color in the sky, dog in the swing

Spent a lot of time in the car this week.  The weather has been variable, to say the least, and we set a record with a robust 69 degrees a couple days ago, but those bucolic blue skies are still hard to find in northern Ohio.  Not an ideal setup for picture snapping.  I look forward to taking many more pictures of a couple of my work destinations, and the scenery along the way, once there are leaves on the trees and - with a little luck - the skies brighten up. 

 

Then, tonight, coming home from work, I was led along by this rainbow, or at least one good leg of a rainbow.  This was of some interest because the sermon last Sunday included, among other things, references to rainbows as signs of assurance.  I guess I like the idea of coming home on a Friday evening with a sign of assurance in the sky.  Nevertheless, on one run I seem to be making lately, I always have to take a pic or two of Tappan Lake, so here is what I got while speeding along at 55 mph or so...

But enough about the big natural order of things.  Let's dwell briefly on how nature also brings chaos, of a certain four-legged variety.  Herewith, the requisite dog pic. 

I forgot to toss in this somewhat older picture I shot out the side window of a speeding car on a trip to southeastern Ohio several months ago.  I had passed this abandoned church a couple times, and it has
always intrigued me. 

                                         

And we leave you with our daughter's dog, Lilly, oddly at peace with the world, as long as the swing was in motion.  I believe if it kept swinging, she would have taken a significant nap. 

Hope Springs Eternal; Dogs aren't springing anywhere

I had not been out in the yard for a while, but I was scouting around today, cleaning up some fallen branches, replenishing the bird seed, and the like, I noticed this little guy trying to put a little bloom into the surroundings.  Well, it is still mid-February in northern Ohio, and although this has been the mildest winter I can remember thus far, there is still plenty of time for things to get nasty out there. 

I wish this little flowering plant the best of luck; it's going to need it.

Meanwhile, inside the house, the dogs are doing their best to appear (and actually be) as comfortable as possible.  They pretty much have it made, only having to brave the elements to take care of business.  This high comfort level was demonstrated capably by Chloe this afternoon. 

According to the American Heritage Dictionary, the phrase, "It's a dog's life" is:  "n. Slang
A miserably unhappy existence."  From the looks of the picture above, and my experience with these animals around the house, I beg to differ!

Pop Goes the Culture

Okay, this really won't take long, and then I will feel better.  Maybe you will, too.  An item in this morning's paper sort of set me off.  It stated something like this: "Angelina Jolie snubs Stacy Keibler on Private Jet".  This caused me to stop chewing my cereal and ponder who in the world would need to read beyond this headline.  Does anyone need the deep facts behind the snub?  And how far has American journalism come when some editor decides to devote precious ink to this breaking, unfolding story?  This, in the age of the shrinking newspaper, where fewer stories are picked up, and fewer paragraphs are devoted to each story.  Right now, some editor is probably pondering: "Hmm, Europe's economy teetering on the brink of collapse, or, no..wait a minute!  Pretty sure that's a new hair color for Justin Bieber.  Run with the Bieber!"

I am aware that the National Enquirer and its ilk have been around since I was a small pup, and TV shows like Hollywood Extra or TMZ or whatever it's called populate the pre-primetime hour, and enough people turn in their Arbitrons or Nielsons saying they watch this stuff to generate advertising dollars and keep the shows running.  I am also aware that there has always been this fascination with our glamorous Hollywood "royalty", and the lives of the millionaire celebs.  I get that.

What I don't get are the objects of our fascination.  I will grant that the aforementioned Angelina Jolie has some acting acumen and in some quarters she is viewed as a humanitarian for taking on half the third world as her personal family.  So I am not so much pointing this discussion at her (except to note, again, that I do not understand why anyone would care who she snubs on a private jet, unless maybe it is the Pope, and even then, actually, I don't really care, although I may be a tad curious about the booking of THAT flight). 

Back in the olden days, people were fascinated by the like of Grace Kelly, who gave up a pretty distinguished acting career to marry a Prince and become the Princess of Monaco.  Now, to me, that is interesting on several levels.  What movies did she appear in?  How does one throw that heady lifestyle and one's home country away?  Where is Monaco and how does an entire country exist mainly by providing a gambling venue for James Bond? 

Now, however, the masses appear to follow a different breed of celeb.  I offer as Exhibit A the picture at the top of this post.  These people I understand to be known as the Kardashians, a seemingly solid Armenian surname.  I also understand that millions of people follow their nearly every move.  I have yet to understand the nature of their contribution to human progress, or the arts, or philanthropy, or the sciences.  I don't get out to the movies much, but have I missed some cinematic magic in which one or more of them appear?  Someone may say: "But the mom married Bruce Jenner."  Okay...THAT provides some basis for much further discussion and fawning!

Here is what the Kardashians have contributed, as far as I can research it:  They have partially averted America's thirst for celeb news away from Paris Hilton. And for that, I'm here to offer my teensiest bit of gratitude.

I would go on, but it would inevitably lead to a discussion of the whole "Snooki" thing, and I'd rather just not go there. 

BYE-BYE BUILDINGS

Two iconic area buildings are being reduced to piles of rock and memories of better days.  Yesterday, hundreds gathered around the boat basin up in Huron, Ohio, to watch some Idaho-based demolitions experts detonate enough strategically placed explosives to force the seven-story Con Agra building to implode and fall to earth.  The City made a festive day of it, with fireworks beforehand, t-shirts, reserved seating for ticketholders, and lots of tailgating and partying.  The building site, which is prime waterfront real estate, will be developed into some mix of private business and public river access. 

 

 

A different mood prevailed at the site of the Seneca County Courthouse in Tiffin, Ohio, this morning.  Various people and organizations had tried to piece together enough funding to save and preserve the courthouse, but their efforts fell short, and the County Commissioners voted (2-1) to demolish the building and, when times are better, build anew.  Offices had already relocated and the building has sat empty for some time.

I drove by the courthouse this morning after a couple meetings in Tiffin, and snapped what may be one of the last pictures of an intact courthouse (with protestors and their signs in view).  Later this afternoon, a crane with a large wrecking ball began pounding the southwest corner of the courthouse.  A picture from the Toledo Blade attests to its initial damage.

 The Seneca County Courthouse, still intact, and its supporters, as I drove by this morning.

 Later this afternoon, as the wrecking ball went into action..

I have been around both buildings over the years, and had meetings in the courthouse many years ago.  I suppose the failure to be able to spend extra funds to renovate and reuse the courthouse is a sign of these austere times, and it probably makes economic sense to do away with a white elephant such as this, but it still feels like an important former source of pride is now gone forever, and Seneca County has lost an important part of its identity. 

Wrapping Up 2011: "You Can Go Home Again"

 

It is always a pleasure to take to the Turnpike and point the car back home.  It is not just a change in scenery to head home - it is a trip back in time.  I can pick up discussions with my sister, father, friends, wherever they were left off last time.  Evidently I can still get whupped in a game of Go with my dad.  It is also good for this country boy to get back to his suburban roots.  I have always pretty much seen the good in urban and rural environments - I like them both.  I like the silence and solitude here in northern Ohio, but I also get a charge from that urban pace of life, all the people moving around presumably going somewhere important, and all the things to do and see and eat and hear.

This trip allowed a mere three full days in the Baltimore region.  Just opportunity enough to see the family, and maybe one friend who goes way back to a time when our ages were one digit.  And we had time for a frenetic trip to the mall to pick up some necessities (and to determine that, with the demise of many book and music stores, even one of the nicest malls in the country really does not really hold much appeal to me). 

We were able to get out into the city for a day, to eat the required "best crab cakes in Baltimore", to eat the required diner dinner (and bring over half of it back home in a box), and to have some discussion with Dad, and silliness with Sister.  It's all cathartic; all good.

We spent a few hours on the last day walking around Ellicott City, which has been visited by this blog in the past.  Initially settled early in our country's history, home of the terminus of the first rail line in the country, now full of cool little shops, antique malls, and restaurants. it has much going for it.  Its appearance is worlds away from that in nearby Baltimore.  The hillsides formed by the Patapsco River and its tributaries add a lot of character to the place.

One of the best experiences of the week occurred by chance when son William and I walked up a hillside road, mainly to avoid the inevitable shopping expedition fomented by others, but also out of curiosity.  And man, was my curiosity satisfied!  As we walked by what appeared to be an abandoned church, a woman walked up and asked if we were in town for the day.

I responded, "Well, a couple hours, anyway"
"Would you like a brief history of the town?  I am the county historian."
Then, "Would you two like a personal tour of the county museum?" (the "abandoned" church")
"Absolutely!"
The tour ensued, and included a chance to play the still-installed church organ and a small, portable, bellows-operated keyboard sitting nearby.  The historian/curator was as enthusiastic about her work as we were about the contents of the place.  It was a fun hour or so, and we were not missed by the shoppers.

My current wish for 2012 (aside from world peace, good health, and a bull market) is for more little chance events like that to pop up and make things interesting. 

Some pictures:

 Looking up in the Inner Harbor Barnes and Noble.  An adaptive reuse of a former power plant.  Cool

 The National Aquarium back there to the left.

 A shopping space downtown.

 Busy space in the city.

 Big, loud fun in the Howard County Museum. 

 Looking down on Ellicott City from a street well above the flood line.

 A very small hotel called the "Obladi".  It has four rooms - can you guess who they are named for? 

 This is just a bit of nostalgia for me.  This game was spotted in an antique mall.  

We had this game when I was a kid.  Does this make me an antique?

 Street scene in Ellicott City.  The museum curator said the town was presumably supposed to remind the visitor of a Welsh town, but she frankly does not see it herself.

Two family members at my sister's.  Bella (the pug, facing the camera) 

and Athena (the Boston lookin' the other way.)

sounds of the season

Being  a music nut, I have to admit that the music is a big part of my Christmas.  There are songs I enjoy, and then there are songs that need to be expunged from America's radio waves forever.  Christmas music (and music that I associate with Christmas) can be sorted into several categories.

First and perhaps foremost, there are the old favorites, the carols that we sang as children and many of us still carry on with, relying on the old hymnal for those sixth and seventh verses that no one really knows or cares to remember.  I still love the old songs.  I think my favorite over the years, and still today, is "Silent Night".  One of the best features of this song is that there are a gazillion ways to play the song with oddball chords.  We practiced a homemade (by our drummer, the music major) version tonight with all these crazy minor sevenths and such - if you sing right over it with the normal tune, it sounds just right.

I used to pretend to be a purist, claiming to prefer Adeste Fidelis - in Latin.  I am not much of a singer, but I have also always harbored a secret desire to crash one of these all-community Handel's Messiah Sing-Alongs and get in on the Hallelujahs.  Perhaps it would not be the best idea.  Anyhow, I am not quite this old school today, but I does like me some carols.

The second category of Christmas tune would be the "contemporary Christian" take on Christmas.  These songs are not classics yet, and some should never attain that status.  But some are, in my humble opinion, very good, and some even quite moving.  A couple that our band is doing over the coming couple of weeks are "Mary Did You know?" and "One King".  I like 'em both a lot.

The third category is probably the best-known lot of tunes out there.  These are the "secular", if you will, pop culture Christmas tunes from past and present.  These are the songs that, frankly, I tire of quickly.  Some should never be heard.  Some should be retired forever and dropped in a flaming pit.  My son wrote on Facebook today that he wished to never. ever. hear the song, "Santa Baby".  I am not sure I am familiar with that ditty, but based on the wretched title alone, it should be banished. 

Some in this category are quite decent and I enjoy hearing them for, say, the first twenty times each year.  I like it when John Lennon sings in that fine, nasal voice that can only be his, "and so this is Christmas" and I have even come around to like the McCartney song with the really, REALLY cheesy synth.  I am on the verge of being annoyed by Elvis and his Blue Christmas, and some of the novelty numbers (Alvin, Grandma's unfortunate reindeer incident) are losing their luster over time.  I have an issue with the concept of having yourself a "merry little Christmas".  That seems condescending and limiting.  Why not go for a humongous Christmas? 

I could go on, because there are a zillion of these songs.  Even songs that we all associate with Christmas but which really have nothing to do with the birth of Christ, or Santa Claus, or even world peace.  I present as exhibit a: Snoopy Vs. the Red Baron by the Royal Guardsmen.  Exactly where does an aerial dogfight involving an actual dog have a place in Christmas lore?   

This leads, sorta, to my final category: music that has no connection to Christmas except in my head.  For example, I received, as did a friend or two, a copy of the Beatles' "Magical Mystery Tour" one Christmas, so this, for me, has become Christmas music.  I played it today, in fact, and it helped put me in the holiday spirit.  I am sure the psychologists would drone on about transference or some concept, but, hey, it works for me.  I also recall the year that my friend Gerald showed up to join me on campus over Thanksgiving, and seeing as how my college was out in the middle of nowhere and essentially shut down for Thanksgiving, he brought me four albums I had requested (and paid for upon delivery). So since I played them a lot between that white Thanksgiving in rural Ohio and Christmas, I think of each of them as holiday or seasonal, if not Christmas, music.  These include LPs by Harry Chapin, Dan Fogelberg, the Genesis epic, "The Lamb Lies Down on Broadway", and the one that I still bust out and play at Christmas because it somehow works for me as a little Christmas season drama, the Electric Light Orchestra's "Eldorado".  Someone on one of the B-grade cable networks should commission a holiday movie making "Eldorado" into a fine little musical.  It would be great!

I leave you with what has lately been one of my favorite holiday records, although I cannot vouch for its theology, but I just enjoy it.  That is, Jethro Tull's Christmas Album. The cover is even pretty nifty, and there, down in the lower left-hand corner, is a little Ian Anderson, still doing the one-legged flautist thing.  This is, in fact, Jethro Tull's last studio album, and late word is that the band is "on ice", which means they are skating away on the thin ice of a new day, so this may be Tull's swan song (or songs), I fear.  

Anyhow, whatever your preferences, I hope you are hearing or making the sounds you like this "holiday season".


 

The Neighborhood Band

Tonight was one of those perfect evenings to walk the dogs. A bit of cold creeping in, rain subsided but giving way to a lively wind that played the trees and sent the scattered clouds up across the crescent moon. The dogs didn't take much note of the weather, which I believe is immaterial to them. They were out walking and that was good enough.

We took the usual path, down to the neighborhood park, back by another road. All the popular trees were properly sniffed; olfactory news was obtained, and Ollie made his frequent entries in the discourse; a dog's version of a tweet, I suppose.

When I am alone with the dogs, the pace is about as brisk as the dogs allow. Of course, they break my stride to explore or cross paths or do what dogs do on walks. But they have gotten better as a team; Ollie in the left and Chloe on the right seems to suit them, and they resume that formation after straying.

On the way back, we passed a house that, as I understand it, is home to a working band, known as the Womack Family Band. I like the name, especially since no one in the band is named Womack. I know they tend to go out on tours, reaching far-off towns. They recently took along another local talented guy named Chris Castle on what they called the "Drenched Earth Tour", perhaps a play on Bob Dylan's '60s Scorched Earth Tour which, if I am not mistaken, included members of The Band, a fairly generic-sounding outfit that included Robbie Robertson, Levon Helm, and some others.

The Band lived and recorded in a somewhat famous house that became known as Big Pink. I guess the house by the park is the Womack's Big Pink, although, thankfully, it is not pink. Regardless, I think bands, especially fairly mellow ones like this, make good and interesting neighbors, and I wish them success. Should you want to check them out, they have several pretty neat videos on Youtube; a more artful one that was partially shot at our local reservoir (which appears fairly frequently on this URL), can be accessed by clicking here.

The Kick at the Finish

When I used to run the half-mile in track, there was always supposed to be that "kick" at the finish where everyone sped up and gave it their all. I believe 2011 is taking a lesson from the world of track, because there seems to be a "kick" at the end of it as well, speeding toward the finish. Kind of a shame, really, because there are parts of this season to really savor.

A plus, from my viewpoint, is that Christmas shopping does not hold the place of prominence it once did. I mean, it is still important to get nice things for various loved ones, but it gets easier when you realize you cannot even hope to buy acceptable clothes for the kids who are now twenty-somethings. Gift cards become great options for those who really want them - and it seems that many do.

Here are a handful of pictures representing the blur that has been the past couple of weeks.
My wife's work carving the Halloween pumpkin featuring our two dogs.
Fall scene.
This was the view through the skylight at a friend's house in Michigan.
Our Ollie got attacked by a killer bee-gle on Halloween.
And below, I am pretty sure it was one of a pair of cormorants out at the Conservation Club a while ago.

It was meant for Squirrels

We had an Occupy Squirrel Feeder movement going on in the back yard this morning. I guess the birds figure they are the other 99 percent. So I say, "have at it!"

100K

About ten miles from home tonight, the ol' Impala's odometer hit 100,000 miles. Funny; I still think of it as the "new car". And it is not that old; I probably put upwards of 30K on it every year.

The most recent repair was a minor one, but a small victory nonetheless. It needed a new low beam headlamp. I decided this was low enough on the mechanic aptitude scale that I could take on the challenge myself. Bought the bulb and got out the manual. Made the requisite three to five trips into the house to get the right tools (I overthought it, bringing out the entire socket set, two Phillips screwdrivers and three or four "regulars"). The project went quite well, as projects go, and I got the new lamp in the socket and put the assembly back in place with no spare parts sitting around.

Which was a good thing, as I was driving in the wet darkness this morning on my way to run a 7:30 meeting about 45 minutes from home. The meeting went well, but I had hoped to take some pictures around that town after the meeting, to embellish a report I am writing for them, and, let's just say this morning would have gotten the Carpenters down, if you know their oeuvre.

Of course, I got back to the office and the sun popped out and stayed out for the rest of the day. It was so nice that when I pulled in the driveway tonight, I aimed the camera up at the old maple out by the street and she was lookin' good. I believe peak color has pretty much peaked, though, so I had better get back and get those pictures if I don't want things to look too bleak.

I am also perturbed by the conflicting weather forecasts I have been hearing. Yesterday, it was all "It's going to be 70 degrees by the end of the week". Now, today, they are invoking the "S" word. How does the weather forecast drop by 40 degrees that quickly?

On the other hand, I always get a laugh out of all of our reactions around here when we hear about s--- in the forecast. We are so astonished that such a forecast could possibly be bestowed upon us here in, oh yeah, Northern Ohio, near Lake Erie, which also borders, oh yeah, CANADA. Let's face it, this time of year, s--- happens. But for now, before all these leaves are knocked senseless and left to drift onto our lawns, to be raked or blown into piles and sent off to muncipal compost piles, let's enjoy what color is left.

On the Cusp of Recovery...Maybe?

My work has recently taken me down to the Ohio Valley in eastern Ohio. It is a different world from my comfort zone of the flat farmlands of northwest Ohio. For decades, the lure of the moving water and underground resources brought coal mining, steelmaking, and energy production to the once tranquil valley. In recent years, much of the industry that operated on such a grand scale has been downsized - scaled way back, leaving hulking, vacant monstrosities of buildings and countless Brownfields where thousands used to hold down grueling but relatively well-paying jobs.

So it was surprising to tune into the ABC news a couple nights ago and watch a piece on "Steubenville: Boomtown". I've gotten to know a few folks in Steubenville, and they are not expecting a miraculous turnaround anytime soon. What they do expect is a large number of temporary jobs, followed by a long period with modest gains over today's job scene. And they'll take it.

The catalyst? All that natural gas lurking underground, in amongst what they call the Marcellus and Utica shale formations. They have to inject high pressure fluids and chemicals down there to fracture the rocks and drive the gas out. They call it "fracking". It is somewhat controversial, and the industry types and environmentalists have been duking it out in New York and Pennsylvania for some time. Now Ohio's turn has come, and with a little trepidation, the Ohio Valley is excited to see the "next best thing".

Panacea for the Valley? Nah. Good jobs for a decent number of people? Yup. Drilling rights and steady income for landowners? Could be. More wealth to be spent in the Valley, at the corner deli, local restaurant, car dealer? Definitely. So, though I hug the occasional tree, I cannot scoff at this as a shot in the arm, not to mention the rock, of the region.

I was down in the area yesterday. I have visited twice during our usually-gorgeous Fall Foliage Season. Both days have been gloomy though, with too much pouring down rain. Despite the gloom, here are a handful of pictures from my day in the Valley.

Massive power plants coexist with the river valley, all along the Ohio border
from Pittsburgh to Cincinnati.

A pretty impressive church in Steubenville, from back in the day when they built 'em to impress man and God.
Scene along Route 7 - a pretty interesting ride.
I just wanted to document that I got to see some blue sky. Actually, this was just about it for the whole day, just as i was crossing the border into Jefferson County (where I was headed; note the welcoming sign). A good omen?
Driving along 7, sometimes I just pointed the camera out a side window and snapped a random shot. I like this one, with the houses dwarfed by the huge plant behind them. The size of so many installations along the river is amazingly immense.
And last, despite civilization's incursion into the Valley, not to mention cutting big pathways into the rock to route the traffic, there is plenty of beauty to be found.

fall, that fleeting blur of color on the way to something else

If autumn would hang around and just be like it was this past weekend, all would be well. But we know what follows, which makes it all the more precious, and we watch the leaves fall like sand in the hourglass (sounds like an old soap, dunnit?). It's not "peak color" around here yet, but it is getting close. We had a chance to get out in the weather and the leaves on Saturday. Then on Sunday we drove down to Columbus to see (a) an old college friend; (b) our son, hanging out with us at a coffee shop; (c) a friend who had some furniture she wanted to part with, and which our daughter could use; and (d) Linda's mom, on the way home. Pretty good, jam-packed itenerary. The sunset on the way home as we traveled up Route 23 was spectacular; the camera only caught a portion of the entire show.
Before we took in all this autumnal beauty, Linda did her annual gig giving away books at a "fall fun fair" put on by our County Soil and Water Conservation Service. The book give-away was courtesy of a thing called "First Book", which strives to put books into the hands of kids, many of whom I suspect may not have any otherwise. A sad comment, but I would bank on it being true in many cases.

Oh, and there was a petting zoo. With a llama. And a horse-drawn wagon side.
I hope you are enjoying your fall - while you can!!!

If You Have To Be At A Work-Related Training Event All Weekend...

...you can hope it is at a place like the one I just spent my last weekend, from Friday at dinner time until Monday at noon. The venue was the 2,500 acre home base of the Edward Lowe Foundation near Cassopolis, Michigan. Evidently Mr. Lowe made a significant pile of money in his time, and generously spent it developing this treasure. It seems he was the inventor of Kitty Litter, and there was big money resulting from purveying the stuff to the world's cat owners.

The sleeping accommodations are a little off the beaten track. Boxcars. But cleverly converted ones, each able to sleep eight, with a nice bathroom and a central sitting room. I guess the designing hand of Mr. and Mrs. Lowe are all over the place. Here are the boxcars, inside and out.


There was a nice fire pit in the middle of the boxcars, and those in charge had a nice fire going every night I was there. The first night involved making s'mores.

On the way from the boxcars to the conference building is Billieville, a simulation of a small downtown from the turn of the century. I guess Mrs. Lowe's middle name is Billie... This is what Billieville looks like.

Then there is the "cabin" that overlooks a valley and pond. I could happily spend a week here with binoculars, enough books, and it wouldn't hurt to have the food service that spoiled us this weekend...


The foundation is serious about good environmental practices, and their 2,500 acres and its plant and animal inhabitants are well cared for. They follow several best practices in maintaining the environmental integrity, and I only wish I had more time to explore the place.

That last picture is for my sis.