Mongoose

I guess it’s just my week to be cranky.  But actually, the first page article in the Observer has me far beyond cranky.    “Feds target 400K barred owls to save spotted owl.”  Jeezusly-old-blue-shitwine!  The U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service, no less. What is the matter with those people?  Too much testosterone?  A firm desire to support the NRA no matter what?  Have they learned NOTHING from other extermination projects gone awry?

At least the introduction of the mongoose to kill the rats in Hawaii was not done under the aegis of the government.  The mice and rats arrived inadvertently with shiploads of people and the sugar growers imported the mongoose to take care of the problem.  If you don’t know the result, Google it.  It’s a classic.

And then there was the near extinction the the bison or buffalo. According to site after site on Google, their destruction  had two important consequences: It left the vast grasslands open to the herds of cattle moving north from Texas. Now cattle ranches appeared in the north. More importantly, though, it robbed the Plains Tribes of the one resource that allowed them to move across the plains and continue their nomadic lifestyle.

Once upon a time…

Presumably, we are smarter now.  Studies are made.  Many studies.  Taxpayer dollars are spent.  Many dollars.  But, I can’t really imagine that we can choose the way we feel Mother Nature should stay in balance and then attempt to keep her that way.  No life form is static.  If the barred owl needs new habitat and it impinges on the spotted owl, perhaps we should let the the spotted owls figure out what to do about it.  Isn’t that the way nature works?  Survival of the fittest and all of that?  Perhaps they will surprise us with their ingenuity.

Meanwhile, the extermination of 400,000 barred owls just doesn’t seem prudent.  No matter how I look at it.

Today, in one of my continuing “cleaning out and tidying up” binges, I ran across a copy of The Seattle Times — the “Night Final” edition for Monday, July 21, 1969, 50 pages, Price 10¢.  U.S. Astronauts Open New Era said the headline and the caption of a rather blurry AP. wirephoto read: ALDRIN DEPLOYED SOLAR-WIND EXPERIMENT AS ARMSTRONG, RIGHT, WATCHED.

Charlie and I were at our friends the Sorensens’ house with Marta’s dad — glued to a grainy black and white TV set, as I remember.  We thought Armstrong’s “…one small step for man, one giant leap for mankind” statement was cool and wondered if he thought that up himself.  And I remember feeling truly daunted that we all might be traveling into space some day.  (I am not a courageous flyer!)

And down  in the lower right corner Sen. Kennedy Charged With Leaving Scene of Accident.  Ah, yes!  Martha’s Vineyard, Teddy Kennedy, and Mary Jo Kopechne’s death.  Everything wasn’t moon landings and roses back in July 1969.  But… in the shopping news, you could buy a Toilet Seat — “replacement seats for any bathroom for $1.99” and the Help Wanted ads said that men age 19 & over “Regardless of Draft Status” were being hired at $3.80 per hour — no experience necessary.  (The jobs being offered, however, were not explained.)

Well… all-in-all I’m underwhelmed.  With both the Times and the times.  Somehow, many of us made it through but I’m not at all sure that either the small step or the giant step has gotten us very far.  Perhaps my expectations have been too high.

Black-eyed Susans in the Autumn Sun

A gorgeous day in Oysterville today!   Cool, clear, blue and gold and yellow and amber.  Autumn in all its glory!  Not a day for introspection and yet… here I was thinking (of all things!) about the people I’ve known over my lifetime that I could not sustain as friends.  And yet…

Somehow, it started with my thinking about my two biggest failures relationship-wise.  Husband #1 and Husband #2.  But my thoughts weren’t so much about my failings as what I gained from those marriages.  Besides Charlie and Marta, I mean.  They are gifts unto themselves.

Morgan, Quad (Charlie), Sydney – 1957

No.  I was thinking that had it not been for Morgan (Charlie’s dad), how long would it have taken me to learn that I could stand on my own two feet, provide for myself and my son, and actually figure out who I was and who I wanted to become.  A huge gift received at a painful price — but a gift, nonetheless.

Bill and Sydney LaRue 1961

And had it not been for Bill, (Marta’s Dad) would I have ever thought about teaching?  Would it have occurred to me to set aside my Stanford journalism degree and start over at San Francisco State?  And without that fabulous credential and introduction to the world of elementary education what would my next thirty-nine years have been?

As I murmulled through the day, I thought about others I had known  — girls and boys of my youth, men and women of my later years — people I couldn’t seem to connect with or appreciate.  And yet… I think I probably gained from each “failed” friendship or endeavor.  If not at the time, in retrospect.  The bigger question, of course, is did they?  A question that will probably never be answered, nor does it really need to be.  At least not by me.

It was an interesting day… in my head.

At last! It’s time for my signature chapeau to make its reappearance!

I can’t decide whether that advertisement that prefaces the NYT Morning in my inbox each day is meant to piss me off or give me hope.  Usually, it’s the former.  “7 ways to Retire Comfortably With $500k” it says.  Well… duh!  In my world that wouldn’t take rocket science.

I ignore the ad and scan the headlines, looking to see if there is anything pertinent in the day’s news that could make a big difference to the reality of my own retired life — a life in which the words(?), symbols(?) of “$500k” have no substantive meaning at all.  Sometimes I wonder if the NYT news, itself is slanted toward those who fit the “retired on $500k” category.  On the days I think “yes, probably” I move on to other concerns.

It’s not news to my friends that I’m not very well informed on the “big issues” that are of current times.  Or even the smaller ones.  I try to keep current on local news — mostly so I won’t be arrested for burning during the burn bans (and btw, our current one has been lifted as of today) and know when to batten down for a big storm that’s barreling in on us.  (Actually, that last one isn’t rocket science as our forebears knew very well.)

Always at the ready in Oysterville.

It’s not that I have “given up” hope for effecting change toward a better world.  Not even that I despair of “setting an example” for others or “influencing” the way young people think.  It’s just that keeping abreast of the “news” seems an incredible waste of the time I have left, whatever amount that might be.

Mostly, I think it’s what  Confucius said: “Life is really simple, but we insist on making it complicated.” And besides, I zoom every week with son Charlie and bonus-daughter Marta.  I can count on them to keep me up-to-date (whether or not I buy into that $500k thing.)  And it looks like rain is on its way to us in Oysterville right now.  Yay!  Life is good!