Today is National Dog Appreciation Day.

It is a little known American holiday-type-observance.  I don’t even think most people are aware of it, and Hallmark doesn’t print any Greet Cards as such.

The day has a bit of a colorful past.  It sort of began in 1856, by Frederick Theobald McKintry.

McKintry was a well-educated man, having graduated from Harvard with a degree in law.  He decided however, that the “stuffy” east coast was not for him.  McKintry packed up his family…. a wife and two daughters….. and decided to move west.

Months earlier…. he had received word from a childhood friend that “land was for the taking” in South Dakota.  Sooooooo……  they packed up the bus and they moved to Beverly…. Hills that is….

More like the Dakota hills that is.  And more like a wagon.

At any rate, on their way west, they happened across a little creature while crossing the Plains.  As McKintry wrote in his diary…..

“May 8, 1856.  Bessy saw a skunk in the brush as we were setting up camp at dusk this evening.  She said there would be no cooking on her part with a skunk so near in our midst.  I was implored  to take on the task of investigating the intruder.

“When I approached the tall brush, I spotted the small black and white creature.  It was none too quick to move away from me, and I proceeded with caution.

“With a closer look, I saw that it was a small mongrel, quivering and half starved.  I picked him up and brought him near the fire.  We have been feeding him scraps all night and he has curled himself by the fire as I write.

“I jokingly said he had seen a fairer day.  The girls thought I called him Ferraday, and have been referring to the little mutt that way ever since.  I hope they do not grow attached.  This thing will probably be dead by morning.”

As it turns out, the girls Elizabeth and Catherine, did become attached.   Little wiry “Ferraday” followed the family and became the family pet.

McKintry referred to his “little companion” in his writings….. throughout his entire life.  He even spoke of the time that Ferraday quite possibly save young Catherine’s life.  She was off playing in the field, away from their homestead, when a mountain lion came down out of those Dakota Hills.  Ferraday “barked so viciously at a mountain lion, that he “scared the beast right back into the mountains.”

A few years later, McKintry founded the small town of Hartford, South Dakota… and became Mayor.  He deemed November 14th “Dog Day”…. to celebrate little Ferraday… and also to break the monotony of the South Dakota Winter.

And that is how National Dog Day got its start.

Well…..

uhhhmmmm…..

….. not really.  I just made all of that up.

But I think we should still celebrate all the little… and big… dogs in our lives.  Not only on November 14th… but every day.

We “rescued” all three of our dogs.  But the truth of the matter is…. they have helped us far more than we have helped them.  A Fairer Day…. indeed.

“Friendship is the hardest thing in the world to explain. It’s not something you learn in school. But if you haven’t learned the meaning of friendship, you really haven’t learned anything.”  ― Muhammad Ali

Some things about technology aren’t so good for us… here in modern society.

But that is for another conversation.

Tonight, I would like to consider a thing or two which are fabulous.  Technology has brought us instantaneous knowledge, if we care to seek it.  Yes.  Internet University.  IU.  I love it here.

The answer to virtually any question…. lies right beneath these keys at my fingertips.

How many ounces in a long ton?  Uhhhhnnnn….. 35,840 ounces.  Of course, there are 32,000 in a short ton.

When was the CIA founded?  Quietly & discretely …. it was September 18, 1947.

Who invented the first toilet?  Not Thomas Crapper, as most think.  Nope.  You see….  Sir John Harington beat Crapper to the punch nearly 300 years earlier with his revolutionary water closet design in 1596.

This is priceless information, I’ll tell you!

Here’s the thing though.  Sometimes, it knocks your socks off.  Several of my childhood familiarities have recently come to light.

I did not play with Barbies.  No.  But I had friends who did.  Little did I know, Barbie’s real name is  Barbara Millicent Roberts.  Get this.  Ken’s last name is Carson.  Barbie Millicent?  Yikes.

Now, I never really got to eat cereal as a kid.  The only times I really had it was at friends’ houses.  When I did get it… my favorite was Cap’n’Crunch.  And how about the Captain’s real name?  Horatio Magellan Crunch.  Yep.

Gilligan’s Island was my go-to show.  One of them, at least.  I never heard The Skipper’s name before tonight.  Jonas Grumby.  I guess that would have been Captain Grumby in the proper form.   Not such a great name for a cereal.

Since we are on names.  My later childhood days found favor with the cartoon…. Scooby-Doo.  Old  Shaggy, the scruffy pal of Scoob….. had a fine and fancy name.   Norville Rogers.  He was also one of the early supporters for the legalization of marijuana, I betcha’.  Scooby Snacks, after all.

So what’s my point?    Only that I like this.  I like to seek and find.  To dig and discover.   To know what I did not know before.

I think it is a good thing…. to see what I can see…..

Right after I get my eyes checked.    Because…..  the eye chart with the big “E” on top is called a Snellen Chart.

I want to be a good pupil, after all.

Some ding-dong out-of-towner guy was out driving one day….. out near our house in Ohio.  You know, on little curvy country roads.  Well, this fellow  accidentally drove his car into a deep ditch on the side of our road.

Luckily, for him…. our next door neighbor was home.  He is an old-timer-farmer-guy.  I won’t name him… to protect the innocent.  But I will name his horse.

Our Farmer-Neighbor has a big old horse named Benny.

So… the driver asked for help.

The farmer said Benny could pull his car out.

So he backed that big old horse up…. and hitched Benny to the man’s car bumper. Then he yelled, “Pull, Nellie, pull.”

Benny didn’t move.

Then he yelled, “Come on, pull Ranger.  Dang it Ranger… PULL!”

Still, Benny didn’t move.

Then he yelled really loud, “Now pull, Fred, pull hard.” And sure enough….Benny just stood there…. swishing his tail.

Then the farmer nonchalantly said, “Okay, Benny, pull.”

Benny gave a little head nod…. and pulled that car right out of the dang ditch.

The out-of-town guy was very appreciative…. but of course…. he was also curious. He asked the farmer why he called his horse by the wrong name three times.

Our Farmer-Neighbor said, “Oh, Benny is blind, and if he thought he was the only one pulling he wouldn’t even try.”

“Live your beliefs and you can turn the world around.” – Henry David Thoreau

There are certain things in life that are simply…. common knowledge.  You know.  Common Knowledge.  That which is known by most people.

So my example tonight may resound with you, or it may not.  Anyone who has kids, or who has been around children, will know this one for sure.  There are two sides to every coin.  Two sides to the story.  Two to tango.  All of those dual analogies.   Consider this scenario, one which many of us know, all too well.

You here a commotion.  Arguing.  Turmoil.  It sounds like the end of the world… taking place right in the middle of your own little kitchen.  You investigate.

Upon entering the dining nook, you see the cause.  Two kids, red in the face…. each pulling on the other one’s hair…. protesting, yelling, screaming.  And between them on the table is the glass of spilled milk.  Both are crying.

“What happened here?” you ask.  “Why are you crying over this spilled milk?”

In unison, fingers drawn and pointed toward one another….”She/He DID IT!!!!”  You continue to investigate.  The more questions you ask, the more you discover…. two entirely unique and separate events transpired at this table.   Neither child did it, yet both claim the other is guilty as sin.

The stories are as divergent as night and day.  As Lawrence Welk and Janice Joplin.  As Ford Pinto and Rolls Royce.

And what do you do?  Oh wise… and kind… and loving parent…

You Compromise.

It is a word that every parent knows.  It is an absolute necessity. In any household.  Where there is more than one person… living under the same roof…  you have to establish some sort of middle ground.

And this my friends… is the United States of America.  Plain and simple.

I see it this way at least.  Here we are in the U.S.A.  All sorts of different kids living under one roof.  We are all part of one common place, where we share the good, the bad, and the ugly.

But to make it work, it has to be a group effort.  No one child is “better” than the other.  All are equal.  So.  What do we need to make this house a home?

Fundamentally, the ABCs….. Accord, Balance, and Compromise.

Lest we continue to cry over that milk.

“A lean agreement is better than a fat judgment” – Old Proverb

“Make fair agreements and stick to them” – Confucius

There is a site I recently found on the internet.  It has named itself “Word Dynamo.”

I had a little fun on this discovery.  You answer some vocabulary questions, and it calculates the number of words you know.  I had to guess on a couple of the questions.  I don’t know what the average number of words in a vocabulary is….. for the typical American.  I bet I use more dot, dot, dots than anyone else.

But when the Word Dynamo figured me out, it calculated that I knew 47,563 words.   The second time around, I measured in at 50,018 words.   And there you have it.
http://dynamo.dictionary.com/

I am not sure if this is accurate or not, but I always feel like I stick to about the same 1,000 words or so.

I seem to use them over and over and over again.  Especially here, in Project 16,010.

So tonight.  A few new words.  Selected at random.

Bailiwick: An area of interest, activity or authority.
Animadversion: A harsh critical remark.
Ribaldry: Behavior inclining towards indelicacy.
Euphony: Bearable or agreeable sound.
Foppotee: A simpleton.
Sycophant: A person who tries to gain an advantage by pleasing someone.
Gnathonize: To flatter someone.

Tonight, I feel just like a foppotee.  I heard an animadversion, and it came from a seeming sychophant, who usually attempts to gnathonize.  Low and behold, it seemed to be an act of ribaldry.  Trust me.  I am a bailiwick on this.

There.  Finally at long last.
I said it.

“If you can speak what you will never hear, if you can write what you will never read, you have done rare things” – Henry David Thoreau

It is no secret that I love photographs.  I do.  Some people have no use for them.  But I find them fascinating in every way.

Certainly, in these times, we are inundated with images.  The “Digital Age” is responsible for this.  Wholly, I think.

Long ago, the photographic image was a process.  It wasn’t something you snapped with your iPhone and cast into cyberspace to immediately find its way to the swarming hoards on Facebook.  No.

Mind you.  There is nothing wrong with this.  It is just must different from the beginnings.

Photography, in its early years,  was a premeditated, and deliberate process.  The shear logistics of getting your camera equipment to the “place” you wanted to shoot, was only the first step in all of this.

And before that…you had to make that conscious decision to capture something on film.

From that time on, the exposure and film settings had to be near perfect for an image to finally appear on negative, then to film.  All of this by the way of the dark room.  Hours of processing were involved.

I think that is why I especially love old photographs.  They evolved from concept to reality.

But the photograph in itself.  What is it really?  Fido, with a cheer leading costume on?  The birthday party of your three-year-old daughter?  Fall leaves in the Smokies?  A rainbow on the edge of the sea?

Is it merely documentation of an event?  Or is it the profound thought, that a fleeting moment in time, is forever, caught in stillness, in the 2nd dimension?

To me it is not as much about the “thing” as it is about the “time”…. the camera had captured something that, in all of infinity, has never happened before, and will never happen again.

Choose wisely, we should.  Not only where we aim our lenses, but also where we aim our purpose.

For time is passing.

“Photography is (a means by which we)…learn to see the ordinary” – David Bailey

“Photography takes an instant out of time, altering life by holding it still.” – Dorothea Lange

“To me, photography is an art of observation. It’s about finding something interesting in an ordinary place… I’ve found it has little to do with the things you see and everything to do with the way you see them.” – Elliott Erwitt

Tonight I was flipping through the channels before settling on a dance between CNN and something “sports”…. my usual MO.  I happened upon one of those talent shows.

Not like the talent shows of yore.  No.  Back in the day, people with talent, like Carol Burnett, and Lily Tomlin, and The Jackson Five… those sorts of people…. got up on stage and sang… and made you laugh.  Those were talent shows.

Now, a talent show is more like some glam and glitter open mic night for money.

At any rate, I stopped briefly on one of these… “The XOXO Factor” or “The Big Voice” or “Simon Says”… I don’t know for sure. A young, pretty girl smiled bravely, and waved to the crowd.  She must have gotten voted off by America, or the judges, or the sponsor.  So, as she gave her brightest grin, the MC asked her…”Any last words?”  (What the heck?  Was she dying too?)

To which she so profoundly responded…..  “Just remember.  You don’t have to win to be a winner.”

What?  What is this?  You don’t have to win to be a winner?  I was shocked by this news…. this…. this… this ultimate revelation.  I ran for my tattered Webster’s Dictionary.

Win.

verb ( wins, winning ; past and past participle won |wən, wän| ) 1 be successful or victorious in (a contest or conflict)
2 acquire or secure as a result of a contest, conflict, bet, or other endeavor

Hmmmm.  What did this girl know that Webster and I hadn’t looked in on?

I mean.  I know that winning all the time isn’t possible.  And, it isn’t always important.  But you don’t have to win to be a winner.  I better look up winner.

Winner.

noun
• a person or thing that wins something
• a goal or shot that wins a winner or point.
• Bridge a card that can be relied on to win a trick.
• informal a thing that is a success or is likely to be successful

Nope.  It seems that a winner is a winner.

So I thought further.

Maybe there are times when we don’t win the “apparent” competition.  We don’t score enough runs.  We don’t get enough questions correct.  Or we don’t get enough votes.  Whatever the case may be.   But maybe, as a result of our “loss”… we “win” somewhere else.

Take the world famous example of The Great Parcheesi Incident of 1938.  Now that is a classic paradigm of this paradox.  Yes.  Floyd McClarington clearly lost the match.  And through that  amazing chain of events which transpired over the next eight days… he became a Billionaire.  Daddy Warbucks.

Very few people know that Daddy Warbuck’s real name is Floyd McClarington.  But it is.  And who knew  Eugene Trewell’s General Store Attic would play such a key role in the whole story…. I mean… that Holstein being up there an all.

But there it is.

Daddy Warbuck’s won.  And he wasn’t the winner.  Annie won too…. years later… when Floyd decided to adopt.  And the cow… she made it back to the Holstein Ranch for the Gifted.

Full Circle.

Just remember… there’s a winner in you…. that really isn’t a winner… but manages to win any old how.

“If no mistake have you made, yet losing you are … a different game you should play.” – Yoda, Jedi Master

I heard a really great story today about a blind mole.

Well… actually… it isn’t about a blind mole.  There is a blind mole in the story….. only one line really.  Have you ever had a good look at a mole?  They are very interesting little characters.  Very awesome looking.

Do you know what their butts smell like?  I have been told they  smell similar to pancakes. Like molasses.

But I am off track again dang it.

This particular story is one I heard from and old Sioux Indian.  The blind mole story.

Here is sort of how it goes.

~~~~|~|~|~|~|~|~|~|~~~~

The Great Creator gathered all of Creation and said, “I want to hide something from the humans until they are ready for it. It is the realization that they create their own reality.”

(Let’s call the old Great Creator… “Howard” to make this story go faster.  Okay.  Back to the story.)

“Where do you think I should hide it,” old Howard said.

The eagle said, “Give it to me, I will take it to the moon.” Howard replied, “No. One day they will go there and find it.”

The salmon said, “I will bury it on the bottom of the ocean.” “No. They will go there too.” The buffalo said, “I will bury it on the Great Plains.” Howard again responded, “They will cut into the skin of the Earth and find it even there.”

And then…. then, then, then….. Grandmother Mole, who lives in the breast of Mother Earth, and who has no physical eyes but sees with spiritual eyes, said quietly…..

“Put it inside of them.”

And Howard, the Great Creator said, “It is done.”

~~~~|~|~|~|~|~|~|~|~~~~

Oh.   What a great story.  Thanks Sioux People.

And what about that suggestion….  the realization that we create our own realities is hidden inside of us?

Hmmmmmmm.  It always goes back to the old story.  We either see the glass half empty, or we see it half full.  There are the 1/2 full-mavens that see the water as goodness, blessings, abundance.  Other Daryl-down-in-the-mouths…. see the part without water as “what is missing”… “the things we don’t have.”

But you know?  I think the glass is all the way full.  The part that doesn’t have water in it is filled with air.  Air is every bit as important as water.  We just don’t have a visualization of it.   The glass is filled all the way to the very top, then.  Yes, the contents reach the rim.  Two very different things… but both… in their own right… very important and good.    At least that is what I think.

There are lots of things in life we don’t see.  Our realizations, and our realities are our own.  They are shaped by who we are….   and each experience further defines who we become.

Sure enough.  That stinky blind mole really has it going on, I’ll tell you.

“Reality is merely an illusion, although a very persistent one” – Albert “The Mole” Einstein

Bob had no idea that Kenny would hold such a grudge.

No idea.

Earlier in the day, when they had argued fiercely over who was funnier…. Milton Burle or Jack Benny…. both men said some pretty harsh things to one other.  The dispute went unresolved.

So, now, as Bob kept his eyes on the horizon, guiding the boat through the choppy water…. he had no idea that Kenny was throwing the day’s catch off the back of the boat.

The Pelicans didn’t give a feathered butt about why it all was happening.  They were just glad to eat the shrimp.

Sometimes….  there are deep waters running below every story we hear in our lives… ….

Maybe we’re driving the boat.  Perhaps, we are the lucky bird at the stern.  Or… we might be the shrimp.

“Timing has a lot to do with the outcome of a rain dance” – Cowboy Proverb

One of the incredibly beautiful things about being human is our ability to learn.  Yes.  To broaden our horizons.  This helps us go with the flow of life, I think.  You know.  Roll with it.

It can come in many ways, shapes and forms.

Take tonight for example.  We took a friend to dinner at Fleet Landing, which looks out over the Cooper River and out on to the Atlantic Ocean.  While that in itself, is cool enough, the evening continued to be filled with little-horizon-expanders.

Nothing earth shattering.  But they were the kind of little horizon “broadeners” that are like those nifty elastic-button-gadgets you put on pants’ waists to make them larger… so you don’t have to go up a size.  Like those.

A new thing I tried tonight was some sort of snub-nosed-ugly-face-bottom-dweller-fish.  Chargrilled.  “Tastes like Grouper,” is what the waitress said.  Well it was much different than Grouper.  It was crazy good in a distinct way.  It came with homemade biscuits instead of rolls.  I like  a good roll.  But dang, the biscuits were better.

So I rolled with it.  I broadened my horizons.  And I found too…. that this is where those little pants-expander-gadgets really come in handy ….with the more biscuits you eat.

But there I go again, getting off track.  I almost forgot why I started all of this.

I was going to write about the Whiffenpoof, also known as the Gillygaloo.  I’m not making this up.

You see, the Whiffenpoof is one of the Fearsome Critters from Wisconsin and Minnesota.   These creatures lived in America in the 19th and early 20th centuries. Or so I am told.  I wasn’t about back then… at least not that I can remember.

Now… this here beasty-thing beast was said to be a bird that built its nests on the slopes of the Pyramid Forty.  Again, this is serious… I am NOT making this up.  Pyramid Forty was a building constructed by the legendary lumberjack, Paul Bunyan.  Their eggs were cube shaped.

The Wiffenpoof, or as Paul liked to call them… the Gillygaloo… had cubed shaped eggs so they wouldn’t roll out of the nests, and conversely… roll down the slopes of Pyramid Forty.  Smart Fearsome Critters.

Lumberjacks treasured these eggs.  They hard boiled them and used them as dice.  The legend goes on and on.  But now we know.

Broader horizons.  Ugly fish.  Square eggs.  We are smarter. Lucky us.

We live.  And we learn.  And this is good.

Yep.

Roll with it baby.  Roll with it.

“I want to explore the world. I want to watch TV in a different time zone.” – Dr. Castellaneta