Leaf Well Enough Alone

One of the downsides to living where there are four seasons is the transition from summer to autumn, especially for the trees and their leaves. I am very much of the 'live and let live' persuasion which translates to the 'lie and let them lay' position on leave gathering, especially since I have NO trees on my property and so I refuse to get involved in this leaf-sweeping operation. 

I've noticed in my neighborhood, some of us have gathered so many, it's as if we're waiting for them to fall from the trees and nab them on the first bounce. In many places, I've seen these VERY large paper bags filled with leaves-in theory because the paper is biodegradable, all of it can go directly into the landfill--or do you think they're headed for incinerators? Around here we have trash to power incineration units though I've no idea how much energy we get from such an operation. 

For millions of years, I estimate, we as a species did nothing with the leaves as they fell. You see all that dirt all around us? I have a funny feeling where some of it might have come from and I'm not sure what we're accomplishing by how we're operating now. While I wasn't looking compost has become a lost cause, it seems, perhaps even a dark art. 

In its place, we have created a first-class annoyance, the leaf blower. We went from devices that looked like vacuums and picked up fallen leaves and plopped them into bags (do you remember those?) to a gadget that hangs from your hip and can be used to blow leaves that have fallen on your property into someone else's yard or out into the street. 

I think leaf blowers are a much more accurate and contemporary symbol of America in the 21st Century than either the Bald Eagle or the Stars & Stripes. There's nothing that says "Screw You!!" more than a guy on a Saturday afternoon working a leaf blower wearing dark shades with Ibuds in both ears. 

I'd ask him why he's doing what he's doing, but he's as oblivious to me right now as I am to him for the rest of the year. Ahh, Sweet Suburbia. We've got Mother Nature on the run--now what?
-bill kenny

Java Jive

I don't remember who it was, but at some point in the recent past, an instant coffee maker advertised that its coffee was freeze-dried before they stuck it in the glass jars and shipped it to the grocer.  

I dimly recall drinking it for some period of time because when you get up at 0300 for work basically six days a week, you have to reach some point more or less in the middle of the morning before you're awake enough to actually appreciate freshly brewed coffee from beans. 

Having had the freeze-dried stuff, I found this story on deep-fried coffee vaguely appealing. 

Not enough to try it, mind you, but interesting enough to watch as I let my cuppa grow cold.
-bill kenny

Already Have the Bod

Here's something you may not know, but trust me it's true. After your children grow up and start on the adventures that are to be their lives, you will always see them as small children. 

We have tons of photos but I don't need any of them as I tell myself that I remember every day of their growing up even though I suspect I'm kidding myself about that. I'm assuming to make room for all those memories I've had to delete a lot of formerly (in an earlier lifetime) useful stuff like how to fix cars and throw a perfect spiral pass. 

Which leads me to bad and then good science news. First on the face of it, bad news. On the other hand, who wants a wrinkly brain, anyway? 

But that grey cloud is wrapped around this silver lining. 

Dad brain? Yes, two servings, please!
-bill kenny

The Nation Which Forgets Its Defenders

I wrote what follows a dozen years ago. I think it bears repeating.

Today began as Armistice Day, marking the end of "The War to End All Wars" also known as World War One, but sadly, failing to achieve its goal, hence the numerical suffix. For most of the thirty-five nations who fought in it, it lasted the better part of five years, from 1914 to 1918; we in the United States didn't become a combatant until 1917 but made up in ferocity of engagement what we lacked in the length of deployment. 

The world one hundred or so years ago was very different than the one in which we live and is so unlike today that it's as if it were another universe. If we survive as a country and culture for another one hundred years, what will now look like to those here then, I wonder.

There are many observances around the country today. Like ours in Norwich, Connecticut,  the ceremonies are often simple with little pomp and circumstance as is probably most befitting to celebrate a well-shared national experience. In 2020, the last year I could find verifiable statistics, there were about eighteen million veterans among us. 

We honor all those who serve in our nation's armed forces, living and deceased. In the aftermath of the 9/11 attacks, the size of our veteran population, the imperative and importance of taking care of all those who are wounded in body and/or in spirit, grows exponentially. 

Veterans Day remembers and recognizes all the characteristics embodied by those who serve as well as those who wait for them which allows us to remain the freest nation in the history of the world.

I'm old now but I can remember the boy I was who listened to a Navy veteran of the War in the Pacific during World War Two, just elected President of the United States, urging us to "...pay any price, bear any burden, meet any hardship, support any friend, oppose any foe, in order to assure the survival and success of liberty."

The elections earlier this week both capped and sparked a lot of discussion and more, that fixated on attempting to determine what's wrong with our nation and who is responsible. Today is a day to remember all that is right with us, and with one another.
-bill kenny

Never Have I Ever

I think no matter where you live you've played a variant of Truth or Dare at some point in your life. Looking back at seven-plus decades I'm reconciling myself to the idea that I've been involved in a very prolonged game of it for decades at a time it seems. As a matter of fact, I'm so good at it I may not always realize I'm still playing.

Got stuck early on in the verse about 'please her, please him, buy gifts, don't steal, don't lift, twenty years of schoolin' and they put you on the day shift.' As it happened, I was a bit light on the education but made up for it with the shi(f)t work. 

However. Something I've told myself I'd love to do is check out hot air balloons like these, except even while typing that statement I will also acknowledge I don't like flying in airplanes and some of the longest moments of my life have been in helicopters while either shooting video or just being a passenger.  

And yet, the attraction remains. Maybe it should be called Truth and Dare?
-bill kenny 

If You Can Believe in Something Bigger than Yourself

This Friday, Veterans Day is a day off, and maybe an opportunity to get a head start on Christmas shopping for many of us. Yeah, I know most of us have more wishes than wallets but we're getting to the point of the calendar where events seem to pile up on top of one another. 

I'd hope you could spare the time Friday even if you are shopping to find an observance, there will be more than conducted across the region, honoring some, most, and actually ALL of those who've worn the uniform of our Armed Forces just to make note of their sacrifice and of their service. 

Veterans Day gets confused often with Memorial Day, but from its beginnings, as the pause at eleven minutes after the eleventh hour on the eleventh day of the eleventh month in 1918 to mark the end of World War I (the war to end all wars-who says The Lord has no sense of humor?), it's much more universal and more all-encompassing.

Veterans Day, if I'm being honest (and savor this because it doesn't happen that often) is one of the few days of the entire year when I remember my family's ties to haircuts, uniforms, shoe shines, and open-rank inspections. I served eight years in the Air Force; everyone who served with me has often (and very loudly) said it felt longer and then I worked for the Department of Defense for another thirty-five years. 

I think about my dad's two brothers, Uncle George (his older brother, Michael's real name. No one ever told me why he was called George. George was in the US Army stationed in Germany and went home to California to work for Sparkletts (who bought drinking water in the 1950s, Los Angelenos, that's who) with his braut, Mitzi)) and his younger brother, Uncle Jack, who spent almost a career in the USAF before his wife, Alice, died of cancer and he was left to raise their tribe of children by himself.

I recall my mother's two younger brothers, Uncle Jim (on the US Army CISM swim team. Jim served in the Honor Guard at the Tomb of the Unknowns. He smoked Camel cigarettes that he opened from the bottom of each pack) and Uncle John (who was wounded at Pork Chop Hill during America's nearly-forgotten war, Korea).

John should have never been in the Army because he could only see out of one eye. When the doctor administered the vision test, he covered his bad eye with his left hand and read the chart. When the doctor told him to 'change eyes', John switched hands but continued to cover the bad eye. 

All of them were ordinary men, as were all of those with whom they served. The famous people who are mentioned in our history books are only possible because of all of those whose names are NOT in them. All made extraordinary sacrifices for generations unborn and never to be known by any of them. That's what Friday is all about.

There will be a small event Friday starting at one o'clock at the Richard Hourigan Veterans of Foreign Wars (VFW) Post 594 in the Norwich Business Park, sponsored by the post and the Norwich Area Veterans Council (NAVC). 

I always try to attend even though I don't know anyone from either the VFW or NAVC. They don't seem to mind that I tag along and I'm pretty sure they'd be okay if you came, too. You could sit near me, as oddly, there's always plenty of room.

The ceremony is not so much somber as respectful usually with guest speakers who do what they can to help us to remember to say thank you to anyone who ever wore a uniform, wherever and whenever that might have been. As times change and we age, memories are sometimes our most precious possessions, and observances like the one Friday help keep them alive and part of our shared experience. I hope you'll remember to attend.
-bill kenny

It's Frighteningly Simple

I live in a town with a population of slightly under 40,000 residents and just over 20,000 registered voters. 

When all is said and done today, I'll be dancing on the ceiling if 40% of all those who are eligible to vote have decided to do so. It's not usually that large a turnout around here, or anywhere it seems to me unless we're talking a Presidential election year even though the last time I checked, the President didn't have a vote in either the upper or lower house of our state legislature, whose members we are choosing today, or is also one of our Senators, any of our five congressional representatives or our Governor. 

But we'll all still stay home because complaining about problems is a lot easier than attempting to do anything to fix them.  And besides, why bother, right? 

Sort of a choice of cancer or polio, ain't it? Sorry, no it's not. 

You have these azzholes, and every and any variation of them you can imagine (picture the last days of the Weimar Republic but with lots of red baseball caps) with my personal favorites being the ones who want me to move on or attempt to 'whatabout?' all of their shady shit at every level of government for the last six years with me. It's called gaslighting. Look it up.  

The choice on any ballot is the same on every ballot everywhere and everywhere today.

Now stop reading this stuff and if you haven't already voted, go do that now, please.
Subject to your questions, this concludes my briefing.

-bill kenny