California is considering a ban on the sale of shark fins which is a delicacy and used in a traditional Chinese soup. Washington, Oregon, and Hawaii have already banned shark fin sales. Some ethnic Chinese see the ban as an attack on their culture in which shark fin soup is traditionally served at weddings costing as much as $100 a bowl to impress guests.
The problem is that centuries ago when shark fin soup became popular, sharks were not easy to catch. Presumably that's where the tradition came from. It was a delicacy because it wasn't readily available. Now however, sharks are being efficiently and easily hunted to extinction. Tens of millions of sharks (yes you read that correctly) are killed annually to feed the market for their fins. In this fishing business sharks are caught, their fins cut off, and their dead bodies thrown back into the ocean. Sharks face extinction due to overfishing. What then will replace shark fin soup?
At the top of the marine food chain sharks are essential to the health of our oceans. You can't say the same thing about shark fin soup. Not one soul will perish due to a shortage of shark fins. Yet, should sharks become extinct the whole ecology of our oceans could change dramatically. Just how is unknown.
I may be taken for a cultural Neanderthal but I think that protecting the oceans for the world profoundly overwhelms anyone's "need" for shark fin soup. Sharks typically bear only one or two pups a season which naturally keeps their numbers low and hampers their ability to rebound from overkill. The species as a whole cannot survive the Chinese taste for this soup.
Sadly, I can no longer eat some of my traditional meals. It may seem that my heritage and traditions aren't important or as widely followed. But you would be wrong. I grew up eating pot roast, gravy and mashed potatoes at one grandmother's house and traditional southern fried chicken and gravy and corn bread at my other grandmother's house (but no okra, too slimy). I can't eat like that anymore. My doctor hints that I might just drop dead one day eating such meals. So we have devised other traditional meals for health reasons. Our day to day eating habits have also changed to reflect current advances in nutritional knowledge. Of course that changes daily but we gamely try to eat a healthy diet without too much planetary destruction.
Really and truly no one will drop dead if traditional meals are changed and updated to reflect current realities. The whole world shouldn't have to pay the cost for one group's antiquated tradition. It's simply too high.
Friday, August 26, 2011
Thursday, August 25, 2011
Going to the Dogs
As many times as I've written about dogs you'd think I'm a real dog person. Not really. But in the summer I am here with animals a lot. For example, I don't take my dog to dog beach or to the dog park. He doesn't go on vacation with us and I don't expect other people to like him. He sleeps outside and there are parts of the house, like the kitchen where he is not allowed. He sheds unmercifully and I dislike dog hair in my food. My living room is also a dog-free zone so there is little dog hair there either. I'm not a big fan of other people's dogs either. It's kind of like kids. I like my own but not other people's.
If you remember, I tried out a rescue dog a few weeks ago that didn't work out. I wanted a small lap dog. Now I know it's not cool to want a lap dog, what The Boy calls "an almost dog", but in their defense I must say they don't destroy the house or yard, chew up your shoes, or take 2 years to become an adult dog. The yard is also a small clean up job.
You can see where this is leading. I got another dog. This time I went to a breeder. Before you scream, "Oh god, you should have rescued a shelter dog!", let me just say that the shelters here are filled with chihuahuas and pit bulls, neither of which appeals to me. Or other people either to judge the numbers of them in shelters.
The breeder had 2 week old puppies that looked suspiciously like little kidney beans curled up in their basket. I would have to wait an additional 8 weeks if I wanted one and I'm not too good at delayed gratification. I'd have to just pick out one out regardless of temperament. Frankly in my experience, kidney beans don't have that much personality. Racing around the house was a 6 month old that had just been returned to the breeder after less than a week at her first home. The owner claimed the dog was totally bonded to the husband and as she was a gift for the wife, this was unacceptable. Watching her at the breeder's house she was energetic, playful, and friendly. So, after much agonizing and bouncing between "Yes I should and no I shouldn't" ("If you want a dog, mom, get a dog. It's just a dog, not a kid!" advised the The Boy) I purchased the puppy.
Once home the puppy became as skittish as a feral cat. And she was so small and agile that catching her to put her outside required herding her into corner with no escape routes. It was a couple of days of hand feeding her wet dog food (yuck) before she would let me touch her. On the flip side, the little bitch bonded to hubby right away. I'd let her inside after he'd gone to work and she'd race around the house, up and down the stairs, looking for him. When satisfied that she'd explored every room and hadn't found him she deigned to let me touch her.
She also bonded with my other dog and now imitates whatever he does. He gets a drink, she pushes in beside him and has a few sips. he lays down and sleeps on the floor she lays right beside him and sleeps. I put him in the garage when the gardener arrived and she went nuts trying to get in the garage with him. So I locked her in there too. Can't say I'm not accommodating!
I'm sort of looking forward to the meeting of the Big Dog and the X-small dog in a kind of sick way. Should be funny, at least for me. The Big Dog will be here while The Boy goes on another short vacation. The XS dog isn't afraid of too much. I can tell because she's unfazed by the sound of the small shop vac we use to clean up "accidents".
Unfortunately, she's not a cuddler yet. She spent 6 months at the breeder's house and wasn't petted very often. But I'm not discouraged. Like every other dog I know she loves peanut butter so I'm sticking with food to win over the little bitch. Some for her, some for me, some for her, some for me. Gastronomic dog training at it's finest.
If you remember, I tried out a rescue dog a few weeks ago that didn't work out. I wanted a small lap dog. Now I know it's not cool to want a lap dog, what The Boy calls "an almost dog", but in their defense I must say they don't destroy the house or yard, chew up your shoes, or take 2 years to become an adult dog. The yard is also a small clean up job.
You can see where this is leading. I got another dog. This time I went to a breeder. Before you scream, "Oh god, you should have rescued a shelter dog!", let me just say that the shelters here are filled with chihuahuas and pit bulls, neither of which appeals to me. Or other people either to judge the numbers of them in shelters.
The breeder had 2 week old puppies that looked suspiciously like little kidney beans curled up in their basket. I would have to wait an additional 8 weeks if I wanted one and I'm not too good at delayed gratification. I'd have to just pick out one out regardless of temperament. Frankly in my experience, kidney beans don't have that much personality. Racing around the house was a 6 month old that had just been returned to the breeder after less than a week at her first home. The owner claimed the dog was totally bonded to the husband and as she was a gift for the wife, this was unacceptable. Watching her at the breeder's house she was energetic, playful, and friendly. So, after much agonizing and bouncing between "Yes I should and no I shouldn't" ("If you want a dog, mom, get a dog. It's just a dog, not a kid!" advised the The Boy) I purchased the puppy.
Once home the puppy became as skittish as a feral cat. And she was so small and agile that catching her to put her outside required herding her into corner with no escape routes. It was a couple of days of hand feeding her wet dog food (yuck) before she would let me touch her. On the flip side, the little bitch bonded to hubby right away. I'd let her inside after he'd gone to work and she'd race around the house, up and down the stairs, looking for him. When satisfied that she'd explored every room and hadn't found him she deigned to let me touch her.
She also bonded with my other dog and now imitates whatever he does. He gets a drink, she pushes in beside him and has a few sips. he lays down and sleeps on the floor she lays right beside him and sleeps. I put him in the garage when the gardener arrived and she went nuts trying to get in the garage with him. So I locked her in there too. Can't say I'm not accommodating!
I'm sort of looking forward to the meeting of the Big Dog and the X-small dog in a kind of sick way. Should be funny, at least for me. The Big Dog will be here while The Boy goes on another short vacation. The XS dog isn't afraid of too much. I can tell because she's unfazed by the sound of the small shop vac we use to clean up "accidents".
Unfortunately, she's not a cuddler yet. She spent 6 months at the breeder's house and wasn't petted very often. But I'm not discouraged. Like every other dog I know she loves peanut butter so I'm sticking with food to win over the little bitch. Some for her, some for me, some for her, some for me. Gastronomic dog training at it's finest.
Wednesday, August 24, 2011
Those Who Can't, Tell Others How To
Although I swore I wouldn't write about my work, I am forced to comment. I dreamed this morning that funding to education was cut so much that my school collapsed and everyone in my building died. I don't know if that was wishful thinking (the school collapsing, not dying) or an opinion about education today.
I am continually amazed, although I don't know why after all these years, that every podunk Representative and Senator and gubernatorial appointee thinks they have the "answer" to the education "crisis" in this country. I wonder if there really is a crisis or if it's a political creation. Students from all over the world flock to this country to attend our universities. These same universities admit students from our own "terrible" public schools and go on to graduate with advanced degrees. In fact there are more qualified students than spaces available here in California.
The problem is that everyone who WENT to school thinks they know how to educate children. If that were the case then no one would need a teaching credential. Students could just step seamlessly from the college classroom to their own classroom, no credentialing required. They wouldn't need special training to teach English Language Learners or classroom management techniques to keep order. They wouldn't need to be trained in different teaching strategies to meet the needs of diverse learners. It must be easy to teach. After all, every person in charge of educational policy went to school, so they know what it's like.
I hate to burst their bubble but that's like saying because I drive a car, I am qualified to drive in the Indy 500. Or maybe that I'm qualified to pilot a plane because I know how to fly in one. Or hey, I've watched surgery on TV and had one or two so I think I'll be a surgeon. I know how to ski so I think I'll join the Olympic ski team. Maybe anyone who's taken a drug is qualified to work for the FDA and decide which drugs should be approved. Does any of this make sense? Not to me.
But still, our representatives and government appointees make educational policy decisions that affect millions of children and teachers without having any educational background aside from having been a child in school once and looking at some test scores. This doesn't work very well. In Los Angeles the mayor's schools and the charter schools did worse overall on the standardized tests administered last spring than did LAUSD's regular schools proving that a politician and some businesses do not know much about educating children.
Finally, if I may be so bold, many of the countries with whom we are compared are culturally and linguistically homogenous. So of course they look better than we who educate an incredibly diverse population do. In my first year of teaching 7 languages were represented in my classroom and I was the only one in the room who spoke English. Not only that but it was a combination kindergarten/first grade. Combination classes are unheard of in many states. I would say that we here in California at least, do a damn good job of educating all of our children regardless of language, culture, or socio-economic status and with a shocking lack of materials and funding.
There! I feel better now! No more dead teacher dreams I hope.
I am continually amazed, although I don't know why after all these years, that every podunk Representative and Senator and gubernatorial appointee thinks they have the "answer" to the education "crisis" in this country. I wonder if there really is a crisis or if it's a political creation. Students from all over the world flock to this country to attend our universities. These same universities admit students from our own "terrible" public schools and go on to graduate with advanced degrees. In fact there are more qualified students than spaces available here in California.
The problem is that everyone who WENT to school thinks they know how to educate children. If that were the case then no one would need a teaching credential. Students could just step seamlessly from the college classroom to their own classroom, no credentialing required. They wouldn't need special training to teach English Language Learners or classroom management techniques to keep order. They wouldn't need to be trained in different teaching strategies to meet the needs of diverse learners. It must be easy to teach. After all, every person in charge of educational policy went to school, so they know what it's like.
I hate to burst their bubble but that's like saying because I drive a car, I am qualified to drive in the Indy 500. Or maybe that I'm qualified to pilot a plane because I know how to fly in one. Or hey, I've watched surgery on TV and had one or two so I think I'll be a surgeon. I know how to ski so I think I'll join the Olympic ski team. Maybe anyone who's taken a drug is qualified to work for the FDA and decide which drugs should be approved. Does any of this make sense? Not to me.
But still, our representatives and government appointees make educational policy decisions that affect millions of children and teachers without having any educational background aside from having been a child in school once and looking at some test scores. This doesn't work very well. In Los Angeles the mayor's schools and the charter schools did worse overall on the standardized tests administered last spring than did LAUSD's regular schools proving that a politician and some businesses do not know much about educating children.
Finally, if I may be so bold, many of the countries with whom we are compared are culturally and linguistically homogenous. So of course they look better than we who educate an incredibly diverse population do. In my first year of teaching 7 languages were represented in my classroom and I was the only one in the room who spoke English. Not only that but it was a combination kindergarten/first grade. Combination classes are unheard of in many states. I would say that we here in California at least, do a damn good job of educating all of our children regardless of language, culture, or socio-economic status and with a shocking lack of materials and funding.
There! I feel better now! No more dead teacher dreams I hope.
Thursday, August 18, 2011
Wanted: Construction Guys
I have done a lot of remodeling and updating of houses since I bought my first one in 1981. That beauty was only 19 feet wide inside and had all the space upstairs in the 4 bedrooms. We updated the kitchen and built a deck. The kitchen wasn't the greatest job but we were learning. Our next house was built in 1956. It was solid, with plaster walls and hardwood floors. In 1959 someone cut a hallway through a bedroom to create a den so the kids' bedrooms were especially small. In that house we updated the kitchen, completely remodeled a bathroom and pushed out the back of the house 7 feet. That's a lot in 6 years. Most of the work we did ourselves or hired subcontractors to do things like drywall and electrical.
Now we are getting ready to remodel the third and last bathroom in our current house. We hired "guys" to do the previous two bathrooms and they are really beautiful. Simple, clean, and relaxing. Those "guys" are no longer available so I have to find new guys.
In my first two houses my plumber, tile guy, demo expert, and painter lived on site so he was very reliable. Always arrived when he said he would, did a great job, and kept the place clean. All I had to do was take care of the kids, feed him lunch, and help out with jobs requiring no great skill. Things like painting base boards and calling out, "Yes, the lights are out" so he wouldn't get electrocuted. Now my "guy" isn't interested in doing plumbing and such so I have to look around for others. In the past finding guys has been difficult. You call and call and they never call you back. Then once they've deigned to take the job, they start and stop and start and stop until you just want to fire them and call someone else. Of course "someone else" won't be any better, so you just smile through your gritted your teeth and try to be friendly so they will finish and GET OUT!
New experience this time around. I called three tile setters and all three called me back the SAME DAY! I can't believe it. In four days I've gotten 3 tile estimates and am expecting a plumbing estimate by email any time! Wow! One day a tile setter and a plumber were here at the same time to give me estimates. They knew each other so it was a veritable party.
It's the economy of course, but I love being an actual customer someone is eager to please. I feel like I'm in charge for a change. Usually I feel like I'm an annoyance and the contractors are in charge. My job interrupts their lives and is not too important. Someone else's job always takes precedence.
I don't know if this great attitude will continue once we give one of them job, but I'm hopeful. I am sorry that the economy is lousy, but I'm lovin' my little piece of remodel heaven.
Now we are getting ready to remodel the third and last bathroom in our current house. We hired "guys" to do the previous two bathrooms and they are really beautiful. Simple, clean, and relaxing. Those "guys" are no longer available so I have to find new guys.
In my first two houses my plumber, tile guy, demo expert, and painter lived on site so he was very reliable. Always arrived when he said he would, did a great job, and kept the place clean. All I had to do was take care of the kids, feed him lunch, and help out with jobs requiring no great skill. Things like painting base boards and calling out, "Yes, the lights are out" so he wouldn't get electrocuted. Now my "guy" isn't interested in doing plumbing and such so I have to look around for others. In the past finding guys has been difficult. You call and call and they never call you back. Then once they've deigned to take the job, they start and stop and start and stop until you just want to fire them and call someone else. Of course "someone else" won't be any better, so you just smile through your gritted your teeth and try to be friendly so they will finish and GET OUT!
New experience this time around. I called three tile setters and all three called me back the SAME DAY! I can't believe it. In four days I've gotten 3 tile estimates and am expecting a plumbing estimate by email any time! Wow! One day a tile setter and a plumber were here at the same time to give me estimates. They knew each other so it was a veritable party.
It's the economy of course, but I love being an actual customer someone is eager to please. I feel like I'm in charge for a change. Usually I feel like I'm an annoyance and the contractors are in charge. My job interrupts their lives and is not too important. Someone else's job always takes precedence.
I don't know if this great attitude will continue once we give one of them job, but I'm hopeful. I am sorry that the economy is lousy, but I'm lovin' my little piece of remodel heaven.
Monday, August 15, 2011
Friend: A person whom one knows and with whom one has a bond of mutual affection. Not a relative.
That seems like a fairly simple definition of a friend. Friendship is the state of being friends or having a bond of mutual affection with another person. As children our friendships develop from proximity. Mostly we make friends with kids at school or in our neighborhood. As long as the other kid shares and doesn't beat on us we pretty much like everyone. Then comes middle school, hell on earth for most kids. We have to be careful who we're friends with or other cooler kids won't be friends with us. Rumors and gossip can leave us friendless and sitting alone at the lunch table. A seemingly endless social death. It's a special hell reserved for 12 and 13 year olds.
High school is only a little better. It's possible to find a group to hang with and spend all of high school with the same kids. It's great if you're an athlete, musician, or super student because your group is ready made. You are simply friends with all the other runners or band geeks or math geniuses. It's tougher if you haven't got any extra-curricular activities but usually you're still able to find at least a couple of friends with whom to connect.
I personally longed for the day when I would be an adult and having friends would no longer depend on what I wore or how I looked. At least that was the way I looked at it at 17 when I had few friends and was definitely not part of the cool crowd. It proved to be true. Beginning in college my friendships have been based on mutual interests, common experiences, and similar values. In adulthood there are no "cool kids". And if there are, I don't care. Now I'm more concerned with who I like rather than who likes me. I think that's a much better place to be.
Still, adult friendships can run into hazards. Some take a dive into rough water due to changing circumstances and end with acrimony on one or both sides. Some ebb and flow depending on life events like new jobs, moves, and children. But all friendships need to be nurtured. Failing to stay in touch, depending on the other person to make all the overtures, or harboring feelings of envy or jealousy can end a perfectly good friendship. But still, why should we care if friends fall by the wayside? Just make new ones, right?
We care because it's wonderful to have long time friends with whom you have shared vacations, child rearing and celebrations. You have a shared history almost like family. You laugh together about the dumb things you or your kids do. They won't pass judgment on either you, your kid or your parenting skills. After all, you've been in some of life's trenches together. You remember times spent together and congratulate and encourage each other as you face new challenges. So when long time friendships begin to crumble it leaves a gap not only in your social life but in your emotional life as well.
When friends you've had for ages start to pull away, the gap takes time to fill. It also takes some planning if your social calendar isn't already packed. Where can I meet new people? Join a group? Take a class? Stand on the corner with a sign that reads: Will work for friends? It's a very real problem.
All studies show that people with a stable social network live longer healthier lives. That I believe. What would I do without my friend that calls and forces me out the door to exercise especially when I don't want to go? Or my other friend with whom I have Skype dates so we can talk about the next phase of our lives and tell each other how great we are? I can't forget my young friend and colleague who treats me as if I were also young and hip and lets me share in the joys of having a 2 year old. There are other friends we see infrequently due to distance, but we always pick up where we left off sharing vacation stories, political views and of course news about our offspring. I have a brave and dear friend who tells me she loves me when she calls and makes my day brilliant and special.
So my unsolicited advice, which as one friend told me "is as good as what you paid for it", is, appreciate your friends, you'll be healthier, happier and live longer. And who doesn't want that?
High school is only a little better. It's possible to find a group to hang with and spend all of high school with the same kids. It's great if you're an athlete, musician, or super student because your group is ready made. You are simply friends with all the other runners or band geeks or math geniuses. It's tougher if you haven't got any extra-curricular activities but usually you're still able to find at least a couple of friends with whom to connect.
I personally longed for the day when I would be an adult and having friends would no longer depend on what I wore or how I looked. At least that was the way I looked at it at 17 when I had few friends and was definitely not part of the cool crowd. It proved to be true. Beginning in college my friendships have been based on mutual interests, common experiences, and similar values. In adulthood there are no "cool kids". And if there are, I don't care. Now I'm more concerned with who I like rather than who likes me. I think that's a much better place to be.
Still, adult friendships can run into hazards. Some take a dive into rough water due to changing circumstances and end with acrimony on one or both sides. Some ebb and flow depending on life events like new jobs, moves, and children. But all friendships need to be nurtured. Failing to stay in touch, depending on the other person to make all the overtures, or harboring feelings of envy or jealousy can end a perfectly good friendship. But still, why should we care if friends fall by the wayside? Just make new ones, right?
We care because it's wonderful to have long time friends with whom you have shared vacations, child rearing and celebrations. You have a shared history almost like family. You laugh together about the dumb things you or your kids do. They won't pass judgment on either you, your kid or your parenting skills. After all, you've been in some of life's trenches together. You remember times spent together and congratulate and encourage each other as you face new challenges. So when long time friendships begin to crumble it leaves a gap not only in your social life but in your emotional life as well.
When friends you've had for ages start to pull away, the gap takes time to fill. It also takes some planning if your social calendar isn't already packed. Where can I meet new people? Join a group? Take a class? Stand on the corner with a sign that reads: Will work for friends? It's a very real problem.
All studies show that people with a stable social network live longer healthier lives. That I believe. What would I do without my friend that calls and forces me out the door to exercise especially when I don't want to go? Or my other friend with whom I have Skype dates so we can talk about the next phase of our lives and tell each other how great we are? I can't forget my young friend and colleague who treats me as if I were also young and hip and lets me share in the joys of having a 2 year old. There are other friends we see infrequently due to distance, but we always pick up where we left off sharing vacation stories, political views and of course news about our offspring. I have a brave and dear friend who tells me she loves me when she calls and makes my day brilliant and special.
So my unsolicited advice, which as one friend told me "is as good as what you paid for it", is, appreciate your friends, you'll be healthier, happier and live longer. And who doesn't want that?
Tuesday, August 9, 2011
Prey for Dogs
The gardener is here today putting in some plants. It's quite a production with hoses and mowers and shovels and blowers. Quite a few guys working in the backyard too. Busy and noisy. This is not a good day for the Big Dog or the LWD. They hate the gardeners with their loud machines. And, they aren't at all tolerant of strange people walking around and leaving unusual smells in THEIR backyard. They're territorial beasts and they like it that way.
Today the Big Dog is especially keen to have them for lunch, although the LWD would love a chunk of their ankles as an appetizer. When the gardeners arrived I was out in back trying to play ball with the Big Dog. He'd completely soaked the tennis ball with slobber so I was trying to wipe it off. The gate started to open and he went into attack mode. This is actually rather interesting to watch. He barks loudly and deeply, gets wide and low on his haunches and prepares to launch himself at his prey. And, he's fast. One minute I was wiping the ball and the next second he was at the gate in full attack mode.
This behavior provoked the LWD into a frenzy of barking so both dogs were making a huge racket. I contributed to the madness yelling, "Duke, Duke, No! Get over here!" Did he pay attention to me? Did either of them pay attention to me? No, they have gone deaf. The sound and smell of prey has activated their primal, reptilian brains and they're killers now. Bloodlust has overcome them. Until....I grab the Big Dog's shock collar and pull hard while he barks, a shock for him! But we haven't gone too far before he pulls away, 'cause he is 90 pounds of solid muscle. I have to go after him again to drag him slobbering into the house. Ok he's in. Now for the little terrorist. There's no grabbing him he's too small and too fast but he's also a first class coward and finally heads for the slider. I scoot him in and go back to give the O.K. to the gardeners to come into the yard.
I return breathless to the house where the dogs are running around the family room barking and slobbering. The Big Dog goes to his bed after only a few commands and sits alertly waiting for any breach in security. The LWD is not well trained and won't sit down and be still. All is well until the mower starts up. Up springs the Big Dog, lunging at the glass and barking like Cujo on a really bad day. Of course the LWD follows suit 'cause he just loves a good barkfest. Again, I yell at the Big Dog to go to "bed". Eventually I have to get up and grab his collar and make him go to his bed. This same insanity happens four or five times before the guys finish. I can't figure out who's getting the best of whom in this situation. Gardeners, I think.
Thank god the guys are gone now. My carpet is spotted with wet slobber and I'm a wreck. The Boy will tell me I should have put the Big Dog in the garage but I couldn't get him in there and the LWD knows when he's being locked in the garage and runs away, hiding in the furthest corner of his kennel. No way am I going to get down on the concrete and crawl in the kennel to get the little monster out.
Good news is the yard looks great and it took them 30 minutes to do a job we'd be doing for days. But now I need a glass of wine, a hammock, and a day at the spa. Whew!
P.S. Any errors are mine and I'm sure I'll find them right after I post this.
Today the Big Dog is especially keen to have them for lunch, although the LWD would love a chunk of their ankles as an appetizer. When the gardeners arrived I was out in back trying to play ball with the Big Dog. He'd completely soaked the tennis ball with slobber so I was trying to wipe it off. The gate started to open and he went into attack mode. This is actually rather interesting to watch. He barks loudly and deeply, gets wide and low on his haunches and prepares to launch himself at his prey. And, he's fast. One minute I was wiping the ball and the next second he was at the gate in full attack mode.
This behavior provoked the LWD into a frenzy of barking so both dogs were making a huge racket. I contributed to the madness yelling, "Duke, Duke, No! Get over here!" Did he pay attention to me? Did either of them pay attention to me? No, they have gone deaf. The sound and smell of prey has activated their primal, reptilian brains and they're killers now. Bloodlust has overcome them. Until....I grab the Big Dog's shock collar and pull hard while he barks, a shock for him! But we haven't gone too far before he pulls away, 'cause he is 90 pounds of solid muscle. I have to go after him again to drag him slobbering into the house. Ok he's in. Now for the little terrorist. There's no grabbing him he's too small and too fast but he's also a first class coward and finally heads for the slider. I scoot him in and go back to give the O.K. to the gardeners to come into the yard.
I return breathless to the house where the dogs are running around the family room barking and slobbering. The Big Dog goes to his bed after only a few commands and sits alertly waiting for any breach in security. The LWD is not well trained and won't sit down and be still. All is well until the mower starts up. Up springs the Big Dog, lunging at the glass and barking like Cujo on a really bad day. Of course the LWD follows suit 'cause he just loves a good barkfest. Again, I yell at the Big Dog to go to "bed". Eventually I have to get up and grab his collar and make him go to his bed. This same insanity happens four or five times before the guys finish. I can't figure out who's getting the best of whom in this situation. Gardeners, I think.
Thank god the guys are gone now. My carpet is spotted with wet slobber and I'm a wreck. The Boy will tell me I should have put the Big Dog in the garage but I couldn't get him in there and the LWD knows when he's being locked in the garage and runs away, hiding in the furthest corner of his kennel. No way am I going to get down on the concrete and crawl in the kennel to get the little monster out.
Good news is the yard looks great and it took them 30 minutes to do a job we'd be doing for days. But now I need a glass of wine, a hammock, and a day at the spa. Whew!
P.S. Any errors are mine and I'm sure I'll find them right after I post this.
Saturday, August 6, 2011
The Big Dog
Sometimes I need a dog sitter and sometimes I am one. I'd rather need one than be one. If I need one that means I'm going on a trip. However, if I have to be one that means I'm staying home and dealing with two dogs instead of one. Now the dog owner I sit for will probably have some feelings about this post but I hope his owner, aka The Boy will take it in the spirit it which it was written.
We only sit for one dog, alias, The Big Dog. This is a great dog, very sweet, and good-looking. He's about 90 pounds of solid muscle, very lean. He's a short-haired brown and black brindle with a big white spot on his chest. His ears are floppy and soft and his nose is big and black and wet. The Big Dog has a tail that clears tables and makes my little white dog (LWD) squint trying to avoid getting smacked in the eyes with it.
The Boy's dog is a hound. Everyone has seen bloodhounds and The Big Dog doesn't look at all like that. But, and on this be very clear, he has some jowls goin' on. As you might guess those jowls come with some dog saliva. Now this is some serious slobber. When he shakes his head he can wrap it around his snout one, two, even three times. Other times it hangs almost to the ground without breaking. We've found it everywhere in the house, even on the ceiling. There must be a use for such viscous stuff. I just don't know what it might be.
The Big Dog has some very special qualities. Although he'll leap into a tree and grab a possum or confront three hissing raccoons, he's really a delicate flower requiring special food and cushy pads upon which to rest his bony butt. Concrete is not for him. Softies that we are, we have a big bed in the yard so he can sleep in the sun during the day. He doesn't like to be cold or hot. We have another dog bed in the garage so he can sleep in comfort and not chase after wildlife all night. Usually, we drag the garage bed into the house and place it on a clean sheet so he can be in the house in the evenings. It's not as convenient as it sounds. These are not small dog beds. This dog and his bed take up a large corner of my family room. We make him stay on the bed in the house because frankly we don't like the feel of slobber on our bare feet and without a recent bath he's oily. All of this for a dog who doesn't live here. Well, not most of the time anyway.
He's here now sleeping peacefully on a brand new cedar scented bed in the family room. We finally broke down and went to Costco and got him a new bed for use only in the house so we don't have to drag the garage bed in and out. We just need a storage unit to stash the bed in when The Big Dog isn't here.
Problem number two: this time The Boy brought him without bathing him first. This is one stinky dog. He reeks, no joke. All that slobber flying around landing everywhere, it stinks. But really? No bath? He dropped off him smelly and oily? Yep, he did.
Since The Big Dog will be here for a few days while the The Boy is backpacking I was forced to either wash him or put him on Craig's List. Wanting to continue living, my next instinct was to take him to the self car wash and really clean him up, but then I'd have to load him into my car. I... don't.... think.... so. Second choice: I tied him to a railing in the back yard and turned on the hose. Like most dogs, his hair repels water so it takes some doing to wet him down especially while he tries to shake it off. Then there's the shampooing. He had to have his nose and ears washed of slobber and those aren't areas he enjoys having hosed down. But I was determined to be the winner in this battle even if I got as wet as he did. Victory was mine of course. I soaped up The Big Dog twice, rubbed him down with clean towels and he now looks and smells as good as any hound ever did.
For the next three or four days we'll be wiping his mouth before he comes in the house, giving him his thyroid medicine twice a day and listening to him snore over the noise of the TV. And after his bath
today we won't even have to hold our noses.
We only sit for one dog, alias, The Big Dog. This is a great dog, very sweet, and good-looking. He's about 90 pounds of solid muscle, very lean. He's a short-haired brown and black brindle with a big white spot on his chest. His ears are floppy and soft and his nose is big and black and wet. The Big Dog has a tail that clears tables and makes my little white dog (LWD) squint trying to avoid getting smacked in the eyes with it.
The Boy's dog is a hound. Everyone has seen bloodhounds and The Big Dog doesn't look at all like that. But, and on this be very clear, he has some jowls goin' on. As you might guess those jowls come with some dog saliva. Now this is some serious slobber. When he shakes his head he can wrap it around his snout one, two, even three times. Other times it hangs almost to the ground without breaking. We've found it everywhere in the house, even on the ceiling. There must be a use for such viscous stuff. I just don't know what it might be.
The Big Dog has some very special qualities. Although he'll leap into a tree and grab a possum or confront three hissing raccoons, he's really a delicate flower requiring special food and cushy pads upon which to rest his bony butt. Concrete is not for him. Softies that we are, we have a big bed in the yard so he can sleep in the sun during the day. He doesn't like to be cold or hot. We have another dog bed in the garage so he can sleep in comfort and not chase after wildlife all night. Usually, we drag the garage bed into the house and place it on a clean sheet so he can be in the house in the evenings. It's not as convenient as it sounds. These are not small dog beds. This dog and his bed take up a large corner of my family room. We make him stay on the bed in the house because frankly we don't like the feel of slobber on our bare feet and without a recent bath he's oily. All of this for a dog who doesn't live here. Well, not most of the time anyway.
He's here now sleeping peacefully on a brand new cedar scented bed in the family room. We finally broke down and went to Costco and got him a new bed for use only in the house so we don't have to drag the garage bed in and out. We just need a storage unit to stash the bed in when The Big Dog isn't here.
Problem number two: this time The Boy brought him without bathing him first. This is one stinky dog. He reeks, no joke. All that slobber flying around landing everywhere, it stinks. But really? No bath? He dropped off him smelly and oily? Yep, he did.
Since The Big Dog will be here for a few days while the The Boy is backpacking I was forced to either wash him or put him on Craig's List. Wanting to continue living, my next instinct was to take him to the self car wash and really clean him up, but then I'd have to load him into my car. I... don't.... think.... so. Second choice: I tied him to a railing in the back yard and turned on the hose. Like most dogs, his hair repels water so it takes some doing to wet him down especially while he tries to shake it off. Then there's the shampooing. He had to have his nose and ears washed of slobber and those aren't areas he enjoys having hosed down. But I was determined to be the winner in this battle even if I got as wet as he did. Victory was mine of course. I soaped up The Big Dog twice, rubbed him down with clean towels and he now looks and smells as good as any hound ever did.
For the next three or four days we'll be wiping his mouth before he comes in the house, giving him his thyroid medicine twice a day and listening to him snore over the noise of the TV. And after his bath
today we won't even have to hold our noses.
 |
| Dog with Bed |
 |
| The Big Dog and the LWD |
Wednesday, August 3, 2011
Austria: Victim or Perpetrator
World War II is never far from your mind as you travel through Germany and Austria. Switzerland just keeps its mouth shut about the war, after all they were neutral, or so they say. On our trip we began our orientation in each city with a walking tour led by an experienced guide. The guide pointed out significant architecture and historical places while giving a brief history of the area. One thing became very clear. Many buildings of historical value have been restored or rebuilt after suffering damage during the war. Either incendiary or explosive bombs were responsible for the damage. Most of the guides offered no opinion about the bombing but mentioned it as a fact explaining the condition and age of the buildings today.
However, in Salzburg, Austria our guide used the word "sadly" to describe the destruction of parts of the city. She went on to explain that the bombs sometimes (probably frequently) missed their targets and landed on civilian structures. Frankly, I was more than a little angered by her attitude. Austria was a participating member of the Axis powers. As we learned during our trip to the Mauthausen camp there were more than 43 concentration camps in Austria during the war! The bombing of Austria was a natural consequence of their cooperation with the Nazis.
Our Viennese guide Wolfgang tried to explain the differences between German and Austrian attitudes about the war. Germany long ago accepted its responsibility for the atrocities committed by its leaders and citizens. For the most part the national "psyche", if you will, does not wrap itself in the cloak of a victim but acknowledges itself as the perpetrator. Not so, Austria.
Austria still sees itself as a victim despite the fact that in March 1938 they were absorbed into Hitler's Third Reich after a plebiscite in which 99% voted in favor of joining Germany. Hitler was greeted in Vienna with delirious applause. Tellingly, Austrians were over-represented in the Gestapo and terror organizations generally. Still, despite its plethora of concentration camps and participation in Nazi terror campaigns, Austria continues to see itself as a victim of the war rather than a willing and even zealous participant.
Forgive me if I don't feel sad about the bombings Austrians suffered. As the guide spoke I couldn't help but think that yes war is terrible, but as an important part of the terror campaigns of the Third Reich, Austria richly deserved their share of the bombings. It is sad that bombs missed their military targets and hit civilians but let's not forget the carpet bombing of London which was a deliberate attempt to obliterate an entire city.
It's long past time for Austria, as a nation, to "man up" and accept its responsibility for the atrocities committed within its borders.
However, in Salzburg, Austria our guide used the word "sadly" to describe the destruction of parts of the city. She went on to explain that the bombs sometimes (probably frequently) missed their targets and landed on civilian structures. Frankly, I was more than a little angered by her attitude. Austria was a participating member of the Axis powers. As we learned during our trip to the Mauthausen camp there were more than 43 concentration camps in Austria during the war! The bombing of Austria was a natural consequence of their cooperation with the Nazis.
Our Viennese guide Wolfgang tried to explain the differences between German and Austrian attitudes about the war. Germany long ago accepted its responsibility for the atrocities committed by its leaders and citizens. For the most part the national "psyche", if you will, does not wrap itself in the cloak of a victim but acknowledges itself as the perpetrator. Not so, Austria.
Austria still sees itself as a victim despite the fact that in March 1938 they were absorbed into Hitler's Third Reich after a plebiscite in which 99% voted in favor of joining Germany. Hitler was greeted in Vienna with delirious applause. Tellingly, Austrians were over-represented in the Gestapo and terror organizations generally. Still, despite its plethora of concentration camps and participation in Nazi terror campaigns, Austria continues to see itself as a victim of the war rather than a willing and even zealous participant.
Forgive me if I don't feel sad about the bombings Austrians suffered. As the guide spoke I couldn't help but think that yes war is terrible, but as an important part of the terror campaigns of the Third Reich, Austria richly deserved their share of the bombings. It is sad that bombs missed their military targets and hit civilians but let's not forget the carpet bombing of London which was a deliberate attempt to obliterate an entire city.
It's long past time for Austria, as a nation, to "man up" and accept its responsibility for the atrocities committed within its borders.
Tuesday, August 2, 2011
All Things Mozart
Traveling in Austria, one of the first things you notice is the Austrian love affair with Wolfgang Mozart. He is their creation, their favorite son, their mascot if you will. While we were in Salzburg, the city was busy preparing for the yearly Mozart Festival. A giant stage was set up along with bleachers and seats for the outdoor concerts. I was glad to miss the festival since the city was already jammed with more tourists than I cared for.
Interestingly, although Mozart was born in Salzburg, he received little support from its residents when he was alive. He lived most of his life in Vienna where he was appreciated and found work. Nonetheless, the city of Salzburg takes credit for him today and celebrates his work with a festival every year. In the spirit of today one can buy all things Mozart. There are Mozart chocolates for sale nearly everywhere. I bought a Mozart umbrella one day as it started to rain and I was without one. Unfortunately it broke the next day. Eight euros down the tube. Mozart scarves, plates, busts, you name it you can buy it with a Mozart motif.
We learned a lot about Mozart's life and death while in Austria. The seminal American movie "Amadeus" was dramatic but factually incorrect in several ways. One of the most interesting things the movie got wrong about him was his death. He did not die a pauper as the movie asserts. In the time of Mozart, as now, space was at a premium and most people were buried in a grave containing more than one person. In fact a coffin was invented that hinged and opened at the bottom. A cart with the coffin was driven over the open grave and the bottom opened to release the body into the ground. It was a common practice and did not indicate the deceased was poor. Later, some remains from what was purported to be Mozart's grave were moved and buried elsewhere to memorialize him. Were they his? Probably not.
Despite all the Mozart kitsch available in Salzburg there is a wonderful "show" that recreates Mozart's music and time. In a restaurant dating back to 803 A.D. you can dine on recipes from the period and listen to pieces from his operas by candlelight. Yes, 803. There is documentation that the emperor Constantine ate at this site in 803. Today the restaurant has a large room decorated with large candelabras, period wallpaper, a large overhead dome, and dining tables draped with white linens. Once the guests are seated, the electric lights dim so only candles light the room and the musicians, in period costume, begin to play. Appearing from the back, two singers, a soprano and a tenor, also in period dress begin to sing and come forward to join the musicians. Between meal courses the singers perform snippets from 3 or 4 of Mozart's operas. With the room lit only by candlelight and filled with music and song you are transported from modern Salzburg to another place and time. Here, the genius of Mozart comes alive at last.
Interestingly, although Mozart was born in Salzburg, he received little support from its residents when he was alive. He lived most of his life in Vienna where he was appreciated and found work. Nonetheless, the city of Salzburg takes credit for him today and celebrates his work with a festival every year. In the spirit of today one can buy all things Mozart. There are Mozart chocolates for sale nearly everywhere. I bought a Mozart umbrella one day as it started to rain and I was without one. Unfortunately it broke the next day. Eight euros down the tube. Mozart scarves, plates, busts, you name it you can buy it with a Mozart motif.
We learned a lot about Mozart's life and death while in Austria. The seminal American movie "Amadeus" was dramatic but factually incorrect in several ways. One of the most interesting things the movie got wrong about him was his death. He did not die a pauper as the movie asserts. In the time of Mozart, as now, space was at a premium and most people were buried in a grave containing more than one person. In fact a coffin was invented that hinged and opened at the bottom. A cart with the coffin was driven over the open grave and the bottom opened to release the body into the ground. It was a common practice and did not indicate the deceased was poor. Later, some remains from what was purported to be Mozart's grave were moved and buried elsewhere to memorialize him. Were they his? Probably not.
Despite all the Mozart kitsch available in Salzburg there is a wonderful "show" that recreates Mozart's music and time. In a restaurant dating back to 803 A.D. you can dine on recipes from the period and listen to pieces from his operas by candlelight. Yes, 803. There is documentation that the emperor Constantine ate at this site in 803. Today the restaurant has a large room decorated with large candelabras, period wallpaper, a large overhead dome, and dining tables draped with white linens. Once the guests are seated, the electric lights dim so only candles light the room and the musicians, in period costume, begin to play. Appearing from the back, two singers, a soprano and a tenor, also in period dress begin to sing and come forward to join the musicians. Between meal courses the singers perform snippets from 3 or 4 of Mozart's operas. With the room lit only by candlelight and filled with music and song you are transported from modern Salzburg to another place and time. Here, the genius of Mozart comes alive at last.
Monday, August 1, 2011
Poking Along the Freeway
Picture this: you're driving down the freeway, there's no traffic, all the other cars are moving along at a good speed. You find yourself getting closer and closer to the car ahead of you and finally having to slow down to avoid running over it. This driver apparently is out for a Sunday drive on a country lane. His or her driver's side window is open, an elbow resting on the open door frame. The driver's hair is blowing in the wind and apparently he or she never looks in their rear view mirror or he/she would notice the cars backing up behind him/her. Several cars move out of that lane and speed around the pokey driver. You can't move yet because everyone behind you pulls out first. Apparently Pokey also has blinders on and doesn't see cars speeding by on the right and left. So you have to sit there poking along until a break in the traffic at which point you swerve out, put the pedal to the metal and burn rubber passing the obnoxious driver. You look over to see what kind of fool is behind the wheel but only get a look at the profile of the squinting driver.
Why do drivers act this way? Are they just inconsiderate? Are they oblivious to the world around them and therefore shouldn't be on the road? Maybe they're just plain stupid as the men in my family would contend.
Consider this: these drivers decide for some odd reason to drive with their window down and driving with an open window makes it SEEM like you're going really fast. You're not. All that wind blowing past your ears makes you feel like a real speed demon. But in point of fact going 40 mph feels fast with the window down. Moreover, the noise and wind are apparently so distracting that these drivers fail to look in their mirrors or check their speedometers. They are certain that they are going even faster than the speed limit and since they can't hear other cars passing them they never speed up.
Which brings us to the question of why drive around with open windows? Some may not have air conditioning which is a perfectly rational reason for rolling down your windows. I've got no problem with that except the driver still needs to check the speedometer. However, some drivers are convinced, erroneously, that using the air conditioning reduces your gas mileage. No, the extra drag caused by the open window reduces your mpg. And there are some I imagine who just like the fresh air. Really, how fresh is the air blowing into your car on the freeway? I guess these people just like to suck up exhaust fumes as they drive.
The conclusion I draw here is that aside from cars with broken AC, I'm going with the men in my family: drivers who drive with the windows down on the freeway are just plain stupid because the other reasons for open windows are just ridiculous.
Next time you're stuck behind a slow poke on the freeway check to see if the windows are down. Then pass that car ASAP. He's not going to speed up, he already thinks he drives like the wind.
Why do drivers act this way? Are they just inconsiderate? Are they oblivious to the world around them and therefore shouldn't be on the road? Maybe they're just plain stupid as the men in my family would contend.
Consider this: these drivers decide for some odd reason to drive with their window down and driving with an open window makes it SEEM like you're going really fast. You're not. All that wind blowing past your ears makes you feel like a real speed demon. But in point of fact going 40 mph feels fast with the window down. Moreover, the noise and wind are apparently so distracting that these drivers fail to look in their mirrors or check their speedometers. They are certain that they are going even faster than the speed limit and since they can't hear other cars passing them they never speed up.
Which brings us to the question of why drive around with open windows? Some may not have air conditioning which is a perfectly rational reason for rolling down your windows. I've got no problem with that except the driver still needs to check the speedometer. However, some drivers are convinced, erroneously, that using the air conditioning reduces your gas mileage. No, the extra drag caused by the open window reduces your mpg. And there are some I imagine who just like the fresh air. Really, how fresh is the air blowing into your car on the freeway? I guess these people just like to suck up exhaust fumes as they drive.
The conclusion I draw here is that aside from cars with broken AC, I'm going with the men in my family: drivers who drive with the windows down on the freeway are just plain stupid because the other reasons for open windows are just ridiculous.
Next time you're stuck behind a slow poke on the freeway check to see if the windows are down. Then pass that car ASAP. He's not going to speed up, he already thinks he drives like the wind.
Billboards and Muzak
Pollution. Everyone agrees it's a bad thing. No one wants dirty air or foul water. But there are other kinds of "pollution" that we endure or even welcome. Well, some of us welcome it. The pollution I'm referring to is visual and noise pollution. Those unwelcome sights and sounds that intrude on the enjoyment of public spaces. After traveling to other countries it is glaringly evident that here in Southern California that kind of "pollution" is everywhere.
Last night I was at a restaurant having dinner. The restaurant is located on a corner and we were eating on the enclosed patio so the noise from Pacific Coast Highway was audible especially when a motorcycle or sports car whizzed by. In addition to the street noise, the restaurant piped in music. You can see where I'm going with this can't you? Everyone on the patio had to raise their voices to be heard including us so as the patio filled with patrons the noise level rose. Despite the wine and good food, our meal was not relaxing and we were glad to be out in the relative quiet of the parking lot.
At the many restaurants we ate in while in Europe, only once did we notice overly loud music that inhibited our ability to make conversation and that was in a sports bar. In Europe eating is a social event and management does not encourage you to scarf down your food and run for the door. It's a cultural phenomenon that prizes a relaxed social atmosphere. Loud intrusive music does not contribute to relaxation or conversation but it does make you eat faster and leave sooner. No wonder there are so many ads for indigestion medications!
Here, our shopping malls, whether inside or outside, have music playing everywhere. There is no escaping it. Speakers hidden in planters make every outdoor space a concert whether you like it or not. I'm not really clear on the concept. Is there scientific evidence that music makes people buy more? In stores as well, music prevails. So while shopping, there is a cacophony of noise with which you have to contend. Every store has it's own music and then there is a different tune playing outside. The volume of the music in stores seems to depend on the age of the employees. The younger they are, the louder it is. I know I sound like an old granny but the reality of it is that I have money 20 somethings don't have and I can't and won't shop in places where I can't think. What are retailers thinking? I don't want to be assaulted by music everywhere I go. There is enough noise in public without the music.
While traveling and shopping in Europe I never heard outdoor music except for the occasional street musician and retail stores were tuneless as well. Maybe they cater to customers rather than employees. Although I didn't shop in large malls, small stores didn't blare music. I enjoyed the relaxed atmosphere in the shops and streets and even the street sounds themselves. In old city centers it's imperative to be able to hear cars and bicycles lest one be mown down by one. It's also interesting to hear the variety of languages and accents being spoken around one and to be able to talk to one's companions.
Lastly, here in California, capitalism is king. The amount of money that goes into billboard advertisements must be in the billions. Billboards are everywhere. You can't see the city for the ads. The farther out of the city you get the fewer you see, but they are still there. Even driving into small desert towns that boast barely 1,000 people, the billboards start appearing about 10 miles out of town. Talk about a plague upon the land.
We drove for hours in the Black Forest of Germany, in the Swiss and Austrian Alps, and through farmland and vineyards. No billboards advertising cars, DUI attorneys, or films. No billboards at all. The landscape speaks for itself. This must be a conscious decision on the part of governments to improve the look of their countries because let's face it, billboards are ugly and intrusive.
While traveling in Europe I enjoyed having plenty of landscapes upon which to rest my eyes and quiet outdoor areas to walk and think and talk. Attitudes and values are the key differences. Here business rules our lives. Companies decide what our public spaces will look and sound like and companies exist to make profits not to improve quality of life. In Europe, the "big, bad" government steps in to regulate business and maintain quality of life. Here quality of life is defined by how much stuff we acquire and there it seems as if quality of life has a much broader definition including keeping the country free not only of trash but of noise and visual pollution as well.
Last night I was at a restaurant having dinner. The restaurant is located on a corner and we were eating on the enclosed patio so the noise from Pacific Coast Highway was audible especially when a motorcycle or sports car whizzed by. In addition to the street noise, the restaurant piped in music. You can see where I'm going with this can't you? Everyone on the patio had to raise their voices to be heard including us so as the patio filled with patrons the noise level rose. Despite the wine and good food, our meal was not relaxing and we were glad to be out in the relative quiet of the parking lot.
At the many restaurants we ate in while in Europe, only once did we notice overly loud music that inhibited our ability to make conversation and that was in a sports bar. In Europe eating is a social event and management does not encourage you to scarf down your food and run for the door. It's a cultural phenomenon that prizes a relaxed social atmosphere. Loud intrusive music does not contribute to relaxation or conversation but it does make you eat faster and leave sooner. No wonder there are so many ads for indigestion medications!
Here, our shopping malls, whether inside or outside, have music playing everywhere. There is no escaping it. Speakers hidden in planters make every outdoor space a concert whether you like it or not. I'm not really clear on the concept. Is there scientific evidence that music makes people buy more? In stores as well, music prevails. So while shopping, there is a cacophony of noise with which you have to contend. Every store has it's own music and then there is a different tune playing outside. The volume of the music in stores seems to depend on the age of the employees. The younger they are, the louder it is. I know I sound like an old granny but the reality of it is that I have money 20 somethings don't have and I can't and won't shop in places where I can't think. What are retailers thinking? I don't want to be assaulted by music everywhere I go. There is enough noise in public without the music.
While traveling and shopping in Europe I never heard outdoor music except for the occasional street musician and retail stores were tuneless as well. Maybe they cater to customers rather than employees. Although I didn't shop in large malls, small stores didn't blare music. I enjoyed the relaxed atmosphere in the shops and streets and even the street sounds themselves. In old city centers it's imperative to be able to hear cars and bicycles lest one be mown down by one. It's also interesting to hear the variety of languages and accents being spoken around one and to be able to talk to one's companions.
Lastly, here in California, capitalism is king. The amount of money that goes into billboard advertisements must be in the billions. Billboards are everywhere. You can't see the city for the ads. The farther out of the city you get the fewer you see, but they are still there. Even driving into small desert towns that boast barely 1,000 people, the billboards start appearing about 10 miles out of town. Talk about a plague upon the land.
We drove for hours in the Black Forest of Germany, in the Swiss and Austrian Alps, and through farmland and vineyards. No billboards advertising cars, DUI attorneys, or films. No billboards at all. The landscape speaks for itself. This must be a conscious decision on the part of governments to improve the look of their countries because let's face it, billboards are ugly and intrusive.
While traveling in Europe I enjoyed having plenty of landscapes upon which to rest my eyes and quiet outdoor areas to walk and think and talk. Attitudes and values are the key differences. Here business rules our lives. Companies decide what our public spaces will look and sound like and companies exist to make profits not to improve quality of life. In Europe, the "big, bad" government steps in to regulate business and maintain quality of life. Here quality of life is defined by how much stuff we acquire and there it seems as if quality of life has a much broader definition including keeping the country free not only of trash but of noise and visual pollution as well.
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