The Dog/Cat Debate

I know that people feel strongly about their choice of pets. Me, I'm a dog person. It's not that I don't like cats, but they don't seem to like me. Growing up, my best friend had a Siamese named Rosebud. I was never anything but nice to that cat. But, every time she saw me, she would hiss like I was the undead:

So, I'm not a cat fan. I don't really dislike them though. I'm a sucker for the purring and all that, like anyone without cat allergies. Cuddle factor aside, I think it's pretty clear which animal is superior in the dog/cat debate.

My roommate, Dane, and I had this argument all the time. He thought that the cat's independence and cleanliness made it the perfect pet. He thought dogs were dumb -- primarily because they hung around with people, which Dane also thought were dumb.

And Dane was right. Dogs' have a weak point in that they are slaves to the affection of their humans (and vice-versa). But when it comes down to it, there's one argument that trumps them all in favor of the dog: There's no such thing as a "seeing-eye cat."

Rockets' Red Glare

I love the 4th of July. I live for the 4th of July. It has everything I need: staying up late, BBQ, and pyrotechnics. I only have one problem with the 4th of July, and that is Lee Greenwood. His song "God Bless the USA" drives me crazy. Now, before you brand me some unpatriotic jerk, let me explain:

The song, to be frank, is trite drivel. All the great patriotic songs, the Star Spangled Banner, America the Beautiful, etc, were written by poets; psalms to the hopes of a young nation. There's no way that a pop song, much less a 60's-esque country song, can really capture the majesty of a country that grew from 13 rowdy colonies into a country that became a haven and hope for people the world over.

Greenwood's song, instead, plays off of sentiment -- trying to kindle patriotic support by invoking remembrances of those who paid the ultimate price. The end result is that I invariably feel an odd sense of guilt, because there are times when I'm not proud of what my country has done, and that this somehow dishonors the fallen. I don't think anything could be further from the truth, though. This is a country built on dissent, after all. Jefferson himself said, "a little rebellion, now and then, is a good thing."

Ultimately, I think that those who sacrificed didn't do it for any as abstract as a flag or nationalistic pride. When I think of a GI storming the beach at Normandy, I can't imagine visions of eagles and patriotic bunting are in the forefront of his mind. Instead, I see him thinking of his family, his home, and the good things of this life. And that's why he fights, because he thinks that other people should have the right to those good things as well. In the end, it is his hopes and ideals that define him, and truly define what it is to be an American. This is where the flag gets its meaning. America is a reflection of his sacrifice, not the other way around.

When I stand and sing the Star Spangled Banner and my eyes mist, it's not so much because of the flag or even the song, but because I realize that I share the same ideals as those who did sacrifice and am indebted to them. I am humbled and honored to be counted among those that paid the ultimate sacrifice or the sacrifice of a life dutifully lived. In the end, my duty is to live according to the principles of freedom on which the country was founded, according to the dictates of my own conscience. Sometimes this means that I may not agree with everything that my country has done or will do, but it doesn't make me any less patriotic.

Owl

I bought an owl two weeks ago. And, as Dave Barry would say, I am not making this up.

....But he looks less like this:








....And more like this:



He's hanging from a branch in my cherry tree, swaying and turning gently in the breeze. You probably wonder if it felt odd to buy an 18 inch plastic owl. Yes, a little. I figure that's why they invented self checkout.

But my sheepishness has yet to be rewarded. The birds that are raping and pillaging the tree for freshly ripened cherries seem completely unbothered by my owl. When I come out of the house in the morning, it sounds like some sort of deranged sale, a cacophony of shrieks, chirps and flapping, like women fighting over the a pair of discount shoes. And then, as I approach the tree, the birds explode out of it, sometimes a half dozen of them. So, this leads me to believe that they are completely unafraid of my plastic bird of prey. Maybe they have a grasp of physics and realize that he's essentially floating in mid-air?

I'm even pretty sure they pooped on him. As if being plastic wasn't hard enough.

Upgrades

I complain alot about traveling. Not the fact that I travel, but the process of traveling itself. Everyone knows what I'm talking about, right? Terrible airlines, being poked and prodded by security, unbelievably lame rental cars, middle seats, unintelligible drivers,

So, somehow, somewhere, I must have done something right, because this trip has been surreal in it's splendor.

Here's the evidence:

1) Flight leaves at 11:00 AM. Can you get a more perfect time than that? You don't have to wake up early to make the flight, the airport is wonderfully empty, and you still arrive late enough in the day that no one expects you to go work.
2) Plane not close to full. I got my OWN ROW. I sat in the middle so I could see all three TVs. One tuned to the PGA championship, one for random flipping, and one for the news.
3) Rental car: Dodge charger! (If you've heard my rant about the PT cruiser, enough said.)
4) Hotel upgrades. I arrive at the hotel just having achieved "Gold" status. They tell me that they've upgraded my room. I'm in a wing of the hotel I've never stayed in the before. I open the door, and I realize that I have a 3 room suite. No, I am not making this up. I have two king beds in two separate rooms, two bathrooms, and three total TVs. I feel almost guilty about it.

So, there you go.

Karma?

World Perspective II

Okay, so my post about organic foods causing the apocalypse might have been a bit alarmist and a bit of a slippery slope argument. But I think it still makes the point that the trends and policies in first world countries (that's basically anyone who might read this) may have unintended negative consequences on the world at large. So while we think that we are very benevolent and magnanimous, we are also at the same time hurting those less fortunate than us. Need proof? Here's another example...

In the 1962, a book called Silent Spring was published that questioned the side effects of DDT. DDT was, at the time, an inexpensive pesticide that was used widely to control insect pests, particularly mosquitoes. There were questions, however, about the overall healthiness of DDT as well as its effect on the environment. One of the most disturbing claims was that the catastrophic collapse of eagle populations in the US was caused by the thinning of their eggs' shells, which was, in turn, caused by the birds' food sources being contaminated by DDT.

Indeed, Silent Spring was a wake up call. We realized that we could wreak havoc on the environment through inappropriate chemical use. This led to a complete ban of DDT in the US. European and other developed countries followed suit. The environment responded positively to the ban, and bird populations recovered when we switched to newer, more targeted, and necessarily more expensive pesticides. In most respects, the DDT ban appeared to be a great success -- proof that we were willing to pay the price to do the right thing to care for the Earth.

The thing that we forget in this story is that by this time malaria was really no longer a problem in the US. What used to be a common and debilitating illness was pretty much eradicated in this country draining swamps, lots of spraying, and high standard of medical care. Ironically, we ended up banning DDT about the same time we no longer needed it.

But what about the rest of the world that still suffered from endemic malaria? For them, the reality is that DDT remained (and remains) an excellent repellent with little environmental impact when used to for home treatment rather than general mosquito abatement. Despite this potential, many Western aid organizations working in malaria prevention refused to fund DDT use, despite its very low cost. Can you imagine trying to solicit donations from charitable Americans to use a banned pesticide? In effect, the ban had stigmatized DDT.

It's a bit revisionist to claim that DDT use might have impacted malaria, but the statistics from the CDC and WHO are telling regardless. Every year, there are nearly half a billion cases of malaria, causing more than one million deaths -- the vast majority of them being children. It doesn't take a calculator to realize that even a very small percentage of half a billion remains an enormous number. In the US, we happily paid the cost to eliminate DDT -- an inconsequential sum for a wealthy nation -- but was there a global cost?

To be continued...