Selling the Heavens

One of the great things about having a blog is that you are able to get things off your chest in a public forum. Sometimes it involves grand political issues, but other times, it’s just the little irritants of life. When a life irritant happens to collide with human vanity, well, then that’s just a bonus.

The other day I heard a radio advertisement that I have heard a thousand times before. It has always bothered me, but especially so this time. You all have heard it too. Maybe some of you have actually fallen for it. If so, try not to take this personally…but you’re an idiot.

The International Star Registry is a monument to the unbridled hubris of man, exhibit A in the case against man as an intelligent being. Human beings have been laying on their backs in fields at night staring up at the great canopy of heavenly lights for millennia, but it took 20^th century hucksters to come up with the idea of selling them to us. “Name a star after someone,” the announcer shrieks. “Give the gift that will last a lifetime!!”

A visit to their website is even more repulsive than this 30 second pitch. There we discover that there are three levels of stupidity associated with this scam, Custom, Deluxe, and Ultimate. I mean, if you’re going to name a star after someone, screw Custom and Deluxe, right? Go big or go home. What does this Ultimate package get you? A personalized star chart, for one thing, along with a handy wallet sized card with your stars’ coordinates. Yeah, you wouldn’t want to be caught away from home without proof of your intergalactic property rights. The big prize, of course, is your 20X16 framed certificate of authenticity done up in only the finest calligraphy in the Galaxy.

Here’s the money paragraph:

    Flowers, cards, and candy are nice; when you name a star after someone, it will stand the test of time. When you buy a star from us, you will be buying a gift that you can share forever.”

…..when you buy a star from us????

When did the scumbags at the International Star Registry come into possession of the cosmos? Better yet, who were the previous owners? How much did they pay for the heavenly hosts?

Can you imagine what it would be like to hear the CEO of this abomination of a company trying to explain to his kids what he does for a living?   “Well, Daddy pretends that he actually owns the stars so he can presume to have the authority to sell their naming rights to all the idiots in the world.”

When George Bailey promised Mary that he would lasso the moon and give it to her in It’s a Wonderful Life, I’m pretty sure it was a figure of speech. When the ancient Greeks came up with the names of the Zodiac, they did so out of a desire to extract meaning from the heavens, born from the awe that the stars of the universe stirred within them. 5,000 years later, a bunch of slimy hucksters gaze into the firmament and see nothing but an opportunity to make a buck trading on the pride of mankind.

…twinkle, twinkle little star, how I wonder what you are?

Maybe that's it...we've lost the wonder.

Has My Country Lost Its Mind?

The Ebola outbreak in West Africa has claimed the lives of thousands of Africans and several westerners there trying to treat the sick. Somehow this disaster has become a political issue in the United States. Every day it seems we hear new hysterical news reports of faulty screenings at airports, accusations of political correctness preventing a properly frank appraisal of the issue to the American people, and our porous borders being a potential portal for the spread of the disease. The noted infectious disease expert, Rush Limbaugh, has even suggested that President Obama has intentionally allowed infected West Africans into the country as payback for slavery.

Good Lord!

This story is proof positive that everything, and I do mean everything in this country is political. But it’s also disturbing proof that there is no end to the list of jobs that the United States military is asked to do that have nothing whatsoever to do with killing people and breaking things. 3000 military personnel have been sent into the midst of an Ebola outbreak in a foreign country with a fuzzy mission of unknown duration. Am I the only one who finds this to be a ridiculous use of military assets? What’s next? Will the first armored division soon be deployed to Shanghai to assist the local police with rush hour traffic?

In my opinion, an outbreak of an infectious disease in Country A. is a regrettable tragedy for Country A. Country B has an obligation to see to it that the disease stays in Country A. since its primary constitutional obligation is to the citizens of Country B. not Country A. This does not mean that Country B. cannot send doctors and nurses to assist Country A., but it must be at their invitation. It would seem self-evidently clear that Country B. would severely restrict, if not prohibit altogether, travel from Country A. to Country B. until the disease has been checked. This policy would not have roots in racism, or colonialism or imperialism, but rather would be a natural response born of common sense.  

But, this is not the world where we live. Instead, with the active aid of a sensational media, whipping up hysteria to feed the 24/7 news cycle, Ebola in Liberia has become a political and even a racial issue with possibly implications for the November elections.

Only in America.

My New Routine

I have a new routine. It has been unavoidable. You cannot introduce a 5 month old puppy into your life without a few life alterations. The first has been to my bank account, significantly lighter since Lucy’s arrival. Pam cannot leave the house without “picking up a few things” for the puppy. She has already amassed quite an impressive stash of sparkling new chew toys, not to mention her shiny new dog bone shaped ID collar with Lucy Dunnevant etched into the silver plate. Her new bright red food bowls look smart sitting on her giant food tray in the corner of the breakfast nook. At this pace, Pam will be on Petco’s permanent Christmas card list before the end of the month.

My old routine was much less exciting. I would wake up somewhere between 5:30 and 6:30, walk downstairs and make coffee. Nothing else could happen until that coffee was brewed. Then I would check the news on the internet, spend 15 minutes or so inspecting any overnight damage that may have befallen foreign markets, and then write a blog entry if I was so inspired.

My new Lucy-inspired routine still involves the brewing of coffee, but it has to wait until I have released her from her crate and endured a wildly enthusiastic greeting of puppy kisses to the face. After sitting on the floor with her so she can sit on me while giving me more kisses, she races to her toy basket and picks out a favorite for a vigorous game of tug-o-war. Only then does she realize that she really, really needs to pee. So, she marches over to the back door and lets out a discreet whine. I take advantage of this break to brew my coffee and at least make an attempt to check out the news. When she comes back in, she is ready to rumble, so a bout of puppy wrestling takes place in the family room. Only after all of this does she assume her favorite position on the sofa for a very brief break, which I use to continue what used to be my regular routine. Then, after about ten minutes, it dawns on Lucy that she is hungry. Break time is over!

This new routine is extraordinarily inefficient. By the time she gets settled down, it’s time for me to get a shower. I will have to come up with a different schedule for keeping myself informed of world events and writing blog posts. Mornings are now officially Lucy Time!

What Does Money Actually Buy?

Everybody knows that money doesn’t buy happiness, although for short periods of time, it can rent it, but that’s a story for another day. It is generally understood by all but the most superficial among us that the best things in life, the most enduring things don’t require money... friendship, loyalty, courage, etc..etc. However, in sports the opposite seems to be true. If your team wants to compete they better be willing to spend some serious money, right?

We are a week into the baseball postseason, and I am thrilled. I attended my very first playoff game the other night and along with 44,044 others saw my Nationals lose 3-2 to the San Francisco Giants. Despite the loss, it was a glorious thing to behold. I had a sore throat for two days! Last night I watched the Kansas City Royals finish off a sweep of the heavily favored Anaheim Angels, possessors of the best record in baseball, and it got me to thinking. Does money equal success in Major League baseball?

There are 30 teams in the Major Leagues. The two worst teams in baseball this year were the Texas Rangers and the Arizona Diamondbacks. The Rangers payroll was the 8^th richest in baseball, the Diamondbacks, the 11^th richest. In fairness, the lowest payroll in baseball belongs to the Houston Astros, the third worst team in the league. But, what about teams that have made the playoffs?

Those Kansas City Royals who just swept the mighty Angels out of the playoffs did so with only the 19^th highest payroll in the league. The Angels, by contrast checked in with a whopping $155,700,000 payroll, good for 6^th highest. Of the ten teams that made the postseason, five of them are among the top ten payrolls in the game, while the other five are ranked anywhere from 13^th to 27^th. So, I suppose that the results are inconclusive. But wouldn’t it be great if the World Series ended up pitting the highest payroll in the game against the 19^th highest payroll? For those of you keeping score at home, that would be the Los Angeles Dodgers with their $235,000,000 worth of talent against the Kansas City Royals who have managed to get by spending only $92,000,000.

Of course, everything is relative. It’s hard to consider any franchise rich enough to lavish 92 million dollars on a bunch of guys to play baseball as a “little guy.” Player salaries long ago entered the realm of things for which there can be no rational explanation. But having said that, unless my Nationals can storm back from a 0-2 deficit to beat the Giants, I’ll be pulling for the Royals the rest of the way.

Now For the Hard Part

Lucy has taken over the Dunnevant house and all those who live therein. She has managed in five short days to thoroughly steal our hearts. She has accomplished this great feat despite several missteps:

1.     She is scared to death of practically everything. Raising the shades, running the garbage disposal, picking up anything larger than a breadbox causes her great tumult. The sound of wind, small black lanterns, the unexpected shutting of a door are things that produce in her a deep sense of foreboding and gloom. Most terrifying of all seems to be the dreaded food-processor!

2.     Although she is house broken to a certain extent, she is not 100% so. One poop, thoughtfully deposited on the hard wood floors of the dining room, and a pee on our already stained beyond remedy master bedroom carpeting have brought out Molly-era wooded gates at key strategic points throughout the downstairs.

3.     Taking her for a walk in the neighborhood is something close to shock therapy. So many smells, so many barking dogs and scary noises! Just about the time she seems to not be terrified, an acorn will fall to the ground, or a flock of geese will appear overhead causing unhinged panic to ensue.

On the other hand, she has had her first bath and behaved marvelously. She was a model passenger in her first car ride, and she is the best snuggler ever. At some point yesterday, I laid down on the sofa for a nap and before long, Lucy had climbed up and laid down across my chest and was soon snoring like a lumberjack. I hope I have not set a bad precedent by allowing this, since at some point she will be a 90 pound snuggler! But, it is exceedingly difficult to disturb a sleeping puppy. It just may be the most comforting thing in the world to have a puppy fall asleep on your chest.

Much must be done to plan for her care in the coming weeks. Pam has informed me that since I have been the one lobbying for this dog, I need to be responsible for the legwork associated with her care. She will be returning to work next week and we will be away on a vacation the week after that, so I will be in charge of working out the details. It’s only fair.

Lucy

Her name is Lucy, we think. I wanted Maggie, but my two grown children shot it down because it sounded too much like her sainted predecessor, Molly. We had introduced them to her via a group skype date on something called Google chat, all very 21^st century. They were thrilled that we finally had gotten a new puppy, and immediately wanted to come home to play with her, our diabolical plan working perfectly!

 

48 hours in, Lucy is a delight. She is sweet, playful yet under control, and nothing short of adorable. She is also nothing at all like Molly, which actually is a good thing. It was surprising just how much we missed Molly once a new puppy arrived. Each Golden we have had established themselves uniquely within our hearts, making the new one no mere “replacement.” Lucy has already made her mark.

Here are the ways that she has distinguished herself from all those who came before her:

1.     She is skittish, afraid of practically everything except people.

2.     She totally ignores us at mealtime, having never been given “people food” by her first owners.

3.     Before settling down in her bed she scratches it furiously, like a cat does to a litter box.

4.     She loves to sit, gazing out of windows, and whenever she spots other dogs, barks…a practice we will break her of, since we have never owned a “barker” and don’t intend to start now.

5.     She loves to eat grass.

6.     She is an ice cube eating fiend.

7.     She is remarkably well behaved for a puppy, even knows how to sit, lay down, stay and even “wait”, skills that even I have never mastered.

8.     A true retriever, she recently brought us a pine cone in from the back yard and pranced around the family room several times with her prize.

So far, she has been the most unobtrusive dog ever, maybe owing to the fact that she is our first obedience school graduate, proving that even in the animal kingdom, education matters!

Lucy it is.

Our New Puppy!!!

It is 6:15 am and I’ve been awake for over an hour. I’m as excited and nervous as a six year old on Christmas morning. Why? Because this morning I’m getting a puppy! She is due to arrive at 8 am. She is a beautiful 5 month old Golden Retriever who we only met last night. Here’s how it happened…

Yesterday around noon Pam got an email from my niece Christina informing us that she had just had a conversation with a friend who was in the midst of several life changes that had forced her to give up her puppy. When Christina discovered that the dog was a Golden Retriever, she immediately thought of us. Several e-mails and phone calls later, there we were in our family room last night being introduced to this adorable bundle of energy with the highly problematic name of Siera.

It has been 16 months since last we had a dog in our home, but a full 13 years since we have had a puppy in our home, which is no mere distinction without a difference. Although she is a dynamo of energy and curiosity, and in the midst of the “everything goes in the mouth” stage, she is already house-trained, already knows the “sit” command, already has been introduced to car travel, and already uses and apparently loves her crate. In other words, her resigning parents are better than her new ones will be!

Pam and I are nervous. As regular readers of this space know, I have been engaged in a month’s long lobbying campaign to convince Pam to get another dog. Persistence has paid off. But now that she’s about to be delivered, we are both a bit overwhelmed at the prospect. Last night we sat on the end of the bed trying to make the decision. Yes, it will be a huge adjustment, a 24/7 responsibility which will limit our mobility, at least for a while. Yes, it will be a lot of work. Yes, it will be a not inconsequential expense. In this way, the decision to buy a dog is not unlike the decision to bring a child into the world. The plus side of the ledger contained more mystical, transcendent entries. Having a dog brings things like “joy” and “life” to us. In our newly empty house, she will inject much needed noise and activity. She will love us and be loved by us, a condition that makes any home a happier place to come home to.

“-------------,” (enter name here, suggestions would be appreciated) will change the dynamics around here. She will give both of us something new to care for, something new to nurture, something new to love. We will be made better as a result.