Hello, I’m Veronica
The sky is not completely dark at night. Were the sky absolutely dark, one would not be able to see the silhouette of an object against the sky.
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For Heaven’s Snakes!
On a recent jog along the dusty unpaved roads of my neighborhood, I heard – and then saw – a couple of energetic dogs intent on chasing me down. They leaped off the front porch of a nearby house, tore across the wide-open acreage adjacent to the street, and came to a halt just inside what must have been an invisible fence. Barking and jumping, they made it clear I was intruding on their space. Not that I really noticed. I was scanning the road and the shoulder where I was running instead, looking for snakes.
Perhaps you’re wondering why I’m on the lookout for snakes in the dead of winter, when wildlife should be hibernating. Or maybe you’re wondering why I’m even running in an area where I might step on one. Truth be told, it’s highly unlikely I’d come across a snake in my neighborhood, even in the middle of a hot summer running deep into the weeds. Colorado has plenty of the slithery ones, but they prefer the rocky habitat of the foothills to the west (up against the Rocky Mountains). Yet I still look for them out of a long-enforced habit.
Does my snake-dislike qualify as a phobia? Probably. It was my earliest face-to-face with a rattler that turned me to the dark side. Summertime, backyard of our house – living in the close confines of a narrow canyon – and I whacked a tennis ball into the neighbor’s yard. Didn’t mean to do that and needed the ball back. Nobody was home next door but a side gate meant I could sneak around unnoticed. As I moved beyond the house and into an unkempt grassy area, I spied the tennis ball and made a beeline for it. What I didn’t see was the five-foot snake nestled in my path, coiled and ready to strike. Peripheral vision or his rattle made me leap and hurdle at the last second. I landed on the other side of him and kept running. Someone came to my aid and the rattler was caught soon after, but the damage to my psyche was done. Snakes = not good.
There are four species of poisonous snakes indigenous to the United States: copperhead, coral, cottonmouth, and rattlesnakes (of which there are several sub-species). I’ve had the “pleasure” of encountering two of these four up close and personal. In California I came across several more rattlesnakes after my tennis ball adventure, including those big, nasty diamondbacks on desert hikes with the Boy Scouts. Then, years later, while visiting my wife’s family in North Carolina, I played a round of golf and discovered copperheads are fond of the short grass out there. I approached my ball on one of the fairways and just about left my shoes when a long, black snake sprinted across my field of vision. One of the locals I was playing with just laughed and said, “copperheads; get used to ’em kid!” Whether that was sage advice or mind games, golf in North Carolina lost all appeal.
Snakes have been in their share of films. I’ve never seen snakes on a plane and I never saw Snakes on a Plane so I’m still okay to fly. A friend dragged me to Anaconda, which killed any interest in seeing the Amazon. And in Raiders of the Lost Ark of course, Harrison Ford is asked “Indie, why does the floor move?” The following scene with all those snakes is a close-up I wish they’d left on the editing room floor.
Some say you’ve got to get your nightmares out in the open to get past them. Maybe I’m doing that by writing about them. Doesn’t mean I won’t keep looking for slithery ones when I run.
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There’s Something About Mary
Mary Tyler Moore passed away over a week ago and I’ve been thinking about her ever since. Countless actresses come and go, but then you have those who make indelible impressions with one or two jaw-dropping performances. Audrey Hepburn, Julie Andrews and Maureen O’Hara, just to name a few. Meryl Streep. And Mary Tyler Moore.
There’s something about Mary. I read her filmography from start to finish – a span of sixty years of television and movies – and came up with two roles of any significance to me: Mary Richards in The Mary Tyler Moore Show (1970-1977), and Beth in the film Ordinary People (1980). But I think most people would agree – those performances alone land Mary Tyler Moore in an acting class by herself.
Moore first became a familiar name as Laura Petrie in The Dick Van Dyke Show in the 1960’s, but that was a little before my time. On the other hand, The Mary Tyler Moore Show was a weekend staple in my house. At an age when my father still controlled the TV remote (er, TV channel – no remotes back then), my brothers and I were treated to CBS’s Saturday night “killer lineup”, which included The Mary Tyler Moore Show, The Bob Newhart Show, and The Carol Burnett Show.
The Mary Tyler Moore Show included memorable opening credits, if only because the theme song was so infectious (“…you’re gonna make it after all…”), as was the final scene where Mary spins and smiles and throws her hat into the air at a busy Minneapolis intersection. That throw – and Mary Tyler Moore herself – is immortalized in a bronze sculpture you can find at that very same intersection today.
In 1980, just as I was heading off to college, Robert Redford directed the Best Picture winner Ordinary People, one of the most gut-wrenching, powerful, “real-life” dramas I have ever seen. Timothy Hutton burst onto the Hollywood scene with an Oscar-winning performance as Conrad, the younger of two sons in a tormented Chicago family. Judd Hirsch was also nominated for an Oscar (losing to Hutton) for his portrayal of the determined therapist who counseled Conrad back to stability. But it was Mary Tyler Moore’s turn as the heartless and unforgiving mother Beth that stole the show. Her performance was so counter to the sunny demeanor of Mary Richards, I wondered if she was tapping the energy of some real-life bout of depression. That was the breadth of Mary Tyler Moore’s acting talents. I’ve only seen Ordinary People a couple of times but the scene where Donald Sutherland tells Beth he no longer loves her still haunts me. Moore’s silent, crestfallen reaction to that statement could’ve coined the phrase “verbal slap in the face”.
I am even more taken by Mary Tyler Moore when I read some of the details of her life. Clearly, she tried to embody the positive demeanor and “independent woman” of Mary Richards, but she did so in the face of significant personal tragedy. She dealt with alcoholism and smoking addiction, drug overdose (her sister), suicide (her son), and years of diabetes. She took up the baton to promote diabetes awareness and animal rights. Moore was even tougher and more outspoken than her little/big screen roles would suggest.
The theme song of The Mary Tyler Moore show begins with “Who can turn the world on with her smile?” Scroll back up to that first photo. Talk about ear-to-ear! And I can’t help but smile back, even as we now say goodbye to Mary.
Some content sourced from IMDb.com.
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Band of the Leader
Last week at church I was pleasantly surprised to see a brass quintet accompanying the organist. Trumpets, tubas and French horns are typically reserved for the Christmas season services but there they were – a small group of our members – playing along with the hymns of the day. It somehow made the service more meaningful.
At President Trump’s inauguration I was pleasantly surprised to see a small band accompanying young Jackie Evancho as she performed America’s national anthem. It was the first time I’d heard Jackie sing, and I thought her performance of “The Star-Spangled Banner” was flawless. Perhaps some of you know Jackie as the singer from “America’s Got Talent”. For me, her most recent performance lent credence to her status as “the youngest solo artist ever to go platinum”. Jackie also performed for former President Obama at the Lighting of the National Christmas Tree, suggesting a refreshing lack of political persuasion in her decision to sing.
But back to the band – the “band of the leader” as it turns out. Shortly after Jackie finished America’s anthem one of the inauguration commentators labeled the accompanying musicians “The President’s Own”. That phrase stuck with me the rest of the day. Thanks to my curiosity and an in-depth article on Wikipedia I now know more about this talented group. In brief:
- “The President’s Own” is formally called the “United States Marine Band” (USMB). It is the oldest of the United States Military Bands, established in 1798.
- The USMB became “The President’s Own” in 1801, after a performance for then president John Adams. Later that year Thomas Jefferson requested a performance at his own presidential inauguration, and the USMB has performed at every inauguration since. Counting President Trump’s that’s a total of fifty-three inaugurations.
- The USMB has 130 members but typically performs with only 42.
- The USMB performs about five hundred times a year, including state funerals and dinners, and arrival ceremonies for visiting heads of state.
- The USMB’s most common performance is fifteen-minute “patriotic openers” for large events, including the playing of “Marine’s Hymn” (official hymn), “Semper Fidelis (official march), and “The Star-Spangled Banner”.
- The USMB’s most famous director – back in the late 1800’s – was John Phillip Sousa, who composed “Semper Fidelis”, “The Stars and Stripes Forever”, and other famous march music.
- USMB members serve a four-year contract as active duty enlisted Marines. They are not required to complete the training of a typical Marine and are therefore never involved in combat missions.
- Without a musical instrument in his/her hands, you could still recognize a USMB member by the lyre on their uniform rank insignia (replacing the normal crossed rifles).
I love the historical significance of “The President’s Own”, one of many uniquely American elements linking our current leaders to our Founding Fathers. I also love the pomp and circumstance – bands, parades, fireworks and other “fuss” designed to accentuate our country’s most important moments.
Speaking of President Trump’s inauguration and the unquestionable divide of the people over his first week of actions, I found the words of the following quote spot-on. Perhaps you can imagine “The President’s Own” playing in the background as you read, somehow making the words even more meaningful:
“We were a country that has been snoozing. Now we are alert. Whether it’s negative or positive, energy has risen. People are engaged. They’re studying. They are thinking more. And I think that’s good. You can’t get that without someone being bold enough to say things people don’t agree with.” —Hall of Fame running back Jim Brown to the Wall Street Journal.
Some content sourced from Wikipedia, “the free encyclopedia”.
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Have You Lost Your Marbles?
Nestled quietly amid the several headlines for the Presidential Inauguration and the Women’s March on Washington last week, the Associated Press (AP) reported an incident of marble madness near Indianapolis: “… a truck carrying 38,000 pounds of marbles lost its trailer… the marbles were on the shoulder and in the median… there were no injuries, but a lane of traffic in that area was affected by the cleanup during much of the day.”
I was lucky to catch the marbles story on my news feed. It rolled in and rolled out (ha) in the space of about twenty minutes, making way for the more important headlines of the day. A spill of 38,000 pounds of marbles! That’s a whole lot of little glass orbs, people. Your average marble weighs 0.16 ounce (proving once again you can find anything on the Web), so with sixteen ounces to the pound you have a nice “round” estimate of 3,800,000 marbles commanding chaos on that Indiana highway.
As short as the AP article was (you’re reading just about all of it in the quotes above), I love the handful of details. One, the marbles were “on the shoulder and in the median”. In other words, they cleaned up themselves by rolling both directions off the convex surface of the asphalt. Two, “there were no injuries”. My first thought was the image of windmilling arms and dancing feet caused by a pail of marbles thrown in front of someone (I guess cars don’t react the same way). Finally, we have “… the cleanup during much of the day.” How the heck do you clean up 3.8 million marbles? My first choice would be a gigantic ride-on monster vac, preferably something designed by Dr. Seuss.
This story resonates with me because I had a childhood obsession with marbles – and marble games. In the 1960’s the toy company Ideal came out with “Mousetrap”, one of the first mass-produced three-dimensional games. Mousetrap was a fascinating contraption which – when completed – moved marbles and other game pieces in a start-to-finish process attempting to trap another player’s mouse. When I first saw Mousetrap in action I became an instant marble enthusiast.Mousetrap surely inspired the Matchbox game “Cascade” (which I was lucky enough to own). Cascade consisted of three small trampolines arranged in a row between a tower and a scoring tray. The tower included a clever “marble elevator” – a corkscrew raising the marbles to the top – only to dump them down a chute where they would bounce one-two-three on the trampolines and land in the scoring tray. I’m not sure where in this endless loop you have a “game” but Cascade was sure fun to watch (see video here). A more advanced version of Cascade came out the same year in Ideal’s “Bing-Bang-Boing”.
Countless marble contraptions have been designed since the games of my youth (the Web is full of fun videos), and let’s not forget Nintendo’s famous video game “Marble Madness”. But as an adult I prefer the more elegant applications like Chinese checkers and marble solitaire (above photo), and the wooden box mazes I write about in Back in the Sandbox.
In the spirit of storm-chasers, I’d love to race down the highway to watch the next truck to lose its marbles somewhere in this country. But maybe I’ll just stick to the marbles I own myself. After all, what’s the saying? A marble in the hand is worth 3.8 million on the road? Or something like that.
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Horsing Around
My wife runs an equestrian facility on our property – boarding, training, therapy and recreational riding for those who enjoy horses. It’s a lot of activity and it’s a whole lot of work to maintain. When our barn help doesn’t show up, that’s where I come in. I don’t ride but I can do the work. I suppose you could say I’m a horse of a different color. My wife and I knock out the myriad chores in about four hours (morning and evening combined), and I get a kick (hoof?) out of all of the terms and phrases that are uniquely “equine”. Consider the five essential aspects of daily horse care:
Grain – Are you “feeling your oats” today? That’s a reference to horses (of course!) and the boost of energy derived from their daily dose of grain. “Grain” means a lot more than “oats” these days. Grain is a general barn term to include the endless supplements for the specific needs of a horse (i.e. fiber boost, joint care, digest assist, immune system boost, metabolic stimulation). Solid, liquid or “mash” (something in between the first two), grain is measured in bins, sacks, and baggies; scoops, cans, and cups, and even tiny bits like pinches, eye-droppers, and capfuls. When all is measured and done – voila! – your horse has a complete pan to feast on. So remember – grain is not just grain. That’s putting the cart before the horse.
Grass – Have you ever been the recipient of a “haymaker”? That’s a powerful, forceful punch (which means someone must’ve been really mad at you). But a haymaker is also a machine that dries grass, thus creating “hay”. And horses need a lot of hay. You could start with a handful but your horse will probably demand a flake or a cube, and if he’s really hungry he will devour an entire bale. But I’m talking the 50 lb. bale you see stacked in the fields. If you want to seriously hay your horses (and take a two-week vacation), opt for large bales – round or square – which can weigh up to a ton. Your horse will think he’s found an all-you-can-eat-buffet.
Water – You can lead a horse to water but you can’t make him drink. When a horse does drink however, he’ll take in a gallon or more at a time; a glassful simply won’t do. Watering horses requires everything from a hose to a pan to a pail to a bucket to a tank to a trough. If you want to get really crazy you can even install a cistern (or a water tower) and then you never have to worry where your water’s coming from (even if your well dries up). Finally, don’t forget the fishnet to keep the water clean. Horses muck it up while they’re munching on hay.
Cleaning – Speaking of mucking it up, are you a “muckety-muck”? I hope not because that means you’re an arrogant, self-important person. But come join me in barn chores and I’ll show you all the “muck” you could ever want. A horse processes grain, hay, and water into a mountain of manure, and unfortunately for me a horse does his business wherever he pleases. That means a lot of cleaning. You’re going to need a muck rake for starters (and a hoe if it’s cold enough outside because then manure sticks to the ground). You’re also going to need a muck cart – the wheels underneath the muck tub where you’ll deposit all of that manure. Lastly your manure needs a final destination. That would either be a manure pile (which is eventually removed by a manure hauler), or your pastures themselves, by means of a manure spreader. Not to beat a dead horse, but your goal is to get all those “apples” as far away from the barn as possible.
Enclosures – If it came straight from the horse’s mouth, y0ur equine would demand to be put out on pasture and never ever brought in. That’s because he wants to graze all day and night, which is almost never a good idea. So a horse “comes in”, which means he retires to a pen or a stall. If he’s really lucky, his stall has a run, and sometimes he can hang with other horses in a paddock before he’s moved back to pasture. If he wants a place to go when he needs some alone time or gets tired of the rain he goes into a loafing shed. And when he’s actually ridden he goes to an indoor or outdoor arena, or perhaps for a trail ride (which is sometimes just called “down the road”).
There’s a lot more equine-speak where that came from but it’s time I got off my high horse. If you’re in the market for a horse I hope everything I’ve talked about here is enlightening. To me it’s just horse sense.
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The sky is not completely dark at night. Were the sky absolutely dark, one would not be able to see the silhouette of an object against the sky.
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