YES, I AM STILL HERE peeking out my window on Main Street, and I finally got tired of waiting to see the evening news about the violence done by the ‘No Kings’ protest people, Saturday.
Apparently there was none.
The only protest here was a bunch of geezers who were waving signs at the McDonald’s drive-thru. They were mad about no Apple Pies. Some of them say their insurance is going to be so high they can’t afford a doctor or hospital visit, so the only way to stay well is by eating an apple a day.
=—-= — =
I WROTE last week about a succession of dancing groups or individuals which continue to pop up on my Facebook. Pardon me if I digress on this topic one more time.
It started with a YouTube search for dancers as mentioned in ‘Ode On a Grecian Urn,’ a John Keats poem. I found the dancers and they were entertaining.
The very next day those same ladies showed up unbidden on Facebook. I promise they were not naughty dancers.
The dancers evolved each day. First, the Greek maidens were gone — replaced by Whirling Dervishes, men in long skirts who spin until they go into a religious trance.
I didn’t have anything to do with it, but next day I got dancers from a place called the Caucasus who glided around on tiptoes. Looked like they were floating.
Next day they were street dancers in Thailand. Then, children learning tribal dances in Africa.
Everybody dances to music or at least drums. The next dancers were wildly costumed American Indians stomping and spinning in time to thumping tom-toms and high-pitched chanting at a pow-wow.
The very next day I had lovely twirlers in parades in Central America; then Irish dancers with arms stiff at their sides.
Still, no one was naughty. I was fascinated by the cultures.
Especially the Hawai’i hula ladies wearing bands of flowers. Next were those scary Maori groups from New Zealand, but thank goodness they were around for a only day bulging their eyes and slapping their chests before they became wiggly ladies from Tahiti doing hubba-hubba dances.
These might have been borderline naughty. I might try to visit them again sometime.
Modesty returned with Inuit dancers from the North shuffling around in sealskin; then some Geishas from Japan.
This string of performances hasn’t yet gotten to what I predicted — boot-scooters and Western Swing music from a bar on the Oklahoma line, but I’m sure that will happen.
I promise I’ll try to remember what dancers show up next.
Oh, yeah, I’m REAL good at remembering promises as you’ll see. Just keep reading.
=—-= — =
ANIMAL CRACKERS. For the 42nd year in a row I failed to realize the precise date when ‘our’ Mississippi Kites left for warmer climes. Mea culpa, my fault.
I let you down. I had promised to inform you about their departure, and I only guessed that the reason they left was to avoid our winter. Maybe they re-located to the Arctic Circle on purpose. Or not.
But, I did find out a few things about the birds. They can ride thermal updrafts for loooooooong periods, and they eat wasps, cicadas and other insects, along with smaller birds. They are, naturally, in the Kite family — small raptors. They got the Mississippi part of their name because they were first recorded by some bird watcher in the Mississippi Territory which is most certainly NOWHERE NEAR the Arctic Circle. And I was surprised to learn that anyone in Mississippi could observe and write.
So, I still don’t know where the birds migrate to. All I know is that one day out of the clear blue each year I realize they are no longer circling my neighborhood and, dang it, I forgot to notify you.
I asked Mr. Google for more info.
One article said that they travel to breeding grounds in Central America and South America. But another article with a map showed that Howard County is pretty doggone close to the edge of their breeding grounds.
No matter. They still manage to sneak off to somewhere.
I hope we are all still around when they suddenly show up again in our skies sometime late next Spring.
I promise that I will be watching for their arrival. You can count on it.
=—-= — =
MORE THINGS I LEARNED from opening an email: “Why do psychics have to ask you for your name?”
=—-= — =
WORD GAMES. I love oxymorons: “One of John Robert’s fans sent some homemade brownies to the office, and he shared. The brownies were Awfully Good!”
=—-= — =
HE SAID: “Live as if you were to die tomorrow. Learn as if you were to live forever.” Mahatma Gandhi, statesman and peace advocate
=—-= — =
SHE SAID: “Whatever we believe about how we got to be the extraordinary creatures we are today is far less important than bringing our intellect to bear on how do we get together now around the world and get out of the mess that we’ve made. That’s the key thing now. Never mind how we got to be who we are.” Jane Goodall, British primatologist, ethologist, and anthropologist. RIP
=—-= — =
SWEET DREAMS, Baby
