a letter from Africa

Themba Sibanda sent me this message from South Africa:

Hello Mr Fred Owens I need your help I am Thembe Sibanda, Precious Sibanda she's my aunt, I am staying in South Africa its hard cs I am a foreigner and both my parents past away I am 21years and I want a good life and make my family better its hard Mr Owen please help me to come to America please help me I will help you in the name of jesus & I beg you Mr Owen.

Thembe is my relative by marriage, so it is appropriate that he comes to me for help & advice. I was married to his Aunt Precious. Thembe is the son of her brother Lawrence who has passed away. Thembe grew up in Bulawayo in Zimbabwe. Hardship and political turmoil has driven many young Zimbabweans like Thembe into exile. They go south, across the Limpopo River, they swim across the river and hide in the bushes from armed patrols, and they make their way down to Johannesburg where they can find work.
But the immigrants are not welcome. They are nothing but cheap labor, to be exploited, to be robbed, to suffer in the worst housing. Even so they can make money, and if they hold fast, then can improve. So I wrote back:

Thembe, you must pray for strength and carry on as best you can. Never give up! You are young and strong, you will survive, and someday your dreams will come true. Make the best of what you have --- and listen to me -- you must stay away from bad people. Choose your friends carefully. Only chose friends who are honest and helpful..... do not choose friends who steal and lie and fight -- this is my advice for you and I will pray for you every day.

Johannesburg has a high rate of violent crime and immigrants from Zimbabwe are so vulnerable. Thembe's father Lawrence worked as a security guard at a jewelry store and he was killed in an armed robbery -- this is much too common in Jo-burg as it is called. For that reason, my strongest advice to Thembe was to choose his companions carefully because in that way he will increase his personal safety. Running with the fast crowd in Jo-burg can quickly lead to death and prison.
I could have also said "read books and pursue any opportunity for education" -- but to this young man, I wanted to say only one thing and that is to choose your friends wisely -- because you have a choice in that regard. Other circumstances -- the poverty and violence of the immigrant community -- are beyond your control.
Even so, to be young and strong and brave and have a little hope for the future -- isn't that most wonderful?

Here is the photo he sent me.
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Thumb's Up, Thembe

Thembe Sibanda and his family come from Bulawayo in the southern region of Zimbabwe. Bulawayo was not prosperous in 1997 when I lived there, but it was decent -- there were no hovels or shacks, people lived in small brick houses with cold water taps and a flush toilet. The electricity worked. The water was potable. And all the children went to school and learned how to read and write.
But disaster struck in the form of two evils -- the AIDS epidemic struck down thousands of vital young people. I can recall the lineup of fresh graves at the Luveve Cemetery, and the reluctance of Zimbabweans to name it -- they would say of some deceased family member, "otherwise he had cancer" -- but he was only 32-years-old!
And the great political evil of Robert Mugabe who drove out all the white farmers and seized their lands for gifts to his corrupt henchman and they sold off the cattle, and ripped the fences and tore down the greenhouses and barns and ruined some of the most abundant farmland in southern Africa -- leading to near famine conditions in a country once well-fed.
It was these two disasters that drove hundreds of thousands of Zimbabweans across the border to South Africa, which is where Thembe struggles with his hopes today.

Barn Paintings

My barn paintings feature the moon, the leaves, and the fishes in an underwater garden.


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--
Fred Owens
cell: 360-739-0214

My gardening blog is Fred Owens
My writing blog is Frog Hospital

send mail to:

Fred Owens
35 West Main St Suite B #391
Ventura CA 93001

Learning Arabic

But first the garden news. I was gardening yesterday at my sister's house in Venice Beach in Los Angeles. It was hot for October, a bit sweatacious for working in the sun. I cleaned up the front yard -- pulled out some grass that keeps popping up under the shrubbery. The soil was very dry because this part of the yard does not get watered and there has been no rain for six months -- but still the grass came up easily because the soil seems to be free of clay...... Gardens with clay soil are bound up like concrete this time of year -- you need a jack hammer.

I figured out why more people are calling me for gardening work these days -- because after 3.5 years working in the Southern California landscape I am finally getting tuned into the local ecosystem and plantscape. I kinda got the feel of it.

It's like if a carpenter moves from one state to another state, his work methods don't change very much. But you take a gardener (me) from the Pacific Northwest and move him to SoCal -- boy, it is way different down here. So many new plants to learn -- that is the fun part, but the inexperience makes you a doubtful hire in people's gardens.... Anyway, I am over the hump and kinda know what's going on, so I have more work.

Learning Arabic. If I was a cool guy I would be learning Chinese. Being able to speak even a few words in Chinese is cool. Learning Spanish is cool too -- that makes you a part of the multi-cultural vision. If you learn Chinese or Spanish you're fulfilling the principles of diversity.
Or you could learn Gaelic, the language of Ireland and Scotland -- going back to the Olde Country in Europe. That's cool too, in a retro way.

If you're really cool you could learn an indigenous language, like Quechua, which is spoken in Bolivia, or Coastal Salish which is spoken in Puget Sound.
But who needs to be cool? Not me, I'm learning Arabic and people think that's weird. They get kind of an uncomfortable look on their face when I tell them, like saying "Can we talk about something else?" Or else they say, "Isn't that pretty hard?"

People don't like Arabs for one thing -- I mean in general. And the Arabs -- what they think about us I can't print, so it's not cool.

Returning to my mention of the Chinese people and our Spanish-speaking neighbors -- they don't hate us at all. We're not even at war with them. Well, they might quietly despise us and they might plot to overwhelm us economically, but they don't hate us. But we can't say that about the Middle East -- the Middle Eastern people hate us, some of them do.

So an unspoken fear is don't learn the Arabic language, because you might unknowingly besmirch the reputation of the Prophet, and then Al Qeada operatives will capture you and have you beheaded and the videotape of your execution will be sent to your nearest relatives.

Or worse, if you study the language of this hostile culture, the NSA -- which might be looking over my shoulder right now as I type this message, and if you're reading this message then they might begin watching you too because they have flagged certain words such as "Arabic" -- the NSA might want to talk with you, at a safe house, after a long car ride........ No, better to learn Chinese or Spanish.

But what do I care? I'm old and I'll do what I choose to do. So I'm learning Arabic. I have engaged a tutor. She's very smart and I've learned a lot from her. I have become friends with Arabic-speaking people who have immigrated to the United States. I have made Facebook contacts with people in Egypt and Saudi Arabia -- they're very nice people, and I'm very glad to be friends with them. And they don't hate me, although it's possible that they might find me somewhat annoying at times.

But this does nothing to solve the intense political problems that set their culture against ours. I can't fix that.

There's another reason to avoid learning Arabic. Classic Arabic is the language of the Koran, the foundational text of Islam. Islam is a patriarchal monotheistic religions -- like Christianity and Judaism -- and that's not cool. To learn Arabic is to learn the Koran either directly or indirectly. This is just the way it is and likewise with the study of any Western language we will encounter the Christian heritage, like it or not.

We have our own fundamentalists whom we despise for their dogmatic fanaticism, and the Moslems have their fundamentalists (and the Jews too have their fanatics, except they are not dogmatic), and the only interesting question is whether their fundamentalists are worse than our fundamentalists.

To which I answer undoubtedly -- their fundamentalists are worse than ours. But I don't want to start a debate on that topic. I only want to say that learning Arabic has been a wonderful, stimulating, emotionally-satisfying experience. The language, written and spoken, is rich beyond measure in poetry, music, rhythm, depth, and beauty.

The political problems fester in a climate of sustained mutual hostility. "What you did to us! We will never forget!" The image of mobs of unshaven men shouting with anger in the streets of Cairo and Baghdad. I can't do anything about that.

Except to say that the war will end. Wars always end. And this war will end someday and I hope that day is soon.

My Arabic Tutor Responds

I study with Miranda Zora. She is a Middle Easterner, a native speaker of Aramaic and Arabic. She is also an undergraduate student at the University of California at Santa Barbara. In her response, Miranda points out the positive aspects of studying Arabic.


I really like your essay. It's true, a language is related to the history and politics of the countries/cultures that speak it.
I like specifically the part about language and religion, because that's mainly why people don't like Arabic; it's the language of the "terrorists". Moreover, English is based on Christian traditions. Expressions such as "Thank God," "Bless you" and "Oh my God" express that idea.
However, the main benefit and positive thing for me is that the only way you can understand the culture behind something so controversial and so different is by learning its language. People are afraid of Islam because it's so different; or at least they think it is. However, once they learn the language they will realize that it's in fact not that different and they will be able to relate better to the people who speak the language, AKA Middle-Easterners.
For me, as a linguist and polyglot, I know that language is the reason why I can relate to so many different people and cultures in the world. I can relate to people who speak all the languages that I speak; Aramaic, Arabic, English, French, and Spanish; and even to people who speak languages similar to these. When I meet people who speak Hebrew for example, we end up comparing our languages because they're very similar -- Hebrew came from Aramaic, and that's the basis of our conversation.
Therefore, when I do go on further with my passion and learn more languages, I definitely don't want to learn something that is so similar to what I already know. I'm not going to learn another romance language, I already speak three. I'm not going to learn another Semitic/Middle-Eastern language, but I'm going to learn something that is so different and alien to me; also taking into consideration what will help me in my career later. I want to learn Greek for example, because I love the culture and it's nothing like what I already speak. My other choices are Chinese and Russian, because they're different and would help me in my career later on.
So I actually think it's a smart choice for you to learn Arabic at this time, because it is one of the main languages in the world right now and it's especially important because of the political situation between the US and the Middle East. Plus it opens your horizons and helps you relate to and communicate with so many more people in the world than what you can now without speaking Arabic. 150 million people speak Arabic, and you can relate to them now because you're learning Arabic.
My point is that learning what is different for you is what will make you a global citizen that can survive in this world in any situation and in any country/culture, because I think that that's what's required to survive in this extremely diverse world that we live in today.

Subscriptions. Your subscription money keeps the editor from getting cranky. Your dollars keep him on an even keel. He needs to maintain a sense of detachment and keep his sense of humor. Help him out. Send your check today or hit the PayPal button...... Just follow the instructions below.

Subscriptions. Thank you --- Subscriptions can be paid at PayPal on the Frog Hospital blog for $25. Or you can mail a check to the address below.

--
Fred Owens
cell: 360-739-0214

My gardening blog is Fred Owens

My writing blog is Frog Hospital

send mail to:

Fred Owens
35 West Main St Suite B #391
Ventura CA 93001


--
Fred Owens
cell: 360-739-0214

My blog is Fred Owens

send mail to:

Fred Owens
35 West Main St Suite B #391
Ventura CA 93001

Fresh Local Music

People love fresh, local food. They say it tastes better than canned or frozen produce that was grown a thousand miles away and shipped by long-distance truck and then stored in a huge warehouse for who knows how long. Fresh, locally grown food is better -- everybody knows that.
But isn't it the same with music? Why do you listen to canned music? Why do you listen to the radio or iTunes, hearing music that was recorded last year in a studio a thousand miles away. Turn off that canned music for a while, and listen to the fresh music of your habitat, listen for the sounds in your life -- a dog barking, a door closing, footsteps, traffic, the rustle of paper as you turn the page on the book you're reading, the song of birds, the sound of wind, and that most blessed silence.
After a while you will begin to prefer "fresh, local music" and you might sing a song out loud now and then. You might carry a harmonica in your pocket. You might ask your co-workers to join you in a song, a work chanty perhaps, as the work gangs did in days of old. Turn off the canned music -- listen to the fresh sounds of your real life, the sounds of where you live and who you live with -- that's the true beautiful music that makes your soul sing.

Obamacare. Obamacare is a powerful medicine with deleterious side effects.

Let me try a metaphor.
Obamacare is a good and useful medicine, but it has a serious side effect -- the dosage drives a substantial minority of Americans bonkers.
To say that it is not supposed to have side effects is no argument in its favor. What an objective observer from outer space would surely notice is that when the medicine of Obamacare is applied, the result is that a large number of people break out in a rash.

Obamacare. "Obamacare" is the wrong name and unfortunately everybody uses it. It bodes ill to call this program so wrongly. "Obamacare" personalizes a law and an issue that effects all Americans. FDR established Social Security, but we did not put his name on it. It is a bit of a mouthful to say the Affordable Health Care Act, and I won't use that longer, correct term, but we are stuck with "Obamacare" for now and we urgently need a better name.

Bernie Sanders Respectfully Debates His Right Wing Foes. Senator Bernie Sanders of Vermont is a through and through socialist and yet he manages to debate and challenge right-wing foes without resorting to gutter language. He treats his opponents respectfully and for two reasons -- because it is the decent thing to do and also because in the sometime future he will be working with them on other legislative projects.
Look at the language he uses -- the underlined phrases
From a recent interview
And how worried are you that there actually would be a debt default?

"Well, you’ve got a lot of factors going. Am I worried? Yes, I am worried. I can’t tell you that it will happen or not. But you really have people who live in another, in an ideological world which is very far removed from where I think most Americans are. And they believe so strongly, they hate Obama so much, and they believe so strongly in their views that if it means driving this country or the world into a recession or a depression, that from their point of view is a small price to pay to continue their efforts."

I maybe making too fine point, but Sanders does not describe his opponents as insane, deranged, mentally ill, anarchist, bomb-throwing, reactionary Neanderthals. Instead he uses language that we can live with.
Invective is an important part of political strife, but it needs to be respectful, and it if it's not respectful then it must be funny or creative.
There's no point in calling someone a horse's ass unless you can say it with a certain flair.


Senator Everett Dirksen of Illinois. We could really use a man like Dirksen now. There was a time when senators looked like senators -- before the tanning lamps, before plastic surgery and hair weaves. Dirksen was a man who know how to hand out gov't. contracts. Rewarding his faithful supporters and often taking care of his foes as well, he got things done and made few enemies.

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We'll Meet Again. Johnny Cash sings it just right.

We'll meet again, don't know where, don't know when
But I'm sure we'll meet again some sunny day
Keep smiling through, just the way you used to do
Till the blue skies chase the dark clouds far away.

Subscriptions. Thank you --- Subscriptions can be paid at PayPal on the Frog Hospital blog for $25. Or you can mail a check to the address below,
--
Fred Owens
cell: 360-739-0214

My blog is Fred Owens

send mail to:

Fred Owens
35 West Main St Suite B #391
Ventura CA 93001

You Can't Close the Grand Canyon

I need to say this -- Yes, the national parks are "closed" but they are still there. It's sort of like the sun on a cloudy day -- it's still up in the sky, but you can't see it.

You can't actually close the Grand Canyon.

The shutdown, we might explain to overseas visitors, is a constitutional ritual. There has been no illegal usurpation of powers, it's being done by the book. The shutdown will take as long as it takes, and the varying parties will resolve their differences.

Or you might think of it as a party game -- to see who can hold their breath the longest.

A National Day of Non-Action. I call for a National Day of Non-Action. The gov't is not working, why should we? Join me in doing nothing, or as little as possible.

I have the novel notion that this so-called "shutdown" is really the tired wheezing of a worn-out overloaded piece of machinery called the federal govt. Maybe we should just give it a rest and don't use it for while. And give yourself a rest too. Take a walk in your neighborhood -- you will quickly find somebody who can use your help.

And let's face it -- for most of you, what you do is not essential -- if you put it off for a few days no harm would come.

No Cause for Panic. Let the major media journalists and the high-powered politicos make their grandstand plays, but do not heed their dramatic warnings. Our country is not facing utter ruin. We are actually doing quite well. To confirm that judgment, I suggest that you look out the window -- Do you see madness and mayhem?



--

Leaving California

FROG HOSPITAL -- Sept 29, 2013

Leaving California

By Fred Owens

Not me. I'm not leaving. I love it here. The weather is great and the people are friendly. I was at Dodger Stadium last night watching a game -- beautiful skies in the city. My girlfriend, a native, was telling me how polluted it used to be downtown, when she was a kid, but there is far less smog now.

Look, I'm not selling the place. If you hate California, good for you, stay away.

But what mystifies me is why all these people left. Many thousands of people of have moved out of California in recent years -- gone to Washington, Oregon, Arizona, and other Western States.

Why did they leave? They just gave up and quit -- where's the gumption? I can understand the common complaints about California -- the high cost of living, bad schools, terrible traffic, too much government, and millions of immigrants, not forgetting moral degradation and a state income tax.

All these complaints are valid. So what did millions of Californians do? They quit. They left. They gave up..... Well, good riddance. We don't need you. We're going to fix a few things around here and make it better than it ever was. You just wait and see.

Gov't Shutdown

I'm expecting my Social Security check on Tuesday, so if they shut the gov't. down on Wednesday, it won't be a problem for me. I wasn't planning to go to the national parks, and I hope nobody starts a war in the next few weeks.
Uncle Ted

I promised my cousin Trish a story about her grandfather who was my Uncle Ted. I have thought about this story a good deal but I have only gotten two paragraphs written. Here it is.


What I remember most about Uncle Ted -- and remember this is me as a ten-year-old -- is that he had a very big nose. It came way out from between his eyes and then circled downwards toward his mouth. Uncle Ted's nose was an event in itself...... Also he never talked very much and we didn't see him too often.
Aunt Bee was his wife. I liked her but I thought it was funny she was named after a bug. I didn't know her real name was Berenice -- nobody ever told me.

That's as far as I have gotten.

Tom Robbins at the White Trash Food Festival

I like the title of this story, stepping off on a famous man, author Tom Robbins, and his real life role as Supreme Judge at the annual White Trash Food Festival.

The story is about Tom Robbins and how you can know a man. By his relations you shall know him.

It goes like this. Every year Tom judges the festival, along with co-judge Danny Jensen, aka "Danimal."

There's a lot of Jensen's in LaConner. Danny is probably related to Sybil Jensen who is one of the chief funders and docents at the Quilt Museum, which was founded by Art & Rita Hupy. Art was a well-known photographer who sometimes worked at the old Puget Sound Mail back when Bonnie McDade was the publisher. Bonnie was helped at the newspaper by her sister Maddy Free ( now married to Dan O'Donnell). Later Maddy got a job at the LaConner Post Office, and that's where Tom Robbins goes to pick up his mail everyday and, as many people in LaConner know, Tom loves to keep up a good old-fashioned non-Internet, snail-mail correspondence.

That is just one link of relations in a small town, and that is how you know people. I have notes and can spin out these relations for many pages.

Starting with Ralph Meeks, for example, dead 20 years now, an old fisherman who signed the protest pamphlet that objected to the jetty between Goat Island and McGlinn Island that was built in 1936 to benefit the Dunlap Towing Company but which also ruined the local salmon runs.

Ralph is somehow related to Bud Moore, who know lives in Ralph's old house. Bud is the son of Milo Moore who founded the Moore-Clark fish food company along with his brother Vernon Moore, who is somehow related to Gordy Bell, a longtime town employee, who is probably related to Sharon Bell, a close friend of Barbara Cram, who is no relation to Herb or Sally or Sam Cram. But Sally Cram is the sister of Mary Lam and the daughter of Pat O'Leary who used to own the Puget Sound Mail before Bonnie McDade owned the newspaper, whose sister is Maddy Free, who delivered the mail to Tom Robbins.

So it keeps going around -- for many more pages, but you get the idea.

Trust Your Dreams
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I did this calligraphy from my Arabic Studies. It is two words from a poem by Kahlil Gibran. It reads "Trust your dreams for in them is hidden the gate to eternity."

Kahlil Gibran was from Lebanon, when it was a peaceful and beautiful country. Now it is ravaged by war and flooded with refugees from Syria, but you still trust your dreams. What else can you do?

--
Fred Owens
cell: 360-739-0214

My blog is Fred Owens

send mail to:

Fred Owens
35 West Main St Suite B #391
Ventura CA 93001

do the right thing

An important moment in the history of race relations in our country was the last scene of Spike Lee's 1989 movie Do the Right Thing.
The key moment is when the character that Spike Lee plays -- Mookie -- decides to hell with it and throws a garbage can through the window of Danny Aiello's pizza stand. Danny Aiello's pizza stand was one of the few functioning businesses in Mookie's neighborhood. And Danny hired Mookie to deliver the pizzas.
But Mookie couldn't stand it. He erupted in violence -- he threw the can, broke the window, burned down the building, a riot broke out, everybody got arrested, and Danny and his two sons left the neighborhood and there was no pizza for anyone and no more work for Mookie.
My reaction, reviewing the film last year, was that Danny Aiello liked black people, he just didn't like them very much. And Mookie was insane to start a riot over this.

Martin Luther King had a dream and Mookie set it on fire.
It's an incredibly good movie.

Family Planning

"Family planning" is quite a contradiction. Not to say plans are wrong, no, plans are very good. But children are much more important than any plan. How many and when you have them -- subject to a certain amount of planning and that's good -- but there is ample evidence of children showing up unbidden and children longed for but not appearing. And that's just the start. Once you have them, despite all the work you do, and more planning of course, you don't have much control over how your children turn out. A family is, in essence, not a plan.

Over and Under Population -- family planning on a much larger scale

Alan Archibald writes to me:

We humans have actually fulfilled a biblical command and are now in full compliance with Yahweh's command to "multiply and fill the earth."

I respond:

It is the only biblical command we have fulfilled -- the earth seems pretty full at this point, but there is limited value in purely theoretical discussions, as you point out, especially when it comes to children. Children are incredibly messy. They poop on theories and make scribbles out of your most careful plans.

When it comes to having children, how many is always a wrong question. Have as many as you want.

Think of a party, a room full of people, everyone having a good time -- who would bother to count how many people are in the room? Introduce disharmony and the room is instantly over-crowded

The goal is harmony. To fear or even consider over-population or under-population is more than a waste of time, it is actually a harm. Such thinking about numbers impairs the judgment of young people who are about to become (or not become) parents.

When parents make their best choices about having children we will have the best possible population --- the actual number is less important.
Passion

Seriously, we need to retire this word "passion" when used to describe our daily struggle to make a living. "What is your passion?" -- Ugh! Please, not at work.

At work, we have dedication and ambition. We strive. We are enthusiastic, energetic and determined. We pursue goals.

But we are not passionate -- I visualize someone panting heavily at a meeting of the board of trustees -- that doesn't work.

Social Science proves what we already know

Quote:

"The study relied on five experiments involving roughly 900 men and women on college campuses and websites."

I don't dispute the conclusion of this study. What amazes me is that people actually waste their time and money proving what the average idiot ( me, perhaps ) already knows.

As for the conclusion of this study, of course it's true -- I have yet to hear a man brag about the status or income of his female partner. I don't spend too much time with younger men however, so my sample is not age-balanced.

Social science is bogus. It impedes the natural flow of human progress. The behavior of men and women, in how they treat each other, is evolving --- we don't need social science to prove that.
Griping.

I save griping for the end of this essay. I am such a crank. I should just get over it.

Here's my gripe:

“I have a dream that one day on the red hills of Georgia the sons of former slaves and the sons of former slave-owners will be able to sit down together at a table of brotherhood.”

–Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.

I am a foe of inclusive grammar and the way it butchers the majesty and cadence of language like this. Should I point out the errors in Dr. King's sentence and suggest the correct terminology according to current standards?

Sons must be changed to children, of course, but that changes the rhythm of this phrase. English speech is full of strong one-syllable words, like "sons" and "red hills." Words like these are one of the glories of our language, but sons must be changed to children.

And brotherhood. I'm afraid there is no easy substitution. Personhood? Brotherhood and sisterhood? You might more broadly alter the text and say "at a table of harmony and good will." That doesn't sound too bad.

But I do miss brotherhood most of all. If only we had achieved it!

This whole essay is one long gripe.

I'm sorry about that. I will leave you with a poignant song -- about what might have been, about the dreams just beyond our reach.

Old Stewball was a race horse,
And I wish he were mine.
He never drank water,
He always drank wine.

Syria

I have been reading a lot of books, mainly history, about Syria and Egypt, plus taking Arabic lessons, plus I have a working knowledge of Hebrew -- but I have not actually been to the Middle East ....... Anyway, you add that up, and I feel like I know a little bit, but way short of someone who lives in that region and also short of various Middle Eastern experts -- academics, state department people, people with business interests over there -- those are all people who know more about this than I do......

Studying, learning, traveling, doing business over there -- all those things increase your knowledge but you can STILL be completely wrong. To me, the ancient countries have many layers, and the more you delve into it, the more layers you discover, and there's always more layers.

I feel it is worth the effort to learn about these countries, although I cannot point to any tangible benefit.

Pres. Obama will make a decision about what to do in Syria and we will be living with the consequences. Let's hope for the best.
Willie and Joe

When I was a kid, I wanted to be like Willie and Joe when I grew up. Willie and Joe were the chief characters in Bill Mauldin's book, Up Front, about American combat soldiers in Europe in World War II.

I used to look at the cartoons over and over again. I thought it was really cool that they got to dig holes and didn't have to take baths.

As an adult I have spent a great deal of my working life digging holes and moving earth around, so this became my life. I do bath regularly however.

As for fighting the war, which is what Willie and Joe did -- I didn't do that. I could have gone to Vietnam -- that's an issue men my age still debate.
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Dancing in Your Underwear
I saw Miley Cyrus dancing in her underwear on TV last night. Then this morning there was furious discussion about whether this was a good or bad thing -- a debate between the prudes and the libertines.

Rather than take a side in this, I look at her performance from the vantage of being a trend watcher and this is how to explain it.

What happens when people dance around in their underwear?

It's a trend, and trends are started by attractive young people who look good when they dance around in their underwear. But then trends start to grow and spread across the land, even to places like Nebraska. Then old people and funny-looking people and people-who-aren't-the-least-bit-cool-or-attractive begin dancing around in their underwear -- it doesn't look that good. Next time you're in a crowd someplace, look at all the people. Imagine all of them dancing around in their underwear. Is that a good movie?

Trends start in places like Los Angeles and they die in places like Nebraska..........

In LaConner in 1980 the Town Council met around the Ping-Pong table at the Volunteer Firemen's Rec Hall

I didn't look this up, I am reciting from memory --- Mary Lam was the mayor. Council members were June Overstreet, Judy Iversen, Neva Malden, Roberta Nelson, and Don Wright. Kathi Ernst was the Town Clerk, The town attorney was a woman named Goddard, I think. Pat Sherman was the town treasurer, but she did not sit at the table on a regular basis.
So what we had was an all female govt. but for Don Wright as the Lone Patriarch. What this proved was that it didn't get any worse or better under female leadership.

A few years later Mary Lam persuaded the town council to approve bonds to build a new meeting room across town where the sheriff's dept. is now.
That cost around $180,000. I was opposed to this venture because I thought the ping-pong table was big enough for the council and there was room for 20 or 30 chairs for the citizens, so why spend all that money.
Mayor Lam did not like being a guest of the Firemen however, so the ping-pong table era ended.

What I realized years afterward was that people like Mary Lam and Roberta Nelson, who grew up in LaConner, got kind of tired of the town's rundown condition and hoakee-finokee reputation. They wanted something new and bright and beautiful, something lively and fresh. So the Town Hall Annex, which Mary Lam built for Council meetings, was in fact a very nice building, historic in architecture, but modern in construction. Maybe it was worth the money.
Note: The council meets today in a room at Maple Hall no bigger than the old Fireman's Rec Hall. So maybe I was right all along -- we could have just stayed at the Ping-Pong table.

Back in Santa Barbara. Laurie and I visited LaConner for several days and had a wonderful time. She had not seen LaConner before but she liked it quite a bit. Now we are back in Santa Barbara -- it can get hot and dusty in Septemver in this country, often the hottest time of the year. But, you know, Santa Barbara, it's like they passed a law against having bad weather. It's nice almost all the time. Harsh climates build character, but I believe my moral fiber will survive the easy breezes around here.

--
Fred Owens
cell: 360-739-0214

My blog is Fred Owens

send mail to:

Fred Owens
35 West Main St Suite B #391
Ventura CA 93001

the Ghost of Syria

President Obama has been positioning naval vessels off the coast of Syria. Is this a good idea?
The use of chemical weapons seems to be an understandable trigger point.

Obama can look to the example of Clinton who bombed the be-jesus out of Belgrade with great civilian casualties, but without the risk of American troops on the ground -- and that worked. We can hardly remember the dictator's name -- Milosovic -- he has been blotted from memory, and peace, or an ugly calm, pervades the Balkans.

Or Obama can follow the example of Geo. Bush who invaded Iraq, but not to the benefit of the Iraqi people nor to the benefit of regional security.

"It could be worse" -- we sometimes say that in our country. But they don't say that in the Middle East, they make some bitter joke instead.

Still they survive these wars and the olive trees still grow. Read a history of the Crusades or a history of the Roman Conquest, and the names of Tripoli, Homs, and Damascus are mentioned as battle sites. Syria recovered then, it will recover again this time.

"Syria" as a geographic entity has often included Lebanon, Palestine, and what we know call Israel -- with more trouble per square mile than any place on earth. And still it is beautiful. It must be worth fighting for. Nobody wants to leave, or if they do leave they make desperate efforts to return.

Flat Tire foils Thieves

We're getting on the train in Santa Barbara on Monday and going up to Seattle to visit my daughter, then up to LaConner for a few days to see old friends and enjoy the country.

We might stop in at Rexville for the White Trash Food Festival next Saturday, or walk the beach on Guemes Island -- whatever seems like fun.

Flat Tire Foils Scrap Metal Thieves

I sent Jack Rice an email, but he didn't respond, he might have been out of town or he just didn't want to talk about this.

I often visited Jack at his office at the Texaloy Foundry, just to get away from all those women at the Wilson County News where I worked as a reporter. That was 2006 in Floresville, Texas, near San Antonio.

This excellent weekly newspaper was staffed by 21 women and 2 men -- which was okay, but sometimes I just wanted to get away, and I might go over to Texaloy and have a visit with Jack.

He had a comfortable couch in his office and a picture window view of the foundry he owned and managed.

We talked about deer hunting and other things.

The story is about how one of his employees was stealing scrap metal, driving it right out the door on a trailer and selling it. The thief and his outside accomplice overloaded the trailer -- got greedy! -- leading to a flat tire by the side of the road, which excited the curiosity of a local cop who might have noticed their nervous attitude, and then asking questions, found out the goods were purloined -- were, in fact, the property of Jack Rice, and he was a generous man and a fair employer but he did not give stuff away especially if you didn't ask.

They were arrested. I wrote the story. That was seven years ago. I hope the two arrested men have realized the error of their way. I hope they made amends for the theft and have gone back to making an honest living.

That's why I sent Jack Rice an email on Friday -- to find out about that. But it was seven years ago and it doesn't really matter too much by now.

Except for the morality tale --- how the thieves got greedy and overloaded their trailer and that's how they got caught.
............
--
Fred Owens
cell: 360-739-0214

My blog is Fred Owens

send mail to:

Fred Owens
35 West Main St Suite B #391
Ventura CA 93001

Art Suit in LaConner

Art Suit worked for years at the New England Fish Company underneath the Rainbow Bridge in LaConner.

Art retired and the fish company went bankrupt at about the same time.

He lived with his wife in a modest home on Maple Street. We moved in across the street in 1980, into the double-wide, which was still there last time I looked.

So Art was my neighbor -- him and his happy wife. My kids were pre-school age then and they could wander over to visit with Mr. Art in his garage workshop.

Elaine Dubuque was our other neighbor and Herb Cram, the Cookie Man, lived down the street.

Eugene, being 4 or 5 years old, used to run away from home and when we couldn't find him anywhere, we would walk down to Herb's house, and there was Eugene sitting in front of the TV eating cookies.

Getting back to Art, he had his retirement and his workshop. He owned every tool that I ever dreamed of owning. It was like he walked into the hardware store and said yes, I'll take it. Not that he bought it all at once, but he built up his shop one tool at a time.

He reached the point where most of us only dream, and he had the time and the good health to take on any project from welding, to carpentry, to garden-growing, to electric and plumbing repairs.

He had a few good years like that after he retired.

Art is not with us anymore but he's a was a kind man and a very good neighbor.
The Weather. We had the Greek Festival in Santa Barbara this week and I had the lamb dinner. It was wonderful.

Naturally I called John Kagouras to tell him about the fun we had. He's Greek. He said he was glad I had a good time.

John grew up in Colorado Springs. I didn't know they had such a large Greek community in that town, but John said he did not learn to speak English until he went to school.

John is a retired architect in LaConner. I asked him about the weather. He said it's been warm this summer.

I told him that I was coming to LaConner in a few weeks with my girl friend Laurie and I might see him at La Crema, the coffee shop.

Then I called Jim Smith and Janet Saunders, also in LaConner. Janet answered the phone, she agreed -- it has been pretty warm this summer, with lots of sunny days.

She put Jim on the phone. Jim is recovering from a serious illness, but he sounded a lot snappier than when I called him a month ago. He said he felt much better and he was getting around more. That was good news.

On Facebook I saw a lot of photos of Swinomish people in the tribal canoe journeys. It is a colorful and meaningful annual journey. Try not to get too wet!

Young People. Here in Santa Barbara I share a house with people who are less than half my age. But they're not ready for Frog Hospital so you won't hear about them here.
Egypt. I am studying Arabic and watching the news from Egypt and Syria -- The language is beautiful and the Arabic-speaking people I know seem very good and happy in their ways, and yet the whole place is a bloody mess. I can't explain it. I guess it's not my job to explain it, but I know it's good to pay attention and learning a few words in their language is a way to help.

In Cairo many thousands of angry young men are rampaging through the streets -- educated and unemployed. There are no jobs, there never will be jobs. They must learn to create opportunity. The government can only give them bread, exported from the US and paid for by Saudi Arabia and Qatar....... I would tell them kindly, someone raised you, some one taught you, now the rest is up to you. Your ancestors built the pyramids, what about you? ...... "create opportunity" -- you start by picking up sticks, you start by looking around at what you have, and what you can do and what somebody else needs...... The Arab Spring was started by an educated young man in Tunisia who was selling fruit because he couldn't get a job.......so that's what you do -- sell fruit -- what's wrong with selling fruit? I've done it, it's fun and you can make money..... But jobs, forget it, there will never be enough jobs.
The Nanofabrication Facility at the University of California at Santa Barbara. This week I'm taking a tour and writing a story about the clean room at UCSB where researchers attempt to discover a more efficient way to produce LED lights. I have been studying in preparation for the interview. Learning about Gallium Nitride, which is a wide-band gap semi-conducter, and how the researchers "dope" the GaN with Indium or Aluminum in an attempt get it to work more efficiently. I love science. To make the effort to understand the research, to have the opportunity to see people make discoveries about the nature of things -- this is such a good thing.

Research, finding a way to build a better light bulb, is not about learning. It's about learning how to learn. We know how to do that here and they don't know how to do that in Egypt. That's the problem.
Otherwise I spend my spare time at the beach reading and swimming.



--
Fred Owens
cell: 360-739-0214

My blog is Fred Owens

send mail to:

Fred Owens
35 West Main St Suite B #391
Ventura CA 93001

Mesa Harmony Garden

We are harvesting nectarines and plums at Mesa Harmony Garden. The Mesa neighborhood gets the cool ocean breeze and the morning fog. Not the best place for growing tomatoes because of the cool breeze, but it’s awfully nice for garden volunteers working among the fruit trees.

That's what we planted on this one-acre plot -- about 100 fruit trees -- plums, peaches, nectarines, apples, and pears mainly, plus a small banana plantation. What people are realizing is that you can grow bananas in Santa Barbara -- this one variety that tolerates our warm and dry but not tropical climate. It will grow little bananas with orange-flavored sweetness, really excellent and toothsome, and banana trees are no trouble -- except they need water and plenty of room.

At Mesa Harmony Garden, we say that "Labor is Free, but Water is Expensive." It's all volunteer work and nobody gets paid, but the water bill comes every month and we are determined to get that monkey off our backs. We spread large quantities of leaf mulch under the trees to delay evaporation and save water. The city gives this leaf mulch away -- the end-product from the green waste containers. You can pick it up free at several locations. Mesa Harmony Garden, because we are a non-profit, can ask for a truckload -- 10 to 15 yards of mulch, and we can use it all.

Also, the mulch smothers weeds, then breaks down and becomes an organic soil amendment. Good gardeners love mulch.

The other thing we do for water conservation is collect water off the parking lot and the roof of the Parish Hall. I need to backtrack and explain "Parish Hall." The garden occupies a one-acre fenced lot, property of the Holy Cross Catholic Church, but the Mesa Harmony Garden is a separate organization, a formally organized non-profit corporation with a 15-year lease on the premises, which gives us the freedom and time necessary for planting an orchard.

The parking lot, almost as big as the garden itself, is slightly uphill from the garden, so we capture all the runoff at the lower end and channel the water into a biological swale that will clean it up a bit before it flows onto the fruit trees.

Rain falls on the gutters of the Parish Hall and then flows into an above ground tank and that water gets piped downhill to the garden. Rain water is free and why waste it.


We do not rent plots to individuals as many community gardens do. The prime directive for this orchard is growing fresh fruit for the Santa Barbara Food Bank. We planted the orchard three years ago and this is the first season we are getting a decent harvest. Last week we picked 50 pounds of white-fleshed nectarines and plums. Next week we can begin harvesting peaches.

The trees are young and the fruit is small, but by next year we might be harvesting quite a volume of produce.

And we have gophers -- it's a constant battle. You know what the trick is for dealing with gophers? There is no trick. The only thing I can say is Never Give Up. This is nature in the raw, an endless struggle.

But I always want to believe what I hear about gophers, like someone said they never bother with the pepper plants, so when someone donated some habanero pepper bushes we planted them without gopher cages, and so far the gophers haven't touched them. That makes sense -- would you munch on habanero roots?

Mesa Harmony Garden has volunteer days twice a month. Go to the website and find out how you can help.
Too Much Empathy

What I have noticed about the Middle East is that they are in a time and place of complete empathy. Everything hurts. It is a culture that is all poetry and utterly lacking in science, industry and technology. It's totally out of balance. No wonder we say it's our oil underneath their sand. They didn't even know the oil was there, and when it was discovered they did not know what to do with it.
Now they are using imported smart phones to foment a revolution. But I would say, instead of waving the bloody flag, they might put up posters of the medieval Arabic scholars who had a balanced stance of poetry and reason and who guided our European ancestors toward this balanced vision.
I continue to study Arabic and find it very revealing. Here is my practice sheet for today. It says "the beautiful city" and I mean that to refer to Cairo -- may the beautiful side of this great city come to flourish. This is a two-word poem, and it is an act of empathy, but I would wish for those young fellow fighting in the street that they would go home or to the cafe and study chemistry and physics and mathematics, and devise state-of-the-art solar energy projects and construct highly efficient desalinization plants.Inline image 1
This practice sheet has not been corrected by my tutor and may contain mistakes.

If I were a Rich Man. I have no desk, no place to work. We saw Fiddler on the Roof last weekend, an outdoor summer theater production -- just a lovely old thing. At the end of the play, Tevya and his family have to leave their village and head for a new home. Gotta keep moving.

But, seeing the play, it made sense that I had studied Torah at Beth Shalom for three years. Participating in this Boston-area Jewish community was like living in Anatevka. So when I saw Fiddler on the Roof, I said to my girlfriend, yeah, I used to live there. Pictured here is Rev Moshe Holcer, who grew up in a place like Anatevka and who taught me so much.
Fred Owens's photo.

So I said to Rev Moshe one morning, "I don't have a place to work, a place to stay, a place to live, it never lasts, I can't even unpack." So Rev Moshe said to me just a few words. "Keep your hat on."

Subscriptions. Thank you --- Subscriptions can be paid at PayPal on the Frog Hospital blog for $25. Or you can mail a check to the address below,

--
Fred Owens
cell: 360-739-0214

My blog is Fred Owens

send mail to:

Fred Owens
35 West Main St Suite B #391
Ventura CA 93001

The Coyote Ate the Cat

Got a phone call from a friend in Nebraska, he said, "Retirement is like being unemployed until you're dead."
The guy got retired by his firm of long-standing -- shown the door.

"It really hit me last week. I had my tires rotated. I never did that before, never had the time. And I don't have hobbies. I hate hobbies."
You could travel.

"I might travel. My wife wants to go to India. I want to go someplace with good plumbing."

What are you going to do otherwise?

"I'm going to start feeding stray cats until I get 2 or 3 dozen crawling all over the place. Then I'm going to sit on the front porch and glare at people walking by."
Sounds like you have a vision.

"Just a way to pass the time. I enjoy pissing people off."

Edward Snowden. "I'm not going to be scrambling jets to get a 29-year-old hacker," Obama said, giving new meaning to the phrase "feigned indifference."

This is a classic Obama head fake. I suspect his minions are striving with great effort to secure Snowden, but until Snowden gets caught Obama pretends he doesn't care.

Likewise, Putin denies having his agents debrief Snowden at the Moscow airport -- sure.

Snowden makes a case that the USA operates an oppressive surveillance regime, but his case was weakened, to say the least, when he fled to China and Russia...... Out of the frying pan and into the fire.

Feelings. Men don't express their emotions -- women say that. Actually men express their emotions to each other, which is why I know how other men feel about things....... But you didn't talk, the woman said, I didn't hear it...... Well, that could be that men express their emotions to each other, but not to you, dear sister. We have our own ways of communicating...... But you didn't say anything, the woman said, I don't see your point.....And he said, Exactly, that was my point.........

Men express the emotions they have, not the emotions they don't have. Men don't have the same emotions that women have. A man might be expressing a feeling, and a woman might not understand that or even hear that because she has never had that feeling.

Men express their feelings to other men who have had that same feeling. They understand each other.

Women have feelings that men don't have. Men understand that. That's why men say, without embarrassment, "we don't understand you."

When a men has an emotion that is similar to a woman's emotion, then he can tell her about that, and she will understand.

When a man has an emotion different than what a woman has, she will not understand it.

I think that pretty much explains it. Did I leave anything out?

Master Gardener. A well-meaning relative suggested I take the Master Gardener Training Course. This confused me. "You think I should take the course? Gosh, I think I should be teaching the course."

I am a Master Gardener. I have had my hands in the dirt as long as I can remember. And I do things strictly by the book -- because I wrote the book.

And you can read it and you can learn from me. But it occurs to me that if my own relative thinks I need to take a course, then I must be presenting myself poorly. I need to receive a certificate at some kind of ceremonial conclave. The American Society of Horticulturists with the Best of Intentions awards Fred Owens with their Gold Medal, then I will be acknowledged as a Master Gardener.

More like Old Gardener. I'm an Old Gardener. But still learning. I can say I'm a gardener in Arabic. انا فلاح Ana Fellah -- when I get to the Middle East I will say that, and they will invite me to their homes and we will discuss the growing of things.

Laughing. I think this Frog Hospital essay is very funny. It makes me smile. Have a good weekend.

--
Fred Owens
cell: 360-739-0214

My blog is Fred Owens

send mail to:

Fred Owens
35 West Main St Suite B #391
Ventura CA 93001

Garden News

But first a comment that few people will appreciate.

Woman walks in coffee shop, slathered head to toe in hideous tattoos. Not much point in saying anything. Lovely skin, too bad she smeared ink all over it....... Land of a thousand dragons...... They always do dragons and butterflies..... Or else they try to be different, by inking a 1947 Packard or something odd, so then they will be the only guy/girl in Southern California with a 1947 Packard tattooed on their posterior....... Occasionally I see a tattoo that is mildly interesting, but most of them are gross and the despoiling of a beautiful body raised by loving parents. You put 18 years into raising a kid, and then they want to scribble on your masterpiece and rub your face in it...... It's a way of registering adult freedom, of course, but there are better ways to do that.

Write or call me for a list of better ways to establish adult freedom in your life -- I will be glad to help.

Tattoos are popular among people who are looking for permanence and security. A tattoo is something you can keep forever. No one can ever take it away from you, and in this changing and frightening world, it is understandable that people want something of their own that will stay with them. You can lose your teddy bear, or somebody might steal it, but the swan tat on your shoulder blade -- you can always have that, a friend forever who will never change or betray you. A flower that will never fade.
So there I was, sitting in the coffee shop, minding my own business, when the woman walks in with so many tattoos that it was LOUD, like she was wearing a dozen chipmunks on her shoulder and had a small alligator wrapped around her waist, and a banyan tree twining up her left leg, and perched on the tree was a flaming-red salamander. Kinda hard not to notice. But that's my annual tattoo rant, so, until next time, think before you ink.
Now We Have the Garden News. I'm going to harvest the red onions today. I planted them last fall and they should have gotten big by now, but I'm tired of waiting. Just dig them up and plant something else.
I will check this bag of seed packets and think about what to plant in place of where the onions were -- more cilantro maybe -- except we're coming into hot season, and it doesn't seem like a good time to plant anything.
The front yard sweet corn will be knee high soon. This is a lovely 5 by 12 patch right in back of the mailbox. It's an advertisement for the splendor of home gardening. "Grow Local, Eat Local" it says in a bright neon-green message to cars driving by. We will harvest the corn sometime in August and have a BBQ party, إن شاء الله (that's Arabic, "Insha'-Allah" which means God Willing, not strictly a Moslem saying but used by most Arabic speakers).
Next I will check the gopher trap I set early this morning. I have been serious about this lately. I go out first thing and look for fresh sign of the little dirt mounds they make. Then I dig it up and look for the tunnel and place the trap in it. I don't bother to bait it, or wear gloves to disguise human scent, or cover it to keep out the dark.
What I do is get 'em mad. Dig up their holes and let them know whose garden it is. Often enough they'll come right back to plug up the hole where I set the trap. Then they get caught.

I don't hate gophers -- All God's creatures have to make a living after all. But they can't eat my tomatoes.
Meanwhile we are harvesting nectarines and plums over at Mesa Harmony Garden. This is in a Santa Barbara neighborhood called the Mesa because it sits on a mesa -- a table top hill right near the beach that gets the cool ocean breeze and the morning fog. Not the best place for growing tomatoes because of the cool breeze, but awfully nice for garden workers among the fruit trees.

That's what we planted on this one-acre plot -- about 100 fruit trees -- plums, peaches, nectarines, apples, pears mainly, plus a small banana plantation. What people are realizing is that you can grow bananas in Santa Barbara -- using a variety that tolerates our warm and dry but not tropical climate. It will grow little bananas with orange-flavored sweetness, really excellent and toothsome, and banana trees are no trouble -- except they need water and plenty of room.
Water. At Mesa Harmony Garden, we say that "Labor is Free, but Water is Dear." It's all volunteer work and nobody gets paid, but the water bill comes every month and we are determined to get that monkey off our backs. We spread large quantities of leaf mulch. The city gives this leaf mulch away -- the end-product from the green waste containers. You can pick it up free at several locations. Mesa Harmony Garden, because we are a non-profit, can ask for a truckload -- 10 to 15 yards of mulch, and we can use it all.
Spreading mulch thickly under the trees delays evaporation and saves water. Also, the mulch smothers weeds, then breaks down and becomes an organic soil amendment. Good gardeners love mulch.

The other thing we do for water conservation is collect water off the parking lot and the roof of the Parish Hall. I need to backtrack and explain "Parish Hall." The garden occupies a one-acre fenced lot, property of the Holy Cross Catholic Church, but Mesa Harmony Garden is a separate organization, a formally organized non-profit corporation with a 15-year lease on the premises, which gives us the freedom and time necessary for planting an orchard.
The parking lot, almost as big as the garden itself, is slightly uphill from the garden, so we will capture all the runoff at the lower end and channel the water into a biological swale that will clean it up a bit before it flows onto the fruit trees.

Rain falls on the gutters of the Parish Hall and then flows into an above ground tank and that water gets piped downhill to the garden Rain water is free and why waste it.

We do not rent plots to individuals as many community gardens do. The prime directive for this orchard is growing fresh fruit for the Santa Barbara Food Bank. The harvest is not for sale or for trade, but we do get to munch on quite a few ripe nectarines as we pick them -- and this can be rationalized. A lusciously ripe and juicy peach may just as well be eaten on the spot, because it will never get to the Food Bank warehouse in time. Instead we aim to pick and deliver the firmer fruit to get a little shelf-life and allow for handling.
And we have gophers -- don't get me started. It's a constant battle. You know what the trick is for dealing with gophers? There is no trick. The only thing I can say is Never Give Up, because those little buggers will never give up either. This is nature in the raw, an endless struggle.
But I always want to believe what I hear about gophers, like someone said they never bother with the pepper plants, so when someone donated some habanero pepper bushes we planted them without gopher cages, and so far the gophers haven't touched them. Makes sense -- would you munch on habanero roots if you were a gopher?

Happy Summer,

Fred





--
Fred Owens
cell: 360-739-0214

My blog is Fred Owens

send mail to:

Fred Owens
35 West Main St Suite B #391
Ventura CA 93001

The Class of 6T8

The Class of 6T8. At St. Michael's College at the University Toronto, alumni gathered to celebrate their 45th reunion. I wish I could have come. Classmates sent me photos after the party. I can pass those photos on to whomever.
At another time I might tell stories of old times, but I have only a small taste for nostalgia. Better to share a tune. Joan Baez had such a sweet voice. The lyrics live in our souls. One Too Many Mornings.
And farewell to Fr. Madden, CSB, he made us a family.

That's enough, on with the news.

Riding to Damascus. Paul was riding to Damascus when God struck him down and made him a preacher..... Those were Roman times, then came the Byzantines, the Arabian tribes, the Mongols, the Ottomans, the French and the British.
Always riding to Damascus, but will we ever get there?

The war rages, but the writer of this letter cautions us to not so easily describe it as Sunni versus Shia. We want to take a side, we want to help -- our intentions are good. But it's an ancient puzzle and we are not ancient people.
Read this Letter to Damascus

Learning Arabic. I have begun to study and learn the Arabic language, spoken by 240,000,000 people. To speak it, read it and write it. I have so far learned the 28 letters and their pronunciation. My teacher is a college student at UC Santa Barbara. She is Chaldean -- you have to look that up. Her home language is Aramaic, plus the Arabic.
I believe that one hour studying the language is equal to 20 hours of reading the history and the news about Syria.

I say a few words, I recognize a few letters, and it feels like my head will explode (in a good way).
Being able to communicate with people -- that takes effort, but it is rewarding.

Below is Syria spelled out in Arabic letters. Five letters starting from the right -- sinn, waw, ra, ya, alif -- those are the names of those five letters.

سوريا

My teacher, after three lessons, said, "Which kind of Arabic do you want to learn, Classic or Levantine?" I was on the spot. Classic Arabic is the language of the Koran, of educated folk, of Al-Jazeera broadcast TV, and is widely understood, but it is the formal version of things. How people actually talk is the Levantine dialect in Syria -- quite different from how they talk in Egypt or the Gulf States or the Saharan countries, all of which have their own dialects. I choose to be thrilled by this complexity.

Farm News. In addition to delving into the Syrian mystery, I will get back to reporting the farm news from California. Here's the egg story.
Prop. 2, passed in 2008, requires California egg producers to make bigger cages for their hens. And here's my opinion -- well-intentioned consumers who want to be nice to chickens have passed a law that requires real chicken people to act in a good way. This is ignorance, but it's also typical of California voters to pass judgment on issues about which they know nothing.
Instead, I tell my fellow Californians -- you should get your own chickens and spoil them rotten if you wish to, build them palaces, fix them gourmet snacks. I'm not kidding -- that's a good thing to do. Or buy your eggs from people who spoil their chickens like you think they should be spoiled. Spread your poultry gospel of good will across the land.
But don't pass a law. We have far more regulations than anyone can even remember.

Set a good example -- you will accomplish so much more than attempting to control the behavior of other people.

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Fred Owens
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Thank you very much,

Fred Owens

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Boston is Important

Boston is an important city. You might think it's not important, but it is. Although Boston is nowhere nearly as important as New York City. Chicago is important, being the center of the farm belt and the heartland. Texas is important -- that's just the way it is. And California is important. Here's a few reasons.

California is the number one farm state -- They grow more food here than anywhere else.

California has the most people.

And the most immigrants --- California will rise or fall on the strength of immigration -- but they all want to come here.

California is number one in baseball -- with five major league teams, the Padres, Dodgers, Angels, Athletes and Giants.

California has the best-looking women.

Texas is a close second overall -- they have Ted Cruz.

For countries, Mexico is important, but Canada is not important. Canada is a very nice country, but it's not important.

Other nice places -- Seattle, Minneapolis, Denver, for example -- are good places to live, but they are not important.

But for some reason, Boston, not an especially large city, is important.

What is important?

“No, I’m not angry at anyone. No human being can do anything important enough for that. You get angry at people when you feel that their actions are important. I don’t feel that way any longer.”

–The Teachings of Don Juan

I need to point out what is obvious.

Being important is not really important.

Coming to Seattle and the Skagit in mid-August

Laurie and I are coming to Seattle and the Skagit in mid-August for about a week. We will need to bring sweaters and socks, I guess. Climate change! Culture shock! But it will be fun to see friends and family.

Figuring two nights in Seattle, two nights in Anacortes, two nights in Victoria, and then one more night in Seattle. We hope to see Butchart Gardens among other things, but don't want to over-plan this, just pay for the plane tickets and bring money.

My daughter lives in Ballard -- we will stay with her. We'll stay with friends in Anacortes. We'll book a lodge in Victoria -- anybody know a good place to stay in that town?

See ya,

--
Fred Owens
cell: 360-739-0214

My blog is Fred Owens

send mail to:

Fred Owens
35 West Main St Suite B #391
Ventura CA 93001

Enjoying Wealth

There are two ways to enjoy wealth. The good way is the simple pleasure of owning something, whether it be a comfortable chair or a cattle ranch or a fountain pen. These material items can add pleasure to our lives.

The bad way to enjoy wealth is to relish the power it gives you over other people. You get to go to the head of the line. Other people have to get out of your way. You can brag about what you have and excite the envy of people who don't have what you have..

Here's how it works for me. When I encounter a man, let's say he's very wealthy, and I see him enjoying the simple pleasure of a fine piece of woodwork, then I don't resent him, I'm happy for him.

But if his wealth gives him an attitude like he can get something over on me, no, no, I hate that attitude. And I despise that man.

The enjoyment of wealth is like any other activity, it can be done well or done poorly.

Now we discuss the attainment of prosperity. The simplest way to acquire wealth is to take it from somebody else. Robbing a bank comes to mind. You grab a hold of somebody else's money and now it's yours. By force or by guile. You can cheat in a game of cards. You can make and sell a faulty product. You can deliver half of the promised service, but charge the full price. That's the bad way to make money.

The good way to attain wealth is by adding to the value of what already exists, by creating a better pizza, by devising a swifter delivery of same, or by dry cleaning clothes in a less expensive and more environmentally-friendly manner.

We applaud this kind of wealth creation because every one benefits. We condemn the "taking" of wealth from other people. What we don't do is agree on what is the taking and what is the making -- that's politics, and I'm not getting into that today.

Don't Be a Fool. David Karp sold Tumblr to Yahoo and made $275,000,000 on the deal..... He's 26 and he invented a clever app, so he on his way to a billion dollars, while the rest of you 25-year-old chumps are struggling as unpaid interns with $50,000 in student loan debt and no way in hell you will ever pay it off.

The youth of America -- all idiots! Look around, one of you makes a billion dollars, and the rest of you get to "explore your creative potential" and collect food stamps.....

Comforter-in-Chief. The news anchor described Pres. Obama as comforter-in-chief as he addressed the nation with concern for the people of Oklahoma after the tornado disaster. This is a waste of time. The people of Oklahoma have the resources --- material and spiritual -- to recover from this disaster. They don't need a flyover from Air Force One as if in benediction.

Pres. Obama needs to deal with the situation in Syria -- that is his unique responsibility, that is where he should apply all his effort.

We can fix the mess here at home, and Obama should take care of the trouble overseas.

I am not sure what Obama can do in Syria, to intervene or to wait and see, to back the rebels with economic or military aid, to forge a better alliance with Turkey -- these are tough decisions. He should be working on it as his top priority, but we don't need him to fix Oklahoma.

Barbara Cram Was Bored

Barbara Cram died in 2009, but this story is about a few years earlier in her life --- those few years after she retired from her part-time job at a women's homeless shelter in downtown Seattle.
She had been working at the shelter for several years and loving it, not being in charge of anything, just being useful. Then she retired with no pension at age 70, just her social security check. She had worked at Nordstrom's many years ago, and been a social worker for some years. She had long experience as the founder and director of Friendship House, the homeless shelter in Mount Vernon, but she scarcely got paid for that work, and nothing went into her social security account.
All that was past when she retired in 2005 -- I think that was the year. Just a SS check every month and glad for it too. She had a lovely home in the Mount Baker neighborhood. She and Pat Simpson lived together there, along with Pat's two daughters who were almost grown.
But she was bored. She didn't like being retired, not enough to do. She watched the baseball game every day -- she loved her Mariners. And she was always reading a book.
Her principle activity was making an old-fashioned sit-down meat-and-potatoes dinner every night. It was awesome. Barbara did better cooking in those few years than anyone in Seattle. I can't even describe the gravy, from a pork roast, ladled over garlic mashed potatoes, with a side of fresh cooked green beans, then a glass of wine or the beer of your choice, and baked apples for dessert. My O My.
I should mention that I was a frequent overnight guest during those years. I did the yard work under Barbara's direction, and I got the sit-down dinner for a daily reward.

In the garden, Barb was her total bossy self. She never actually went in the garden, she just leaned over the rail of the deck and barked orders at me while I pruned the grape vines. "That branch, no, no, the one higher up, that branch."
Time for another cigarette. Barb was a ferocious smoker. You didn't dare tell her otherwise. She and Pat had the last house in Seattle with ash trays where you could just light up at the dinner table, after the dishes were cleared.
Barb was happy during those years but she was a little bored. The trouble was she didn't have any money, just enough for the groceries and household expenses and gas for the car. Not enough for traveling. Not enough for eating out at any decent restaurant, or for clothes. She said she disdained fashion, but I wonder -- she had all those years at Nordstrom's and she surely had a good eye for a fine line in a dress, and might have wanted to shop, to buy, to own .... something.

My Religion Is Better Than Your Religion

My religion is better than your religion. You should join my religion, you'll be glad if you do.

That's terrible. All religions are equally good. One religion cannot possibly be better than the others.

Says who? You just made up a rule that all religions are equally valid, but they're not. My religion is true and the other religions are not.

Whatever, I don't want to argue.

Me neither.


Florida Orange Juice is Juicier

Coca-Cola will spend $2 billion to support the planting of 25,000 acres of oranges groves in Florida. Coca-Cola owns Minute Maid and other juice brands. It's not the evil empire and their orange juice is good for you.
I bought a carton of fresh Florida orange juice at the supermarket in California.

California grows oranges for eating and Florida grows oranges for juice. That drives the locavores crazy. Orange juice from concentrate probably comes from Brazil which is the world's largest juice producer..

There's a reason behind all this. Florida's climate is far more humid than the Central Valley in California, so Florida oranges are juicier. On top of that Florida oranges are hard to peel and they don't look pretty, so they're better for juice.

California oranges look better. Actually, we are all just prettier in California, but especially the oranges. And easier to peel.

Add in the economy of large-scale production and you end up with a freight train speeding across the continent carrying fresh California navel oranges to Atlanta, while another train brings the juice from Florida to San Diego.

Food miles! Carbon emissions! Agribusiness!

Calm down, take it easy. We can change it.

It might be better if we could grow some juice oranges right here in California, ya think?

Heck, we have orange trees growing in the back yard here in Santa Barbara, ripe and ready to eat or to make juice with.

Orange Buying Tips. Don't buy oranges or any other fruit just by appearance. Sometimes the funny-looking guys are the best-tasting. And only buy Ruby Red grapefruits from Texas.
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Fred Owens
cell: 360-739-0214

My blog is Fred Owens

send mail to:

Fred Owens
35 West Main St Suite B #391
Ventura CA 93001

What’s the use?

What’s the use?

I invented a religion in 1971,

I called it the Church of the Holy Dawn.

We had dogma, scripture, liturgy and abuse,

But after a while I said what's the use.

I can't make promises,

I don't know the truth.

Worse and Worse. As of today, the war in Syria is getting worse.

Firefighting Skills Improve. The Springs fire in Ventura County, just north of Los Angeles, consumed 28,000 acres of brush with no loss of life or destruction of homes.

They're getting smarter about handling these blazes. Somehow a spark got it started on Thursday morning, a day of strong winds, high temperatures and very low humidity.

The fire quickly built up and began a race across the Santa Monica Mountains to the sea, twenty miles away.

It was that hot desert wind blowing off shore and pushing the flames -- it couldn't be stopped.

That's where the firefighters got smart -- they didn't try to head it off with a frontal assault. That only endangers and exhausts the fire crews and it rarely works.

Instead they dropped back and worked the sides of the fire to keep it on a narrower path -- steer it a little bit rather than try to put it out. They also ran defensive lines around a few housing developments.

The brush fire raged for two days. Then the weather changed. The wind died down, it got cooler, the humidity increased and the flames abated. With these more favorable conditions, crews were able to contain and extinguish the blaze.

It's just brush up there, it will all grow back. It's amazing how empty that country is and so near to Los Angeles. But you see why it's not a good place to live -- because of these brush fires, among other hazards.

Tampering with Nature. I support most human efforts to tamper with nature. It's just that once you start "fixing" things, you gotta keep fixing things.

When it comes to environmental issues, my belief is that every solution creates another problem.

So I favor whatever you propose as a mean of combating climate change. But I know your solution will create more problems, and the work will never be done.

This is not a discouraging message, not at all. It's just that we're always going to have work to do and we need to keep making adjustments. We can certainly control some of it, but never all of it.

Thank you --- Subscriptions can be paid at PayPal on the Frog Hospital blog for $25.

--
Fred Owens
cell: 360-739-0214

My blog is Fred Owens

send mail to:

Fred Owens
35 West Main St Suite B #391
Ventura CA 93001

Robert Sund, Charlie Berg, Tom Robbins

Passages from the Fishtown Blues book -- soon to be published

Charlie Berg -- if you remember him -- lived in South LaConner and may have said something like this in 1982.

“Yes,” Charlie said. “We live under a volcano and we’re all going to die. That’s why I keep these lawn chairs in the front yard. This is how I figure it – when she blows, the mud and ice come racing down the valley, first Concrete, then Lyman, Hamilton, Sedro-Woolley, one town after another all swallowed up, cows flung about like matchsticks, sirens blasting, people racing around, but not me – when I see that mud flow coming at LaConner I just sets me down in this lawn chair and watch the show. The End. We go out with a bang. It will be like the last surfer riding the biggest wave.”

Robert Sund's poem -- Himself, making a bold statement of his art

“I am the heir of Walt Whitman and a first cousin to Gandalf.
I row the marsh and the sweet yellow iris calls my name.
I sing the tide and work the wind up the river,
To Disappearing Lake, around Bald Island,
Returning on the ebb tide and through Hole-in-the-Wall.
Aflame with thirst, I drive my oared skiff to the LaConner Tavern,
To shoot pool and quaff pitchers of Olympic beer.”


Tom Robbins makes a brief appearance in the Fishtown Blues.

He says, to his African girlfriend, while sitting on the bench on the landing of the Benton Street stairs:

“Hold on a minute,” Tom said. “Let me tell you something. I want to live forever. I never want to die. Even if I died in my sleep with no pain or memory, I wouldn’t like it. I would like to get out of my body if it rots, but where could I go? That’s why I came to Zimbabwe, to find you, because you don’t fear death. I don’t fear death either, but the idea of it really pisses me off."


Then I wrote this poem

Moses, Calling for Old Moses, He Ain't What He Used to Be

She was climbing trees,
Eating black-eyed peas,
Dusting the credenza on her knees.

She was watering the roses,
Talking trash with her poses
Of triumph over Moses.

She said, "Moses, who you kiddin?
Your madness isn't hidden,
You lost us in the desert,
And you're sins are not forgiven."

Teenagers Arrested for Sexual Assault

Teenagers Arrested for Sexual Assault

This story is so wrong, and on so many levels, that I must write about it.

The young woman was sexually assaulted having passed out from drink. The assailants took photos of this crime and broadcast them on social media. Subsequently, the young woman committed suicide.

Can it be proven that her suicide directly resulted from the shame she felt about having these awful images displayed? That's a legal question.

But I would say very likely. If the photos had not been broadcast around her high school, she would not have taken her life.

This is what the news story seems to emphasize -- and this is a very wrong story, very wrong.

The crime was the assault. That was the harm, the evil thing. The photos made it worse, but the crime was the assault.

The story says it was sexual assault. The story says she fell asleep. It doesn't say she passed out -- but I'm thinking she passed out from too much booze and was unconscious and was unaware that she was being assaulted.

What else do I know? The story says the assailants were three 16-year-old-old boys. And what do we know about 16-year-old boys? They are dumber than a cow, and they are about four to five times hornier than the average adult male who is reading this newsletter. They are plug stupid and they easily go out of control.

Did anyone ever tell these boys that it was wrong, that you are not supposed to touch, disrobe, or fondle a female friend (let's assume they were friends) if she is passed-out drunk? And not take photos while you're doing this, and not share these photos on Facebook. Did anybody tell them anything?

I'm going to dig into this a little further -- to discuss the matter that didn't seem to get into the news story about this crime and death.

The girl was drunk. She was 15 and she was drunk. Can that ever be a good thing? It happens, but it can't be a good thing.

Not just drunk, but passed-out drunk.

The story does not say whether the three assailants were drunk, but I'm thinking they were also drunk, although clearly not passed-out drunk, but conscious enough to commit the crime, conscious enough to know it was wrong (assuming someone told them it was wrong).

Three 16-year-old boys, dumb as a cow when they're cold sober, extravagantly horny -- if you can remember how you felt when you were that age -- and then fueled up with booze, in the company of pretty women similarly fueled up.

I can think of numerous bad and dangerous outcomes in this scenario. Suicide by Facebook photo is only one horrible possibility, but there are many ways this party ends badly.

You know what I'm thinking -- if they hadn't been drunk they wouldn't have assaulted the girl, and if she hadn't been drunk, she wouldn't have let them.

Is my thinking clear here? You take away the booze and there's no assault, no photos, and no suicide.

Teenagers are capable of hurting themselves and others even under ideal circumstances.

But still, we should strive to keep them and guard them and protect them.

We need to be watching over them. We need to not only tell them what to do and not do, we need to be present, and not leave them alone in large groups for long periods of time.

Being watched and being instructed, they are less likely to get drunk and commit the crime of sexual assault.

To me, the sexting, the photos and the social media angle is secondary, yes, worse, but let's focus on the crime -- which was the sexual assault, and what led up to it and how to prevent it from happening again.

So I'm saying -- tell the boys this short message -- 1. respect women 2. no means no and 3. keep your hands to yourself. ....... You might need to repeat this.

If your No means No and your Yes means Yes, then they will get the idea about what No means. But if your No means kinda, sorta, maybe, then they will learn that No doesn't really mean No, so make it plain and clear.

I recommend hypocrisy. It doesn't matter what you did when you were that age. If it's wrong, tell them it's wrong.

And finally, we should all realize that adolescence is a dangerous age and always will be.

Too Serious. I'm not going to be getting too serious on you. The next issue promises to be completely off the wall -- a testimony to the anarchy of springtime, an ode to James Joyce and all the Irish tenors.

Ted Talks. I expect to be giving a TED talk pretty soon. I haven't made the deal yet, but it seems like the right venue. I considered the MOTH for telling stories, but I actually don't care for that format.

Purging the Mailing Newsletter. If you have received this week's newsletter, you have survived the purge -- 75 other people were deleted.... My hope is to send the letter only to people who actually want to read it. The typical Frog Hospital reader does not read every word of every issue -- that's not required -- but they do seem to enjoy the mix.

Most of you do not pay for a subscription. But some of you do pay and that makes it work for everyone.

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Fred Owens
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Fred Owens

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