Do you know what dry rot is? Have you ever seen old wood that looks like wood but is hollow because there is no pith left? Have you ever lifted what seemed to be a piece of cloth but it crumbled into a dry powder in your hands? Have you ever found an old box of cards exposed to dampness and when you tried to read them they would fall apart in fragile disarray? It is a condition of decay. It looks okay until one tries to use it in a useful way. Suffering from dry rot, it is not up to the task. It is a ghost, an ash of its creation.

Humans are susceptible to the same decay.

We work from day to day surviving the constant pressure that wears us down until one day we are in dry rot. We look human; we look functional; we feel we are the substance of our birth. But we are a ghost who breathes, eats, pontificates, and pretends to be valuable. We are just dry rot. Called to task, we crumble into uselessness.

This is too bad. Just as in material things, there are defenses to prevent dry rot in ourselves. Just as we seek to prevent rust in our tools; just as we maintain our houses; just as we maintain functionality in our vehicles; just as we maintain static rituals that keep order in our lives – we can introduce defenses that keep our lives rich and full and pliable against the vagaries of living. We can avoid dry rot to our last day.

One way is to keep the mind flexible. Deliberately pursue new ideas that test your opinions. Deliberately allow yourself to be confronted by social progress. Deliberately investigate the value of lifelong beliefs. Deliberately pursue new physical experiences and challenges. Dry rot cannot accumulate in the presence of newness.

Another avenue is to pursue new information as literally as you pursue physical fitness. The precursor to intellectual flabbiness is lack of intellectual exercise. The best avenue is reading. Television will draw you away; Internet will draw you away; weariness will draw you away. Where can you find new nutrients to prevent the emptiness of dry rot?

The answer is both far reaching and personal. As a simple example of maintaining flexibility in our contemporary lives, the mariner and his wife scramble for first read of the Atlantic magazine. We have observed that the Atlantic, along with the New Yorker magazine, Scientific American and an array of Internet websites, provide us with a constant barrage of new ideas, new reports on a rapidly changing culture, new interpretations of old, dare we say sacrosanct rituals, and new views of the future that emerge beneath our feet.

Using the technology of broadcasting, deliberately check in on other news channels besides NBC, CBS, ABC and Fox. One would be surprised at the perspectives of news channels sponsored by China, Great Britain, Arabic broadcasting and European news networks. Even Canada has a different slant on the importance of news.

Certain channels like Bloomberg offer educational programs that broaden one’s understanding of the world. Exploring newness is the best defense against dry rot – even new physical experiences.

The mariner can attest that age is an ally of dry rot. It makes the challenge of being a purposeful human being in the world even greater. One must overcome frailties; one must garner strength from task to task. But one should never allow retreat from an active life about which to take control.

At the other end of the spectrum, the young have no perspective on the amount of energy wasted on frivolousness. The young must discipline themselves to ask what the future holds and how they will play a role. They, too, will be challenged by the willingness to recede into dry rot.

Ancient Mariner

Regularly, Amos holds forth lamenting the failures of the human species. It is his wont. But there are places on Planet Earth where the planet can still display its own beauty, timelessness and independent reality untarnished by humans. For those traveling the North American Southwest, many earthen displays are available.

The mariner traveled through the Southwest on his way to Los Angeles to attend his daughter’s wedding. Having experienced horrendous traffic, indescribable waste of Earth buried beneath 12-lane highways and interchanges large enough to be cattle ranches, and slowly dying roadside trees and other vegetation from fossil fuel waste, the mariner was sensitized to those moments when Earth’s timeless beauty was on display – beauty undisturbed for eons because there are scant resources for human consumption or destruction.

The first moment with Earth’s museum of art is the Glenwood Canyon in western Colorado on I-70. When highway contractors planned to bulldoze their way through this magnificent canyon, the public rose up in protest led by many environmental organizations and championed by John Denver. The highway planners were forced to redesign I-70 in such a way that the splendor of Glenwood Canyon was preserved as much as possible and wildlife was not disrupted in its natural behaviors. Granted, the canyon would be even more inspirational without the accoutrement of automobiles but still one can view the majesty that only Earth can produce.

It comes to mind that the canyon is one of the planet’s cathedrals. Glenwood Canyon is narrow with vertical cliffs rising far above the Colorado River. The mind senses an upward thrust to the heavens and beyond; the cliffs frame a portal to the Universe. As with all Earth’s displays, the human experience is one that makes us aware that we are not in charge as much as we think we are. 5,972,000,000,000,000,000,000 metric tons is in charge.

Traveling on toward Las Vegas, there is a relatively short canyon that will be missed unless one is looking for earthen inspiration. The Virgin Canyon displays the massive power of Earth. While Glenwood Canyon displays unity with the Universe, Virgin Canyon displays the no-nonsense nature of Planet Earth. The rock formations are huge, suggesting immovable strength. The formations suggest that we are not as strong as the planet by a long shot; the mariner was impressed in the same manner a muscle builder may impress – overwhelming flexes of strength and potential energy.

Driving through the Mohave Desert/Red Rock Canyon, Earth offers continuous entertainment as only large deserts can. If you like colors, Red Rock and the Painted Desert east on the way to Albuquerque are phenomenal; it is obvious the planet was in its bright color phase when these colorful, vast canvases were painted.

Returning from Los Angeles, the mariner and his wife did not stop at the Grand Canyon. The canyon is impossible to absorb all at once. There are the displays of color; observers remark they must be painted by humans but not so. Earth is the origin of all colors and will use whatever color fits its purpose. Further, the vast cut into the canyon by Earth’s own history – a history before time and with no assistance by H sapiens, makes one become aware that the Earth has been around a lot longer than humans; one is reminded that a shallow sea once covered the canyon long before it became a canyon.

There are other artworks in Earth’s museum that are not rock formations. The mariner is in awe of the planet’s oceans. Sitting still on silent rolling swells makes one aware that oceans will do what they will regardless of human intent. The oceans surrounding the planet speak of Earth’s independence and they cavort only with the Sun and Moon to create tides.

When we look at the Milky Way and the Solar system, Earth shares with us its own family of inanimate siblings, cousins and stars. If nothing else, viewing Earth’s family shrinks our species to its proper importance. In times gone by, we borrowed the Zodiac from space as an attempt to explain Earth’s place in human understanding. We continue to this day pondering the existence of gravity and the cause of dark matter. Earth already knows.

Ancient Mariner

Think first of someone with the talent of an artist: that intuitive awareness that most of us can appreciate but never emulate; think da vinci; think the Statue of Liberty by Bartholdi and Eiffel; think Eiffel Tower by Eiffel; think the Vietnam memorial by Maya Linn; think Frank Lloyd Wright. These artists have intuitive creativity enriched by a requirement for function – Pablo Picasso and Andy Warhol need not apply. Now you understand the intuitive genius of Tom.

Tom is not famous; his artwork is not easily reproduced nor, perhaps, not widely wanted in an age when upscale homes must flaunt expensive materials, artificial elegance, Pier One decor, and look-alike neighborhoods. Tom never considered himself an artist. That awareness probably would have restrained his creative eye and certainly would have affected his enjoyment. Tom’s career as a PhD in soil microbiology and working for large agricultural chemical manufacturers similar to PPG and Uniroyal also was creative when he was presented with a new biological chemical to analyze or sent to a golf course or a farm or park because someone had to identify an unknown cause for poor plant performance. It was Tom who sent mariner a bottle of “stuff” to keep his Poinsettias from growing lanky after Christmas.

Tom had a dream. Long before he retired, Tom began drawing his dream house. Drawings that eventually had detail like how many square-nut half inch bolts he would need. He kept his drawings on laptop software to retain measurements and scale and how many two-by fours are needed – as if Tom knew what a 2×4 was. If he needed one, he would cut down a tree, cut the tree into large planks, dry the wood for a year in a specially heated school bus AKA wood drying kiln, run the plank through a planer and jointer, and then cut 2×4-inch pieces (real 2x4s, not 1 5/8 by 3 5/8).

Tom has a loving and extremely forgiving wife. She asked, as Tom finally retired and committed himself to building the house, “How long?” “Oh, about 4-5 years,” he said. Tom didn’t mention that first they would have to build and live in a small house and giant workshop. Tom quickly gained a reputation for identifying a project – which, one discovered, required another project before that one, and another before that one, and another before that one. The reader and mariner will go to a lumber yard on Saturday to buy some materials. When Tom said he was ready to start framing, that meant he had to build a sawmill, buy a school bus, retool the front-end loader so it could function like a fork lift, cut down and square 20 acres of trees, dry the bulk lumber for a year, cut the rough wood into framing pieces, and make massive steel plates to hold trusses together.

Tom is a skilled welder. By welding this and welding that, he has created, resurrected or modified tools from broken angle iron to major equipment like forklifts, front-end loaders and jeeps – redesigned to achieve unique tasks. The home handyman envies Tom’s collection of used and restored heavy duty saws, planers, jointers, sanders, routers, endless jigs and drills. Mariner wanders Tom’s workshop in awe of the nameless tools and devices made to accomplish unique tasks on a grand scale. For example, to turn the bus into a kiln, he welded steel drop down covers for the bus windows. These allow regulation of temperature; he installed a large heater – some would say a small furnace – to achieve the high temperatures needed.

Tom also is a perpetual visitor to auctions, sellouts of closing stores, lumber yards, farms and private sales of lumber, steel, plumbing supplies (Tom could start a museum about plumbing and heating), and, as his wife, the reader, and the mariner might consider – junk. One must admit that it is junk but Tom sees in it an artful reuse for a future project. Artful, indeed, as his artist’s eye will transform it into a tasteful creation or a needed function.

1-Sharp Tailed Grouse with skink for breakfast; Serengeti in background.

 Tom is blessed that he owns 120 acres as his share among his siblings. The house site sits on a high hill overlooking a large field that once had grazing cattle but now has an idyllic Serengeti appeal. Wildlife abounds in this remote region of Arkansas. Deer families roam the ‘Serengeti’ as if they were Thompson’s Gazelles. An unexpected visitor for those not familiar with this part of Arkansas is the domestic but feral hog; not the razorback or the peccary – but a relative of Wilbur. They are destructive as hogs tend to be and willingly tear up gardens much worse than Iowa rabbits. Tom converted his father’s cattle trailer – made from cattle fence and metal posts – into a hog trap that catches them alive. Tom and his wife make sublime smoked pork!

The project began in earnest around 2003-2004 when Tom laid spray paint lines on the location. (More in another post.)

REFERENCE SECTION

• Stephen Hawking is doing a series for BBC wherein he says the human race will disappear sometime between 100 and 10,000 years but not to worry: the human seed will live on in space – if we make it through the next 100 years! Buy your ticket now. See:

http://www.cnet.com/news/stephen-hawking-were-about-to-wipe-ourselves-out-but-dont-worry/

• The reader may be aware that for years US News magazine has ranked US colleges and Universities using an elaborate set of conditions; the effort has drawn general praise by readers and education pundits. Now US News has applied its research model to nations ranked from the best country to live in to the worst country to live in. It ranked 60 nations. The US came in fourth behind Germany, Canada, and the United Kingdom. The website is interactive so the reader can drill down into a country’s stats and history. See:
• http://www.usnews.com/news/best-countries/overall-full-list
• Fareed Zakaria has a Sunday show on CNN (Global Public Square aka GPS). Mariner has recommended GPS in the past. This past week (1/17), he focused on radicalism and how social media is the hotbed of radicalization. Zakaria points to a recent personal experience where atrocious lies about him were posted and went viral (called trolling). See Fareed on CNN https://twitter.com/FareedZakaria/status/689238727818932228 or read about his recent attack from social media in his column in the Washington Post. https://www.washingtonpost.com/people/fareed-zakaria

Ancient Mariner

The primary event today is to visit the renowned Phoenix Botanic Gardens – a first in every travel guide. Mariner has waited a long time to explore a desert biome. While not out in the wilderness, it is a rich accumulation of cactus and succulent of every variety. Watching carefully, one can glimpse the roadrunner of cartoon fame (Geococcyx), Gambels Quail, (Callipepla gambelii), and the Mourning Dove (Zenaida macroura). Needless to say, mariner purchased many small samples of desert plants to start his own Sonora Desert.

It was promised that there would be an update of the ‘morning line,’ that is, today’s list of betting odds for the next President.

Everyone has held their position except Rand Paul, who fell to the bottom. Otherwise, bettors have seen nothing that would require hedging their bets.

Some readers asked the meaning of “hold the lay line.” There are times when sailing a line (direction) there is close clearance. The helmsman must assure that the boat does not fall to the close side. If that happens, the helmsman will be forced to tack away to be on the open side of the line. See diagram.

Mariner uses this term to represent driving. The driver must be sure to be in the correct lane, take the correct exit, hold speed, and stay in a direction that will provide successful arrival.

Tomorrow has a trip to a special zoo displaying desert wildlife.

Ancient Mariner

Ship’s Log Day 1

In his newly acquired vessel, a van of recent vintage, the mariner set sail for Phoenix, Arizona, USA. When his first mate took the helm, he decided to lounge luxuriously aft in the Captain’s quarters. Opening his laptop to write to his readers – note the mariner’s skill at hitting both the right key and only the right key is already challenged – typing while moving has a fail rate approaching 75%. It is wise that programmers have provided voice-driven software. Now, if the mariner can reduce road noise enough for the software to hear his voice, things will be fine. Another tip for typing while moving is to turn off the mouse and use the inboard pad; all the mouse wants to do is escape.

The first day’s course is set for Oklahoma City; it involves foregoing the fastest course, due south, to avoid rain and flooding. At Leon, IA, we changed bearing to southwest; without incident docked in Oklahoma City 20:30 hours. 

Ship’s log Day 2

In the morning, as we ate our free breakfast, we encountered the first sign that we were traveling in foreign waters: the restaurant TV is on FOX channel. Regular readers know the mariner, on occasion, is not wholly conservative. Nevertheless, he considers himself a tolerant soul. It’s simply that he is unaccustomed to traveling abroad. Things are different.

The first impression, as we sail further into Southwest waters, is the tone of the media – not just TV but newspapers and advertising. Conversation, too, is less tolerant – or perhaps more judgmental about unaccustomed topics. It makes mariner think about chicken and egg relationships: what came first, the media or the people? Thinking about it, the people came first but what sustains public opinion? Would folks anywhere have more thoughtful opinions if the media didn’t harp on headline grabbing interpretations that induce separatism as a way of life? The mariner decides the same undue influence is universal but different in each region.

Since communication corporations decided that news is also a profit center and not just a public service, the public has been abused in its desire to know just the facts, ma’am. News departments are now required to obtain market share; not only does the public not receive important but unentertaining news, it receives altered news focused on market share at the cost of encouraging close-mindedness. It is not hard to know why there will never be another Ed Murrow, Walter Cronkite or Huntley-Brinkley.

It is time for the mariner to take a turn at the helm. Today our course takes us to the port of Albuquerque.

Ancient Mariner

The computer clock gadget has passed midnight. It is Christmas Eve. Two energies emerge at the winter solstice: simultaneously, many religions celebrate a Holy moment – a moment that can be traced back millennia to a different time but, as it always will be, the religious holidays don the trappings of the present, always keeping just enough sacrament to give a celebrant pause about the value of life.

The second energy is that which comes from sharing. Not just presents in boxes, flashy decorations, and even some sharing by traveling the cold streets to share the overflow of caroling. It also is sharing a love-energy with folks who have nothing to share themselves. It is food boxes, clothes, making arrangements for visitations to family that, but for your sharing, would never happen. It is warm food – not just at the winter solstice, but year round. It is reconnecting with scattered second cousins one hasn’t seen for decades. Gifting is a special sensation, celebrated as needs require.

The mariner takes a break from the challenges around the world, challenges between races, between cultures, between civilized and uncivilized, between politicians, between people and biomes. He provides for you a gift: A few poems that the reader may find entertaining. The poems are taken from a poetry book, Lyrical Iowa, recently published by The Iowa Poetry Association. In fact, it is the seventieth year for publishing the poetic anthology. Contents of Lyrical Iowa are taken from the results of an annual competition. Like any competition, the poetry that makes it to the book is best of breed; there are nine categories each awarding a first, second and third cash prize.

1,898 poets submitted works. 64 winners received cash prizes. The mariner is proud to say that his wife won a first-place cash reward in the “First Time Entrant Category.” Many of her relatives especially will recognize the subject of the poem:

Sailing, Summer of ‘14

The old Styrofoam sailboat has been tied up in the rafters

of the garage for more than fifty years.

We cut it down from its musty ropes and wonder if it will

disintegrate into dust.

But Styrofoam does not disintegrate. It lasts forever.

The sail needs a patch with duct tape and a plastic trash bag

to make it good as new. New was in 1963.

We load the boat into the truck to take it to the lake.

We unload it at the dock and wonder if it will sink.

But Styrofoam does not sink. It floats forever.

We set sail onto the dark water, catching the breath of the wind,

catching our breath, learning the ropes, coming about, dodging

the boom, heeling, sailing, then smoothly we turn back to the dock.

Later, we find a photograph of the same boat at the same lake

at the same dock. The man in the boat is our grandfather, younger

in 1963 than we are now.

We wonder, as we tie the boat back into the rafters,

who will sail it next time.

For time, like Styrofoam, floats forever.

Marty Miller

A cute poem from the Humorous Category:

Missing

No Golden Gate, London or Brooklyn

in the pages, which seemed contrary

until I finally came to realize

it was an “un-abridged” dictionary.

Steven Thompson, Osage

Remember haiku? Here are a couple of winners:

Lonesome last Oak leaf

Floated softly to the ground

And whispered “winter.”

Ellen G Danner, Woodburn

The ice floes stay still-

Above this frozen river

Only the Moon moves.

Lee Enslow, Beaver

Mariner wishes everyone a fine holiday. Take the opportunity suggested by Joseph Campbell: find a blissful place and love yourself for being.

Ancient Mariner