A New Addition to the Family

For good or ill, we're often defined by those we share our lives with. Others may judge us by the company we keep, and those we choose as friends can offer insights into our hearts that a simple conversation can never reveal. And, after all, those who lay down with dogs shouldn't be surprised if they have to live with fleas. Which brings us to today.

Until this past winter, Nonie and I had never been without a dog. Our first dog was Honey --- a pet she inserted into our marriage (against her new husband's wishes), because she couldn't bear the thought of seeing the poor creature put down. She'd had a rough upbringing, wasn't completely housebroken, was afraid of her shadow, and was, in essence, the world's wimpiest dog. She was also one of the canine world's great escape artists, vowing at an early age that no fence could hold her. But, she had a good heart and, though I would have much preferred starting out a new marriage with a new puppy, she managed to infiltrate our house to the extent that evicting her became impossible. Kind of like the stepchildren of a new spouse, stepchildren, except that stepkids usually don't pee all over everything.

Shortly after Honey and I can to a grudging truce, another dog appeared at our house...again, courtesy of my wife, who apparently was unable to resist taking any stray home with her. (I was too kind-hearted to demand that she take the intruder immediately to the pound. It is a persistent shortcoming of mine --- one that I've been working to remedy --- but on this occasion I could only grunt and resign myself to more years of living pergatory). Skipper was peppy, and filled with a zest for life. He was also far more fearless than his small size warranted, showing a willingness to take on (and get tossed about) by dogs twice his size, without the slightest inclination to learn from his experience and adopt a more discreet attitude about defending the world from other dogs. He did like Honey, however, and would growl at salesmen who overstayed their welcome. The two of them formed a real odd couple, and were with us for many years.

When Honey finally died at a ripe old age, the family was finally ready to exist as Nature intended: with one dog. Since this state of affairs proved intolerable to at least one member of our household, however, I soon found a small beagle puppy named Daisy gracing our house. A bout with parvo virus and extensive vet's bills later, she was a fully functioning member of the family...running off following her nose whenever possible. Though not an escape artist, she would usually take off for hours at the Yanik Family Farm...usually just before we wanted to leave. On one of these adventures, she led an aging Skipper on a merry adventure, through fields and forests, and causing a forest-full of worry for Nonie, who does not take kindly to any misadventure visited upon any of her pets.

We found both dogs a bit later...courtesy of neighbors by the farm, who called the number on their dog tags. Daisy, a healthy young dog, was none the worse for the wear; Skipper, the old codger, didn't fare quite as well. He died a few months later --- although not directly from his ordeal: it weakened an already aging dog, and probably shortened his life. But I suspect he found the freedom of wandering about to be quite an adventure.

Back to being a one-dog family, life seemed far less chaotic: there was only one animal to feed and let outside---Daisy. (Well...aside from the cat, but I continue to deny any active involvement in any cat-enabling activities). One animal to play with and shower attention on. One animal to worry about and take for a walk. One animal to crap in the back yard.

Obviously, something had to change...and, true to form, one day Nonie came home with a puppy she'd stumbled across at the soccer field. A cute, rolling ball of fuzz that resembled a small golden retriever. But, apparently a lot more domestically astute than her clueless husband, her approach to smuggling newcomers into the house had become far more sophisticated. This time, she took care to introduce the animal to our two small kids first. And, realizing at once that she'd managed to turn my flank yet again, there was little to do but groan and accept the reality that the little fuzz ball would be around for a while. We named her Callie.

Daisy and Callie were with us together for many years. Daisy seemed to be a magnet for misadventure and played the part of the animal world's Don Knotts. She was also stubborn as a mule, liked to howl, and tended to venture off on any scent trail that crossed her path. Callie, on the other hand, was sociable and loved to play fetch. She also loved camping, and accompanied us on many of our most memorable trips. We lost them over the course of the last two years---Callie two years ago at Christmas; and Daisy earlier this year, as we were getting our new house ready. Both dogs would have loved the new place: plenty of room, and lots of interesting smells. And their shadows will still haunt our memories.

Since we moved, Nonie has been increasingly agitated, insisting that the absence of a canine presence meant that the new place was seriously understaffed. For myself, I appreciated the respite, the lack of drool, and the absence of crap in the yard. Today, though, the Zoo had one of its many pet adoption events...and so we drove to Royal Oak to see if any of the animals struck our fancy.

There were, of course, the beagles: sweet and serene, pleading to be taken home. There were even two adorable beagle puppies---eight weeks old, and cute as the dickens. We do, after all, have 4-1/2 acres for a dog to explore. But with their tendency to roam---and with horses nearby---we weren't quite sure that a beagle would be our best bet.

We saw a number of other nice dogs...of various cross-breeds. In the end, Nonie was drawn to a black lab mix...with a sweet disposition and an eagerness to please. It's also a male...which will be quite a switch, since nearly all the dogs I've had (all but Skipper) have been girls.

The animal shelter named him "Bosley"...a name I like, and would just as soon keep. I think it has just the right mixture of whimsy to suit him.

Alana thinks we should call him "Buster" (possibly after the Mythbusters test dummy...though I'm not sure she had that Buster in mind). I suspect "Buster" will prevail.

So...welcome Bosley. Or Buster.  Or Whatever.

And if it's not too much trouble, please try to keep the crap outside.

JEFFREY CAMINSKY, a retired public prosecutor from Michigan, writes on a wide range of topics. His books include the science fiction adventure novel The Star Dancers, the exciting second volume in the Guardians of Peace-tm series, The Sonnets of William Shakespeare, and the acclaimed Referee’s Survival Guide, a book on soccer officiating. All are published by New Alexandria Press, and are available on Amazon, as well as directly from the publisher.

The Time Portal

Part of being human is experiencing the constant pull of emotions. As we grow, our experiences blend into the montage that becomes "me". And throughout our lives, we often trigger memories that call to mind earlier days. Some of these memories can be sad or scary; others cause our eyes to mist and our throats to swell, as we recall bygone days that are special.

Much of my childhood was spent playing sports. I passed most of my summers playing baseball, often at the ball diamond adjoining the local elementary school. But come September, a chill would creep into the air, and the wistfulness at the end of summer would make way for a new sport: football.

I played organized football for a few seasons, but soon found it too regimented for my tastes: the coaches were usually drill-sergeant wannabees, and the plays they insisted we run largely reduced us to the status of machines: cogs in their own visions of glory. I was always a good athlete, playing both offense and defense in various positions; and I was the team's punter as well. But I soon found myself bored by the routine and grind of practice. By the time I reached high school, I found that playing with my friends was a lot more fun than being screamed at by adults. And so I came to spend most autumn afternoons after school on the field adjoining that same old elementary school...running and passing and punting until dark.

When I think back on all the memories of my youth, the purest joys I had came from things we kids could do on our own, when we escaped the world of adults and family responsibilities and just played together as friends.

Seasons come and go throughout our lives; and as we grow older our responsibilities grow with us. But for me, the cool crispness of freshly mowed grass on a sunny September afternoon will always call to mind touch football...and a young boy too busy having fun to worry about the burdens of adulthood that were looming in the shadows.

JEFFREY CAMINSKY, a retired public prosecutor from Michigan, writes on a wide range of topics. His books include the science fiction adventure novel The Star Dancers, the exciting second volume in the Guardians of Peace-tm series, The Sonnets of William Shakespeare, and the acclaimed Referee’s Survival Guide, a book on soccer officiating. All are published by New Alexandria Press, and are available on Amazon, as well as directly from the publisher.

Burning Books Instead of Reading Them

In one of the low moments of our current interval of xenophobic exhuberance, it seems that a church in Florida is planning to reinstitute a centuries-old tradition of small-minded people throughout the ages: burning books they don't like.



In 1821, the writer Heinrich Heine wrote: "Where they burn books, they will end in burning human beings." We regard the Nazi book-burning rituals with horror: one of my favorite lines from the last Indiana Jones movie has Sean Connery telling one of the evil Nazis that "goose-stepping morons like yourself should try reading books instead of burning them". And Ray Bradbury's novel Fahrenheit 451 gave us a vision of a futuristic society where the authorities institutionalized the practice of burning books they deemed unfit to read. I find it depressing that in the 21st Century America---the Land of Liberty and home of the First Amendment---we are facing the prospect of another round of book-burning.

JEFFREY CAMINSKY, a retired public prosecutor from Michigan, writes on a wide range of topics. His books include the science fiction adventure novel The Star Dancers, the exciting second volume in the Guardians of Peace-tm series, The Sonnets of William Shakespeare, and the acclaimed Referee’s Survival Guide, a book on soccer officiating. All are published by New Alexandria Press, and are available on Amazon, as well as directly from the publisher.

Marketing

Writing is a lot of fun...though it can, at times, be a lonely pursuit.

Unfortunately, marketing sucks---largely because I seem to have no talent for it. In fact, my entire upbringing makes me wince at the thought of blowing my own horn. I suppose it must be nice to have no shame when it comes to self-promoting...but it still makes me feel uncomfortable.

Inspired by my son, Jason --- who is a gifted writer in his own right, and is trying to launch his own career as a game developer --- I've started up a new page on Facebook, hoping to drum up some interest in some of my writing, especially now that I'm about to release a new book. (Clouds of Darkness, for those keeping score at home...due out some time this fall). But I have my doubts about whether anything I do will succeed in attracting readers.

It seems that those who can, do...those who can't teach...and those who are awful at anything, but good at self-promotion, get rich. Doesn't seem fair...but if I can move from being awful to being passably mediocre at it, I suppose everything will turn out well.

JEFFREY CAMINSKY, a retired public prosecutor from Michigan, writes on a wide range of topics. His books include the science fiction adventure novel The Star Dancers, the exciting second volume in the Guardians of Peace-tm series, The Sonnets of William Shakespeare, and the acclaimed Referee’s Survival Guide, a book on soccer officiating. All are published by New Alexandria Press, and are available on Amazon, as well as directly from the publisher.

Under the Bus

Though we have all experienced it while growing up, there are few things more cruel than to be punished for something you didn't do. Even worse is to be punished for doing something noble...especially if you show some personal vulnerability while doing it.

With President Obama under fire for any number of reasons, and the NAACP taking heat for casting the Tea Partiers as racists without anything as mundane as proof, it seemed the obviously wise political move to react swiftly and forcefully when a member of the Administration---speaking at an event sponsored by the NAACP---made remarks that could be construed as overtly "racist": talking of her attitudes about helping a white farmer facing the loss of his farm while a lower level employee at the Department of Agriculture, she spoke of viewing it through the prism of race, and "not doing all she could" to help him. So, she was promptly fired from her job with the Obama Administration, and the NAACP issued a statement denouncing her. All without bothering to check with her first...since, after all, there is simply no excuse for racist comments.

The only problem was that the remarks quoted were not racist at all. Rather, speaking of her early days as a USDA employee, she was speaking over her personal struggle to overcome the racial attitudes she grew up with...and the need to overcome prejudice of all kinds in order to work for a better world.

Shirley Sherrod is probably not perfect; I may not like her politics, and it's entirely possible we wouldn't get along if we met at a party. But there's something sad---and curiously ironic---in having our purported guardians of racial attitudes rush to judgment, hurl insults, and threaten the livelihood of someone who's only crime was speaking candidly and openly about her own personal struggle to move past race and toward a place where people view each other simply as people.

Of course, this morality tale probably won't give our modern day race-baiters and civic Morality Patrol cause to pause the next time someone is quoted on a blog saying something that, at first blush, sounds a bit odd. But, at least, it should give the rest of us something to think about.

JEFFREY CAMINSKY, a retired public prosecutor from Michigan, writes on a wide range of topics. His books include the science fiction adventure novel The Star Dancers, the exciting second volume in the Guardians of Peace-tm series, The Sonnets of William Shakespeare, and the acclaimed Referee’s Survival Guide, a book on soccer officiating. All are published by New Alexandria Press, and are available on Amazon, as well as directly from the publisher.

A Modest Proposal for Balancing the Federal Budget

It's no secret that people in this country are furious with our Federal Government for wasting our money.

In any given year, we spend billions on pet projects for various congressmen that do nothing for the country, but which they deem indispensible to their own bids for re-election.

Various proposals have been floated over the years, from a balanced budget amendment, to priority-based budgeting. But the red ink just keeps piling up, and the Government keeps on doling out money like drunken sailors. And in recent years, it doesn't matter much which party is in charge; the only thing that changes is which set of well-connected cronies gets to gorge itself on our hard-earned money ---money which we give up because we can't boycott paying our taxes without going to jail.

I think the better solution is not to keep forking over more money to the government; we'd be better off demanding that they spend no more money than they take in. To that effect, my own modest proposal has been to pay the President and Congress out of any surplus funds---ie, money left over after we paid all our bills. Kind of like what happens to the proprietor of a small business, only with free health care. If we don't have a surplus...or we're bleeding money that year...they don't get paid. I think that probably would do more to balance the Federal budget than any number of laws, amendments, or protests by angry taxpayers.


JEFFREY CAMINSKY, a retired public prosecutor from Michigan, writes on a wide range of topics. His books include the science fiction adventure novel The Star Dancers, the exciting second volume in the Guardians of Peace-tm series, The Sonnets of William Shakespeare, and the acclaimed Referee’s Survival Guide, a book on soccer officiating. All are published by New Alexandria Press, and are available on Amazon, as well as directly from the publisher.

An Afternoon of Blood

One of the pivotal moments in the history of the United States occurred 147 years ago today, on the second day of the battle of Gettysburg.

On July 2, 1863, a professor at a small college in Maine, had ascended to command the 20th Maine. On the second day of the battle, Col. Joshua Chamberlain was ordered to take his regiment to defend the extreme left flank of the Union lines on a hill known as Little Round Top at all costs. Soon after taking their position, they came under a fierce assault by the Confederates, who realized that turning the Union flank at Little Round Top would let the Confederates send the Union forces scattering, and win the battle.

After repelling assault after assault, with his men exhausted and almost out of ammunition, Chamberlain realized that his men could never withstand another assault by the Confederates. Reasoning that the enemy was probably just as exhausted...and perhaps running low on ammunition themselves, Chamberlain concluded that if they could not withstand another attack...and could not retreat from their position guarding the Union flank...his only option was to attack. Ordering his men to fix bayonets, and in the face of another Rebel assault, they charged down the hill....breaking up the Confederate assault, turning the near-disaster into a rout, saving the Union from defeat on the second day of battle, and setting the stage for the fateful third day...when the Union center would face Pickett's Charge.

For his extraordinary bravery in the face of almost certain defeat, Joshua Chamberlain was awarded the Congressional Medal of Honor.

JEFFREY CAMINSKY, a retired public prosecutor from Michigan, writes on a wide range of topics. His books include the science fiction adventure novel The Star Dancers, the exciting second volume in the Guardians of Peace-tm series, The Sonnets of William Shakespeare, and the acclaimed Referee’s Survival Guide, a book on soccer officiating. All are published by New Alexandria Press, and are available on Amazon, as well as directly from the publisher.