S.C. Dixon-ary

Sunday I was fixing our dinner and while waiting for the water to boil I stood gazing out the backdoor window. At the base of the concrete steps I could see about four-foot of the tail of a blue racer snake, the head was hidden by a bush.

I used to see a racer that nested under those steps but I definitely didn’t see it all last year and I don’t believe I had seen it the year before, either.

I called Paula in and we watched it for a while. She asked why it wasn’t moving and I said I imagined that either it was shedding its skin or it was eating something.

Black snakes, garter snakes, racers and even the ill-tempered bull snakes are friends to farmers and those of us in rural settings. They do as good a job keeping the vermin down as a barn cat with the added benefit that we don’t have to give away a box of their offspring two or three times a year.

(I can’t remember the last time I saw a sign in front of a house saying “free snakettes…cute!”)

Of course with all our trees, rocks, shrubs and hiding places I’m sure we have more snakes on our 9 acres than we could imagine, but for the most part very few of us meet very few of them which is probably the best for both species in the long run.

(We have three poisonous types of snakes in Kansas. The cottonmouth moccasin is debated, some say they don’t live here but any outdoorsman knows that they do, though they’re certainly not common. We have the copperhead, a beautiful and very reclusive snake that lives in moist woodland areas and around water,

(We have several subspecies of rattlesnakes in Kansas, the most common in our area being the massasauga, which is an Indian word meaning “swamp dweller,” but one can find them about anywhere, near water or far from it, in tall grass, around rocks, etc.

(Anywhere there is cover/suitable habitat)

Anyway, after watching our racer I thought that there might be just enough light for a few photographs. I went out the other door to the garage and fetched the camera from the car and walked quietly around to the other side.

The snake was still there. The dog was accompanying me and I assumed there would be a ruckus, but Dido has apparently dealt with snakes before, unbeknownst to us, and was very demure. Not only didn’t she bark, she sauntered off rather sheepishly as though she had a previous and important commitment.

Again, I was impressed by the size of the snake, as much as I could see, and concluded this was my old pal from year’s back who had found a very secure and successful place to hole up, underneath our front steps.

I reached down and gave the tail a tug.

Immediately the snake started squirming backwards, toward me, which is unusual behavior. When its head cleared the bush it was under I could immediately see what was up. In its mouth and down its gullet was about 6 inches of a very, very large garter snake.

It had its lunch going down, head first, and out of its fear for me was regurgitating its dinner.

Frankly I didn’t know that snakes could do this and I’m reasonably certainly that many, if not most, cannot. Once the process is started they have to continue swallowing their prey.

Slowly a mucous and blood covered garter snake emerged backwards from the racer’s mouth. The big snake looked at me as disdainfully as a snake can, and crawled through the crack in the step to its burrow within.

I felt badly that I had waited so long to interfere. It would have been one thing if the racer had caught a rat or mouse but I hated to lose another great rodent predator in the way of the garter snake. Besides, this particular garter snake was an old-timer, among the biggest I’ve ever seen.

As I stood looking at it I noted that the garter snake had begun to flick its black tongue out. Within a minute or two it raised its head and then slowly crawled off into the vegetation.

I cannot say whether it lived. A snake’s digestive juices are very potent and start to work immediately. (One time I pulled a giant bullfrog out of a diamond-back water snakes mouth. The snake had the frog by one of its legs. At the end of the day I was walking back the same way and found the frog on the pond dam, dead, and the leg that had been in the snake’s mouth was brown and shrunken, as though mummified. In the end, by interfering with the natural order of things, the frog died anyway and the snake went hungry.)

Anyhow, it wasn’t an important occurrence but an odd one. Now that I read back over this it’s not a particularly exciting event, but it is a slice of life in the country.

I’ve gotta think that about now Barack Obama is seriously regretting the day he became involved with the goofy buffoon known as the “Reverend” Jeremiah Wright. If anything stops Obama’s nomination it will surely be, in large part, due the antics of this fool.

His circumlocutios histrionics are amusing to watch, in a bizarre way, but I am so amazed at the liberal pundits who keep talking about how “eloquent” Wright is.

Eloquent? I suppose if you don’t count syntax and content you might find him “eloquent,” in much the same way that Al Sharpton is “eloquent,” in that they both like to “speechify” and rant and make spectacles of themselves.

But when I think of eloquent I think of people like Robert Kennedy, Winston Churchill, or Barack Obama. I certainly don’t think of hatemongers and rabble-rousers.

To add insult to injury Wright is now demeaning the accents of former presidents*,  and is once again resurrecting the ridiculous concept that “Ebonics” are real. Anyone who has traveled to Europe knows that American Black speech patterns have nothing to do with so-called Ebonics or anything else known in the real world. When speaking English, Blacks in Germany do not have any noticeable similarities in speech comparable to American Blacks, ditto France and England. I can attest to that by first hand knowledge.

Of course the problem of Ebonics is much more than a problem with accent*. It has to do with the “big picture of basic enunciation/pronunciation/composition/grammar/syntax.

(Ebonics is little more than an embarrassing concept conceived by liberal educators meant as yet another excuse as to why it is acceptable to demonstrate to generations of kids that it is not necessary to learn serviceable English.) (more…)

I’m not clear on America’s phobia about polygamists.

It just seems weird to me that, a country founded on religious freedom, albeit by the Puritans, arguably one of the most obnoxious bigoted religious groups in history, that one of the oldest religious and cultural practices on earth is so abhorred in “the land of the free.”

In case you’re wondering I am NOT a polygamist. I can’t image why any man in his right mind would want more than ONE wife (if indeed, that many) let alone 5, 10, 15, whatever.

By the same token, I can’t imagine why a woman would want to be wife #2 or #22 or #202.

(Obviously, if the roles were reversed, it might be understandable why a woman would want multiple husbands, but only if they all had jobs and she could afford domestic help.)

Besides that, and back to my point, in this great country of ours you can be a jihadist and preach death to everybody who doesn’t think like you do, you can practice voodoo and sacrifice a goat before breakfast and eat its viscera along with your morning java while you design a doll of your neighbor and stick pins into it to punish him for that unfortunate business with his dog and your new lawn, you can have children who can be raised by “two mommies” or “two daddies,” you can refuse to fight in wars, you can refuse life-saving medical treatment, if you’re inclined you can even pass around poisonous snakes like hissing party favors, you can practice ritual mutilation of male genitalia (though female “circumcision” is, I believe, illegal), if you’re not too stoned you can argue your way out of a ticket and jail time for possession of ganja by arguing that you are a Rastafarian,  if your are a member of the American Indian Church you can take peyote and other cool hallucinogenic drugs. (more…)

I believe in a free-market economy. In America anyone with a skill or talent, or anyone willing to work or provide a service can prosper. Like most business people, small or large, I abhor intervention from nameless, faceless entities that without scrutiny can mutate into a ruling class unto themselves. I loathe the creeping intervention of the so-called “nanny state” into our personal lives. Now there are city governments taking on the roll of arbiters of what foods we are allowed to serve or consume. (We have a growing lobby of people demanding the eradication of incandescent light bulbs. Instead replace them with fluorescent bulbs that cost the consumer 4 times as much and which bring quantities of mercury, which we’re now told is a deadly biohazard, into our homes. ) The road to hell is paved with good intentions. The front page article of the Emporia Gazette, Friday, April 11^th, 2008 concerning a new advocacy group, Clean Air Emporia, gave me a vague sense of apprehension . I am co-owner of a local nightspot. Three partners, two of whom DO NOT smoke cigarettes, discussed whether or not our place would be smoke-free. We decided, at least for the time being, to allow smoking in our business. Because we own the business, because we pay the bills and the considerable taxes, it is our right to make that decision. The next phase of this equation rests with our clientele. Spending their own money gives them the right to decide whether or not to patronize our business. If they choose to be in a smoke free environment it is inarguably their right to avoid our pub. If they choose to smoke or to be around those who do, it is likewise their right to make that decision. Nothing in this scenario invites or requires the arbitrary input or decision from any 3^rd party entity. Millions and millions of taxpayer dollars are spent on anti-smoking campaigns and propaganda. Conversely millions and millions of taxpayer dollars are spent subsidizing tobacco growers. Rather than interfering with business and the free market, groups wanting to control tobacco use should instead consider spending their time and efforts petitioning a government that speaks conveniently from both sides of its collective mouth. Many state governments have successfully sued the tobacco giants promising to use the money to rehabilitate smokers and to provide healthcare for folks who have suffered from using tobacco related products. They also promised us all a large slice of pie to be served somewhere high in the stratosphere. Simple research showed that by and large they have lied. It is also noteworthy that tobacco is not an illegal substance. It is grown, processed, and distributed by legal means, albeit heavily controlled by state and federal law. It is widely quoted that Albert Einstein once said that “The definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results.” With that in mind I urge folks to revisit their history books and to read about a period not so long ago in American history. A time when the high and mighty capriciously decided what would be best for everyone else, whether they liked it or not. A “morale mandate,” so to speak. A sweeping reform, the 18^th Amendment to the U. S. Constitution was passed “for the good of the nation and its people.” It unleashed a period of political and law enforcement corruption the magnitude of which the country had never seen. By the end of the period known as “Prohibition” organized crime had grown a hundred fold and the repercussions are still felt today. After 13 years of graft, corruption, fraud, murder, mayhem, and the creation of a black market of international dimensions, the so-called “Nobel Experiment” failed… as it was doomed to do from the start, because in the end it is true that governments cannot (successfully) legislate their own particular brand of “morality.” Educating the public is one thing, legislating is another. I choose not to live as a Socialist. Let me decide what is best for me. I will extend the same courtesy to you.

Why do I keep seeing Michael Moore’s moon of a face on my television and in the newspaper? Why is anyone still paying any attention to this guy when he has proven himself to be absolutely ineffective and politically impotent?

ROGER AND ME certainly did not bring down General Motors. In the end the film was little more than a gnat hovering around the rump of the corporate giant.

There are still guns in schools despite BOWLING FOR COLUMBINE.

Mike’s films certainly didn’t stop W. from being reelected.

Honestly now, just what are this guy’s credentials in the real world? Why would anyone continue to think of him as any sort of force in ANY arena, be it political or “entertainment”?

Now I read he’s supporting Obama. Shouldn’t that scare the hell out of Barack and his staff?

On Saturday, March 15th, suspected “comedian” Tracy Morgan, hitherto a marginal cast member of Saturday Night Live until he somehow landed a plumb roll on the NBC sitcom, 30 ROCK, appeared on SNL’s Weekend Update segment as a guest commentator.
His so-called “skit” was a pro-Obama rant. The astute Mr. Morgan, who if I have not mentioned is a black man*, brilliantly observes that, now get ready for this epiphany, America is a “racist” nation! (And, he does this while mentioning Barak’s alleged “minister,” Jeremiah Wright only in passing!)
No!
I wonder if he came up with that pearl of wisdom on his own?
America is a “racist” nation?
Well of course it is! Who would be mad enough to deny that?
On the other hand, tell me what nation ISN’T racist and that will be news.

(more…)

Thanks to the wonders of the World Wide Web, I am able to peruse newspapers from all over the world, and I do so several times a week. mostly the major papers from the U.K., The Times, Mirror, Telegraph, etc. but I also have a look at Agence France-Presse from Paris and what ever other headline catches my fancy be it from Toronto, Berlin, Prague, wherever.
The rest of the world seems very interested in our upcoming presidential election, and no doubt it is an interesting one, but there is a certain condescension on their part that bothers me. I have repeatedly read articles and op-ed pieces wondering aloud if America is “ready” for a Black president. Is America ready for a woman president? In the final analysis the general consensus is no, Americans aren’t “progressive” enough for either and in the end will go with the standard issue white male candidate.
Among several salient points that disturb me about this attitude is the conjecture that any of these candidates, particularly on the Democratic Party side, are actually qualified for this office. The fact that one is from a racial minority and that the other is a woman should not be construed, or misconstrued as some sort of entitlement. The bottom line is that neither has a particularly impressive track record. Race or gender really should be incidental in the equation. (more…)

Excuse me; you might want some cheese with this whine….

I slipped on some ice at the car wash yesterday, fell onto the bumper of the car, and seriously messed up my lower back. This is in an area where my doctor has been noticing the promising first signs of osteoarthritis. Damn, it hurts!

I went straight to the chiropractor who just kind of shook his head and said, “man is that going to smart…you’ll have one helluva bruise…”

The night was miserable. I am trying to get rid of a cold and, about 2 a.m. I started in with a dry, hacking cough which shook me to my soul.

Blanche The Cat lay down beside me and looked at me as though to say, “gee, if I could operate the family pistol I would put this poor devil out of his misery…”

It took me nearly 5 minutes to get out of bed this morning and more than an hour to complete showering, etc. which usually takes about 15 minutes. I had tears in my eyes most of the time and, as Paula was already gone for work, I was beginning to wonder if I shouldn’t just stay home except that I figured I probably couldn’t manage to undress myself again and couldn’t figure out how I could get into bed, other than to stand beside and fall in.

Finally I got my boots on, a mere 15 minute task, and while lacing up the second boot, the shoestring broke. I decided a hot, amazingly creative stream of cursing to be a better alternative than weeping uncontrollably.

I couldn’t get down the steps to fill the bird feeders and could barely get the shed door open to let the dog out. I considered hooking up a block and tackle in order to get myself into the car. Hopefully the neighbor assumed the copious whimpering was just me beating the dog…

In the end I took an anti-inflammatory my doctor had prescribed once for gout, and so far it has helped keep the pain to a dull roar.
Of course I tried to stop myself from falling and wrenched my shoulder as well…

As my old friend Bill Bean is fond of saying, “getting old is not for sissy’s…”

Meanwhile, the city is tearing up the sidewalk in front of the studio; a jackhammer is running as I write, not more than a few feet from where I am sitting.

Wait! Now they have a backhoe sort of device which they are raising up to the top limits then letting the shovel fall to break up the concrete.

Now, where did I stash that Scotch???

(I suppose that, in a way, this blog only applies to folks who have seen the sitcom, “EVERYBODY LOVES RAYMOND”)

While viewing a bit of post democratic party debate commentary on February 26th I watched the extremely insufferable, obnoxious, loud-mouth Chris Matthews spouting his usual wildly bizarre if not unhinged effluvia, it struck me that he is the Frank Barone of the “news” industry. Loud, vulgar, and basically much ado about nothing. Frank is, at least, often funny whereas Chris is just, well, hmmmmm. Of course the biggest difference being that Frank is a broadly drawn boor: his clownishness is a simple comedy device…Matthews however is drawn as a “newsman.”

His partner in posturing pomposity is the often ludicrous Keith Olbermann. Someone on the left, obviously incensed by the success of the right’s resident big-mouth, Bill O’Reilly, said, “Lets find someone who is every bit as obnoxious as Bill but with our agenda in mind. And, whereas Bill often backs up his misguided forays with what at least pass for facts, let’s let Olbermann get away with saying virtually anything and never reprimand him, correct him or act like he’s anything other than smart.”

Thus spake Keith boy…recently quoted in a Playboy® interview as saying, in essence, that Fox News™ in general and Bill O’Reilly in particular were “more dangerous than the K. K. K.”

Uh, right. What a loony-bin.

Of course this program was a discussion show so one has to expect it to be made up of personal opinion, but the problem now extends to both network and cable nightly “news” broadcasts.

I have asked myself repeatedly just when was it that “news” suddenly became synonymous with “opinion?”

I don’t care what these knot-heads THINK, I am after NEWS…I never once tuned in to “The CBS Evening Opinions of Dan Rather”…
Well, actually I guess that I did. It’s just that for a while there I thought I was hearing the news.

Lesson learned, my bad.

Now, let’s talk about the printed media, how about THE NEW YORK TIMES…

Nah!

As tired as I was I expected I could have slept through a hurricane, and perhaps I could have, but I could not sleep through the cacophonous snoring of one Mr. Charles William Bean the 1st. Initially he would whinny, then he would bark, then he would yelp, yelp, yelp, then belch and snicker for a while. It sounded like a hoarse horse singing a duet with an upright Hoover while riding a Harley-Davidson and banging a tom-tom.
I would hiss, “Bill! Shut up!” and he’d gargle then say, with considerable irritation, “Huh? I was almost asleep!”
It went on for hours!
I can be called a lot of things, but fortunately for all of us I am not an assassin, although no jury in Britain, or anywhere else in the world for that matter, would have convicted me of throttling the life out of him had I been able to tape record his sonorous symphony of snigger-snorts (and yes, that is the second, so far, pretty damned fine alliteration on my part, thank you very much!).
(I remembered with horror and revulsion my experience with my old friend Snortin’-Roy Mitchell on our trip to New York City back in 2001 which is chronicled in yet another of these astounding, fact-filled journals of mine…he probably never knew how near a brush with death that he had…)
I turned on the light over my bed and Bill stopped snoring. For about 10 minutes. I turned on the light over his bed and he stopped for about 20 minutes. This was somewhere around 4 a.m. and I slept in brief snippets until he reached official hurricane force around 6 and I decided to hell with it, got up, got dressed, and went down to the lounge to watch an exciting BBC production concerning the sex life of the Peruvian wood boring beetle, or some other such nonsense, until the dining room opened for breakfast at 7. (more…)