In Cincinnati a 3-year old falls into a moat which is in the Zoo's Gorilla World Habitat.
The Gorilla, Harambe a rare, silver-backed wild animal, endeared by people around the world hides, holds and runs with the child through the moat. Crowds gather, watching the scene below, become unruly. Shouts are heard. Zoo officials are called as well as police officers and trainers.
Harambe becomes confused and is shot. The child is unharmed.
Zoo officials explain their action to police, other regulatory agencies, to the press and to Animal Rights protestors who have gathered outside the Zoo.
Are we forgetting our common sense ability to understand the difference between a captured wild animal, shipped from its natural habitat, with animals abused by owners?
Or do we understand what happens to people and wild animals when both encounter each other in unexpected circumstances?
In 1934 the Federal Firearms Act was passed by Congress to enable police in local, county and state communities to identify and register all machine guns, short barreled rifles and other highly dangerous guns and weapons as well as having background checks made by anyone purchasing a gun.
The Act is still in force though circumvented by elected elected officials who continue to dance
to the tune of the powerful NRA.
Yet it is estimated there are 300 million firearms in this
country for which we have no ability to trace ownership, or point of purchase.
Do we not understand that the best way to control the number of lethal weapons
in this country is to enforce the 1934 Federal Firearms Act?
Or do we really think that the best line of defense
for the safety of people, institutions and public spaces is in vigilante type actions?
When advocacy or self interest overtake common sense we weaken our ability to think
and to maintain a fair, equitable society, and we often vote for the wrong people.
SEE YOU AT THE POLLS!
Monday, June 6, 2016
Sunday, May 29, 2016
MEMORIAL DAY 2016
WE RECOGNIZE THOSE NO LONGER HERE
COMMEMORATED BY QUIET REFLECTION AND GATHERINGS
FAMILY, FRIENDS, NEIGHBORS, AND WITH OFFICIAL RECOGNITION
IN DIFFERENT WAYS WE REMEMBER WITH FOOD, MUSIC AND PARADE
TO REMIND US FOR OURSELVES, WITHOUT ANGER, THE NEED TO DO BETTER.
Thursday, May 19, 2016
TRIP TO AUGUSTA, MO & KATE'S COFFEE SHOP
On a surprisingly clear, sunny day in early March, I found myself, along with two friends on my way
to "see something unusual" in Augusta, a small town about an hour West of St. Louis nestled deep in
the hills of Daniel Boone County close to the Missouri River.
My friends are members of the St Louis Woodworkers Guild who have achieved some recognition for their artistic, hand rendering of decorative and utilitarian products.
We drove to our destination on Route 94, which begins as a straight forward highway and then turns into a two-lane country road. We came past State Parks, parts of the Katy Trail, old munition shell relics of World War II, lakes and ponds that may have been the result of old flooding or the work of people who built their own "pond".
The scenery became a hilly expanse of grape arbors, small and large homes with canoes, kayaks and row boats in driveways as if awaiting the signal that summer was close at hand.
As we came close to Augusta, I was struck by how much it made me think of Venesque, a small town in France's wine country. Here, Augusta's distinction became the first Missouri-Appalachian wine district settled by German immigrants right after Prohibition. The town also bore the resemblance, for me at least, to the small narrow, hilly streets of Venesque. Augusta is a very small town, population 250 which increases substantially when the warm weather arrives. The day we were there its Funeral Parlor was overflowing to the point that I wondered if it was for some local dignitary.
About one hour after our trip began We spotted the driveway to Kate's Coffee Shop, pulled in and went inside.
As we entered, the smell of baking bread and cookies was reward enough for the trip. One quickly recognized that this Coffee Shop is built with ingenuity, understanding of design, a love of history and respect for the local environment. It was, truly charming. Its owners a husband and wife team come from disparate backgrounds.
He was born in Alabama, raised on a farm and developed a design and carpentry business along with a sales and training company. She was a Geo physicist working for the United States Department of Environmental Protection in Washington D.C, when she was sent to Missouri through the Superfund office. He came to Missouri to explore investment possibilities. They met serendipitously in Augusta eight years ago and built the complex now known as Kate's Coffee Shop.
In the coffee house itself,the artistic use of old woods for flooring, in the transits, in trim and some old stained glass windows provide a cozy, warm atmosphere. The owner has built a grape arbor and fountain and a replica of England's Stone Hinge made of local stones and rocks on the grounds.
In the garage stands a late model car the owner has also built by hand.
Along with delicious, nutritional food there is much to see and do here that is, as my friends said, "unusual" and worth the trip.
As we left Augusta we passed about a dozen young men lulling on the broad porch of the local bar. Some were straddling their motorcycles, others just "hanging out". When I saw them, I wondered if they and we understand how close we all are in our common humanity and in sharing the abundance and failings of the state in which we all live.
I HOPE I SEE THEM AT THE POLLS!
The web site for Kate's Coffee Shop is: oakscrossing.augusta.com
My friends are members of the St Louis Woodworkers Guild who have achieved some recognition for their artistic, hand rendering of decorative and utilitarian products.
We drove to our destination on Route 94, which begins as a straight forward highway and then turns into a two-lane country road. We came past State Parks, parts of the Katy Trail, old munition shell relics of World War II, lakes and ponds that may have been the result of old flooding or the work of people who built their own "pond".
The scenery became a hilly expanse of grape arbors, small and large homes with canoes, kayaks and row boats in driveways as if awaiting the signal that summer was close at hand.
As we came close to Augusta, I was struck by how much it made me think of Venesque, a small town in France's wine country. Here, Augusta's distinction became the first Missouri-Appalachian wine district settled by German immigrants right after Prohibition. The town also bore the resemblance, for me at least, to the small narrow, hilly streets of Venesque. Augusta is a very small town, population 250 which increases substantially when the warm weather arrives. The day we were there its Funeral Parlor was overflowing to the point that I wondered if it was for some local dignitary.
About one hour after our trip began We spotted the driveway to Kate's Coffee Shop, pulled in and went inside.
As we entered, the smell of baking bread and cookies was reward enough for the trip. One quickly recognized that this Coffee Shop is built with ingenuity, understanding of design, a love of history and respect for the local environment. It was, truly charming. Its owners a husband and wife team come from disparate backgrounds.
He was born in Alabama, raised on a farm and developed a design and carpentry business along with a sales and training company. She was a Geo physicist working for the United States Department of Environmental Protection in Washington D.C, when she was sent to Missouri through the Superfund office. He came to Missouri to explore investment possibilities. They met serendipitously in Augusta eight years ago and built the complex now known as Kate's Coffee Shop.
In the coffee house itself,the artistic use of old woods for flooring, in the transits, in trim and some old stained glass windows provide a cozy, warm atmosphere. The owner has built a grape arbor and fountain and a replica of England's Stone Hinge made of local stones and rocks on the grounds.
In the garage stands a late model car the owner has also built by hand.
Along with delicious, nutritional food there is much to see and do here that is, as my friends said, "unusual" and worth the trip.
As we left Augusta we passed about a dozen young men lulling on the broad porch of the local bar. Some were straddling their motorcycles, others just "hanging out". When I saw them, I wondered if they and we understand how close we all are in our common humanity and in sharing the abundance and failings of the state in which we all live.
I HOPE I SEE THEM AT THE POLLS!
The web site for Kate's Coffee Shop is: oakscrossing.augusta.com
Wednesday, May 11, 2016
FAIRMOUNT PARK THOROUGHBRED RACING
The graceful beauty, intelligence and strength of horses has always fascinated me.
When I was offered the opportunity to go to see Fairmount Park Thoroughbred Racing
in Collinsville, Illinois I went.
Gambling does not intrigue me but the whole experience of walking next to the track, with the horses up close as they thunder by, muddy track or no, was and is exciting to me.
As we walked to the paddocks, every so often the sun pushed away the clouds. We passed men, women and children milling about in the brief moment of sunshine.
In the stands, or sitting in chairs brought from home, the crowds wore vivid, colorful clothing and hats of all kinds. Some spoke quietly to each other while others were laughing or arguing enthusiastically.
Just before the races began, I looked over the program which listed tables of statistics on the
horses, owners, jockeys, trainers, betting favorites and odds all of which looked like a mathematical
maze to me. So I devised my own system to determine which horse I wanted to bet on.
I selected three races and picked my horses, Chanceymeeting U Here, Hopeful Sweeper, and
Betty's Ginger. Two came in fourth and the last one was scratched because it got away from
the handlers at the starting gate and began running away in the wrong direction to the finish.
I enjoyed the day but the comedy relief to the serious business of betting reminded me of the crazy race to pick a nominee to run for president which is also headed in the wrong direction.
SEE YOU AT THE POLLS!
When I was offered the opportunity to go to see Fairmount Park Thoroughbred Racing
in Collinsville, Illinois I went.
Gambling does not intrigue me but the whole experience of walking next to the track, with the horses up close as they thunder by, muddy track or no, was and is exciting to me.
As we walked to the paddocks, every so often the sun pushed away the clouds. We passed men, women and children milling about in the brief moment of sunshine.
In the stands, or sitting in chairs brought from home, the crowds wore vivid, colorful clothing and hats of all kinds. Some spoke quietly to each other while others were laughing or arguing enthusiastically.
Just before the races began, I looked over the program which listed tables of statistics on the
horses, owners, jockeys, trainers, betting favorites and odds all of which looked like a mathematical
maze to me. So I devised my own system to determine which horse I wanted to bet on.
I selected three races and picked my horses, Chanceymeeting U Here, Hopeful Sweeper, and
Betty's Ginger. Two came in fourth and the last one was scratched because it got away from
the handlers at the starting gate and began running away in the wrong direction to the finish.
I enjoyed the day but the comedy relief to the serious business of betting reminded me of the crazy race to pick a nominee to run for president which is also headed in the wrong direction.
SEE YOU AT THE POLLS!
Thursday, April 28, 2016
PASSOVER 2016
The table was set for 24 in a large square so that each guest could see the others.
My oldest son came from Washington.D.C.
My youngest son and daughter-in-law hosted and led the SEDER.
My granddaughter Emma, just completed a paper which compared a popular American author
with Greek philosophy, came from Bard College in New York.
My grandson Hoben, just helped to stage the 10th Annual Central Regional Audio Student Conference for Webster University, was there along with two friends.
My sons' step family from Baltimore, Maryland was there along with friends from Peru.
My grandchildren's fifth-grade teacher and her significant other, a war veteran who made a plea for greater understanding of the needs of returning war veterans, were there .
Former colleagues from Chicago, and the suburbs of St. Louis were there to participate in telling the story of Passover.
Some people had never attended a SEDER before, some people were of different faiths, and some were not affiliated with any religion or belief.
All were aware of the tumultuous times we are in, regardless of politics and nationality.
We thought too, of the vast seas of migrants making their ways across the planet to find a better home than where they were.
The Passover ritual was recounted in song and readings, both serious and lively, sparkling with maraacas, drums and guitars.
People may have come to our SEDER as strangers but my hope is that we all left with the understanding that we need not fear each other, but we do need to take the opportunity to get to know each other better.
My oldest son came from Washington.D.C.
My youngest son and daughter-in-law hosted and led the SEDER.
My granddaughter Emma, just completed a paper which compared a popular American author
with Greek philosophy, came from Bard College in New York.
My grandson Hoben, just helped to stage the 10th Annual Central Regional Audio Student Conference for Webster University, was there along with two friends.
My sons' step family from Baltimore, Maryland was there along with friends from Peru.
My grandchildren's fifth-grade teacher and her significant other, a war veteran who made a plea for greater understanding of the needs of returning war veterans, were there .
Former colleagues from Chicago, and the suburbs of St. Louis were there to participate in telling the story of Passover.
Some people had never attended a SEDER before, some people were of different faiths, and some were not affiliated with any religion or belief.
All were aware of the tumultuous times we are in, regardless of politics and nationality.
We thought too, of the vast seas of migrants making their ways across the planet to find a better home than where they were.
The Passover ritual was recounted in song and readings, both serious and lively, sparkling with maraacas, drums and guitars.
People may have come to our SEDER as strangers but my hope is that we all left with the understanding that we need not fear each other, but we do need to take the opportunity to get to know each other better.
Saturday, April 9, 2016
EARTHDAY 2016
Nearly fifty years ago, a small group of people sat around a dining room table in a seaside
community. They were for the most part strangers who shared a single purpose, to understand how wetlands affected their lives.
Among them were men and women, influential and plain, credentialed and self-taught, merchant,
fisherman, sportsman, teacher, engineer, chemist and clergy.
They lived within 30 miles of each other. Even though they held different political views, they
were unskilled in the ways of political organizations. And so this small group became a part of
the national ecological movement.
They developed an outreach plan to recruit other people. They investigated the appropriateness
of regional land use plans. They toured sewerage plants and measured air and water
stream pollution. They spoke at schools, to the press, and testified before local and state
commissions and elected officials, and with Chambers of Commerce.
They worked in an office space contributed to them along with typewriters, ditto
machines and old metal filling cabinets. Other people anxious for information volunteered
to do "something" and formed a telephone squad to contact local and state elected officials.
As public interest grew for this small band of citizens, the group soon learned they
were up against powerful self-interests and so they learned to ask "tough"questions.
In retrospect, today this story seems innocently quixotic compared with
the global concerns we wrestle with today and the scientific and
technological tools we use to monitor information about our planet its atmosphere and the impact we have on it.
But it is worth noting that nearly 50 years ago a small band of citizens did in fact
helped gain passage of New Jersey's Wetlands Act of 1970, one of the first such
laws in the nation at a time few believed it could be done.
SEE YOU AT THE POLLS!
This blog was written before I learned of the death of Ruth Fisher Hamilton of
Cape May County, New Jersey. Ruth was an inspiration for me and all those with whom she had
contact. She worked tirelessly to alert all who knew her of the consequences of our actions toward
each other and to the species with whom we share our environment. I shall miss her and most
importantly so will the causes to which she dedicated her life.
community. They were for the most part strangers who shared a single purpose, to understand how wetlands affected their lives.
Among them were men and women, influential and plain, credentialed and self-taught, merchant,
fisherman, sportsman, teacher, engineer, chemist and clergy.
They lived within 30 miles of each other. Even though they held different political views, they
were unskilled in the ways of political organizations. And so this small group became a part of
the national ecological movement.
They developed an outreach plan to recruit other people. They investigated the appropriateness
of regional land use plans. They toured sewerage plants and measured air and water
stream pollution. They spoke at schools, to the press, and testified before local and state
commissions and elected officials, and with Chambers of Commerce.
They worked in an office space contributed to them along with typewriters, ditto
machines and old metal filling cabinets. Other people anxious for information volunteered
to do "something" and formed a telephone squad to contact local and state elected officials.
As public interest grew for this small band of citizens, the group soon learned they
were up against powerful self-interests and so they learned to ask "tough"questions.
In retrospect, today this story seems innocently quixotic compared with
the global concerns we wrestle with today and the scientific and
technological tools we use to monitor information about our planet its atmosphere and the impact we have on it.
But it is worth noting that nearly 50 years ago a small band of citizens did in fact
helped gain passage of New Jersey's Wetlands Act of 1970, one of the first such
laws in the nation at a time few believed it could be done.
SEE YOU AT THE POLLS!
This blog was written before I learned of the death of Ruth Fisher Hamilton of
Cape May County, New Jersey. Ruth was an inspiration for me and all those with whom she had
contact. She worked tirelessly to alert all who knew her of the consequences of our actions toward
each other and to the species with whom we share our environment. I shall miss her and most
importantly so will the causes to which she dedicated her life.
Sunday, April 3, 2016
"WHY TRUMP CAN'T BREAK THE G.O.P."*
According to Jacob S. Hacker and Paul Pierson who wrote: "Why Trump Can't Break the
G.O.P American voters choose presidents, not kings (or queens)."*
Both writers are professors of political science, Hacker at Yale and Pierson at the University
of California, Berkley, and author of "American Amnesia: How the War on Government Led
Us to Forget What Made America Prosper."
They write of the complex system of interlocking parts in our government that allows
the "Republican Party to thrive even as its presidential candidates do not."
SEE YOU AT THE POLLS!
*New York Times, April 3, 2016
G.O.P American voters choose presidents, not kings (or queens)."*
Both writers are professors of political science, Hacker at Yale and Pierson at the University
of California, Berkley, and author of "American Amnesia: How the War on Government Led
Us to Forget What Made America Prosper."
They write of the complex system of interlocking parts in our government that allows
the "Republican Party to thrive even as its presidential candidates do not."
SEE YOU AT THE POLLS!
*New York Times, April 3, 2016
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