Je suis Charlie

If you  love freedom and liberty, you are "Charlie" too. The horror has subsided, but will never go away and French and international police are on the case. The 3 men and one woman have been identified, the men killed, the woman escaped. 
And at home here in America, the new congress is changing the plan to gut the TSA and NSA and now are soundly and loudly behind heightened security. Oh, and still harping on the President's immigration policies as dangerous and ineffective. Oh sure, we should all be worried about a roving band of Mexican terrorists butchering our lawn or roof. What morons. but I digress.
The attacks in Paris cut to the heart of the freedom of the Western democratic countries. And we must be very careful not to yield even more freedom in the name of security. We are probably the safest population in the hemisphere and possible in the entire free world. We have a fine federal, state and local policing capacity. We have a well-armed citizenry. We have excellent border control, unless you lose sleep at night worrying that a 6 foot tall bearded Arab will pass for a Guatemalan. 
But, and a big but, we also have a very open society. No shotgun wielding guards at our banks and malls. No "where are your papers" road stops entering and leaving towns and cities. 
Yet. Yet we are vulnerable at every level. And we have had many terrorist attacks in the last few years. Schools, business, homes, public events and even military bases have been attacked. By home grown terrorists. 
So we are not immune or exempt. We will be hit again and again by both foreign and domestic terrorists. 
WE MUST NEVER YIELD TO THE TEMPTATION TO WITHDRAW INTO A FALSE SENSE OF SECURITY BY GIVING UP OUR FREEDOMS. NEVER. GIVE. IN.
We collectively mourn the journalists who die in the pursuit of news for us. For the commentators who die giving us perspective. And for the police who protect them and us. But WE MUST NEVER YIELD TO THE TEMPTATION TO WITHDRAW. NEVER. GIVE. IN. 

Image: http://akfreedomfighters.files.wordpress.com/2012/07/never-give-in.jpg?w=300&h=225

Old Tortoise and Little A Have a Talk

A Hill Much Like the Burial Place in the Valley

Years have gone by since the boy called “Little A” left the Valley for his own life. He often thought about all his friends there, most, he was sure, would be buried on the hilltop in the woods. He was sad, but one thing made his reminiscing happy: He had become brothers with his friend Rabbit, and so also to all the other animals in the Valley. And since then, he had never lost the ability to talk to animals. Even now, a grandfather himself, he could surprise mice and deer and birds and even snakes (although they were hard to understand) with a comment or observation on their fur or feathers. He had never again had an Animal Good Friend though.

Little A was a very successful Doctor of Veterinary Medicine and the chairman of a Major School of Veterinary Science. He held several patents on drugs and appliances that saved many animals lives, and he was modestly wealthy as a result.

One day he decided to see if the Valley was still there, and drove overnight to see it. It was much the same. He walked over the meadow, kept in condition by grazing animals, and walked to the burial hill. He sat beside the old tree and quietly remembered all his friends, and hoped they lived happy lives and died peacefully. He nodded off, and was awakened by a voice saying “Well Well. Who have we here? Hmmmm? Could it be Little A?” He looked around and saw an ancient Tortoise looking up at him. “Old Tortoise? Could it be you?” “Yep, it is indeed me. The last survivor of the years when you were truly ‘Little’. What brings you back after all these years?”

Little A told him of his life and successes, and Old Tortoise told Little A of the Valley. And the Threat. A developer was trying to buy the entire Valley to turn into a housing development. Old Tortoise had figured that out from the surveyors and sales people. Little A told the old man that he would see if he could help, said goodbye and walked quickly to his car. Well, he found the owners, an old couple who needed the money for medical expenses, and offered to buy the property for more than the asking price, and turn it into a Nature Preserve. They said yes on the spot.

Two weeks later a new sign replaced the “For Sale” sign

. The new sign simply said “Valley Nature Preserve.  Free access to all who want to preserve nature and wildlife. No activates that might endanger the Valley or the inhabitants permitted. Please Respect this Wonderful Place.”

That evening Little A once again sat on the hill with Old Tortoise. But this time there were hundreds of other animals crowded around, all trying to get a look at him, or for the bolder ones, touching him. He told them about the Preserve and called them “Brothers”. And when he left, he took the tortoise aside and told him that he had made arrangements for his ashes to be scattered around the hilltop. And eventually they were.

Image: https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi80gTHWrKNmq4AiwVEn60fvLk9s2kM2XXlZ6mlHB3RtPWGL-RW0ukfs51zUEUPW91L2p6NJFPkfFdqhLpl5oO3NnIJKqj6u4uS0RtHRL6aMtlVfbpHu6acX2wD3AZpbpFI54cxX1Bo5P4/s1600/DSCF2589.JPG

Fire in the Valley

Tiny Stone for Mouse - Friend of All

Little A ran out into the burned out meadow with great worry for his friend Rabbit. The fire had scorched the ground but went out at the edge of the woods so the damage was limited. As he approached the woods, Little A noticed an old Tortoise slowly walking into the wood, followed by of all things a family of possums, some snakes, some cotton rats and many other animals. He was greatly relieved to spot Rabbit in the crowd and waved him over. “Rabbit! I was so worried about you. The fire moved fast. Are you OK?” “Yes” said Rabbit. “I can run faster than most fires and most animals. But my friend Mouse wasn’t so lucky”. Rabbit then told Little A the tale of Mouse, how she had saved 17 babies and then died from her burns. “Little A? We are all going to help bury Mouse and support her family. Would you like to come along?” “I have never been to a funeral before” said Little A,” but I would like to help her family if I can.” “I don’t know what a “funeral” is, but when one of our Valley friends dies, we bury them in a special place and help their family and friends through the bitter times. Since you don’t know the other animals, you probably should stay back and try to be quiet (not so easy for a human).

And so the new friends followed the others to the burial place, a place on a shady hilltop where quiet and peace seemed to fill the air. “This would be my choice for a grave if I could choose” thought Little A. Badger had already dug a mouse-size hole in the earth and Mouse was gently put into it by her family. Each animal scratched a little soil into the hole and said a few words about Mouse. She was remembered for her quietness, kindness, good weaving and general helpfulness. Little A was surprised that no one mentioned the fire, the babies or her sacrifice. So he stood tall and said “Ummmm. I would like to say something if I may.” There was a shocked silence around the grave, and some nervousness as well. Badger, notorious for leaving his glasses behind said “WHO SAID THAT???” in a fierce voice. Rabbit quickly stood up and explained that Little A was a boy he had met who could talk to animals. His grandfather then quickly added that the boy’s father was the human who had shared so many hours with the elders, listening and telling tales. Tortoise agreed, and added that this human would be a very special friend to the animals in the Valley, and would soon be “one of us”. That perplexed everyone. Badger said “Speak Boy, But Make it Short. Looks like Rain to me.”

Little A then said “I didn’t know Mouse at all. I heard her story from my friend Rabbit and from all of you. I didn’t want her to go to her grave without someone telling of her self-sacrifice and bravery. So I will.” And he did.

Many, many years later, Little A was wealthy enough to buy the entire Valley and turn it into a Nature Preserve. No one who had been to Mouse’s burial except the Old Tortoise was alive by then, so when he muttered to himself “Told you he was special” nobody knew what he was talking about. But he knew, and that was enough for an Old Tortoise.

Image: (this stone can be purchased at) https://img1.etsystatic.com/000/0/5708276/il_340x270.325975135.jpg

A Tale of the Last Baby

Portrait of "Mouse"

Once there was a field mouse named "Mouse". Now Mouse thought she was nothing special as field mice go. She was small and brownish
with popped-out black eyes. She had a scaly tail and sharp nails. She was really a beautiful little mouse, but she didn't know it. And she was really special, too, as you will see. She lived on the edge of a meadow with her extended family, but usually stayed by herself, playing with seeds or twigs, or weaving grass blankets for her nephews and nieces.She had many friends from school and sometimes played with them. But that was all to change.
From a great distance, at least to a mouse, came the smell of smoke. It is true that mice can figure a way out of most troubles, being smart and nimble, but they are terrified of smoke because it usually means a fire is near. And sure enough, a grass fire was making it's way to the edge of the meadow from the road, where a carelessly tossed cigarette had started it. Several of her bigger friends rushed passed in a panic crying "FIRE. FIRE. RUN." Rabbit stopped for just a second or two to tell her of the fire, then ran on. Rabbits fear fire, as should all animals, but could outrun all but the fastest moving fires.
Mouse looked around for her family and saw that they had left in panic, and had left babies behind. "Oh no", thought Mouse. "I must do something. But what?" She had little time to think, as the air was getting warmer and the smoke was getting thicker. She remembered that Tortoise had a burrow not far from her nest, and decided to take the babies there until the fire passed. But she was alone. So, one by one she carried each baby to the burrow. She ran back and forth in the growing heat and smoke. Tortoise volunteered to take care of the babies while she made more trips. She put down a baby and said to Tortoise "One more. Just one more and we will all be safe." Tortoise said "But you have already singed your fur in several places. It is too dangerous to go back." "No" said Mouse, "I must go back. Every baby is precious." And so she ran into the smoke and flames.
Tortoise waited and waited, but Mouse didn't return. It was getting hard to breathe in the burrow when he heard a tiny voice say "Help me Tortoise. I have burned my feet and cannot walk any more. I have the last baby but cannot make it to the burrow." Tortoise went out into the chaos of the fire, found Mouse and dragged her and the baby back to the burrow, narrowly missing being burned to death himself.
Later, after the fire, some of Mouses family returned and found their homes destroyed, and their babies gone. Tortoise told them of Mouses bravery, and where to find their babies. When they saw Mouse they were all ashamed, and appalled at her burns. She had little fur, no toes and a stump of a tail.
She was lying in a nest with 17 babies, making cooing sounds to keep them from getting upset.
She was the most beautiful mouse they had ever seen. She lived long enough to hear them thank her, and promise to be brave in the future. She perished so the babies would live. As she fell into her final sleep, she thought "Well, I have a few burns, but they will heal. I can't wait to see all these babies grow up and be a doting auntie." But, she never did.

Image: http://i.huffpost.com/gen/1793821/thumbs/o-FIELD-MOUSE-facebook.jpg

The Tale of Two New Friends

 J. Scott Hartley’s famous marble entitled “Boy and Rabbit"

A little boy, who had moved into a house near the Valley and met a talkative rabbit, went out exploring to try to find the rabbit again. The boy’s dad had told him many stories of the times he had explored the woods and fields, and the boy was really excited to find his own animal friends.

And the rabbit, a youngster, was also eagerly looking forward to finding the boy again. He had run home and told Grandpa Rabbit of the meeting, and Grandpa said “Why, that man was the boy my great granddaddy talked to. I bet Tortoise still remembers him. Be careful around the boy until you are sure he is not just hunting us.”

And so young Rabbit went out every day looking near the mounds that the humans lived in. And sure enough! One day, there was the boy, just sitting at the edge of the meadow leaning against a tree trunk. Rabbit crept up behind the tree (creeping quietly was a skill many animals had, but Rabbit was the best at it) and whispered “Boy? Can you hear me?”

The boy jumped up and cried “YES!! Where are you?”

Rabbit hopped out from behind the tree and surprised the boy, who scooped him up in a big hug and said “Bunny! I want to be your FRIEND. Can we be Friends? Please?” Rabbit was quite frightened (a trait of many animals as well as rabbits) and in a quivering voice said “Yes, we can be friends, but you must put me down. I am very frightened of humans and have never been held by one. Please?”

Of course the boy put “Bunny” down at once and sat next to him. “Oh, Bunny!” Exclaimed the boy. “We shall have such fun together. We will play hide and seek, chase things, puddle with sticks in the stream. And we will tell each other all about our families.”

Rabbit said “Well, to start with, my name isn’t “Bunny”. “Bunny” is a girl rabbit’s name, and I am a boy. And yes, we can play and tell tales, but we must also learn from each other, and pledge to protect each other. We must be more than friends. We must be BROTHERS!”

The boy was beyond excited. An animal had actually asked him to become a brother. He thought that he would have to talk to his father about this before saying “Yes”. He desperately wanted to have a new brother.

“I am sorry I frightened you, umm, what is your name?” Rabbit thought a minute and said “Well, most animals don’t have names the way humans do. We mostly call each other by what we are, and maybe by our age. I am called Rabbit by my friends and I call them Snake, Hawk, Possum, like that. We always know who we mean. So, you can call me “Rabbit”. What shall I call you? Not “Human” I think, or “Boy” “

The boy immediately said “Oh, my dad calls me “Little A”. The “A” is for Allen, and he is Big A. You can call me Little A. And, I would love to be your brother, but I must talk to my dad first before we can agree on that. It’s getting late, and I must go home soon. I will ask Dad when he comes home from work. “

Rabbit said “Okay, Little A. I like that name. But, we must get on with the friendship, because your kind of animal forgets how to talk when they get older, and I don’t know how long you will have before you will forget how to talk to other animals. Your Dad may know, so please ask him when you see him? Before you go, would you please pick me up gently and let me give you a hug? I don’t think I am frightened of you anymore, and I have never hugged a human.”

Little A picked up Rabbit gently and got a warm and furry hug. As he put him down he said “Rabbit, I will be back in the meadow soon. Don’t forget me.” And Rabbit said, as he turned and hopped away, “I will never forget you Little A. Please come back soon.”

And so, the two new friends went on their separate ways, back to their homes and families, with a new and wondrous tale to tell.

Image: http://photoseed.com/uploads/2012/08/02/single-boy-and-rabbit-william-j-mozart-medium-600-600.jpg

Prologue to the Tales of the Valley.

Rabbit whispers to Boy

The Valley is a wonderful place where animals live out their lives facing the usual joys and problems any animals might have. There are prey and predators, accidents, friendships, jealousies, mysteries and other dynamics. There is bravery, shyness, boldness, bullying, learning, fighting loving and dying.  The Valley has a clean stream, a pond, woods, a large meadow, hills and a road. There are also some humans on one edge living in what the animals call “mounds” which we know are houses. There are seasons and weather emergencies like floods and droughts, fires  and freezes.

The animals can all talk to each other since they believe that they can. Some children can talk to them too, before the veil of disbelief cloaks their imaginations. Your storyteller was once such a child, and remembers all the tales told to him by his animal friends during his years living near the Valley. He, too, lost his belief that he could talk to the animals. But he never lost his memory of those wonderful days, when the animals were his friends.

In the Valley, stories are still told of the human child who sat with the elders and listened to their stories, and who often joined in their adventures. Few animals alive remember him, and when a man entered the Valley one day and spoke nonsense, they all ran and hid. They didn't know he was the human they hear about during the cold winters or warm summer evenings. They did sense kindness, and were surprise when a small human called out to them and they understood him. Some of those tales will eventually join the animals own stories.

The child looked with wonder and amazement at a small rabbit, hidden pretty much behind a log, when it asked “Are you going to hurt me?”  “Daddy” cried the boy, “there is a rabbit over there who talked to me.” His father smiled and said, “I know. They once talked to me too. But I can’t hear them anymore. Best you keep this our secret. Okay?” The boy turned to the rabbit and said “My father told me not to tell anyone that I can talk to you, so it will be our secret. I will come back some day and we can talk some more. He told me that when we get home, he will show me the tales told to him by animals in this valley when he was a boy. Bye rabbit. See you soon.”  And with that father and son walked to the road and left. 

Image: http://forum.mflenses.com/userpix/20111/1827_IMGP3356_1024x685_1.jpg

You don’t need “Plenty”. You just need “Enough”

Plenty of Shoes. Too Many?

I was struck the other day by somebody saying that they really wanted “Plenty of” something. To me this means a whole pile of whatever, like way more money that you need, or too many cars or too much fire wood. You get the point? More of a resource that can be reasonably used, or maybe even being piggish about something.

Sal and I have always worked on the “Enough of” basis rather than the “Plenty of” basis. We have never felt the need to maximize our assets to the exclusion of leisure time or desired activities. For example, when we are looking at taking a trip somewhere, we estimate the cost, check the finances and either go or not. Usually we go. If I see something on sale, say BOGO chicken broth or fleece jackets at 50% of with no shipping, I think about what I need. Two broths would be enough for a week or more. Ten would stuff the pantry and sit around unused for a month or two. So I buy 2. Same with coats. I have a good, if somewhat old, fleece coat. Do I need another? Not really. Two coats, one for work and one slightly better for leisure is enough. Three or four would be plenty, but unnecessary.

This is beginning to sound like a sermon, and that isn’t where I want to go. My point is this: In a world full of few who can afford anything, many who have to be careful, and way more who can afford nothing, it is important, if you are in the first two categories, to reflect on your needs versus your wants, and to align them with your “enough” versus your “plenty”. Who the hell needs 50 pairs of shoes, or 15 handbags, or three smart phones? Very few is that answer.

So for this season of “Good Tidings” stop and think. And take into account the Billions and Billions of people who have nothing. Zero. Zip. And be generous for them and to them. Forgo that extra pair of shoes or that cutting edge phone. Keep the coat one more year, or, buy a new one and give the old one to someone who is cold. You don’t need “Plenty”. You just need “Enough”.

Image: https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/236x/44/00/26/440026ea79cd1a91a9aac64d5ccce66f.jpg

Whole Foods Theory of Weight Loss

See that cup? Yup, Whole Foods.

I was sitting in our local Whole Foods this morning enjoying a nice fare trade coffee and an organic gingerbread muffin when I had an epiphany.  America is suffering from a massive obesity problem. People are way fatter than they ever were. Babies are fatter. Kids are fatter. Teens are fatter. Adults are fatter.  Hell, even I am fatter than I once was.
So I was sitting there sipping my organic and fare trade coffee and eating my muffin and people watching. The guy two tables down, for example. Eating a big salad at 9AM. Ok, not all that weird. But this guy was using BOTH HANDS, eating like a crab. Two forks. Not a slob (although he did chew with his mouth open) but steady eating. And the people going in and out with coffee or small bags with pastries or the people just shopping and checking out. And you know what? They were ALL FIT AND TRIM. Not a single fatty in place (well, the checkout woman was, er, matronly). Pony tails swinging, beards bearding, sandals and running shoes walking. 
And then the EPIPHANY!! Shopping at Whole Foods, or even just sitting there and enjoying coffee and pastry was the perfect way to lose weight. No troublesome diets, no exercise. Just enter Whole Foods and BOOM! off goes the weight. 
I left after about 30 minutes and my pants almost slipped off. Bet you might see me there most mornings I am in town. Just drinking, eating and losing pounds and inches. 

Image: http://i2.cdn.turner.com/cnn/dam/assets/130811113322-100lb-loss-people-magazine-story-body.jpg

Recycled Toilet Paper

   
Yes, Whole Foods again. But a different experience. To recap: this morning I sat for a while with a cup of coffee and a muffin, just chill'en.  In the course of my epiphany I felt the need to use the facilities. You know, the "rest room" although the last thing I needed was a rest. Whilst contemplating the very clean surroundings, I noticed a small sign on the toilet paper dispenser. "100% Recycled Toilet Paper" or something very nearly that. 
OMG I thought. That must be the nastiest job in the world. How could you get anybody to recycle toilet paper? And where is this nasty job (no pun intended) done? I always thought the paper goes away when flushed, you know, dissolves. So what? Do they reclaim the fibers from the treatment plant? And then it hit me. This paper all comes from OUTHOUSES and THIRD WORLD COUNTRIES!!! God Almighty what a nasty occupation. 
"Mom, I want you to meet my boyfriend. He is a recycling expert for paper products used in cleanup."
The next thing you hear is a loud shot followed by a teenager crying "DAD, you shot him!!!" "Yeah, well, he tried to shake hands. Did you see how brown his hands are?"
Just when you think you've seen it all, you haven't. 

(in case you don't recognize it, this is humor, not serious shit)

Image: http://lowres.jantoo.com/ecology-confusion-mixed_up-mix_up-misinformed-recycling-11800771_low.jpg

Fire and Ice: Paradise lost?

I finally got the "best" of "America" (1) CD, after years of wanting and forgetting, and yesterday listened to all 22 tracks. Some old favorites and some new ones. "The Border" initially caught my attention because some of the lines and rhythms reminded me of the sound track from "LadyHawke".(2) Good tune on it's own though. One immediately got me listening carefully: "Paradise".
This song was written in 2001,

      Paradise
      Caught between the fire and the ice
      No need to think twice
      Its where I want to be

Here is my take: the fire is the sun, and the ice is deep space. The Earth is positioned perfectly between these monster extremes, allowing Paradise to exist. Perfect balance between too hot and too cold. Perfect. Paradise. And this is EXACTLY where I want to be.
Problem: They paved Paradise and put up a parking lot.(3)
I won't go into the litany of human caused problems. You know them by now. But folks, I gotta tell you, we are about to lose Paradise. At the very least a different Paradise will take the place of the one I know and love. Might be better, might not. Personally, I would rather not trade this one in for a new model. But I am pretty sure that is what we have accomplished as a species.
I don’t know if Beckley and Bunnell had this in mind when they wrote it, or if  "America" had this in mind when they recorded it. But that is what those lyrics mean to me. At least, one of the meanings.
Think about it.
Image: http://reality.usc.edu/wp-content/uploads/2013/11/ice-and-fire1.jpg

1. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Complete_Greatest_Hits_%28America_album%29

2. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ladyhawke

3. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Big_Yellow_Taxi