CHINESE FOOD FOR THOUGHT

ORIGINALLY PUBLISHED BY THE SOMERS RECORD (12-07-23)

 

     The holidays are inching ever closer, and I've been toning up, hitting the gym pretty hard, working on my stamina and sharpening my elbows. Because soon I'm going to be in that store with YOU, and you and I will be racing for position when a new register aisle opens up, trying outsmart each other in the parking lot and competing for the last widget on the shelf. And I'm going to win, even if I have to break some of the Ten Commandments. I was chatting with my dentist recently, although he did most of the talking. I said things like "arrorragh," and "urrowowawa," but he seemed to agree with it. The dentist's office is just one more place where I can't keep my mouth shut.

     Anyway, my dentist mentioned that he tries to avoid buying anything from China. I'm not sure whether it's a political statement or that he just thinks that their products are inferior. I know that when Chinese President Xi visited the U.S. last month, probably much of the stuff that came out of his mouth President Biden wasn't buying either. It illustrates a mutual mistrust between the two super-powers that has only gotten worse over time. I only hope that countries that export chocolate will not mistreat their workers, because I would not survive a boycott.

     Distrust usually comes from misunderstanding, which often stems from lack of trying. But when President Xi had his recent summit with President Biden, they did manage to iron out a few things, such as cracking down on fentanyl labs, opening a dialogue about artificial intelligence and that the Golden Bachelor has made some weird choices. It's important to walk away from a summit with an agreement of some kind, because a summit seems like something you have to climb a lot of stairs to get to, and nobody wants to go through that more than once.

     A promise to engage in high-level discussions concerning military operations and artificial intelligence might not ever come to anything, but it represents a chance to at least try to understand what the other is up to, as long as nothing gets lost in the translation. I'm sure they were hoping for a bilateral agreement, but at least they ended up with two unilateral agreements. And they did agree to disagree.

     Even in the internet age of information, there are so many things that remain inscrutable about Chinese culture. The Taoist discipline, put forth over 2,500 years ago by Chinese philosopher Lao Tzu, means as many different things as there are people to interpret it. Nature is complete, the doctrine tells us, and any attempt to master it must result in failure. One look at my lawn proves this to be true. 

     There are so many people in China, you'd think more illumination would leak out just by osmosis. But it remains a carefully monitored microcosm. I picture the country like a giant #6 train during rush hour: it's almost impossible to get in unless you were born there. I picture China so crowded that if even you were appointed a seat on the State Council, you would have to scramble to sit in it when the music stops, and whomever is still standing is eliminated.

     The issue of "human rights" comes up a lot when discussing China. But is America blameless? In certain parts of the country it is still illegal to alter a claw machine game so that it doesn't pick up any toys. In some places you can't honk your horn outside a sandwich shop after 9:00PM. And don't try to eat any frog that died in California after participating in a frog-jumping contest, or you could end up in jail AND suffer mild indigestion. So America, get off your high horse, and remember, you could be arrested for riding a horse drunk in Colorado, although it's perfectly legal for the horse to be drunk.

     Even the Chinese calendar is a mystery to me. The phases of the moon are divided into 12 parts, each represented by an animal that possesses certain attributes. We are currently in the year of the rabbit, which is associated with the element of water. Those born in the year of the rabbit are said to be affectionate, kind, gentle, compassionate, and merciful. Those sure don't sound like the qualities of the rabbit that attacked my vegetable garden.

     I don't know if you can or should avoid Chinese goods when you do your Christmas shopping, but that doesn't mean we accomplished nothing today. Lest you think that this column is somehow not worthy of your time, Kong Qiu, better known to the world as Confucius, possibly said it best when he said, "Fine words are seldom associated with true virtue."

UNFORGIVING NATURE

ORIGINALLY PUBLISHED BY THE SOMERS RECORD (11-23-23)

 

    Nature is revolting. For example, I was walking along my street with my dog, and this enormous pine cone dropped right in front of me, missing me by inches. Of all the enormous pine cones in the world, this particular one came down right when I was almost underneath it? I'm telling you right now, this was no accident. It reminded me of when I was in a Hollywood cliché where I'm standing on a stage, and a sandbag held aloft by a fraying rope is about to drop onto my head, and the hero, at the last second, sees it and rushes in to push a really hot girl out of the way who is nowhere near it, and the sandbag drops onto my head, knocking me conscious. And he says, "Are you all right?" And I say I think so, and he says, "I was talking to the hot girl." And he grabs her in his arms and I ask, "Where are you going?" And he shouts, "There's no time to explain!" And he whisks her out the door and into a restaurant across the street that's really hard to get reservations for.

     Anyway, I think it's a sign. I think Mother Nature is talking to us, saying, "Clean up your room! NOW!" Okay, your Mom might ground you for a couple weeks or take away your phone if you do something bad. But when you get Mother Nature angry, it's a different level of punishment. Feast, famine, plague, that sort of thing. And we're seeing more and more of it.

     What about the otters? Otters are about the most playful creatures on the Earth. And yet, a man training for a triathlon a couple months ago sustained a prolonged attack by two otters as he was swimming in a lake in the Sierra Nevadas. He tried to swim away, at a rate of speed that probably would have won him the triathlon, but the otters kept cutting him off and biting him. He was terrified, and his wife finally came out on a paddle board and rowed him to safety. I don't know about this guy but my wife would have made me promise to get rid of all that crap in the garage, change the light bulbs in front of the house that have been out for weeks, and a dozen other things before she rescued me from an otter attack. She would have brought a pen so she could get it in writing. Anyway, otters are normally peaceful, have a great sense of humor and excel at board games, but they will attack if threatened, so saying things like, "Why don't you come at me, bro?" should be avoided. But this was an unprovoked aggression.

     Another example is the case of orcas attacking boats in Europe and Australia. While there have been no reported deaths as yet, the sudden downturn in behavior exhibited in animals thought to be benign to humans is somewhat disquieting. If I would have been present during the attack, once I dried off I would have asked the orca, "Why are you doing this to us?" His probably would be, "We're not happy with your stewardship of the Earth. And by the way, we are 'killer' whales, not 'second-degree attempted manslaughter' whales, so consider yourself lucky." "Lucky is that guy on that boat over there, who is bone-dry and nursing a frozen mango margarita, laughing at us." "He's next."

     Humans have been running this planet for a long time, and it's not going that great. We have always assumed that we are the smartest animals on the planet, even though my cat sits around 23 hours a day, gets all his meals for free, never tips, never fills out any paperwork of any kind, free medical (no dental though), no jury duty, short commute and can lick his own tail.

     Maybe we're not that smart after all. We've dumped a lot of carbon dioxide into the air. And every time one of those genius politicians opens his mouth about how scientists are wrong about climate change, guess what comes out? More carbon dioxide. Those who think, well, there are plenty of natural resources out there, let's just use them up and then we'll figure something else out should consider one thing: That oil we pump out of the ground comes from the bones of an extinct species. Hmmmm.

      You can hardly blame Mother Nature for being angry. I don't remember my own Mom being too tough on me, but when she was really mad I used get a whacking on the behind with the hairbrush. It was corporal punishment, and I was a major pain in the neck, so I actually outranked my punishment. But would resort to hiding the hairbrush from her. This explains a little about my lack of discipline, and a lot about my hair.

BURNING QUESTIONS

ORIGINALLY PUBLISHED BY THE SOMERS RECORD (11-16-23)

 

     We had a scheduled fire alarm at work last week, and we were all required to assemble in the hallway and review the emergency procedures. It was an extremely small hallway, and my guess is that if the Fire Marshall knew that there were 30 of us packed in there, he would have shut the place down. What we learned is that if anyone should smell smoke, they are to break the safety glass and pull the fire alarm. A call to 911 should be next, especially if they lacerated the radial artery in their wrist with the broken glass from the fire alarm. If there are flames, we need to proceed to stairwell "C," unless it's cut off by smoke in Hallway "D." Should that be the case, we are to attempt entry into the "E" wing, where multi-denominational praying is to take place, along with a review of the alphabet to figure out our next move. When the talk was over I let everyone know that an odor of smoke around lunchtime may be attributed to the toaster in my office. And based on the abstruse nature of the fire safety procedures, if a fire starts in my office we're ALL toast.

     The Fire Warden passed out flyers telling us what to do to escape a smoke-filled room. You're supposed to place a wet cloth over your nose and mouth to filter the smoke, take short breaths, stay low on your hands and knees and do NOT break windows. Which is the same procedure we used when riding in the bar car of the old Conrail commuter train. That car was like a moving den of iniquity, and you could commit at least four of the seven deadly sins by the time you reached 125th Street without even trying.

     For five years my office was located in the building across the street, and they sounded a fire alarm literally every month. Which seemed almost irresponsible, because eventually you became inured to that beeping noise and just ignored it. It was like the boy who cried wolf, if he had made a beeping noise. My office was on the 13th floor, where an actual fire every month would have seemed perfectly appropriate. 

     Fire is no laughing matter, as are many of the matters in my columns. I almost burned down my parents' house once when I was cooking French fries back in the 1980s. As much as I'd like to blame France for this, I can't, so I'll blame the 1980s. I had left the pan unattended and it eventually burst into flames, overcooking both the French fries and the kitchen cabinets. Once I realized what had happened I sprung into action by trying to remember what you're supposed to use to extinguish a grease fire. Is it ONLY water or NEVER water (NEVER water)? A grease fire is a class B fire, which should be put out by an appropriate fire extinguisher, which luckily we had several of distributed throughout the house. 

     Firemen quickly came to finish putting out the blaze, although now, of course, we call them fire-fighters. Fire-fightresses if they are women. I'm not sure why we choose to call some professions by a gender-specific names and not others. Does it seem important that a man be known as a waiter and a woman a waitress? Now that they're called servers, they are never even the ones who actually serve the meal when it arrives. By contrast a woman, for instance, might not want a doctor who does not possess all the same standard equipment as she does. She may be more comfortable with a doctorette. 

     As much as I think that vaping is a poor alternative to smoking, at least it seems less likely to cause a fire. And that's better than nothing, unless we're on a desert island and we need to signal planes flying overhead. "Does anyone have a match?" I ask, "one that does not involve my face and some other object? Let me see a show of hands." The show closes quickly. "Everyone here quit smoking? Not even second hand? And how healthy did that decision turn out now?" Someone offers, "I have an e-cigarette, and we can use it to start an e-fire." "All right, any other suggestions?" "Yes! Remember that Facebook post that asked what three CDs you'd want with you if you were stranded on a desert island? Well, I BROUGHT them with me! Does anyone have a CD player?"

     Any fire professional will tell you that an ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure, and a smoke alarm weighs about seven ounces. This is also a good time to thank those men and women who have risked their lives in this dangerous and unpredictable profession. Those who run toward the fire as the rest of us are running away from it. And if I am ever running toward a fire it's only because I wrongly assumed that  stairwell "D" came after stairwell "C."

RE-INVENTING HALLOWEEN

ORIGINALLY PUBLISHED BY THE SOMERS RECORD (11-09-23)

 

     Since my column is published after the fact, I get a chance to reflect on events well after everyone else is totally sick of them. If for some reason you're not sick of them, I can cure you of that. I read a description of Halloween that said that the day is "believed to be when the veil between the worlds of the living and the dead is the thinnest." I wonder who was the first person who actually realized it? I guess someone woke up one day and said, "Wow, have you noticed how thin the veil is between the living and dead? You can see their underwear."

     The pseudo-holiday has its origins in spiritual and religious ritual, but somehow, like most celebrations that spend any time in America, it has devolved into simply an excuse to throw your diet out the window. I would describe Halloween as the day when the veil between having candy and not having candy is the thinnest, and the week after Halloween as when many Americans are their fattest.

     Consumers are estimated to be spending $3.6 billion on candy this year, which means inflation will be hitting not only wallets but waistlines, so extra belt-tightening will be nearly impossible, especially if those consumers consume everything they consumed. Luckily, now there's Ozempic to the rescue. By the way, you may have noticed all the previously portly celebrities that are lining up to describe their "weight loss journey," cutting out all those carbs and sugars and embracing Pilates to lose 80 pounds in three months. Not one of them happens to mention that the pharmacist was a convenient stop along the journey....

     No one really knows how we got from pagan ceremonies to candy and pumpkins. In Christian lore, November first is known as All Hallows' Day, a time to celebrate saints and martyrs. The night before became known as Hallows' Eve (or evening, as in "e'en"). Martyrs are most effective when dead, so that might account for the macabre element that came to be associated with the day. It was just a matter of time before witches and monsters lined up for a piece of the action. Goblins were not far behind, but they do have shorter legs. 

     Other customs probably had perfectly understandable beginnings. For instance, we have an all-black cat, which may not necessarily bring bad luck if it crosses your path, but it does tend to throw up a lot, and that's one of its more polite habits, so I wouldn't exactly call it a good luck charm. As far as people carving up pumpkins? If I had to guess, it probably started after harvest time, with a relative that threatened to make pumpkin beer or pumpkin spice muffins one too many times. If you have an annoying relative, a pumpkin and a knife, discretion is the better part of valor. There used to be a party game called "bobbing for apples," which was probably another harvest-related tradition. I doubt there has been an instance of it since the 1970s or so, when it became popular in mob movies to depict an interrogation by holding somebody's head under water until they talked, although it was hard to hear what they said under there. 

     Halloween forces you to define the meaning or "scary." Witches and monsters don't seem particularly scary to me. My sister Kath receives 300 trick-or-treaters on a given Halloween, and THAT seems scary to me. If I really wanted a scary costume I would have go out dressed as Trump's foreign policy.

     I celebrated Halloween by playing a costume party with my band last Saturday, and I was dressed as a "porch pirate," complete with Amazon packages hanging from my fearnaught. Turns out I hadn't even noticed that one of the packages was not actually addressed to me, so once again art imitates life. There was a contest for best outfit, which was won by an ogre. There was also a prize for runner-up which was won by a Taylor Swift, so if for any reason the ogre was unable to fulfill his duties of, say, eating babies, Taylor Swift would then have to take his place, and I suppose, eat a few babies.

     A holiday that embraces cobwebs as a form of decoration does have its advantages, however. My wife was cleaning out the area behind our hot tub and she said there were a ton of cobwebs back there, but she left them alone since Halloween was coming up, and it was easier than putting up fake ones. I'm sure the fact that there were authentic-looking spiders in them also factored into her decision. She told me that if I used this little story that I should call her by an assumed name. So Halloween is over now and there are still cobwebs by the hot tub AND she doesn't answer the assumed name.