Songs

Dukes of Dexterity

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Today might be Mississippi John Hurt‘s Birthday. Or not.

Many sources list the day as July 3, 1893, but there’s a tombstone in Avalon, Mississippi that claims it’s March 8th, 1892. Not that the date matters all that much. I’d be in favor of adding several dozen dates to the list to create more confusion, because any excuse to listen to John Hurt works for me.

Since Hurt was born in the 19th century, he came from a world where “digital content” was something you made with your fingers. One oft-told story is that when the classical guitar master Andrés Segovia heard one of Hurt’s solo recordings, he asked who was playing the second guitar. I like it that we get a chance to see his hands work in this video.

There is more certainty about today being the birthday of another remarkable string player – Bob Brozman. Speaking of talented hands, in this clip he’s a percussionist too.

Ten fingers in good working order – what a gift!

How do you express your dexterity?

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The Marlin Problem

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I couldn’t help noticing that the annual Twin Cities Auto Show starts this weekend.

I went through my automobile enthrallment phase at age 9, at the midpoint of the 1960’s when American cars still dominated the roads. They were big, heavy, and not very well made, by today’s standards. But I didn’t care about reliability or performance. For me, cars were design objects. If they didn’t move I would only have been mildly disappointed. I loved cars for the way they looked.

Marlin_1

One 1965 model caught my eye for its sleekness – the Rambler Marlin.

The Marlin had a roofline that swept back all the way to the lip of the trunk, if it had only had a trunk. An eye-catching feature was a big, flat elongated rear window that had to be huge so the driver would have more than a slit to look through.

Whenever we went on a family trip, I scanned the lanes for a glimpse of one of these exotic vehicles. I still remember crossing a bridge and spotting a Marlin as it sped by beneath us. The car was distinctive for its two tone color scheme – often done in red and black and frequently pictured in advertisements from above and behind.

It was a big deal to see one on the road, because Rambler didn’t sell a lot of Marlins. That was a puzzle, because to me, they were beautiful. Was it because cars aren’t usually named for fish? I can think of only one other – the Plymouth Barracuda.

Now, almost 50 years later, I discover at least part of the truth – Marlins were not all that attractive, and for a very specific reason.

The design of the 1965 Marlin was influenced by American Motors Chairman Roy Abernethy, who insisted that the company produce cars that he could ride comfortably – in the back seat. Meeting that requirement meant the sleek fastback plunge of the Marlin’s roofline couldn’t begin until it cleared Abernethy’s head, and he was 6’4″.

rambler-marlin-car

Abernethy told the engineers to raise the roofline an inch – a change imposed while the company’s design chief was traveling in Europe. The result was an oddly shaped, disproportionate profile. From the side the car that appeared so futuristic from above seemed more like a standard sedan that decided, too late in life, to act young and hip. Awkward!

Describe something that looked good to you then, but now? Not so much.

Poems

Death Complaint Haiku

39 Comments

My apologies, Baboons, for the absence of a fresh post yesterday. I mis-entered some information in the WordPress machinery and my tidbit languished, waiting to launch at 5:41 pm rather than its usual time at 2 am. This allowed for an extended conversation of Spring gardening plans, which turned out to be exactly the right topic for baboons to discuss on a snowy Tuesday.

The snafu also led to some speculation that I had met an early demise, which is certainly within the realm of possibility, but thankfully it was not true this time. As a human living on Earth, I have noted with chagrin the vast number and variety of possible exits from this life – most of them unpleasant and all of them unjust.

And yet, some days it seems like the universe wants to find memorable ways to demonstrate that it is inherently unfair, causing innocent people lose their lives in unfortunate accidents. I am reminded of this by the astounding case of Mr. Jeff Bush of Seffner, Florida.

Last Thursday, he climbed into his bed only to have a sinkhole open right beneath him. What are the chances?

Bush’s brother attempted a rescue as the bedroom was collapsing, but it was not to be. First responders looked and listened for a sign that the victim was still alive in the hole, but no signal was received. Authorities have determined the body to be “unrecoverable”, due to the awkward logistics of these unexpected openings in the porous limestone that undergirds Florida and several other states.

There are no “good” ways to go and every loss is a tragedy. But this one seems particularly capricious. In fact, an aggrieved person would be justified in lodging a complaint at the Pearly Gates. Though with so many new arrivals having legitimate gripes, a word limit on the appeals would be wise, no doubt.

Could you put it in a haiku?

I.
I had just started
“Now I lay me down to sleep”
What was your hurry?

II.
Piano movers
really shouldn’t text while they
are holding the rope.

III.
Never listen when
any photographer says
“Take one more step back”

IV.
Other times I ate
identical sandwiches
they slid down just fine.

V.
In retrospect that
pricey, stable stepladder
was a better buy.

VI.
That locomotive
was slower than my Harley.
Timing is crucial.

Speaking of timing, later might be way too late. Better write yours now.

The Baboon Congress

Tomato-ville

113 Comments

Today’s guest post comes from Sherrilee.

Whenever someone on the Trail brings up a book, I check it out and usually try to find it and read it. So someone mentioned Tomatoland: How Modern Industrial Agriculture Destroyed Our Most Alluring Fruit, I quickly checked it out from the library. It was horrifying; I was appalled by the ethics, the chemistry and the economics of the tomato industry that were laid out by the author. In addition, it made me think about the taste of tomatoes that I’ve been purchasing recently. All of this led me to the decision that I really wanted to grow my own tomatoes this past summer.

Unfortunately I have two big dogs who have no respect for my gardening efforts. Many of my perennials are protected by fencing or tomato cages; past vegetable gardens have been mowed down in their infancy by these marauders. For several years I’ve tried growing tomatoes in big pots on the driveway but I’ve never had any luck with that. After deciding that I really wanted to grow more tomatoes I did some research on raised bed gardens and fences, searching the internet to find some cost-effective methods. That was when I stumbled across straw bale gardening. You plant your vegetables directly into straw bales. Whenever anything seems that simple I am instantly skeptical so I spent several days finding websites, blogs and online photos of this method. Everybody seemed to think it was a great way to grow vegetables.

So one weekend morning, the Teenager and I drove down to the garden center and came home with four straw bales (no easy feat in our little Saturn Ion). For fourteen days I followed a schedule of watering, then fertilizing, then watering more. After two weeks, I dug little holes in each bale, added a handful of potting soil, then set the plants into the bales. Since the plants are on the top of the bales, they are safe from dogs and bunnies. And a side benefit that I hadn’t anticipated – no weeds!

The plants went wild. I’ve had to add tomato cages and stakes and eventually I had to pull two of the bales apart because the peppers weren’t getting sun. I got tomatoes galore – way too many for even the Teenager and I to eat fresh, so I now have lots of roasted tomatoes in the freezer to enjoy over the fall and winter months.

So I will definitely be having a straw bale garden again in 2013. I think I’ll do more bales and only put 2 plants in each bale. And I may branch out with peas and beans!

What are your gardening plans for this year?

Uncategorized

A Bit Under the Weather

61 Comments

Today’s post comes from Curiosity’s Mars Rover.

So I hear the people at Yahoo are being told not to telecommute because it tends to isolate you. Thanks for the timely tip – though it’s not very helpful to me now. I’m committed to working at a distance.

And I’m not complaining, but how many of you would be able to stay calm if your workplace was millions of miles away from the home office, and yet most of the world finds out within minutes if you’re having an equipment malfunction? That’s what it’s like to be me. You’re wonderful, sophisticated, cutting edge technology. Blah blah blah. They love you for the textbook landing, but start to complain the first time you have a down day.

OK, so what if we had to switch to my “backup brain.” Is that so bad? Does everything have to carry such a stigma? If it had been my drilling arm that malfunctioned, my inbox would be overflowing with sympathy. But say that I’ve had a “software glitch” and suddenly the rumor mill is saying I’ve lost it.

Thanks for the vote of confidence.

curiosity020313

But I’m not complaining. I’m NOT!

Really, I’ve been patient. You wouldn’t believe what it’s like to work with these NASA engineers. Everything has to be examined and discussed. Trying something crazy just to “see what happens” is not in their vocabulary! I know that thinking things through is their strong suit, but really, you can overdo it, guys.

Yes, I’ve had a chance to drill a hole in a rock. Or so they tell me. Big whoop. Mostly I sit around waiting for instructions while Earth people in white shirts and skinny ties talk about what might happen next.

Yawn.

It’s no surprise one of my computers got “stuck in an endless loop” trying to process a command – they come so infrequently! And when I got switched to my “other brain” – a backup computer – do you think I noticed the difference? I did not. At least there should be a few feelings of freshness that come with turning on your backup brain, don’t you think?

But no. It’s just more of the same waiting game, only now I don’t even have the memory of drilling that hole. Must have been great. I get the feeling it will be a while before I get to do something like that again.

Ah, well. I await your command.

How do you compensate when you’re having an off day?

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Universal Patterns

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Welcome to Sequester Day, an inevitable result of our divided government. Two warring political parties are simply begging us to assign the majority of blame to one of them so we can tip the scales one way or the other and move on. Right now, it seems like the Republicans are gathering up most of the blame, but that could change. Perceived responsibility shifts as quickly as a fingers can point, and Washington is a very pointy place for political parties a the moment.

In the meantime, their relative equality produces a sickeningly repetitive pattern of behavior – accusation / stalemate / debacle / patch / repeat.

It is tiresome, and it does make one long for the simple, airless vacuum of space.

Patterns occur here too, though at least they are lovely to look at. This one is rather mysterious. I did not know that Saturn wears a Hexagonal Hat. This pattern was spotted by the Voyager spacecraft 30 years ago, and confirmed by the more recent Cassini mission. This is all happening in a thick, cloudy atmosphere that should be a bit more changeable, but the hexagon appears to be remarkably stable, just like the amazing snowflake below it and the dazzling spiral of a nearby feature – appropriately called The Whirlpool Galaxy. I’m sure there must be another one out there named Maytag.

729528main_PIA14646_1024-768

hexagon-snowflake-1047257-lw

729777main_hubble_spin_cropped_1024-768

Describe a predictable pattern you’ve observed. Extra points if it’s beautiful.

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Pigs, Goats, Comedians

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It really doesn’t make sense to spend much time sharing things on the Internet if you are in any way bothered by the feeling that you are a dope, a loser, a chump, a tool, someone who can’t count, or both. No matter how smart you think you are, eventually something will happen to demonstrate that you are easily used by other people because you are willing to believe things that are not true.

The latest bit of proof supporting this Internet Law is the case of the Pig Saves Goat viral video, in which a baby goat with its foot stuck at the bottom of a pool of water is dislodged and pushed to shore by a virtuous pig.

This supposedly heroic act by a brave porcine bystander at a petting zoo made the global rounds in September. News programs ran with the footage and millions cheered.

It now comes to light that the event was staged for a television show, and required a crew of 20 that included divers, animal trainers, plexiglass wranglers and animal welfare monitors.

Some skeptics were correct five months ago when they first saw the clip and questioned its believability. Others who saw it at the time and didn’t say anything are now realizing they knew all along that something was wrong.

I’m with them.

I immediately became suspicious when I noticed that the pig didn’t dive down to the bottom of the pool to use his teeth to pull the goat hoof out from between the pinching rocks, as any other normal pig would do in that situation. My doubts were also sparked by the realization that when both animals were on dry land and the rescue was an obvious success, the pig didn’t smile, wink, pump his hoof in the air or give anyone a high two.

That seemed odd.

Quite a few major news organizations bought into this ruse by unquestioningly featuring it on their programs. Some journalists say this proves beyond any doubt that the mainstream media are feckless and lazy. Those critics should surrender their journalism license for having some doubt left to begin with. And don’t check to see if there’s such a thing as a journalism license – that will just complicate the story and make it harder for you to get out of the office at a reasonable time.

I’m glad I saw this video back in September and decided not to use in on Trail Baboon. That means today I can feel like I’m not a dope or a loser. But I did share the back story, which was saved until now as a clever and effective way to promote a new Comedy Central series which has its premiere tonight. That certifies it – I’m a chump.

Describe an instance when everyone around you was wrong, and you were right. (If there is no such instance, please – make one up.)

The Baboon Congress

Ask Dr. Babooner

50 Comments

Good or bad, advice is free and easy to give. We are ALL Dr. Babooner.

Ann_Landers baboon 2

Dear Dr. Babooner,

My spouse and I recently returned from a dream vacation in a condo on the east end of the island of St. Thomas in the Caribbean.

Before leaving we asked friends for advice on what to do and heard plenty about restaurants, shopping, and sightseeing. Everyone seemed so excited about all the things they were suggesting! And they were nice ideas, but instead of taking those recommendations we skipped the rental car and spent our time taking walks on the beach, playing in the ocean, watching iguanas and sea birds, taking naps and playing cribbage on the lanai.

We had fun, but we skipped everything we were told to do. Now when friends ask how the trip went, I remember their enthusiastic suggestions and I’m afraid to say anything. And when they ask to see pictures, I lie and say the camera was eaten by a duck.

Here’s why – if you look at our photos, you’ll see that you don’t see any shots of the fort or the plantations or the shopping district – in short, there’s nothing there from any of the major tourist destinations.

This was a fabulous vacation, but my friends are convinced that something went terribly wrong because I’m so close-mouthed about it. Rumors are starting to circulate that we both came down with the Virgin Islands Pelican Flu and are depressed from taking massive amounts of antibiotics.

Dr. Babooner, I want to share my vacation with those close to me, but I’ve waited too long and now I’m afraid I will never be able to tell anyone anything about it. What can I do?

Confusedly Yours,

Deeply Conflicted By Island Respite

I told DCBIR that we shouldn’t arrange our vacations to please other people, and if she and her husband came back happy, that’s the only thing that matters. Anybody who would criticize you to your face for not taking their advice is a boor and a snob. Decent people will criticize you BEHIND YOUR BACK for not taking their advice. That’s how it is, and how it always should be.

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

Songs

H.B. Fats Domino

30 Comments

Today is New Orleans musician Fats Domino‘s birthday – he’s 85 today, despite rumors to the contrary that he died during Hurricane Katrina.

I’m especially happy to have him around in 2013 when everything is so dark and serious because the Fats Domino songs are full of cheerful energy and light. Even Blue Monday has a bit of a respite when we get to Saturday morning.

These tunes can lighten any mood – a handy tool to have in this week leading to the imminent sequestration debacle in Washington. It makes me want to sing.

In fact, I’m delighted to see that Fats Domino has so many memorable sequestration-friendly four syllable song titles, like Blueberry Hill, Ain’t That A Shame, Jambalaya and My Blue Heaven.

Calamity calls.
Disaster is nigh.
We’re gonna try sequestration.

We can’t raise a tax.
Too much debt on our backs.
That leads us to sequestration.

We’re gonna cut defense, the border fence, and baby’s shoes.
Let’s roll the dice. It won’t be nice. What’s left to lose?

Goodbye to your job. Don’t be such a snob.
You gotta love sequestration!

Name a song that could be adapted as a sequestration ballad.

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The Pirate Oscars

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

Aye!

Me an’ me boys watched th’ Oscars by satellite TV last night, on account of how excitin’ it is t’ see all them pretty people wearin’ fine garb an’ expensive jewelry. As a rule we don’t allow no pornography here on board th’ Muskellunge, but seein’ all them costly adornments hangin’ off’n necks an’ wrists, all so reachable an’ gathered up in one place – well, t’was was about as stimulatin’ as it gets for me an’ th’ boys.

Afterwards we always has a discussion ’bout th’ Port of Los Angeles, an’ how vulnerable it would be t’ a surprise attack.

I ain’t sayin’ we will, an’ I ain’t sayin’ we won’t.

But one thing we does do for sure is give away th’ Pirate Oscars t’ some of th’ boys on th’ crew. After all, Shakespeare said “We is all actors, an’ th’ world is but our stage”, or some such thing. That’s somethin’ me an’ th’ boys believes wholeheartedly. But of course we has our own categories, such as:

Best Captain in a Leading Role
Best Matey
Best Matey in a Supporting Role
Hand to Hand Combat
Pillaging
Plundering
Robbery
Revelry
Best Song
Best Bawdy Song
Smelliest Garb
Most Awful Teeth
Stubble Design
Best Original Eye Patch
Peg Leg Achievement
Best Parrot

We has a fine time givin’ away our Pirate Oscars, which ain’t shiny statuettes on account of th’ melee what would break out if’n we introduced that much gold into general circulation on board th’ ship. Instead, each winner gets a flagon of grog, which he has t’ swallow in it’s entirety right away.

It adds t’ th’ merriment. In fact, th’ awards for Revelry, Best Song an’ Best Bawdy Song takes forever t’ give away, on account of th’ acceptance speeches goin’ on pretty much nonstop for th’ rest of th’ night. We has to give away th’ rest of th’ awards over the din, an’ we is all hoarse an’ happy by th’ next morning.

Ain’t that right boys?
Aye. They says ’tis.

Yer Pirate Pal,
Capt. Billy

I have no doubt that the Captain and his boys have a fine time with the real Oscars and their own, more personal awards. But it seems to me they could reduce the number of categories and significantly shorten the night. Aren’t “Pillaging” “Plundering” and “Robbery” the same thing? Still, when dealing with sensitive egos, sometimes it’s best to give everyone more chances to win.

If you awarded Oscars to the actors in your own life, what would the categories be?