Snow Art

Today’s post was imagined by Barbara in Robbinsdale, with contributions from Clyde, PJ, Jim in Clarks Grove, Linda in St. Paul, Anna and Kelly.

The national news is far too disheartening to face today, so with the help of a baboon platoon we’re going to re-wind to last weekend in southern Minnesota when a Sunday snowstorm temporarily softened the landscape.

A deep coating of fresh snow can transform the harsh, grimy world into a fantasyland. The to-do list is momentarily suspended and plans are re-shaped to account for the scene’s new contours. A second (or third) cup of coffee is poured and we watch as the schedule for the day is re-written by nature.

But eventually duty calls and a path back to reality must be cleared. As BiR wrote:

Husband and I headed out around 3:00 for the “first wave” of shoveling and snowblowing. My first task was to free up some pine branches out front which were dangerously low, so I could then get down the steps to the drive.

The hours and days that follow are all about slogging, shoveling, brushing, and if you try to go anywhere in a car, waiting and muttering. A big snow can quickly come to feel like an annoying burden. A week later when the roadside dirt has accumulated and the rain comes, the beauty of fresh snow may feel like a distant memory.

But in the heart of a major storm that arrives on a day when you can simply watch and appreciate it, there are surprises and blessings all around.

The photos here were all taken last Sunday by Trial Baboon readers. The addition of snow can turn pedestrian scenes into works of art, so take a look at our gallery. Click on any one of the pictures to see an enlarged version, and leave your comment in the box below!

Suggest a title, or describe what might have happened here just after the photo was snapped.

Christmas Standoff!

Today’s post comes from 9th District Congressman Loomis Beechly, representing all the water surface area in the State of Minnesota.

Greetings Constituents,

I’ve been getting calls from 9th Districters who want to know how I stand on the latest political standoff, so I want to take a moment here to say that I am delighted at the way the Fiscal Cliff talks are going!

All The Stuff That Matters Is Happening In Here
All The Stuff That Matters Is Happening In Here

Think of it. Just these two guys are having a string of private meetings to come to an agreement on a huge deal that profoundly effects everybody else while the rest of us watch and wonder.

It’s like spending the whole month of December standing around in St. Peter’s Square, waiting for a plume of white smoke that means the Cardinals have finally found a compromise, except that in this case the Vatican is more like an ice fishing shack and the guys inside aren’t wearing funny hats, they’re playing poker, drinking beer, smoking cigars, and arguing about whether catching big fish through a hole in the ice is a matter of skill or dumb luck.

I can only guess that before long, the door will open and they’ll flop some smelly fishy carcass onto the snow and tell us it’s a last-minute take-it-or-leave-it kind of deal that is our only hope of saving the economy from another crash onto the scary rocks. That’s Democracy!

Well, not really.

Some of my colleagues say they will examine the deal very carefully and hold it to a set of high standards. But my promise to you is that I will plug my nose and vote for anything that comes out of the shack if it keeps the Ship Of State afloat, no matter how ugly it is, regardless of how brutally it does what it does.

Because people who live in an all-water district know that staying afloat is our highest and best goal. Yes, we 9th Districters understand that sinking feeling on a level that other Americans can only imagine. When you can’t breathe, tax brackets and the safety net are just silly details people talk about.

Actually, I take that back. A safety net is pretty important thing when you can’t breathe.

But my point is this – as your Congressman, I have been relieved of the need to think very hard about this one. All I’ll have to do is react, explain, and probably apologize later.

In fact, let me apologize right now.

“Sorry, constituents, but I felt I had no choice. It was either vote for a flawed deal, or watch the sweet world disappear from view, flailing helplessly against the grasping weeds of Lake Default as they pull us down into the forever darkness!”

But maybe that’s too grim an analogy for you, so let’s think of it instead as the elementary school holiday pageant. The kids are trying their hardest, so remember that your role is to stand in the back of the gym and applaud. Just be grateful. There’s already too much stress in the season to waste time looking for more.

Have a lovely day and a wonderful Christmas, or whatever other holiday you observe! The world isn’t going to end and 2013 will arrive on time, bringing plenty for us to complain about.

Your Congressman,
Loomis Beechly.

I always appreciate the Congressman’s honesty, even when I don’t quite get his point. But I trust that he is truly telling us what he believes, which is a Very Brave Thing To Do when your thoughts don’t make much sense.

When have you endured a Long Wait?

Willie

Today’s guest post comes from Jim in Clark’s Grove.

Jackson High School
Jackson High School

Willie was a classmate of mine at Austin Blair Elementary School in Jackson, Michigan. This school was located in an almost completely white working class neighborhood. Willie was one of a very small number of black kids that attended this school when I was enrolled there in the late forties and early fifties. He was not one of the neighborhood kids that I played with regularly. We did spend some time together in school and also after school. I remember one occasion when I went to his house and was surprised to see that there were beds used for sleeping in most of the rooms, including the kitchen. I guess it was a small house and there wasn’t enough bedrooms for everyone who lived there.

Willie and I were two of the tallest boys in our class. We decided we should work on developing our basketball skills. This included practicing shooting free throws together as well as getting help from a teacher on our shooting skills. I was a good student. Willie had trouble with his studies. I remember thinking that he was being treated as if he wasn’t very smart, but that wasn’t true. It seemed to me that he might have been able to do better in school if he had not been looked upon as someone who wasn’t capable of doing the work.

Willie

Racism was not a widely discussed topic in the late forties and early fifties. I had some sense that Willie was a victim of racial prejudice because of the way he was treated in school. I also recall a situation out side of school where racism came into play. Willie asked me if he could be my guest at the church I attended. I asked my parents if Willie could go to church with us. They didn’t seem to be in favor of this and said very little about it. There were no black members in our church and it was a church that many of the people from the best part of town attended. I think both my parents and I would have felt very uncomfortable taking Willie to church with us as a guest.

I let Willie’s request drop without telling him anything.

jim

I don’t remember going to junior high with Willie. I think he went to the junior high in the center of town and I went to the one on the east side. I moved away from Jackson for two years before returning to attend Jackson High during my last two years of high school. It was a large high school and the only class that I think I had with Willie was gym class. One day in gym class Willie and I teamed up to beat another team of basketball players that included a member of the varsity team and some of his friends. Willie and I were not candidates for the varsity team, but we gave those guys a surprise on that day.

I have one last memory of Willie regarding something that happened during preparations for graduation. We were dressed in suit coats and ties. Willie noticed that the way he did his tie was different from the way I did mine. I did up my tie with a plain looking knot that I had learned from my Dad. Willie helped me undo my tie and tie it up again with the more elegant Windsor knot that he used.

Willie and I went our separate ways after graduation. I don’t know what became of him. I do very much appreciate having had the opportunity to become acquainted with him during my years in grade school and high school.

If you could re-connect with an old friend, who would it be and why?

Happy Dozens Day!

We are in a pivotal time for humankind – the era of paranoid obsession over the numbers that appear on our calendar.

Oh, wait a minute. That’s every era.

So far, the way the numbers roll up in the date line on your checks has had nothing to do with the fate of the planet or the civilization, but we can’t help but notice when the lineup appears portentous. In nine days the frenzy will peak with the arrival of the utterly meaningless 12-21-12.

I find today more interesting anyway – more orderly and beautiful somehow.

The challenge for 12-12-12 is to write a twelve line poem with twelve syllables in each line. And you get 12 bonus points if it rhymes!

There’s nothing to keep you from telling your cousins.
The month, year and day for today are all dozens.
But why would you make it a point to be geeky?
They already think that you’re thoroughly freaky.

These digits don’t indicate anything scary.
You shouldn’t be frightened, perplexed or be wary.
Each day is a day that arrives unencumbered.
It’s people that name them and make them all numbered.

While the ones and the twos might seem key to our plot
What our calendar calls today signifies squat.
When setting the time of our big closing rally
The mind of the cosmos won’t look to our tally.

Not feeling poetical? Tell us how (or if) you’ll observe Dozens Day!

Parking Issues

Today’s guest post comes from Clyde.

Twenty years ago (Can it be 20 years?) when my partner and I started working together, we got into a fun argument about how to find a spot in parking lots.

The Clyde Method: find the first empty spot that looks about as close to the door as you are likely to get.

The John Method: drive around to find a spot as close as possible to the entrance.

Do you use the Clyde Method or the John Method for parking?

Our debate was over which of us had a more efficient method, which of us wasted more time: my longer walk or his longer drive. After three of four years of this, I was driving across Massachusetts, the eastern half of which is a full parking lot, when I heard WGBH public radio doing a report right to the heart of the matter. A graduate student in math at MIT was looking for a thesis project. He and his wife had the exact same difference in their parking methods and same debate. He developed a sound method for measuring it and found a mathematically-sound answer to the question. As it happens his model has applications for measuring and improving traffic flow and parking.

Wonder what his study found? I’ll tell you at the end of the day—maybe.

Today my parking quandaries are focused more on handicapped parking. My wife has a tag, which is in its way more of a problem than a solution. It was wonderful when we went to visit our son in California, and maybe now when we go to Seattle. Before we had the tag, we were with him in San Diego years ago visiting all the wonderful sights of that city, all with huge parking lots, when he declared that his parents were at that awkward in-between stage, old and slow moving but not yet old enough for a handicapped parking tag.

My problems with handicapped parking are fourfold, all exacerbated by my bad back which makes it impossible for me to turn my head very far:

  1. Handicapped parking is always at the busiest place in the parking lot, right by the entrance with heavy foot and vehicle traffic.
  2. Handicapped spots almost always require you to back out; they have that post with the blue sign at the front of them.
  3. Many of the other people who park in those spots simply should not be driving anymore. So you have to be ready to dodge them.
  4. Many of those who park in the spots have large vehicles, some because they are wheelchair vans, but many are just large vehicles.

A neighbor of mine says that at the local car dealership where he works the most popular sale is for extended cab full-size pickups, often to those with handicapped parking rights. Because I drive a small Scion black box, I frequently have to back out blind into unseen busy foot and vehicular traffic. Scary.

I have a problem leaving parking spots almost anywhere in a busy lot because of the tunnel vision caused by so many Intimida-look-alikes, many of them in the winter with snow plows. I usually drop my wife and her walker at the door and then park far out in the lot with my car facing out. Sometimes my waif of a car still ends up hidden between two bullies.

Parking Issues

There is another problem with handicapped parking only a few places have solved, which does not effect us. The cart corrals are out in the middle of the parking lot. So what is then the benefit of the handicapped parking? Some people just leave the cart right there, and it often rolls into a parking spot, blocking it from the next handicapped driver to come along. I have seen some non-handicapped people just leave their unloaded cart in an empty handicapped spot. Two new large busy parking lots have been built here, neither of which provided a cart corral by the handicapped parking. As usual in America it is the appearance of things that matters more than the actual results.

But I have a moral question for you to solve for me. You would be surprised how often this occurs. Some parking lots have very large numbers of handicapped parking spots, often many sitting unused on a busy day. I pull into a busy parking lot with several handicapped spots available. However, also right by those spots is a non-blue spot.

Which should I take?
To which community, the handicapped or the non-handicapped, should I try to be fair?

Ask Dr. Babooner

Ann_Landers baboon 2

Dear Dr. Babooner,

I’m a reasonably sane 55 year old man taking early retirement. I want to live a life of convenience so I’ve been looking at online lists of the best places to retire.

Apparently a lot of it has to do with weather.

I confess I haven’t spent much time paying attention to weather because I’ve been focused on making money as a coal mine elevator technician. I know, it’s not one of those jobs you think about very much, but the companies pay big money to get a quick repair and the miners slip me cash on the side to keep the thing broken. It’s win-win! For me, anyway.

Now I’m independently wealthy and could live anywhere I want. One area of concern though – Mother Earth might be trying to kill me as revenge for all my years in the coal industry. Yes, it’s personal. I just don’t want to make it too easy for her.

According to the climate change scientists, sea levels are rising and places that didn’t have a problem with flooding will be battered by an endless string of increasingly violent storms producing surges that may make coastal communities uninhabitable – even the densely populated and resource rich northeastern sections of the United States are at risk as we learned from Superstorm Sandy.

Living on a cliff overlooking the water isn’t any better. In California, we’re learning that Mother Nature can quite casually toss dead whales up on the beach or send so much rain that your house slides down the side of the hill into the ocean!

Then there are earthquakes and tornadoes to contend with. Drought is another thing Mother Earth likes to hurl at people who violate the environment. Yes, I watched that show about the Dust Bowl! I thought Minnesota would be safe and for a while it was looking pretty good. Until today. My neighbor swears this pile of snow is not related to climate change – but I think it’s just another hit attempt – on me!

Dr. Babooner, is any place on Earth safe for someone hiding from the Earth itself?

Sincerely,
I.M. Paranoid

Dear IMP,

This is the most ridiculous question I’ve ever had, and it makes me wonder if your brain was damaged by mine gasses. No, there is no safe place on Earth for a person who does not want to be inconvenienced by the Earth itself. Since you’ve already spent most of your working life underground, perhaps you should plan to live there. My suggestion – dig a deep hole somewhere and climb in. Make sure the drainage and venting are good and you can live out your days looking at pictures of what happens on the tumultuous surface. But remember, once your stay on Earth is through, you’ll be underground for millions of years. Do you really want to get an early start on that?

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

Bart to Mitt: Hibernate!

Today’s post comes from Bart, the bear that found a smart phone in the woods. His offering has been translated from its original language – Ursus Textish.

Yo, Bart here.

Bart Blackberry2

Looks like that Mitt Romney’s handlers and hangers-on have all dropped off, leaving him pretty much alone – as alone as a bear in the December woods! So I kinda feel close to him in a way that makes it OK for me to offer some advice.

Mitt, I’ve seen the stories about you going to movies and filling your own car with gas and riding amusement park rides by yourself and scribbling long notes to old friends and staring out the window. The writers of these articles are amazed that you are doing ordinary things. And they can’t help comparing all these dumb time-wasters to what you would be doing if you’d won the election – planning your inauguration and solving the problems of the world.

Yes, you were almost president, but now it’s your picture that comes up when someone googles “pathetic”. Time to get over it.

In my opinion, you need to hibernate.

It’s great therapy and totally natural. We all go through it – some more than others. When the food dries up and the weather turns cold, you get this feeling there’s really nothing to enjoy about being alive.

That’s when a good long sleep can help a guy adjust.

Anyway, “sleep” isn’t really the right word for it – you just become half awake, grumpy and non-responsive, sort of like President Obama in that first debate.

You can afford the time off, Mitt. Just dig a shallow depression in some overlooked corner of one of your estates, and curl up under a bed of leaves and branches. Let the country fly off a fiscal cliff while you drift into a state of torpor.

Nothing you can do or say at this point will make any difference anyway.

And when you do wake up, we’ll still be here. Things will either be worse or not. But in either case, you’ll be OK and you’ll feel a whole lot better – in fact you’ll feel like ripping open a rotting log to see if there are some grubs inside! It’s an entitlement – forest style!

That’s where you want to be! So stop appearing in public. Give them a chance to forget about you.

I predict in three years you’ll be able to re-surface with a fresh haircut and a nice suit and people will think you’re brand new. So why not give it a try? After all, what (else) have you got to lose?

Your Pal,
Bart

Bart makes some good points, but it’s hard to know the mind of a politician. But it does make one think – you’ve just run for president and lost – how do you put that on your resume?

Earth at Night

Today’s post comes from Captain Billy of the Muskellunge.

Ahoy!

Me an me boys is mighty pleased t’ see that them scientists at NASA is finally startin’ t’ look at th’ planet Earth through pirate eyes! They has just released brand new detailed pictures of our world after dark, wi’ the sparlklin’ lights of th’ cities glowin’ fer all t’ see!

There’s lots of bright spots, an that gives us hope!

Dividin’ th’ light from th’ dark is th’ same method me an’ me boys uses t’ tell the th’ planet’s booty-rich zones from them what don’t have much booty at all. When we’s sailin’ down th’ coast, deliberatin’ about where t’ go scavengin’ next, we always heads t’ th’ light. Just like yer sposed to do in them dreams about dyin’.

An when we arrives at th’ next happy, well-lit place wi’ our daggers drawn, th’ people is always surprised on account of they didn’t notice us comin’ – they was blinded by their own glare. That there’s somethin’ t’ keep in mind on a planet-wide level.

Our Earth is mighty special-lookin’ from afar – quite attractive t’ interstellar swashbucklers.

I ain’t sayin’ there’s space pirates. But I ain’t sayin’ there ain’t. Th’ sort of person what goes into space used t’ be th’ unselfish, disciplined kind. But the standards has been lowered by quite a bit.

That’s all I wanted t’ say. The twinklin’ lights is pretty at night. But if you wants t’ keep th’ peace, best to draw yer blinds an’ sleep wi’ one eye open!

Yer seafarin’ pal,
Capt. Billy

I suppose the Captain has a point – hiding your light under a bushel is sometimes the most prudent thing to do.

Are you an electricity waster?

Dave Brubeck R.I.P.

One year ago today we observed Dave Brubeck’s 91st birthday.

Brubeck died yesterday and has been the subject of many remembrances and tributes. We’re sorry to see him go but there’s no question he used his time well and made a lasting impression. It will never be possible to measure the effect of his work on subsequent generations, but there’s a sense of it in these two videos posted on You Tube by his son, Chris.

The first is a performance recorded in June of 2011 where Dave makes a guest appearance with his son’s band. The Master comes out on stage to an ovation about 3 minutes into the recording.

And here’s a video of Dave and Chris talking about Ansel Adams, the photographer. They put together a symphonic piece for orchestras to play while Adams’ photographs are projected for the audience. Sounds majestic. But I particularly like the story they tell about Dave’s youth in northern California.

Musicians are composers. Photographers are composers. Talking about the similarities between the two art forms, Dave Brubeck said “That’s what you do as a composer – you develop a theme.”

Maybe we’re all composers in one way or another.

What themes have you developed?

Loose Lips Mock Cliffs

At ease, civilians!

But watch your language when it comes to casual talk about “going over the fiscal cliff”. We Public Safety Enthusiasts are alarmed at the decision by those who frame our discussions this way. To call the upcoming budget deadline a “Fiscal Cliff” does not give enough credit to cliffs!

No Cliff Talk!
No Cliff Talk!

A real cliff is a very serious thing indeed. Real cliffs don’t discriminate between the rich and the poor. They are not indexed and there are no exemptions. Think of a cliff as the sudden withdrawal of terrestrial support while gravity remain in place and is as vigorous as ever.

Can we survive without earth under our feet? I say no! This is undeniable. Instead, pundits gab with mock seriousness about “going over”.

This kind of talk creates what is widely known as a reverse visioning hazard. We already understand that visioning is a key principle in leading an organization – helping people “see” their future in order to make it happen. The more we envision a thing, like going over a cliff together, the closer it comes to reality.

And what if we DO go over the “cliff”, and it turns out to be Not That Bad? Suddenly, cliffs become part of the everyday lexicon, and “going over” is just something you do every now and then. No big deal? Wrong! Let’s make sure cliffs remain dreadful. We should speak of them in hushed tones, and stay away from every kind – figurative, fiscal, and physical. That’s my advice!

Yours in groundedness,
B.S.O. Rafferty

Have you ever gotten over a useful, protective fear?