Fog of War

I'll have to do my reading list again, given how much time I've spent on planes lately. With Dara gone, she had ordered Fog of War from Netflix. She wasn't interested in it, but I had wanted to see it since it was at the theater. It's a documentary that consists of a long interview with Robert MacNamara, Secretary of Defense for Kennedy and then Johnson. The interview follows a set of "lessons learned" in the sense that MacNamara begins by saying he's 85 years old and wants to provide the benefit of his hindsight. He discusses everything from his childhood to his war experience to his career at Ford prior to becoming Secretary of Defense. The stuff about the Cuban missile crisis was fascinating and mostly new territory for me. (He says that ultimately we avoided nuclear annihilation by luck.) Of course, the whole Vietnam experience is pretty much the centerpiece. I remember reading some reviews of this documentary when it came out, which often shared a common theme that it was self-serving. Maybe. It was fascinating, though, and you'll see plenty of parallels to our current quagmire. I don't think Rumsfeld is half as smart as MacNamara was, but there sure are amazing similarities. Check it out if you get a chance. No politics, just history. Promise.

Shark Valley Expedition

Always in search of new bike riding territory, I brought my binoculars and took the 80 mile drive to Shark Valley to ride the 15 mile tram road. WOW - that rocked!!! Too bad I didn't do this with you Steve. I rode a whopping 2 or 3 mph most the way and saw: A soft shelled turtle, a gopher turtle, millions of painted type turtles, a yellow rumped warbler, bitterns, herons of all sizes & colors, egrets, wood storks, roseate spoonbills, a deer, a snake hanging from a tree & a million alligators. Some gators were big, some had babies and all were scary. The highlight of the day came when I saw the area's bull aligator. He's a 15 footer and aptly named "Big Boy." I have never seen an aligator this big, EVER! The coolest part was the other aligator - maybe 100 or 150 lbs - in his mouth. Big Boy was having Medium Boy for breakfast. YIKES! Where the hell was my camera?

Return to the Left Coast

After a nice breakfast Missy, Mom, and I went for a walk on the beach. I found a seahorse but left it for Missy to dry out rather than risk being flagged as a terrorist who uses dead animals to bring down planes. It turned out my car had satellite radio in it, already pre-tuned to the weather channel, so I got to listen to all the ominous reports of the big storm moving across the upper midwest toward the Atlantic seaboard. At my gate, the flight ahead of me was cancelled. It was headed to Dulles, and the word was Dulles was closed. Now that was unfortunate, considering Dara was in the air on the way to Dulles. Hmmm. My flight to Chicago took off close to on time and landed in quite a snowstorm. We then waited almost an hour to get to a gate. The de-icing operations were slowing things down at the gates. When I finally got in, I found a plane leaving for SFO and waited to see if I could get on it. They would not put me on the standby list because they were boarding, and there was just one poor guy doing everything. They put 45 people on who were already on the wait list. I was the last person on the plane. It turned out when Dara did land at Dulles, the pilot said only three planes had landed there since they took off 6 hours earlier. Kyla braved the slushy snow to pick her up.

The dogs were happy to see me.

Act of Faith

I got this book off Steves reading list, another winner, I think his comments were "wordy but a good story" I would agree wholeheartedly, I almost quit on it about page 200 but something kept me going, once the story unfolded I couldn't put it down. Take the nucleus of the story, Africa, sectarian violence, and the overwhelming neediness of the people, through in the do-gooders and the profiteers generated by the worlds biggest relief effort, and you got one hell of an interesting set of circumstances finely exploited by Caputo. I will probably order another one of his books soon.

Giant Underground Weirdness Magnet

I can feel the pull here in Naples, especially after watching Dad following the latest Anna Nicole Smith news on Fox. Courtesy of Dave Barry:

It's buried around here somewhere. It has to be. How else can you explain why so many major freak-show news stories either happen, or end up, in South Florida?

O.J. Simpson, for example. Why is he here? Did anybody in South Florida ever say, "Hey O.J.! Why don't you pack up your golf clubs, your one glove and your remaining cutlery, and come be part of our community!"? Of course not! Nobody WANTED him here. He was DRAWN here, by the Giant Underground Weirdness Magnet.

Thank goodness we don't have anything like this in California!

Florida Day 2

The weapon of athletic choice this morning was bicycles. Dara told me with concern in her voice, "Just don't try to keep up with your Mom." I rode the spare bike supplied by Missy and managed to hang in there for the 12 miles or so of scenic riding down through Port Royal and back. We spied what Missy thought was a white version of a blue heron (in its transition phase Missy thought). There was some skepticism amongst us on that one, but subsequent investigation in the bird book uncovered that there is a white version of the Great Blue Heron called -- amazingly enough, the Great White Heron. And there is an immature version of a blue heron that is white. I had key lime pie at lunch for Dara. It was tough, but somebody has to do it. After a lazy afternoon back at the condo(while Missy and Mom shopped for quilting fabric and god knows what else), we had dinner over at Missy's. Stone crab claws on the balcony were the appetizer. There was much reminiscing about the Yalie invasion last year. Came back to be humiliated at Scrabble again. Without Missy to keep Mom in control, it was a pitiful match-up. I may have to revisit Sudoku to feel better.

When animals attack

For First Time, Chimps Seen Making Weapons for Hunting - washingtonpost.comI thought this was interesting. To think of the reasoning power required and having no prior, training this is pretty amazing stuff. The author notes chimps have often provided a window into human behavior, as a personal observation I must say their success rate 1 out of 22 is not that far off my own hunting success considering they made their own weapons they may have an edge, I can only hope the Bush Babie is not as crafty as a white tail or turkey.

Florida Day 1

Nothing like getting out at 4:30 in the morning (well, Pacific time anyway) to make you feel at home with the Harrises. Mom, Missy, and I walked to the urinal, down the beach, kicked the rock, soaked off the sand in the sprinkler puddle, and returned in one piece. Lunch with Ken and Sharon was fun, catching up on family doings on both sides. Hung out at the pool for a while enjoying the perfect weather. Got my butt waxed at Scrabble by both Missy and Mom. Missy used the word "conker". Is that a word!?!? According to the official Scrabble book o' words apparently handed down with the 10 commandments, it is. I decided since they did not provide any definition, we would choose to define it as "To subjugate a country of bad spellers."

Slow Thaw

I think last night and today was the 1st 24 hour period of above freezing temps in about a month. There was about 2 weeks there where it never went above 28. As a consolation prize ice is piled up evrywhere and still hard as a rock. The river is still frozen all the way across in the areas with no current and flooding is begining to occur in some areas where the thaw is taking place, like my driveway! if it gets much deeper I may need to moor my vehicles. A couple more nice days and all the water will be where it belongs and we can get on with spring. We are looking forward to seeing Dara and Kyla this weekend and hope we can show Dara some decent weather for her stay.

When Whip-poor-wills Call

We recently had some family come visit, if you wern't here you probably heard about it. It was alot of fun catching up with everyone. Missy gave me a book called, When Whiporwills call, I started thumbing thru it that evening and before you knew it I was done. Probably not something everyone would enjoy, but I thought it was great. It is sort of a collection of stories experienced by a carreer Game Warden in West Va. He beagan in the early 60s and went thru the 70s untill he took another job as wildlife enforcement officer in tidewater Md. He had a few tales from that job also, but nothing as hair raising as his days in WV. Some were really funny like inadvertantly locking himself in a bear culvert trap in sub zero temps in the middle of nowhere. Or his attempt to help some fellow citizens on hog butcherin day. Some were downright scary like attempting to check licence on a bunch of drunk rednecks in the middle of the night, by himself. I have always thought the life and times of a Game warden would make a great book so I was surprised to see one, and thrilled to have enjoyed it so much. There is another guy out there who was a game warden and uses his experience as sort of a background for some low grade fiction. Savage Run is the one that pops to mind. Nothing compared to this slice of life.

Saturday Round Up

While some of our East coasters are digging out from under the snow, or having the national guard rescue them on the Pa Turnpike, we had a mid 70's calm day out here. February is the time when the grass is growing, and the recent rains (after the dryest January on record) had kicked it into high gear. By the time I circled the yard with the mower, it had grown so much I couldn't tell where I'd been before. Okay, maybe an exaggeration.

At last count, Dara has over 100 Pacific coast irises planted around the garden. This year we get to enjoy lots of new ones as well as the newly rearranged ones that got moved to be more color coordinated! A few are out, but mostly they're still on their way up.

The big activity coming up is a new fence and gate. We have a fence that runs along the road, and the only thing holding it up for the last few years has been the chicken wire we use to keep the dogs in. The gate is falling apart as well -- it has to be physically lifted and carried around when you come in the driveway. This will all be a thing of the past within the next month or so, thanks to Dara's efforts to paste together the fence people and the gate people and the landscape people. I don't think she'll be going into general contracting any time soon.

Dirty Floors

Something for the new Harris Builders to consider: dirt, um, I mean earthen floors.

Aesthetically, earthen floors are “really special,” said Frank Meyer, a natural builder who has installed 15 in Austin, Tex. “After a while they look like an old cracked leather couch,” he said. “When people walk in, they don’t say, ‘Oh, nice floor.’ Everyone gets down on their hands and knees to admire it.” Mr. Meyer has used natural pigment to create designs in some floors, and he said some builders add the blood of oxen for maroon coloration.

Keith, your designer client (Jimmy, if I remember right) should be all over this trend.

Going to the Dogs

Following our longstanding tradition of enjoying the relative solitude available outside during the Super Bowl, we took a hike with our friends and the dogs. When we made it in front of the television, Dara pulled up the Tivo'd Puppy Bowl instead. Hours of puppy antics -- it bore an eerie similarity to watching the yule log on TV at Christmas.

Now I see the NYTimes most-mailed article is about designer dogs. We used to call these mutts.

So-called designer dogs became popular a decade ago, beginning with the Labradoodle and other poodle crosses that sought to affix the poodle’s relatively nonshedding coat to other breeds. But the puggle, a designer dog with no clear design objective, seems to have set off an almost unintelligible free-for-all. Pugs alone are now being bred to Yorkshire terriers, Shih Tzus, bichon frisés, Pekingese, rat terriers, Boston terriers, dachshunds, Jack Russell terriers and Chihuahuas to create, respectively, Pugshires, Pug-Zus, Pushons, Puginese, Puggats, Pugstons, Daugs, Jugs and Chugs. Beagles mount Bostons. Chihuhuauas do Yorkies. Beagles and basset hounds are making Bagels; bassets and Shar-Peis are making Sharp Assets — “a more laid-back dog that says, ‘If you don’t feel like taking me for a walk, no big deal,’ ” Havens’s Web site claims. Poodles are being pushed further into a goofy taxonomy of portmanteau labels: Maltipoos, Eskipoos, Doodleman Pinschers.

There must be a Grundoonian Yakhound in there somewhere.

News from the Road

Since my brush with Polonium, it seemed almost anticlimactic to find myself in Boston when bridges, roads, and the Charles River were shut down. As everyone must know by now, the cause was a set of lit-up cartoon characters hung on buildings and some other promotional boxes placed at strategic places around the city in a "guerilla marketing" campaign. From the news here, people seem to be dividing into two camps: the "f*ck 'em if they can't take a joke" camp, and the "fry the bastards" camp. I suppose most of you can guess which one I am in.

As you might recall, I have taken particular delight in watching the police blotter for Atherton over the years. (My favorite police report: a warm cup of coffee was reported found on a doorstep. Subsequent investigation revealed it to have been left by a neighbor who stopped by. Atherton breathed safe once more.) So, I was more amused to see this report in the NY Times on the great Atherton wine cellar heist. It is certainly a burden to be rich.