The Baboon Congress

Family Heirlooms

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Today’s guest blog comes from Jim.

As a seed saver I am dedicated to collecting, maintaining, and passing on seeds of vegetables and other plants that are rare and in danger of being lost. In the past, many families knew how to save and pass on seeds that they valued from one generation to another. This tradition is dying out. The Seed Savers Exchange (www.seedsaversexchange.org ) and other groups are making an effort to get the public more involved in seed saving. Saving the stories that are connected to seeds is considered by many seed savers to be as important as the seeds themselves.

I asked my Uncle Jake if he had any seeds that came from my Grandfather. He did have a jar of very old seed for a flat Dutch green bean that my Grandparents would slice up and make into a homemade product similar to sauerkraut. Unfortunately this seed was too old and wouldn’t germinate. Then I learned that my Uncle was willing to share some seed he had saved for many years. I am now growing and saving seed from a tomato and a bean that my Uncle got from his German neighbor. The tomato has fairly large, sweet, pink colored fruit that resembles some other tomatoes that originated in Germany. I call this tomato, Jake’s, in honor of my Uncle.

The bean is a very large white dry bean, which I call Large Navy. I like the bean because it came from my Uncle and because I haven’t seen another exactly like it. My cousin told me that this bean was used in cooking by my Uncle’s parents and I am looking forward using it myself. I gave my Uncle a copy of the Seed Saver’s Yearbook where my listing of the seeds I got from him is published. My cousin told me that his father would probably frame the Yearbook pages with those listings and hang them on the wall.

My Aunt Ida preserved a rose that came from my Grandmother. This is a large, very hardy, old fashion, pink rose. My Aunt told me that my Grandmother said the rose is an Austrian perfume rose. My Aunt also said that you couldn’t necessarily believe everything that my Grandmother had to say! I very much appreciate my Aunt’s sense of humor and somewhat sarcastic stories. She doesn’t hold back from speaking her mind and will say some things that might be a little offensive to some people and which I find to be very entertaining. She has some other stories I treasure about my Grandmother which are very funny and not entirely respectful.

Do you know any “heirloom” stories about your ancestors?

The Baboon Congress

Perhaps I Didn’t Make Myself Clear …

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Today’s guest blog is by Beth-Ann.

I pride myself in my ability to explain things both complex and simple. After all I have successfully explained alpha thalassemia major in Hmong and can go on (and on) about the likely association of immunoreactive trypsinogen to spontaneous intestinal perforation in extremely premature infants.

Why then does my family not always understand what I say?

After college graduation my parents left me in charge of the younger kids when they went abroad. They also left my college-age sister as an assistant since I was working full-time. One night I explained that the following night’s dinner would be a family favorite-chicken pot pie. I prepared all the constituents as my mother always did. I reviewed the assembly with my sister. “Just put the chicken, the sauce, and the vegetables in this pan, and cover it with the crust,” I said with great patience to my sister who wasn’t exactly a domestic goddess. When I asked if she had any questions, her response left me speechless. With all sincerity she said, “Can I leave the vegetables in the can or do I have to take them out?”……I picked up dinner at McDonald’s rather than risk eating her preparation.

Fast forward many years to when my son was in first grade. Because of his bone disease and frequent fractures he didn’t often dress himself. There were, however several days when I had the flu and a high fever and since he could walk I would send him to his room with instructions to put on clean underwear and the pants and shirt I had put out for him.
On the 3rd day I looked up from my delirium and noticed that his leg looked much more crooked than I had remembered it. I had hope that the giant bend in his femur was just a fever-induced illusion. I arranged to meet his physical therapist when she came to school that day to see Scott. The three of us went to the bathroom to slip off the sweatpants and look at his leg. I was surprised to see that my son was wearing 3 pairs of underpants. His response has become a family classic for failure to follow directions-“You didn’t say to take them off before I put on the clean ones.”

When did the message not get through?

The Baboon Congress

Leonard … It’s Over! – Steve

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Today’s guest blog is by Anna.

Seeing this message written in the snow, carefully laid out by someone adept enough to leap to the right spot to start the next letter, you can tell this is a message sent with care. A message with a story; a story one might find an obvious start to, given that this missive is directly below the heart-shaped “M+S.” But that seems too trite. Frankly, I think the “M+S” is there as a clever bit of misdirection. Here is what I think led up to the note in the snow:

Tomorrow is the last one, better do it right. One final job for Leo, then I’m on to the next adventure. Small thing, should be an easy acquisition. Not my favorite, but the price is right and a body does have bills to pay. It is amazing what people are willing to shell out to have me do the dirty work of getting something; high pay for challenging procurements. I am just a well-paid expeditor and shipper, a liberator of information and doodads.

And monkeys. Why did this last one have to be a monkey? Monkeys are noisy, foul and they steal my fruit. Last time I had a gig with a monkey he sat on my fedora, left scat on the top of the piano and tried to have his way with my Chewbacca doll. I wish I weren’t so good with monkeys. Small monkey, Leo said, a marmoset. A marmoset with a penchant for ping pong, killer skills mixing a dry martini, and other “unnamed” abilities the client wants. Stick him in your pocket and you’re good to go, Leo says. With something that tiny and my big duster coat to hide it, it should be an easy move from the lab to the meet up. Good thing I’m not a gin drinker or it might be tempting to keep this one around, just for kicks.

Dad said I should have become a dentist. Mom was hoping for an MBA. Four years of cultural anthropology and another two at chef’s school and I’m stuck ferrying bar tending monkeys for cash.

Focus. Get the goods, write a note in the melting snow, and get the final payment. Leave Leo to the foul play without me from now on. This is the last time, Mom, I promise. Your little Stevie starts grad school Monday.

Ever send a coded message?

The Baboon Congress

Trying One On

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Today’s guest blog is by Clyde..

I will not be joining you on The Trail today.

Instead I will begin the process of moving our stuff, much too much stuff, to our new home, or as Thoreau described it, pushing my possessions down the road ahead of me. Fortunately it is only a 2.5 mile push from a 1600-square-foot ground-level association home to a 1200-square-foot ground-level apartment. For the next three days I will haul over boxes. Then the pros will haul our furniture on Thursday. “Why are you moving?” everyone asks, since it does not seem like much of a change. Not many seem to like our answers. After all, we are giving up home ownership, the Great American Dream.

Most of our reasons are not worth your time to explain, but one I would like to offer especially to you because I think Babooners, unlike almost everyone else, will understand it. You, see, we want to try on a new life style. I admit it is not much of a change, but it depends on how you, or rather we, look at it. And, alas, it as much of a change as we can manage at this point in our life. For six years we tried living in an association, Efrafa as I have called it on here, which is not as bad as I have hinted, but does not suit us. We imagine a freer life, with a bit more ready cash and predictable expenses and no maintenance responsibilities. My wife, the addicted viewer of HGTV, will have a new blank canvas to decorate.

The real challenge will be for both of us to envision and use this new space and location—plus our money, time, and creativity—to think in new ways about ourselves, our place in church and community, and our limited time on earth.

Thoreau in Walden explained that in his imagination he had owned every farm in the vicinity. He had organized each farm in turn, tilled it, planted it, and harvested it without the bother of actually owning it. Similarly my wife and I have often tried on other life styles in our imagination: renting an apartment in one of those old buildings on Grand Avenue or in Dinkytown, teaching in a rural Alaska village, owning a hobby farm, spending a year living only from a small motor-home and driving North America, flipping houses, or going to seminary together. Because my favorite reading topic is travel books and books about what it is like to live a different kind of life somewhere else, I have in my imagination lived hundreds of lives.

I believe Babooners will understand my explanation because so many of you have deliberately crafted a life style, whether in rural Carlton County, in south Minneapolis, western Dakota, or all the places and ways you live.

My question for you is simple:

What other life styles have you lived in your imagination?

The Baboon Congress

Post Thurgery* Survival

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Today’s guest blog is by Barbara in Robbinsdale.

* Husband had open heart surgery on a Thursday in late January.

Please note – I am able to poke fun at this experience because:

a. There was no impediment to my staying home to nurse Husband. I can’t imagine the experience if he’d had to stay in, say, a nursing home …

b. Surgery was successful; Husband experienced no complications, and came through with flying colors.

c. It’s how I processed this one.

1. Visitors – Expect the unexpected; be prepared for anything. Some people won’t want to come anywhere near even a diagram of what happened to Patient. Others will enter with “Hey, can I see your scar?” the first thing out of their mouths.
Have a place cleared somewhere for flowers.

2. We may laugh at those airy little hospital gowns, but for a while Patient needs clothing that you can easily get on and off him/her. Hospital did not send a gown home with you, but you can fashion your own by taking one of Patient’s soft old t-shirts, slicing it up the back with a pair of scissors, and adding a safety pin. It won’t be as long as the hospital variety, so you’ll probably need to have Patient wear a robe over it, especially for visitors!

3. Pillows – Gather every pillow you have (and aren’t you glad you didn’t give half of them to Goodwill?) into a big pile near Patient’s bed. You don’t have a hospital bed anymore with the convenient push buttons. Every size of pillow you own will be enlisted at some point as Patient sits up, tries to sleep slightly reclined, and eats in bed.

4. Accept anything and everything people offer. This is not the time to practice Minnesota Nice: you don’t say, “Oh, no, you don’t need to do that” the first two times and accept on the third. You say “Yes, thanks!” the moment it’s out of their mouths, before they can change their minds.
(This IS hard to do all this accepting without immediately being able to reciprocate. When time allows, you will write thank you notes (even if some are by email). And when the tables are turned, you will reciprocate. If it makes you feel better, you can start planning now what food you will bring to them sometime.)

5. Alter your parameters about what constitutes a proper meal. With any luck you will have many meals given to you by kind, understanding friends and relatives. You will only have to supply, perhaps, a salad. See Illustration on left for a perfectly adequate salad.

6. Cleaning – If it’s big enough to endanger you or Patient, pick it up and toss it out of harm’s way. Everything else can wait. Keep in mind, though: a large enough dust bunny can be slippery.

7. It helps if you’ve kept a few toys from your kids’ childhoods, particularly that robotic arm “grabber thingy”, which Patient can use to reach things. Also a toy flute or recorder or kazoo (anything more pleasant sounding than a shrill whistle) by which Patient can summon you when you’re downstairs.

8. Self care – If you don’t get outside soon, you’ll go bonkers and then there will be two Patients and no Nurse. So enlist help from friends and relatives (anyone owe you a favor?) – preferably people whom Patient likes and trusts – to come in for a couple of hours at a time and relieve you.
Go get a massage, or see your chiropractor; stop at your favorite coffee shop and read something you don’t have time to read at home. Each time you go out will be easier, as you learn to trust that Patient will survive without you there.

9. Ego – You had one once; you’ll get it back again. For the first few days home, however, you won’t be needing it. This experience is an “ego-buster”. Whatever you had in mind for this week of your life can wait (even that newly re-discovered guitar). In fact, a lot of things can wait for a few of weeks, or even months. Your concept of What’s Important has just been radically altered. Patient needs you. Now. It’s a little like having a newborn, except that Patient will TELL you exactly what s/he wants and needs.

10. Although it may seem like there isn’t time, take some time now and then to just lie down next to Patient and listen to something like Dark Side of the Moon – some music that is meaningful to both of you. You’ll be amazed at how soothing this is.

What care giving and/or receiving wisdom would you add to the list?

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R.I.P. Arthur Hoehn

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Public radio audiences lost an old friend this week when Arthur Hoehn passed on, his life cut short by lung cancer.

Much has been made of his status as MPR’s first full time, professional announcer, and I suppose that’s an important detail. To be the first one in the door just ahead of a vast and distinguished crowd is a meaningful bit of timing, but Art Hoehn would have stood out had been the tenth one hired, or the two hundred and tenth.

For many years he was the overnight host, happily working a shift that most dread. While everyone else was asleep, Arthur would be gliding around the radio station in his slippers and sometimes his bathrobe, turning off lights to save energy and flipping over the accordion-fold paper after it had already chunk-chunked through newsroom teletype once, feeding it through again so the blank side could be put to use.

For lazy young journalists it meant you had to check the date on your copy. Coming in first thing in the morning to throw together a newscast, there’s a 50/50 chance the item you’re about to read on the air is three days old, even though it’s still warm from the machine. Take a look at the other side and say thanks to Mr. Hoehn for conserving the resources.

Arthur was the perfect companion for insomniacs and others whose internal clocks put them at odds with the world. Though I’m sure he could do it, he wasn’t the sort of announcer who would dazzle you with a sharp, sparkling monolog. Mr. Hoehn took his time. And face it, if you’re listening to a classical station at 3 am, chances are you’re not there for the energetic pacing. You’re in need of companionship, and Arthur was ready to abide with you.

He was the disc jockey who would be content to stare out the window as you both watched snow fall through the lonely beam of a streetlight. Today’s listeners are deprived of the eerie sensation of tuning in to a station to hear the sound of someone … um … thinking. He gave us deliciously long pauses – a rarity in radio but surprisingly effective as an attention-getting device. “What’s going on?” you wonder. An intake of breath. Another long pause. “Is he going to speak?”

Probably. What’s your hurry?

For all the forms of media we have at our disposal today and the 24/7 streams of programming that flood out of our computers, there are few places where gentle soul is given an open microphone and license to allow his stream of consciousness to meander. For a significant number of years, Art created that sort of comfortable space for his listeners. As one of the announcers who followed him to open up the next “day part”, I was grateful for his easygoing presence. No matter the type of work you do, it’s harder to get started when you’ve just walked into a space that’s cold and dark.

With Arthur Hoehn on duty, there was always a warm spirit in the house.

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Accomplished Strangers

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Yesterday, while waiting for a bus, I struck up a conversation with a pleasant fellow who let me know in no uncertain terms that he had played a role in the ouster of Panamanian dictator Manuel Noriega back in 1989.

Of course this came up as we were talking about the weather.

I mentioned how it was finally going to hit 50 and he observed that Panama is hotter. Within moments he had the embassy surrounded and was playing heavy metal at peak volume in an attempt to force out el Presidente.

The bus came before the story was complete and I didn’t think it would be smart to follow him to his seat to get the rest. Even a former intelligence officer has to show some discretion. I had already forced him to reveal precious details through my clever climate-directed questioning, and there’s no way to safely discuss covert ops on the 825 into downtown Minneapolis. At least there’s no way to do it where you’ll FEEL safe.

After I spent more time than I wanted to thinking about Manuel Noriega, it occurred to me that we probably stand next to strangers each and every day who have done things that we would find utterly amazing and perhaps unbelievable, if we only knew.

After all, astronauts go to the grocery store to get milk out of the same case we do. Diplomats, crisis negotiators and brain surgeons stand in line behind us when we’re picking up fast food French fries. Billionaires go to movies. Great actors and brilliant inventors stop to hold the door for us and we hardly notice it. But it would be impractical and impolite to try to draw a biography out of every person you encounter.

I was waiting for my wife to pick me up at the airport a few weeks ago when Joe Mauer came out, loaded down with baggage, and stood alongside. He seemed like he wanted to strike up a conversation with me but then thought better of it, realizing that I’m probably tired of making small talk with strange admirers.

It’s true, I am. But for him I would have made an exception.

How close have you stood to greatness?

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The Other Shoe Drops

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Spin Williams, noted visionary and dealmaker, is always trying to stay ahead of the curve when it comes to trends and unusual events. From his all-seeing perch as permanent chair of The Meeting That Never Ends, Spin has identified several stories that indicate … something.

Hi Trendwatchers!

The whole world is interconnected! Everything that happens has an effect somewhere else – the key to wealth, power and success is in knowing where to look for another shoe to drop! Everybody’s watching the big stories for just this sort of cause / effect relationship. Here at The Meeting That Never Ends, we’ve got our eye on a few of the smaller ones, looking for three things – moments of realization, the trend indicator, and the next story.

One word of advice, young man – Meatballs!

I love the IDEA of TV dinners – a quick meal in a foil tray, just a few squirts of food product with brown gravy and a little apple cobbler on the side and I’m good to go. And of course there are upscale and specialty versions of the same basic approach. But just this week, Nestle had to recall some of their “Lean Cuisine” frozen spaghetti and meatball dinners.

“Nestle is taking this action after a few consumers reported they had found red plastic in the meatball portion of the entrée,” said a company statement. The recall applies to dinners that were manufactured during a one hour period last October.

Moment of Realization – We eat October meatballs in March. TV dinners are Old Food!

Trend Indicator – in the future, look for “freshness dating” on frozen foods to allow picky microwave gourmands to assure themselves their meal was assembled in the same calendar year they’re planning to consume it.

The Next Story – We discover that spaghetti and meatball frozen dinners are made on the same assembly line as plastic furniture. Look for consumer complaints that the bin holding all the My Little Ponies seems to be held in place with dried spaghetti sauce and a strange meat-like substance.

Honest, it was like that when I took it out!

Publishers and libraries are arguing over e-book check-out policies.

Moment of Realization – Libraries loan out e-books! You don’t even have to go there to pick them up and the book automatically deletes itself from your e-reader when the due date arrives. This is awful news for people suffering from CLBDS (Compulsive Library Book Defacing Syndrome). How can you tear the cover off and scribble your crazy theories in the margins of a borrowed e-book?

Trend Indicator – Expect a new App (Librarian’s Nightmare?) that makes it possible to scrawl comments across the pages of borrowed e-books, with a special toolkit for drawing moustaches and antennae on the author’s dust jacket photo.

The Next Story – Borrowed e-books that delete themselves gradually, starting with the first chapter and continuing with 10 – 20 pages slipping into oblivion each day, a technique to “chase” tardy readers through the book.

A Jack LaLanne Terrier

And finally, a new study finds that dog owners get more exercise than people who don’t have dogs. It seems that a dog’s hunger for a daily walk, combined with That Look they give you, is enough to get some sedentary folks off the couch.

Moment of Realization – Fido is my Personal Trainer!

Trend Indicator – Look for a new Weight Loss Reality Show where the human contestants are harangued, berated, cajoled, prodded and humiliated by beautiful and incessantly demanding Golden Retrievers.

The Next Story – PETA files class action suit on behalf of fat dogs, complaining that they could be slim and healthy if only their slothful human companions would learn to take a hint. Whimpering and looking at the leash with Big Brown Eyes should be more than enough!

I’m not saying all these things will happen, but remember – if they do, you heard it here first! And if they don’t, what do you expect? Nobody can see into the future!

– Spin Williams

Ever been at the leading edge of a trend?

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Et tu, Dr. Babooner!

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Dear Dr. Babooner,

Things have gone pretty well for me lately. After some unpleasantness at work, I’ve emerged the victor of a messy power struggle. People in the office seem to really, really like me. They’ve been saying I should be King, and while our management chart doesn’t include that specific position, I know they’re right. Still, I’ve been humble about it. It’s better, at times, not to appear overly ambitious. And it would just be a title anyway. I’ve already got the power.

Anyway, there’s this woman in the office … Sue Thayer.
She distributes the mail. I run across her every now and then, stuffing envelopes into the mailboxes by the coffee maker. Lately, whenever she sees me, she blurts out “Beware the Ides of March”. I usually make some joke and walk on, but she gives me this weird goggle-eye look.

Today I saw her and to lighten the mood I said, “The Ides of March have come!”

“Aye,” she said, “but not gone.”

That was freaky. Who says “Aye” anymore, except those geeks who want everybody to observe “Talk Like a Pirate Day”?

So I’ve started to worry. She has ready access to all the letter openers down in the mailroom, and those things can be pretty sharp. Dr. Babooner, should I report her to the HR department? Since I’m the most powerful person in the company, I’m certain they’d fire her.

But somehow, I still wouldn’t feel safe.

Dick Tator

I told Mr. Tator he’s right to be concerned. His position at the top of the hierarchy puts him in a delicate spot. If he complains about the woman and it leads to her dismissal, there might be court action since there’s no indication she’s neglecting her duties. Still, one cannot afford to ignore strange, potentially threatening behavior, or the earnest advice of a Sue Thayer.
I told him he should take a vacation. Immediately.
Egypt is hungry for tourists right now, and there’s always Italy.
But that’s just one opinion.
What do YOU think, Dr. Babooner?

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Einstein’s Birthday

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This is the anniversary of Albert Einstein’s birth. The Nobel Prize winner entered space-time in 1879. Here’s a nice photo of him that proves there’s a place for smart people in radio.

He was a brilliant physicist and a famous introvert, saying:

“My passionate interest in social justice and social responsibility has always stood in curious contrast to a marked lack of desire for direct association with men and women. I am a horse for single harness, not cut out for tandem or team work. I have never belonged wholeheartedly to country or state, to my circle of friends, or even to my own family. These ties have always been accompanied by a vague aloofness, and the wish to withdraw into myself increases with the years.”

OK, apparently Einstein was not the life of the party, though he did enjoy music and jokes. So for the wild-haired Doctor, born so close to St. Patrick’s Day, a birthday limerick that may mis-interpret the theory of relativity:

Albert Einstein knew more than you know.
And he loved to go out to a show.
When he started to dance,
in his short smarty-pants,
He’d get younger the faster he’d go.

Actually he wouldn’t get younger, but he’d age more slowly as he approached the speed of light. I think. The notion of getting younger may come from an episode of Star Trek. That distinction, however, does not fit comfortably into the last line of this limerick, so I ignored it. Once again, accuracy is sacrificed to the demands of art!

Ever change the facts to improve a story?