Bad Examples

 

1/27/2016

The Lay of the Land

By Lyn Messersmith

Bad Examples

            What kid, when chastened for a questionable behavior, hasn’t looked his/her parent in the eye and said, “Well, you cuss, (smoke, drink beer, and gossip) so why can’t I?”

            I never really wanted to grow up in the first place, because it seemed that grownups have no fun at all. Aside from having to manage money, pay taxes, earn a living, and obey laws, they can’t play hide and seek, dodge ball, or climb trees. All they do is sit around and visit about the old days and people they used to know—how boring is that? Turns out, not very boring at all, but who knew?

            Maybe that explains why I’ve still got enough kid in me to want to sass back now and then.

            Hey, Mr. President, you ask us to car pool, and drive compact cars, but how much did it cost to travel to that climate change conference, and how much air pollution is caused by Air Force One?

How does it make sense for you and the family to fly separately to Hawaii for Christmas vacation?            

We’re supposed to cut down on fossil fuel consumption, so are you using solar or ethanol to power the planes?

Does the White House have recycle bins for paper, plastic, and glass? Has the staff been instructed to buy as little as possible in plastic containers? I trust you have forbidden all bottled water and soda.

            On turning down the thermostat to save energy: do you make the family, and White House staff, wear sweaters and turn down the heat? Does it get turned up again when you entertain heads of state at a dinner party, or does someone pass out sweaters in the receiving line?

            By the way, do those state dinners follow the food plan recommended for school lunches?

            Republicans and Democrats: apparently, the game of “he started it,” and “I’m gonna tell,” are not limited to people under the age of twelve. Since you encourage compromise and civil discourse among the general public, at what level of society should that start?

            I’m eagerly awaiting the political debate where a candidate refuses to argue or engage in accusations; instead simply proposing specific solutions to every issue that is presented.

            One would assume that leaders concerned about an astronomical national debt should economize wherever possible. How many dollars would be saved by requiring members of Congress and their families to live by the same rules as normal citizens? Where is the candidate who proposes that reform?

            How come a handful of protestors in Nevada and Oregon are labeled terrorists, but hundreds of people lying in the street in the nation’s largest city, or stopping traffic on interstates, closing down businesses, looting, burning, and shooting police are not?

            It seems strange when folks who use everyday expressions are accused of hate speech, but the label isn’t applied to rioters chanting, “Pigs in a blanket, fry ‘em like bacon.”

I guess I was right about grownups getting to make different rules for themselves than for kids. Maybe that’s only fun they have, but lately you have to wonder who the real grownups are.

When called on the matter of double standards, my mom would laughingly say, “Do as I say, not as I do.” But she didn’t really mean it; if anyone tried to play fair, it was my mother.

She, and her peers, didn’t hold much with excuses or letting anyone off the hook, either. We kids could count on hearing this line whenever a squabble was in progress.

“I don’t care who started it. I’m going to end it!”

Ok. All REAL grownups line up over here. Somebody has got to end it.

The View

1/20/2016

The Lay of the Land

By Lyn Messersmith

The View

I’ve not watched the TV show called The View, only bits of it that were replayed elsewhere. To me, there’s nothing funny about ladies (a term I use loosely) talking trash. Maybe I’ve just been on the wrong end of snarky humor too many times.

I’d rather laugh at the antics of Ma Nature’s kids. The pheasant that hangs out under our bird feeder, waiting for blackbirds to strew some seed on the ground for him, and the black tomcat that pretends to challenge the pheasant and then walks on by looking the other way, as if to say, “Just kidding”. Kittens that chase Mamma Cat’s tail for entertainment, while she endures the foolishness with a bored expression. A kitten that’s literally out on a limb which will barely hold him, and puzzled about how to remedy the dilemma.

It’s interesting what creatures of habit they are. Dusk finds the pheasant population lined out for the swamp, where they spend the night, Dawn will bring them out, right to a certain corner of the yard, where they feed till sometime after sunup. Afternoon has them in the driveway, or on the road, and sometimes we have to stop and wait for them to move out of the way before we can continue our journey.

Maggie goes out somewhere in the neighborhood of 2 am. She is certain that something is out there which needs chasing away, but too cowardly to pursue it beyond the porch. Back indoors after a few barks, she gets on the bed and does her best to crowd us out. Of an evening, she waits for me to get out of the shower and settle down with a book before demanding to go out and bark. Mama Cat will come in when Maggie goes out, and tries to find an inconspicuous place to nap, in hopes that we’ll forget her at bedtime.

A herd of a hundred odd antelope can be found most afternoons on a neighbor’s field. But by summer they will have evaporated. Do they migrate to Wyoming?

One time last summer we returned from an outing pretty late. As usual, we both were on deer watch, having learned the hard way what happens to people who forget to be. I warned of something in the road ahead, too low to be a deer. Cougar? We’ve had some sightings, but always in daylight.

Puzzled. For all the world, it resembled the sea monsters portrayed in books—a long body that stretched all the way across the highway, humping along in a hurry. We screeched to a stop just in time to see the tail disappearing into a field and identify raccoons. There must have been fifteen or twenty; two or three families traveling together with parents in the lead and bringing up the rear. Someone’s cornfield was going to look a lot different come daylight.

There’s occasional evidence of man’s intervention too. Roadkill. A coyote hung on a fence, or scarecrow in a field. Some of the scenarios make sense, others not so much. Animals sometimes turn up in places they aren’t supposed to inhabit. Our neighbors had a family of wolverines in their meadow several summers ago. They don’t live on the prairie, everyone knows that. But these did. I guess, like people, four-leggeds tend to get themselves in weird situations, either by chance or poor choices.

Ever see a dead lizard or snake on a fence post? Likely left by a bird of prey; chances are he didn’t climb up there for the view. A friend tells of finding a turtle on a fence post, and I know of at least one snapping turtle that ended up in a rural mailbox. You have to wonder how they liked the view from there. One thing is certain. Neither of them got there by themselves.

Hope and Change

1/13/2016

The Lay of the Land

By Lyn Messersmith

Hope and Change

            It was about eight years ago that we began hearing that slogan. Sounded good at the time, but we forgot to ask whose hope, and what kind of change. I suppose, for some of us, the promise has been fulfilled, but if that is so, how come we have people protesting in the streets, more controversy, discontent and fear than any time in recent memory?

            We’re off and running now, into another election year, and a new crop of slogans and promises. One prominent candidate claims he will make America great again, but he’s about as short on specifics as the hope and change guy was. Still, a fair amount of folks are rallying to that cry, mostly because they’re sick and tired of the same old system, and hoping for a change.

            Do you ever wonder what would happen if Americans stopped acting like victims and looking for someone to rescue them? It has happened. Somewhere along in the late 1700’s a bunch of raggedy rebels gave up their fortunes, reputations and sometimes their lives, to effect the changes that they believed in. These days, too many of our leaders are only concerned with job security and making a name for themselves.

            A little more than half a century has passed since we were advised to “Ask not what your country can do for you, but what you can do for your country.” The voters old enough to recall who said that are probably a minority, and even fewer have any kind of notion what would help our country become great again.

            I think there’s a reason why the Greatest Generation got that name. Those people didn’t have much, and were threatened with losing what they did have. So they became willing to sacrifice and work for the common good, in the hope that generations to follow would have it better. They achieved that goal, but in the process, something was lost: the knowledge that greatness, success, and yes, even happiness, are never achieved on the backs of others.

            I grew up, as many of my peers did, with a plethora of slogans that we hated, but knew were true, and they shaped our lives for better or worse.

“Nobody owes you anything.”

“Your rights end where my nose begins.”

“Treat others as you want to be treated.”

“Save for a rainy day.”

“Mind your own business but help out where you can.”

            I’ve better things to do in 2016 than argue politics so here’s about all I have to say about that. We’re only victims once. After that we’re volunteers. I don’t care who your guy or gal is, or what promises they make, they’ll never rescue you, or America. Hope and change are an inside job, and we’d better all get busy remodeling our attitudes.