Merry Christmas!

I was going to write a nice warm and fuzzy column for today. After all it is Christmas Eve. I was going to talk about the glories of Christmases long, long ago because it is the most wonderful time of the year. I really wanted to tug at your heartstrings and write about chestnuts and wassailing, what ever that is.
But then I heard about the kitties. And I saw the pictures of the kitties. And I began to wonder if there are indeed any “ better angels of our nature” as Lincoln said 147 years ago.
There isn’t much that shocks me anymore. Reading the paper and watching and listening to the news on a regular basis has thoroughly tamped down my shock mechanism. When you live in a world where a Mommy can put a newborn outside in sub zero weather you begin to get a bit jaded. At least I do.
But the kitties got to me. The pictures set the hook. Little kitties with their ears sagging under the weight of so called “bananabells” is just plain wrong. Ever see pictures of dogs dressed up for Halloween? They all have this expression in their eyes that seems to say “Why are you doing this to me? I feel ridiculous.” Looking at the kitties they seem to be saying “This is wrong. Take this crap off me!”
You see, the kitties had no say in the matter. And that’s what really is wrong.
I know they are just dumb animals. But they do have the ability to learn ( can they think?) and feel pain. And we as their caretakers have a responsibility to do right by them. A responsibility not to make them into “Gothic Kittens.”
I am going to make a ridiculous comparison. In some of the less than civilized parts of the world a practice called Female Genital Mutilation is done to young girls, presumably without their consent. I don’t think I need or want to go into the details. I know, I know, to compare that to the mutilations of kitties is a far stretch even for me. I do think, however you can tell a great deal about a society by the way it treats it’s pets, not to mention it’s young girls. It’s just a quick slide down the slippery slope to hell that lives in my mind to get there. I said it was a ridiculous comparison. But it happens every day.
One of the kitties was advertised as a gothic cat under the name “Snarley Monster” on various on-line sites.
I think we know who the real monsters are. Or then again I could be wrong.

Doggone

He had been barking all night. I have trouble sleeping sometimes and this was one of those nights. It was the day after the big ice storm. Everything had been covered in a film of black ice. Walking anywhere on the Rising Ranch was next to impossible. A trip from the house to the garage was life threatening. A gymnast would have been envious of my moves as I got my feet above my head twice. Haven’t done that since kindergarten. But this was the next day. I rise early. It could be the name. It could be that I have to be at the gym for 5am. I am the first guy there. I like to arrive a little early. I get up at 4am most days but day after ice storm days I get up at around 3:30. I wasn’t asleep anyway. The dog had kept me up. The ice was mostly gone but now it was raining. Hard. And it was cold. The dog seemed to be barking more frantically now. Dogs can communicate a lot with a bark. This one was saying very plainly, “Help!” It sounded close. Real close.

I grabbed a five cell flashlight. Cops call them emergency nightsticks. Walking was a nightmare. It’s uneven ground and was soaking wet and slippery. Mud tried to suck my boots off. I could see the dog on the other side of our fence thru the privacy slats. Technically it was on the annoying neighbor’s property but it wasn’t his dog. Its eyes shone dull red in the flashlights beam. I had to walk to the end of the fence and back up again. Did I mention the cold hard rain? I got a look at the animal thru the rain from about five feet away. It was a big white dog, could have been an Airedale or a large standard poodle. It was stuck somehow. I got a little closer and it snapped and growled at me. This was above my pay grade.

Back at the house on with 911 they promised to “send” someone.

By the time I had to go no show. After an hour I checked in with the Long Suffering Wife and still no joy. This time the 911 call connected me to the State Police who took the info. And someone came for the dog.

He probably wouldn’t have made it much longer. It was just below freezing and he was in some distress.

Later on I got calls from the ASPCA and the Dog warden. Did I report a lost dog? This was hours later. Glad it wasn’t my dog. Or me. But then again I could be wrong.

A bit of undigested Roast Beef....

Charles Dickens wrote the following exchange between Ebenezer Scrooge and two charity workers for his Christmas Carol 164 years ago. With apologies to Mr. Dickens I have taken the liberty of updating it somewhat for this festive season that doth approacheth. Wow-that’s a Dickens type word. Easy to fall into his pattern. 16 days till Christmas, gentle readers.

"At this festive season of the year, Mr. Scrooge," said the gentleman, taking up a pen, "it is more than usually desirable that we should make some slight provision for the poor and destitute, the horseless carriage makers, the lenders and the ninny’s who play the stock market and who suffer greatly at the present time. Many thousands are in want of huge bailouts; hundreds of thousands are in want of big government bucks, air."

"Are there no prisons?"

"Plenty of prisons. But OJ is already going to serve at least nine years. And even as we speak our Great President Bush is busy pardoning many a white collar criminal. The prisons are no place for the rich Mr. Scrooge. The very thought of placing the leaders of the financial free world in prisons. It makes one shudder. Haven’t you ever heard the words of the great bard Dylan?”

“Dylan Thomas?”

“Um no. Bob, not Thomas my good sir. In any case you and Dickens will be long dead before either of them are born. But I speak of the Dylan who sang “Steal a little and they throw you in jail, Steal a lot and they make you king.”

“What shall I put you down for?"

"Nothing!"

"You wish to be anonymous?"

"I wish to be left alone. Since you ask me what I wish, gentlemen, that is my answer. I don't make merry myself at Christmas, and I can't afford to make idle people merry. I help to support the prisons and the workhouses, -- they cost enough, -- and those who are badly off must go there. So send the big three horseless carriage makers, Ford CEO Alan Mulally, General Motors CEO Richard Wagoner and Chrysler CEO Robert Nardelli to the end of the unemployment line. "

"Many can't go there; and many would rather die."

"If they would rather die, they had better do it, and decrease the surplus population."

Of course we all know how the story comes out. Scrooge is confronted by three ghosts and has his attitude readjusted. Unfortunately for us a little attitude adjustment isn’t going to solve our current economic disaster. The Bob Cratchit’s of the current bona-fide recession won’t be helped even if Scrooge buys them the biggest turkey he can find. It’s gonna be a long cold lonely winter. Or then again, I could be wrong.

Gobble, Gobble.

It’s the day before Thanksgiving and all the through the house….no wait I’m mixing it up with Christmas again. In any case tomorrow starts the free fall headlong rush into the holidays or as I like to put it the “Holidaze”. No work gets done, people get distracted and weight goes back on. It’s a month long combination of a slowdown in some ways but a frantic pace in others. I could take this time to reminisce about the glories of Thanksgivings long ago. Like the one where the turkey landed with a splash in the toilet. I have told that one before though. I could also use this space to talk about my oldest son’s Thanksgiving last year. He has settled in the Deep South and sent me pictures of himself deep frying a turkey. Any enterprise involving cooking, a 55 gallon drum filled with boiling oil and a fire extinguisher just seems like a good time to me. But that’s a story for another time. I could let you in on the Thanksgiving dinner my out of state Daughter cooked. A guest finished her meal and then whipped out the Tupperware and proceeded to pack the leftovers for herself. Not really in the spirit of things but a story best left untold for now. No, today I want to concentrate on letter to the editor I saw a while ago. In Broadheadsville there is a diner called Penelope’s. This year as they have for quite some time they will once again offer a free Thanksgiving Day dinner to the needy. They serve 100 people free of charge. It’s a great thing to do and I applaud it. But the real reason I want to bring some attention to this is the message of the letter. Let me quote you some of the text. “At Thanksgiving, we at Penelope’s pray for the safety of our Men and Women in the military, a cure for Cancer and, especially for God to grant wisdom to our elected officials to guide us to peace and prosperity.”
At the beginning of the letter the writer references a 1,000 meal giveaway done in the spring. And they say “Since that time we’ve not seen an improvement in the financial situation in our community.”
But at Penelope’s they don’t just wring their hands in quiet desperation. They roll up their sleeves and feed the hungry. Sure in the big scheme of things it doesn’t make a difference. But to those hungry and in need tomorrow I can assure you it makes a BIG difference. What we need in this great country of ours right now is lots more Penelope’s diners. Have a safe and happy Thanksgiving.

A time for every season

It’s Fall. Any number of tell tale signs confirm this. Just a glance at the calendar should be enough. But many other sights, sounds and smells tell me that it’s time to put the shorts away for another year. Smells? Sure. The tang of burning leaves. Of course someone is always burning something near the Rising Ranch but I don’t mind the smell of a pile of leaves smoldering. Smells like…..Fall. Of course to go along with the burning leaves you hear the incessant dull roar of leaf blowers across the landscape. I can put up with it. I myself hate the end of the rake that you have to hold. You know. The side that gives you blisters? So a leaf blower works fine for me. I do understand it is possible to use them during the day and not at 6am or after 9pm but who am I to quibble? Sights? Well for one thing the deer and other animals have begun the annual migration from the left side to the right side of the road. But then again some of them are contrarians and go from right to left. Of course they do this all year long but for some reason during the fall the animal population of Northeastern Pa seems to live on the asphalt. Or more likely, die on the asphalt. Judging by the amount of corpses on and beside the road we have no fear of extinction of skunks, opossums or deer anytime soon. But some are luckier than others. The other day I saw a huge flock of turkeys and I wasn’t at a political rally. Rim shot, please. There must have been 20 or more, all in a line, taking their sweet time to cross the road. I stopped to watch. The tail end Charlie stopped and turned to look back at something. The rest of the flock was well into the woods. Charlie turned and if he was a human you would have heard him say “Woo woo woo.” Like Curly of the Three Stooges. He jumped a few feet in the air, shook his head and ran after the flock with that peculiar turkey trot in high gear. It was a Disney moment. It’s Fall. It’s the last few days of fifty degree temperatures before the deep freezer door is left open to chill us to the bone until Spring. Its bushel baskets of apples, piles of pumpkins that will not be Jack-o-lanterns but may become pies or soup. It’s the planning and thinking and plotting out the Thanksgiving feast. And it’s the first time you hear Christmas carols and see decorations, too soon, always too soon. But then again, I could be wrong.

The taxman cometh.

All of the nearly 200 have the same words. Reading them all over and over again is a mind numbing exercise but probably not as mind numbing as seeing your own property in the Luzerne County Sheriff’s sale flyer. I can’t imagine what it must be like to see your home or business to be listed in the stilted legal jargon. “Exposed to public sale by vendue or outcry to the highest and best bidders.” I had to look up “Vendue.” It means “a public sale at auction.” Outcry I had no problem with. It’s interesting though that the word cry slips into what looks to me to be a somewhat heartless process. There are, to be exact, 182 sales in this flyer dated Friday November 21st. Its 28 pages long. I am willing to bet that there are more than 182 stories to go along with those listings. You can read between the lines on some of them by looking at the title section. Lots of titles held by husbands and wives with one or the other deceased. Now with the spouse gone the house is too expensive or too big or too something. The kids don’t want it or live out of state or there are no kids. The payments to the taxman are forgotten and the property will soon be up for grabs to the highest or the best bidder. Best bidder? Who gets to decide what is best for what was a home once and is now just another line in the Luzerne County Sherriff’s sale. Some sales I am sure are the product of divorce. Some are just business as usual. Some may even be up for sale because or criminal activity. The cold hard fact is that we have on our hands the perfect storm of economic strife. High gas prices, tumbling stocks, and rampant unemployment. Here in Luzerne County we also face the reassessment that just took place and will take effect next year unless a dark planet crashes into the sun. Many many more of these sales will be taking place. So much so that I fear that the future Luzerne County Sheriff’s sale flyer may be the size of a set of encyclopedias. You may see that one delivered by tractor trailer trucks. It’s not funny, this grim prognosis. People’s lives will change. Whole neighborhoods may be looking like the streets of Centralia before this is done. I am sure that the Sherriff and his department take no joy from all this. To be part of a process that in the legal words involves “seized and taken” can’t be something to look forward to during your workday. But then again, I could be wrong.

Did you Boscov Today?

Now don’t get me wrong. I am not saying that losing the Boscov store in downtown Wilkes-Barre would be a good thing. But I question some of the statements made recently by the powers that be about the city of Wilkes-Barre loaning 3 million smackers to keep it afloat. Mayor Tom Leighton swears-no wait let me rephrase that because we know Tom Leighton does NOT swear. He wouldn’t say excrement if he had a mouth full of it. It’s not in his vocabulary. Not even if he hits his thumb with a hammer. Hizzoner said “This will have no impact on the taxpayers.” Interesting choice of words. Impact? Does that mean if the loan to a bankrupt store, which after all is what Boscov is right now, is never repaid then that’s ok? Then where did the money come from? “This money does not come out of our general fund” says the Mayor. Then where from does it come? The special fund? The fund to pay for losing lawsuits against private citizens? That fund has been tapped out recently. According to published reports the loans are being financed through the U.S. Department of Housing and Urban Development. They have an address in Washington D.C. I checked it on the internet which is now, as Homer Simpson says, on computers. So the money is coming from our country tiz of thee’s Government. Where does the Government get that money? From the big printing press in the Bureau of Engraving and Printing, I know. It’s just down the street. But where does the money really come from? Here’s a hint. You pay taxes, right? And even though the Mayor says all is well a teeny tiny bit of uncertainty exists. Todd Vonderheid, Chief Executive of the Greater Wilkes-Barre chamber of Business and industry said “There’s clearly some risk.” Hmmm. 3 Million dollars is a lot of risk in a city that from all appearances does not have mountains of cash stored in silos. I hope Boscov’s survives. I really do. Because I have this sinking feeling if they don’t that I know who will be paying the bill no matter what the powers that be say. Oh and could they use some of the 3 million to maybe spruce up the joint a tad? Last time I was there the store was showing its age and not well. A little paint, some new carpets and maybe a swipe with a dust mop would be a help. Near the escalator that was broken that day I counted in my line of sight 15 light fixtures with burned out bulbs.
If the lights are out, there isn’t anybody home. Or then again I could be wrong.