Uncategorized

Wake Up Call

109 Comments

First off, an appeal to all baboons (the ones with seniority as well as those who are new – I’m planning to take a vacation the week of March 19th. I won’t be writing then, but I’d be happy to fill the week with guest posts if only some guests would step forward to post them. Send an e-mail with your idea. Write to me at connelly.dale@gmail.com!

I say this because I can’t count on getting a timely text from Bart – the bear who found a Smart Phone in the woods. He speaks up on occasion, but like cell phone reception itself, Bart is unreliable and a bit fuzzy at times.

Bart - The Bear Who Found a Cell Phone

Yo. Bart here.

Just letting you know I’m awake. I’m not the only one, either. Word is the bears of Aspen might be out of their dens early enough to hit the slopes before all the snow melts!

I kinda started to come around during the Oscars a few weeks ago because whoever had this phone before me subscribed to some kind of “alerts” whenever an Oscar winning celebrity would do something. And they’re always doing SOMETHING. The constant buzzing was driving me wild, and that’s saying a lot ’cause I’m wild to begin with.

Anyway, that kinda ended my hibernation for this year. Oh, I tried to go back to sleep, but it started getting so HOT. At this time of year we’re usually getting some pretty intense snow storms and crazy, wild, windy weather. When that stormy stuff starts to go down, I’m good for another coupla weeks of dozing. But this year – nothing. And I just can’t sleep when I’m too warm. Plus, everybody (and everything) else is waking up. Try lying down in a shallow hole in the woods when the little creepy buggy things are getting active – ugh! I really don’t like to have stuff crawling on me, which I know sounds weird because I’m, like, a bear and I carry around all this itchy fur. But really, when something burrows down to my skin, I get a little freaked out.

And you don’t want to see me when I’m freaked out.

Plus, the clock changed weird again. I saw it happen the other night when I was lying awake trying to figure out what kind of critter was marching across my forehead … the numbers went from 2:00 to 4:00. I KNOW there’s supposed to be a 3:00 in there, but it jumped. And that means trouble. Last year when this happened, people started showing up in the woods near the end of the day, like they suddenly had extra time or something.

Don’t get me wrong – I like people. But they can’t be trusted. You don’t want to be sleeping, or even in a state of torpor, when there are people around. They’re too dangerous. So I am kind of worried, and also hungry. The stuff I normally eat isn’t really available yet. There’s a house not far from here that has some garbage out where I can get it, but … I dunno. I kinda think I’m better than that, y’know?

I see some folks in Wisconsin got scolded for throwing food at a bear.
If any of them are reading this – you should come over here and try that. No, I mean really. Come try it. Bet you can’t toss a Twinkie right into my mouth! Try it! Best out of a dozen?

Your pal,

Bart

I quickly texted Bart back to tell him Twinkies are horrible for his digestion, terrible for his teeth and useless as nutrition, and he should run the other way if people throw Twinkies at him. But I know he won’t. If he winds up getting hit in the mouth with one, that could be the beginning of the end. There’s nothing good that can come out of a wild bear with an insatiable Hostess habit.

What’s your favorite snack food?

Uncategorized

Ask Dr. Babooner

53 Comments

Dear Dr. Babooner,

OK, so I’m a flight attendant. Every time I go on a trip, it’s the same. From the moment we board we run from one task to another until the moment we step off. We hurry because everyone is on a schedule and the plane has to leave the gate on time or it will create anxiety all down the line. Anyone can see we’re working like mad to stay just ahead of a total breakdown. No wonder some flight attendants freak out.

I never saw the romance in flying. In fact, when I was a kid I wanted to be a TV anchor. To deliver the nightly news in some mid-sized market was my dream. I didn’t want to work in a big city – that’s too much pressure. Small-time local celebrity would be just right – to be the person who is called on to cut the ribbon at the opening of the new Costco but is still able to have a quiet dinner at The Olive Garden brings the happiest kind of fame there is. In my opinion.

When I was just out of college I actually tried to do it and got pretty far, winding up on the production crew at a station where I soon discovered that the owners were clueless dolts, the anchors were alcoholic morons and the news director was a blithering idiot. Being stuck there forever would be worse than a lifetime sentence of working in a tiny, pressurized restaurant full of angry people. Or so I thought. So I took to the skies!

That’s why I liked doing the cabin announcement – at first. But I quickly noticed that nobody was paying attention. Nobody! The news that “in the event of a decompression, an oxygen mask will automatically appear in front of you” and “to start the flow of oxygen, pull the mask towards you” is vital information. Look up from your iPad, dammit! I told you to turn that stupid thing off!

I realized that the people on TV are lucky. They can’t see how the audience is ignoring them. I felt diminished every time I grabbed the intercom and took out my demonstration seat belt. I don’t care what they say about water boarding. The ultimate torture for a human being is to be visibly and pointedly ignored.

I soon found out there are three things that can get the bastards to look up. The phrases “mechanical problems”, and “returning to the gate” always draw a quick response. And the single, resonant word, “crash” hits like a thunderbolt. Every time. Saying any one of these things instantly turned me into a rock star. Saying all three in a single minute got me put in restraints.

Dr. Babooner, is it true that all attention is good?

Sincerely,
Look At ME!

I told LAME that it is definitely not true that all attention is good. In fact, aside from being close to several family members and a couple of good friends, it can be argued that receiving NO attention is preferable. And being totally ignored might be the ideal situation for a human being, as long as food and comfort are available.

But the people who achieve this blissful state will never be able to tell us about it, because by definition, we have no idea who they are.

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

Uncategorized

Goats in the News

118 Comments

Yes, the political candidates must be jealous. Goats can make headlines just by being goats in places where you don’t expect to see goats. Who needs a Super PAC when you can get your picture in The Huffington Post, The Daily Mail, New York Magazine and all over Twitter simply because no one has ever seen you stand while eating pizza in a Manhattan restaurant?

This is great publicity for any aspiring president who wants to capture the Pizzeria Vote, the Two-Legs-Good, Four-Legs-Bad Vote, the Urban Farmer Vote and, of course, the Goat Vote. It probably doesn’t do much to advance your chances with the Health Inspector Caucus, however.

Then there’s the woman who wants to keep goats in her yard, and as a result had to have a tense meeting with her neighbors. I guess the areas was so exclusive, there was simply no ruminant. What would they do if she had a sex offender living out back?

And it’s just not that often that you get to see the phrase “rogue pygmy goat” in a headline. Never, really. Godzilla, move over. It seems the “tiny” animal used its horns to break a window at a laundromat in Ravenna, Michigan. And then it eluded the authorities, according to the business owners:

The Steins said the goat is so fast that Muskegon County Sheriff deputies at the scene couldn’t catch him either. A deputy spotted the little rogue, but it outran him, according to a sheriff’s report.
“Cheryl tried to catch the goat, but the goat was too fast to catch. While speaking with Cheryl we located the goat. We tried to catch the goat, however, it ran into the fields behind the business.”
Ted Stein said the little goat has been taunting them ever since Tuesday’s incident.

I’m sure little goats can be rather quick. But I’m also certain that some big sheriff’s deputies can be quite slow. And as goats go, it’s the saucy ones that will taunt you. At any rate, this monster is still on the loose.

Name a place where you would draw unwelcome attention to yourself, just by being you.

Uncategorized

Stay Awake

66 Comments

The death at age 86 of Disney composer and lyricist Robert Sherman has served to remind people of a certain age that they grew up with a particular group of songs that are indelible. Including, but not limited to, It’s a Small World, I Want To Be Like You, and everything from the film Mary Poppins.

Sherman and his brother Richard wrote for a bunch of Disney films – familiar ones like The Jungle Book and Chitty Chitty Bang Bang, and movies you never heard of like The One And Only, Genuine, Original Family Band – a film about politics in 1888 and a musical Missouri family moving to the Black Hills. Yes, Robert Sherman and his brother wrote a song called “Oh, Benjamin Harrison.” Not every work by a genius turns out to be a work of genius.

The two Sherman Brothers did not get along with each other, though they occasionally tried to make it look as though they did. Both wrote lyrics and music, though it appears Robert was more drawn to the words. Lots of songs have been nominated as favorites in the past 24 hours. This is mine – for the clever contrast of words, music and intent.

Has reverse psychology worked for you? Or on you?

Uncategorized

Our Tremulous Moon

65 Comments

Here’s some evidence that things are not so sedate on the surface of our moon.
Photos from the latest gizmo to get a close look at our natural satellite reveal signs of geologic activity sometime within the last 50 million years. In other words, just yesterday. This and yesterday’s Super Tuesday results pretty much put a fork in former Speaker Gingrich’s chances to be our next President. Who wants to spend precious tax dollars building and traveling to Moon Base Newt when all the fun of leaping around in low-G could be ruined by a rolling Moonquake? Next thing you know we’ll discover the destructive tracks of an airless tornado. All the disadvantages of Earth and still nothing green? No thanks, Newt.

Photo from ASU/SI/NASA

But whether or not we ever go there to use it as a leaping off place, the moon will remain a beguiling bauble in our night sky – a maker of songs and silent witness to a trillion wishes. Who knew, during those times when we stood shivering in the moonlight, the moon itself might have been shaking too? Seismic activity is more charming at a safe distance. Now that we know it happens, perhaps exceptionally patient lovers will be able to see the lunar surface tremble.

Blue Moon, you saw me standing alone.
Without a dream in my heart.
Without a love of my own.

Blue Moon, how did you sense what I ache for?
A love I silently spake for.
Is that what you had a quake for?

And then suddenly there appeared above me
a crash of rocks and dust – a lunar din
I heard somebody whisper ‘Can you love me?”
and when I looked the moon had cracked a grin.

Blue Moon, now I’m no longer alone
without a dream in my heart
without a love of my own.

And it so COULD be our way station to Mars! Why, just tonight, in the eastern sky, the Blue Moon will be quite close to the mysterious Red Planet. Almost exactly the distance from one side to the other of your clenched fist when held at arms length.
Why couldn’t we just step across?

Sky Map from NASA

What to you like to look at in the night sky?

Uncategorized

Fail Mellow, Hell Wet

45 Comments

We’re still a few months away from the Walleye opener, but the ice fishing houses have come off the lakes (if they ever went on) and we’re in a strange lull between water surface activities. It’s possible that Congressman Loomis Beechly has been finishing a few of the leftover six packs that came off the ice with all that lightly used gear. I don’t know how else to explain the loopy tone of his latest missive to residents of the 9th District.

Greetings, Constituents!

Today is Super Tuesday! At least that’s what they tell me. I wouldn’t know – I like to say every day is super, but that’s because voters feel good about optimists and I feel good about votes! But I also really believe that every day IS super, which is convenient. In politics, things don’t always work out so neatly.

The experts say the results from today will help determine who is going to run for President this year in the Republican Party. Maybe it won’t be decisive moment, but it will be the kind of moment that has something to look at and talk about, and one that involves interesting characters and some suspense. What more do we want, really?

I might have over stated it when I said the characters are interesting. Of course I believe anyone willing to make a serious run for President of the United States is not a normal person. The job’s self-regard requirement goes far beyond the reach of average folks. Even narcissists know they are unqualified, because it isn’t nearly enough to be enthralled with yourself. You have to believe everybody else can find a way to love you too! Some would call that optimism, but I think it’s delusional thinking.

And voters share in the delusion. We want our supreme leaders to be approachable and “down to earth”. We want them to remember us, to be our buddies, to be the sort of person it would be fun “to have a beer with“. Or in the case of non-alcohol imbibing Mitt Romney, the sort of person you would like to have watch you from across the table while you enjoy a beer and he has a Diet Vanilla Coke.

But who has that kind of broad appeal? Heck, I’m not even the kind of person I’d like to have a beer with, most days. The only one who comes to mind when I think of the beer test is the actor George Clooney. He seems really likeable in that comfortable way that is best described by the phrase “Hail Fellow Well Met“, which is something I don’t really know the meaning of, but you get the idea.

Of course George isn’t running, but if he was I’d support him. It almost doesn’t matter what he says. He’s got that average guy thing going for him, even though he’s far above average in just about every category. I think if you added up the beer appeal of all the candidates in both parties you wouldn’t even get to a full Clooney on the Mail Wallow scale. Or Hail Fellow shale, I mean. Or scale.

But you get my drift. Politics is a funny business.

Anyway, this is probably something that we should definitely NOT send out, OK Marjorie? Just transcribe it and I’ll take a look at it in the morning. If I even remember dictating it, which I’m not even sure now that I did, or do.

Good night!

Your Congressman,

Loomis Beechly.

Hmm. Seems like someone was not paying full attention to a complicated task, but was just following procedure without really reading or understanding the text.

Name an elaborate chore you regularly perform without thinking.

Uncategorized

Loose Lips Sink Ships

70 Comments

Today’s post comes from Trail Baboon’s Living and Loving correspondent and a man who is a bottomless well of wellness – B. Marty Barry.

Greetings to all my friends struggling against the relentless currents of life. I’m here to grace you with my wisdom about your misguided choices. And it just so happens my topic today is very current – what happened to personal responsibility and accountability?

That’s the exact same question famous talker Rush Limbaugh asked in the middle of his apology to Sandra Fluke this weekend, although I hesitate to call anything an apology when it asks such a question and also includes a mini-lecture.

Oh, how I wish Rush would become a client of mine! Our counseling appointments would be sublime. He would talk and talk and talk, and he’s incredibly rich, so scheduling another few hours on the couch would be no problem for him. I would listen and nod and murmur and take notes. He would never ask for a response of any kind from me, so I could be as blunt and straightforward as I want in my personal session notes.

If he ever did ask for an opinion, I would have some at the ready.

For instance, on his apology:

Apologies should be brief. One should not try to explain one’s self in an apology –just take responsibility and express remorse. That’s it. Job done. The only question I can think of that might be part of a decent apology is “what was I thinking?”

And what about that personal responsibility thing? I know Rush was thinking about sexual behavior, but there’s a lot of responsibility involved in choosing words too. And he DID admit to making some poor choices there.

Unfortunately our society has come to a place where some people are rewarded for saying the first dumb word that comes to mind just because it feels humorous and clever and good. And sometimes that’s all it is – a wacky, impulsive, irresponsible choice.

But on certain occasions something happens and a dumb word takes root and begins to grow. And as it grows, it turns into a living thing that must be fed, even if it wants to eat your job. You can’t turn your back on that – you have to reckon with it.

And yet some of these same thrill seekers think they can undo their language mistakes by using word contraceptives like “I chose the wrong words” and “I did not mean a personal attack” and so forth, basically covering their earlier statements with a thin, transparent sheath of something that sounds like regret.

The success rate for this technique is, at best, mixed. And word contraceptives should always be used BEFORE speaking, not afterwards.

The consequences can be severe, so be cautious when you feel the urge to start playing with words! Be discreet and take personal responsibility for what you say, especially when it comes to words about sex, because things can go south pretty rapidly.

And I probably shouldn’t have said it that way.

Time’s up! I think we got a lot done today. And please remember that although I’ve never met you, I do care about you very, very, very much.

What makes for an effective apology?

The Baboon Congress

G.O.A.T.LING(go)

109 Comments

Today’s guest post comes from Barbara in Robbinsdale.

It’s time, Babooners, for the next round of additions to our Glossary of Accepted Terms, or G.O.A.T.. Every so often the bin gets full, and it has been a particularly rich half year since we last did this. At some point they will be added to the already existing Glossary “up top”. This time I left in the dates, because it really is fun to find out what in the heck was going on that produced the entries.

About a horse apiece – Close to equal, as in: “with regard to red vs white quinoa, I’d say it was about a horse apiece. Both are good and I couldn’t taste that one was better than the other.” February 12, 2012

Alpha Baboon – DC, or Dale Connelly, as in “I am thankful for Trail Baboons and the friends here as well as our Alpha Baboon, DC.” November 23, 2011

Baviaansverwisseling [from the Dutch words “baviaans” (baboon), and “persoonsverwisseling” (mistaken identity)] – attributing something (i.e. a blog post) to the wrong Babooner. September 20, 2011

Cheek turnee – the recipient of the compassionate act of turning the other cheek, as in: “many of us can recall being the cheek turner but very few cheek turnees.” January 9, 2012

Emotional hangover – a state of mind “that only mashed potatoes can address,” sometimes following a day in which a community has lost one of its favorite members, i.e. Tom Keith. November 2, 2011

Etiquette – …”a lubricant that allows people of all sorts to interact without friction.” October 3, 2011

Feisties – Baboon mothers who are extraordinarily resilient, strong, or tenacious. “Great mothers, Tim, Caroline and Sue; a trio of Feisties.” February 16, 2012

Flaming extrovert – an extremely gregarious Baboon, as in “Being a flaming extrovert, however, pretty much guarantees a good time and with 21 nightclubs on this monster ship…” January 26, 2012

Forgetful-compulsive – a new personality disorder, coined by the Alpha Baboon, in which the patient has both memory and control issues, exemplified by the following: “I forgot that last week I had scheduled Steve’s post to publish today, and then yesterday I compulsively wrote a new one of my own.” February 28, 2012

Gemutliche – Warm friendliness; amicability – snug, cozy, comfortable… Descriptions of a special cat. November 11, 2011

Inert – a particularly inactive level of activity in a person, i.e., “I took Latin in high school…I rather enjoyed it even though the teacher was somewhat inert.” September 20, 2011

Line camarerie – what happens when like minded people stand in line together for an extended time. “I love line camraderie when it breaks out.” November 12, 2011

Mondegreen – mis-heard lyrics to a song, as in: “They had slain the Earl of Moray/And Lady Mondegreen” instead of …”And Laid Him on the Green.” Sept. 16, 2011

Oxford comma – the final comma preceding “and” in a list, lovingly used by a number of Baboons. January 26, 2012

Pancake of glory – one way of leaving the planet (esp. involving a falling piece of an Upper Air Research Satellite), as in: “Let it land here. I am ready to go out in a pancake of glory.” September 22, 2011

Poemizing – creating poetry, or a reasonable facsimile thereof, on the Baboon Trail; as in: “Nice poemizing, DC and Tim.” February 2, 2012

Rock Bend Folk Festival – a FREE music festival in St. Peter the weekend after Labor Day, to which the Baboon Krista in Waterville devotes a good portion of her August (and maybe July). February 21, 2012

Rush Baboonbaugh – a spokesperson that would defend the rights of Baboons, probably in an outspoken manner. February 13, 2012

Snarky snort – a snort with a devilish little “heh-heh” to it. January 7, 2012

Tortured Acronym Rule – putting up to three extraneous letters in an acronym to come up with a better word, i.e., “SWIFT is short for Statewide Integrated Financial Tools… although “Statewide” may be one word, it’s almost two words, and we like the acronym SWIFT better than SIFT, so we’re going to invoke the Tortured Acronym Rule.” December 13, 2011

trailing preposition, trailing apology : What’s a trailing preposition? “thats a preposition you do while you are here on the trail i presuppose but heck thats ok you can do anything here on the trail. you dont need to leave no dang trailing apologies.” February 2, 2012

Typhonic winds of their own psychosis – in the realm of worrying: “Usually, there comes a point of ridiculousness where the person comes to realize how nutty they’re being. And, if not, at the very least, it’s entertaining watching them twist in the typhonic winds of their own psychosis.” September 22, 2011

Wasband – A person whowas one’s husband. Frequently used with glee at the past tense involved. (Not to be confused with Washboard.) February 8, 2012

Acronyms:

BuRP – Baboon Relocation Project (See Tortured Acronym Rule) January 10, 2012

IYCSSNTDSAAA – If You Can’t Say Something Nice Then Don’t Say Anything At All February 2, 2012

Pr³ – pressing priority predicament October 11, 2011

s&h – son and heir, esp. madislandgirl’s son and heir.

TWHQ – World Headquarters of the Trail Baboon Blog, as in: “it will all be worth it, just to say ‘I eat what they eat at TWHQ’ ”. January 13, 2012

When, if ever, do you use a dictionary or other reference? Paper or Digital?

The Baboon Congress

Fowl Ball

91 Comments

Today’s guest post comes from Ben.

This just in:  

The chicken / duck / guinea population on our farm has officially spun out of control.
I’m not sure how this happened. Exact numbers are hard to come by, but here’s what I know we have:

14 Ducks of various breeds
20 some-odd Guineas
10 (or 13) pearl (maybe 15!)
4 light gray
11 white
43 Chickens (I think)

That makes roughly Eighty two fowl. Eighty two is too many, that’s for sure.

When birds of a feather get together, there’s often a bully in the group and there is always a disturbance going on. But not this time. They all get along so well, in spite of their different backgrounds and personalities!

The fourteen ducks are a mix of breeds; some mallards, a couple Indian Runner and a few cross-breeding results including the tall brown headed one with the white neck in this picture.

That’s Patrick. He was the duck hatched by a chicken and being all alone I put a Sponge Bob plush toy in the pen with him. (Patrick is Sponge Bob’s best friend in the TV show).

The Mallard ducks I got from the local Tractor Supply Company store this spring. They actually do fly but they know this is home so they don’t migrate. But how neat it must be to hang out on the ground with their other duck friends and then, just every so often, take off and make expanding circles around the farm. And then they circle back in and land and settle down again. Now that’s perspective.

Guineas are native of Africa. I suspect they’re always cold here in the winter. We’ve had guinea fowl for several years; pretty much since we started raising chickens. A neighbor told me if I thought I was going to have trouble with fox or coyotes or raccoons getting my chickens then, I should get guineas because they can fly a bit and get away from varmints. And they eat ticks.

I ordered 30 guinea chicks this spring; a variety of breeds. And for some reason this bunch is just calm and friendly. There were two older ones around and of course at first they had to establish their pecking order, but once that was done, calm all around. And they mix right in with the ducks and chickens. And this group isn’t so psychotic as they are sometimes, so it’s kinda nice.

By the way, guineas are indifferent mothers. They’ll lay a clutch of 20 or 30 eggs, the first 5 or 6 hatch and momma gets up and walks away. And the babies can’t ever keep up. So they’ll only survive if I happen to hear them and intervene. Or find a nest and put the eggs in an incubator. I’ve said it before, the real world is a tough place for baby animals.

About the chickens –  We seemed to have enough chickens last spring so I didn’t order any chicks. Although a momma chicken raised 5 of them in a side pen. And put a bunch of eggs in the incubator so they arrived at the same time as the guinea chicks and we got nine more from that.

Everyone seems to be comfortable with their status and company they keep. High scores all around for sociability and variety, but there’s one thing missing.

Productivity.

Sixty some chickens I’m getting 8 eggs a day.  Hmmmm, what’s wrong with this ratio?? I think it’s costing me $5 per egg when you factor in feed, water, electricity and heat lamps. Maybe they’ve forgotten there’s work to do.

What’s the secret to getting along with your neighbors?

Uncategorized

String of Lights

76 Comments

I would be a terrible astronaut and a complete waste of oxygen on the International Space Station because I’d always be looking out the window at things like this, courtesy of NASA.

The Eastern Seaboard at Night.

NASA says: Boston is just out of frame at right. Long Island and the New York City area are visible in the lower right quadrant. Philadelphia and Pittsburgh are near the center. Parts of two Russian vehicles parked at the orbital outpost are seen in left foreground.

Just imagine all the stuff going on down there. And think about what it takes to keep all those lights on. In case you’re still questioning what’s what, here’s another view:

A couple of things come to mind.

I can see where Philadelphia is near the center along the corridor of light that stretches from sparkling New York City down to the glimmer that is Washington D.C., but Pittsburgh is on the western side of Pennsylvania. So if Pittsburgh is the somewhat dimmer blob just above the center point of the photo, those farther flung smudges are probably Erie, Toronto, Columbus, Cleveland, and maybe even Detroit.

Here’s the other thing – the sure knowledge that two Russian space vehicles were over the Eastern Seaboard at Night would had had us all hiding in the fallout shelter 50 years ago. Today we look at those Russian orbiters and think how cool they seem in the lovely blue light. Back then, of course, the light would have been bright red, and Kruschev would have been gleefully pounding his shoe on the table.

Now, it’s merely a captivating vista.

Where is the window that you could gaze through for hours?