AS AMERICAN AS SHEHERD'S PIE

ORIGINALLY PUBLISHED BY THE SOMERS RECORD (04-28-22)- Please remember small business in your town during this coronavirus pandemic

     Raining down from the sky, all across the land, baseballs as big as hailstones mark the beginning of the long and arduous unfolding of a competitive season unlike any other. How embarrassing that America's Pastime is British. The story that Abner Doubleday invented baseball is itself an invention, since it had been played in various forms since the 1700s. In 1845 The Knickerbocker Club of New York published a set of rules that made the British game of "rounders" uniquely American. It may not be perfect, but the game of baseball is as close to dramatic purity as sports is likely to get.

     That doesn't stop the Commissioner of Baseball from tweaking the regulations to try to improve the television ratings and ballpark attendance, while causing conservatives to argue with progressives about whether or not the "designated hitter" should be universal. Starting this year it is, so conservatives and progressives can go back to arguing about much less important stuff. Now, when it's the pitcher's turn to hit, someone else gets to strike out in his place, and the pitcher gets to say, "I could have done THAT, and I would have done it a lot faster."

     Also new this year is an electronic communications system between pitcher and catcher, so they can trade signals back and forth to decide what pitches to throw. It's to prevent runners on second base from seeing the catcher's sign and tipping the upcoming pitch to the hitter. The kinks aren't all worked out yet, so instead the runner on second hears the pitcher say, "WHAT DID YOU SAY?" And the catcher says, "SLIDER, LOW AND AWAY." And the runner on second says, "SLIDER, LOW AND AWAY." And the hitter says "I HEARD." And strikes out anyway.

     Next year we'll say goodbye to the "shift," may it rest in peace. That's a defensive alignment that came into fashion when math geeks started becoming assistant coaches. They ran the numbers, analyzed the data, populated the spreadsheets, and discovered that the hitter usually hits the ball right over there, and they stick three fielders there. The hitter, spooked by all the fielders, tries to bunt to the place where the fielders used to be, and strikes out. Next year the fielders will have to be where they usually are, so the hitters can go back to striking out for other reasons.

     But baseball is still good company, especially on the radio. I like John Sterling, he's the good-humored play-by-play guy on the radio. We see eye-to-eye about a lot of things, and in two sentences I've used up my hyphen quota for the day. I agree with his common complaint that there are an awful lot of unnecessary and annoying sound effects played at the Stadium. Sometimes they play "DAY-O... DAY-O..." the "Banana Boat Song," made popular by Harry Belafonte, over the PA, I don't really know why. Perhaps someone made a study of what gets people riled up at a ballpark, and bananas came up bigger than anyone expected. Next time I'm at the stadium I'm going to slip the word "banana" casually into the conversation and see if I can stir up the fan base. Also, and I'm not sure if this is new or if I'm just more irritated by it than I ever used to be, but they play what sounds like a loud civil defense alarm every time a Yankee pitcher reaches a two-strike count. In and of itself it's already annoying, but what if we come under a nuclear attack just when a Yankee pitcher reaches a two-strike count, and everyone at the stadium fails to realize it because they're already sounding that stupid alarm?

     What I don't like about John Sterling is that he sometimes doesn't understand the main difference between television and radio. On radio, the audience can't see the game, so as an announcer you have to describe it to us: "And that's ball four, so the Yankees have a lead-off walk. Except the umpire called it a strike." Since we can't see the game, we won't know if you wait an extra second for the umpire to actually make his call before you make yours. Recently in extra innings the home team batter came up in extra innings with two men on and launched a towering shot that would have won the game: "IT IS HIGH, IT IS FAR, IT IS... GONE!" It turned up a few moments later of course, right in the outfielder's glove. It wasn't quite high enough, and wasn't quite far enough, and I had spilled my coffee all over the front seat of my car for nothing. My coffee was... GONE!

TREE AMIGOS

ORIGINALLY PUBLISHED BY THE SOMERS RECORD (04-21-22)- Please remember small business in your town during this coronavirus pandemic

 
     It seems easy to take trees for granted. If one falls in the forest and nobody hears it, it either didn't make a sound or fell right on top of the only guy who might have. Either way, you'll just have to take my word for it. Last Saturday we attended an informal chat about trees with Bob MacGregor, Manager of Operations at the Somers Land Trust, a group of members and volunteers dedicated to preserving open space in Somers and the surrounding areas. What's so great about open space, you ask? If Melén loves space so much let him just book a flight with Jeff Bezos and see all the space he wants. Well, for one thing, over-developing to build condos and strip malls will suck the character out of a town in the time it takes to pave it over, and you'll still never find a respectable parking slot. For another thing, I'm definitely going to throw up the minute that damn rocket leaves the ground, and everyone in it is going to be angry at YOU for suggesting the idea.

     I always assumed that trees just go about their daily lives and photosynthesize for a little while, throw shade at people, take a short nap and generally have a nice day. But it's not as simple as that for trees. They can leave but they can't run away. We heard about some of the strife and stress that can cause the phone to light up at the branch office.

     Bob pointed out 25 former seedlings that were planted as part of a Girl Scout project years ago, and with a little care, all of the trees and some of the Girl Scouts have gotten much bigger since then. But trees have more enemies than you might think. A mesh of chicken wire was placed around the lower part of each trunk to protect it from deer, who brush against it with their antlers in order to attract the sort of mate who might find quirky habits attractive.

     Beavers are also a threat with their dam behavior. They can gnaw on three different types of trees, some to build their dams, some to build their lodges and others to store away bark under the lake bed as food during the winter, when beavers can't be choosers. There are other perilous pests like the ash borer, which bores the ash tree to death with pictures of its grandchildren.

     We have a tree with tent caterpillars in it, and I don't know what to do about it, other than let nature take its course. Eventually the tent caterpillars' wives are going to get fed up with the camping experience, just like mine did. Tent caterpillars, if you're out there and you don't have an electric refrigerator, and electric heater, an electric fan, a vacuum cleaner, cable television, wi-fi and a fully equipped kitchen in the tent you'll probably perish, one way or another.

     Invasive earthworms are another problem. They consume the organic matter in the top layers of soil, robbing it of nutrients that support the herbaceous life in the area. I had always been taught that earthworms were our friends, and now I was being told to un-friend them. Somewhat heartbroken, I asked Bob about this, and he said that only indigenous earthworms are good for the soil. Apparently the planet Earth is too broad a definition of indigenous.

     Destructive vines such as bittersweet will grow quickly to the trees canopy and smother it. Cut the vine in two places to prevent it from re-attaching itself to its own growth. And don't hang around for too long afterward, lest one lick its chops looking at YOUR canopy.

     Something as simple as wind can be a problem for trees that grow in shallow soil atop bedrock, as often happens here in the Northeast. With the onset of climate change has come severe storms accompanied by strong winds, sometimes gusting 50 miles-per-hour in a 35 mile-per-hour zone.

     Deciduous, cone-bearing, hardwood, softwood, they all provide erosion protection, carbon dioxide cleansing, shade and shelter. They are home and food to countless members of the animal kingdom. They create a beautiful vista for you to pose in front of for your vacation selfie. Growing up they were my personal jungle-gym. Some people can't see the forest for the trees. If you can't see the forest OR the trees, plant one yourself- Arbor Day is right around the corner. I'm going out right now to plant a beech tree. It'll be a good excuse to plant a beach to go with it.

 

MEAL OF FORTUNE

ORIGINALLY PUBLISHED BY THE SOMERS RECORD (04-14-22)- Please remember small business in your town during this coronavirus pandemic

     I don't know about you, but we can only survive so long without a trip to the Chinese restaurant. A well-rounded diet needs "tree-ears," bamboo shoots and water chestnuts. People who think that bamboo shoots are only for torture are really missing out. It's hard to believe I would ever eat any of those things once I found out what they were, because I don't normally pride myself on having the same eating habits as a binturong. But now I'm disappointed if I don't see them on the menu. I blame my wife for all this, who was born in Hong Kong where her parents were foreign correspondents. 

     Ironically, rarely do you eat off of china at a Chinese restaurant. But I do always ask for chopsticks. To use them effectively tap them end-up on the table so that they're the same length, anchor one in the crook between your thumb and forefinger, and move the other with your thumb and first two fingers. If you can pick up one grain of rice you're a high intermediate, and if you can pick up the check you're an expert, at least in my book. To a drummer though, chopsticks are SO much more, especially if there are at least two glasses of water and two glasses of beer on the table. You may hear the glass as half empty but as an optimist drummer I hear it as a whole note. If there's a cowbell around so much the better, unless it's still attached to the cow.

     What I like about the Chinese menu is the variety. With other types of cuisine, you have chicken, beef or veal and they are prepared in different ways, using different sauces, sides and cooking techniques. With Chinese food you start with the other stuff, and just mention whether you want chicken, beef or pork in it. 

     "I'll try the orange chicken," I said to the waiter, who shook his head, "no." He said, "80 percent of the people who order that send it back." (I kid you not) I couldn't believe my ears, a.) that he would actually be honest enough to tell me that, and b.) that diners would send it back- the postage to China must be an arm and a leg. I said, "Does it come in any other colors? Never mind, I'll just have the short ribs- how tall are they?" He seemed fine with that choice, and said, "And it does not come with monosodium glutamate, in case you need to know." I said, "Fine, then I'll have mine on the side."

     But for all the different choices of entrees, when you get to the end of the meal it's slim pickings. "Can we see the dessert menu?" I say, just to see the blank stare. "Okay, well just bring us two cups of coffee." An even blanker blank stare. "All right then, I guess we'll have fortune cookies for dessert. But can we at least choose our fortune?" Sometimes they come with an orange, there are certainly a few of those left over from the chicken dish that nobody ordered.

     Don't rip your fortune in half or it won't come true. DO keep your eyes open in case it does. Some are cryptic: "You will know it when you see it; it will know you when it sees you." What we both do after that is anybody's guess. "Do what you love; the rest will fall into place." Which is good news because I'm not getting enough sleep. "Follow what calls you," probably referring to my boss.

     Confucius was born in 551 BC, and is often credited with writing what became the known as the Golden Rule centuries later. But he never wrote fortunes for cookies. He did say things like, "When you have faults, do not fear to abandon them," but he also said things like, "You're standing on my foot," which remain enigmatic even today.

     As a romantic evening for two a Chinese restaurant may not have occured to you, but maybe you might reconsider. You could re-enact the spaghetti scene from "Lady and the Tramp" using lo mein noodles, for instance. Or, during a quiet moment of intimacy, whisper the words "kung pao" and see if the idea goes anywhere. Careful, there's a little picture of a flame by some of the selections to warn you that they might spontaneously combust should you do anything remotely sexy. Bon appétit, or as the Chinese say, "chī, chī, chī!"

PLAYING THE MARKET

ORIGINALLY PUBLISHED BY THE SOMERS RECORD (04-07-22)- Please remember small business in your town during this coronavirus pandemic

     This little piggy went to market, and people who hardly shop for groceries should take a few moments to appreciate those heroes who do. Those people that run into a crowded supermarket when the rest of us are running out (of food). I'll spend my few moments right here, because I had to do the food shopping for a couple weeks and I get exhausted all over again just thinking about it.

     First I test-drive a few shopping carts to find one with decent handling. I don't need rack-and-pinion steering, but I won't tolerate a dead wheel because at some point when no one is looking I'm going to air that baby out at a dead run and then put my feet up on the chassis and see how far I can coast without running into the grapefruit display. That's the kind of thing guys do when women aren't looking. I found a sporty model that actually had a cup holder on it so that I wouldn't spill my cocktail if only I had remembered to bring one. I kept my eye open for something to put in there a little stronger than a bottle of salad dressing. Maybe this wasn't going to be so bad after all.

     Americans can complain about a lot of things, and Freedom of Choice should be one of them. If that's in the Bill of Rights they should take it out as soon as possible. In countries where they don't have 37 different brands of dog food, I contend that the people are much happier, and I wouldn't be surprised if the dogs are happier, too. I hate that guilty feeling when I don't get my dog the healthiest blend of USDA-approved, vet-sanctioned, human-grade balanced recipes with no by-products. I'm not even sure I DIDN'T get my dog that, and I'm also not sure if I would eat it myself if I were a dog (not one of them mentioned Kit Kat bars or pizza in the ingredients). Thinking of all those sad, shivering dogs out in the cold, chained to a trash bin in the ASPCA ad, maybe I should spend another 20 minutes looking at the carbohydrate count on the label. But in the end I bought something that looked like an order of sesame chicken. Time is passing me by as I look at dog food labels and even though quality of life is important, quantity of life is important too.

     This is how supermarkets play me for the fool that I am: I wanted a few croissants to make a nice breakfast sandwich this weekend, but all they had was a package with literally 25 croissants in it, so then I had to think of 25 different things that you could put on a croissant, and by the time I worked my way down to peanut butter my cart was already half full.

     At that moment I came face-to-faceplate with an actual robot. It was standing in front of something that had dropped onto the floor yelling, "CAUTION! CAUTION!" Once I had ascertained that my life was not in immediate danger, I realized that the thing on the floor was my shopping list, but the robot wouldn't let me retrieve it, lest I trip and fall slipping on it. Anyone who's job might be replaced by this particular robot would be much better off that way. It was more likely that the robot's job would be replaced by a human, one who was good at thinking of stuff to do to make himself look busy (my retirement job?). 

     It had sort of a "Lost in Space" demeanor, but I wondered if maybe it was more advanced than it looked, possibly trying to glean data from me about how I shopped and what I was interested in to transmit back to the team in market marketing. So I threw a few curve balls into its path like, "I heard they're getting a female robot," and "I wish they had a gin and tonic dispenser here like at the ones upstate."

     When it was time for checkout I realized I didn't have any coupons, so I would have to pay the full asking price. There was a lady with a supermarket pin standing in front of a machine asking me if I wanted to checkout myself. I said, "No, just give it to me straight: what's my hair doing right now?" I couldn't believe how much the bill was. If you can't afford a new car you can always get a used one, but with food that concept doesn't work nearly as well.

     So if you're young and single and carefree and you happen to be reading this, look a few years into the future and picture yourself lost in a supermarket, with a shopping cart full of alcoholic beverages, 37 brands of dog food, being yelled at by a robot. Now go out and find yourself someone that you'd like to walk down the aisle with, it hardly matters which one.