your friend,
Bubby
Ever go on strike, or stop doing something so someone else would notice you?
How did it turn out?
Back row: Bill Nelson, Robin Nelson, Lisa Sinclair, Krista Wilkowski, Margaret Mazzaferro Front row: Edith Carlson, Barbara Hassing, Linda Ruecker, Sherrilee Carter
Here at the end of April, we see evidence everywhere that winter is in full retreat and summer is on the way. Occasionally there is a Very Serious bit of hand wringing over the Possibility Of Snow in the forecast, but when the most recent alert came for Saturday, the result was less than impressive.
Let’s face it, tomorrow is May Day and Old Man Winter is kaput – he has Thrown In The Trowel.
And yes, I mean Trowel. A group of kind baboons got together yesterday morning to put an exclamation point on O.M.W.’s demise. We who do yard work are naturally hesitant to get out there to start roughing up the soil too early. Most people I’ve talked to enjoyed our mild March but were too suspicious to take the bait. April is always a beautiful liar – things might be OK but April’s moods can change quickly. There’s really no sense in doing too much garden work when she’s around. But May … That’s the time when the work you do stands a chance of NOT being undone.
Baboons at work in the garden.
So the Baboon crew headed out to Plain Jane’s place to do a good deed for a comrade who suffered a nasty fall last February. She had fractures in her pelvic bone and pain galore, plus a stern admonition from the doctors to not overdo it during recovery.
How does a person who can’t garden get the gardening done? Steve takes it from here:
We met from 9 AM until 2 PM on a semi-overcast, brisk but beautiful day. PJ has made wonderful progress recovering from her accident, and yet she isn’t yet ready to garden. The gardening crew raked, cut out unwanted plants, pulled weeds, and hauled away a lot of refuse. It was all light, rewarding work that went quickly because there was so much good conversation.
After the work was over, about noon, Margaret served a luncheon buffet starring a broccoli soup and smoked trout. Various baboons brought cupcakes, sweet bread, cheeses, crackers, and plenty of red wine. Everyone seemed pleased with the quality, quantity, and variety of food . . . including Margaret’s dog, Pablo, who approved of any leftover he could reach. It was a party from start to end, and we all had a great time.
PJ’s fall happened on February 23rd. Less than a day before she tumbled, she told this story in the comments section of our ongoing conversation.
I have been blessed with numerous angels in my life. One stands out, mainly because his unexpected gift allowed me to go to college. When Bob, who I had met only six or seven times when I was 18 years old, but with whom I had remained in contact via letters, heard that wasband and I had moved to Carbondale, he sent me a check for $2,500.00. His accompanying letter said: “Please accept this loan, to be paid back, at no interest, whenever you can. Apply to the university, you will not be able to find a decent job unless you do. I’ll send you another $2,500.00 in six months. Love, Bob.” I followed Bob’s advice, got a scholarship and a student job, and made it through four years at SIU without any incurring any debt.
When I graduated and we were about to leave Carbondale, I wrote Bob to tell him that I would soon be able to begin repaying the loan. A couple of weeks later I received a letter from Bob’s attorney informing me that Bob had passed away. There was also a note from Bob’s wife stating that Bob had made no mention of, nor any record of this loan; she was sure he intended it to be a gift, and to please pay it forward.
Bob’s gift has enabled me to help two different friends avoid foreclosures, and other small gifts to people who have been in a tight spot. It is a gift that keeps giving forty years after Bob’s death.
Clearly PJ found inspiration in Bob’s gift and faithfully paid it forward, just as our Baboonish Garden Crew was inspired by PJ’s calamity to commit a random act of kindness yesterday.
When have you “paid it forward” or been on the receiving end of someone else’s kindness?
Trail Baboon 