One For All?

There is a  house around the corner from ours that  I've affectionately dubbed  The  Olive Garden for its architectural resemblance to the popular purveyor of unlimited breadsticks.  It's a stately, stone residence fronted by a fountain and palm trees, and it stands out conspicuously among the other modest homes in the area.

At some point in the past couple of years, the house was vacated.  Soon after, there were trucks for a commercial insulation installer in the driveway.  I suspected a home improvement project.  I was wrong.  A California company is now running a business out of the four-car garage and the crew is living in the home.  The trucks are loaded with insulation each morning, head out to a job site for the day, and return in the evening.  

On the opposite side of our street, and within view of our home, is another house that has suffered a similar fate.  After the owner passed away, the house sat vacant for months.  It briefly harbored an illegal marijuana-growing operation and is now occupied by sketchy characters who have erected a large building in the back without a permit.  The yard and driveway are cluttered with vehicles, appliances, and furniture.

Both of these sites are violating local residential codes.  The city has levied fines and yet the violations continue. In the past, people wouldn't have subjected their neighbors to this blight out of shame or embarrassment. Today there is dwindling respect for local laws and for our sense of community.

Is it any wonder, is it any wonder,

Is it any wonder, that we fuss and fight?

Neighbours do unto strangers, 

do unto neighbours

what you do to yourself ...

 ~ Neighbours

On a state level, our freeways are strewn with litter even though signs warn that violators will feel pain.  Apparently, it's inconvenient to dispose of trash at home. Are motorists actually reporting littering violators? Our state has an Adopt-A-Highway program that allows volunteers to clean up the litter in exchange for a sign that lets drivers know who is keeping their roadways clean.  Incredibly, the state charges those volunteers $300-$900 for those signs. They must be trying to make up for lost revenue. 

Nationally, we're battling a widening public health crisis with unknown - and potentially long-term - side effects. Many citizens of our great United States would rather fret about personal rights and overload the health care system than seek compromise or be inconvenienced in any way.

And finally, on a global scale, science has been repeatedly telling us there's a problem and yet there is ongoing discord and a subsequent lack of meaningful action on our earth's loss of biodiversity and the impending climate disaster.  The planet will adapt, but humanity may not be so lucky.

Think the time is right 

for a palace revolution

But where I live the game to play 

is compromise solution ...

~ Street Fighting Man

Have you ever noticed how a flock of birds can morph and change direction instantly?  Each bird is acting instinctively as a single cell in a larger organism.  The movements protect the flock from predators and conserve energy by making flight more efficient.  They don't overthink or debate the situation - they just act. It remains to be seen, however, if they can protect themselves from humanity.

There was a time in the not-to-distant past when humans banded together in cooperation to ensure survival. Imagine what our species could accomplish today if we chose to set aside ego, greed, and ignorance in pursuit of a common goal.  Maybe we could take a lesson in longevity from a few guys who have worked through their differences and prospered ...

RIP Charlie Watts

    

"Let's grab the world, girl 

by the scruff of the neck

And drink it down deeply, 

and love it do death ... "

 ~ Mixed Emotions

Mind Games

Motivated by my daughter - a voracious consumer of books - I've started reading again.  By reading, I mean actually holding a book, turning the pages, and attempting to process the information without falling asleep.

I used to read more but got pulled away by, among other things, the smartphone.  I now try to read after the first cup of java in the morning and before turning out the lights at night, which is a far superior soporific to mindless scrolling.

I prefer non-fiction books on sports, music, popular culture, or science.  I am currently reading Subliminal: How Your Unconscious Mind Rules Your Behavior by Leonard Mlodinow. 

I actually bought the book in 2013, and it sat on the shelf until recently.  I may have been unconsciously avoiding it.

Mlodinow, a theoretical physicist and mathematician, posits that our subconscious minds have more influence on our behavior than we fully understand.  This arrangement is needed, he says, because as humans we are continually flooded with information and would be completely overwhelmed without the subconscious mind running interference and handling the small details.

Further, he claims that our superior human intelligence evolved as a result of our need for social interaction.  That is, "social cooperation and the social intelligence it requires seem to have been crucial to our survival."

Mlodinow cites as examples the large-scale cooperation and diverse skill sets needed to build a car (facilities, design, raw materials, assembly, etc.) or just to brew a cup of coffee.  

Another human endeavor that requires a high degree of cooperation is the internet.  But I submit that it is that very same internet that is now destroying social cooperation.

It starts innocently enough with the "One Must Go Forever" posts.  These are done in the spirit of fun, but they are not-so-subtly directing the viewer to make a polarizing choice.  And we willingly play along!  Why must one go?

And then there are the posts that instruct the viewer to choose one musician or band over another one.  Ronnie James Dio or Frank Sinatra?  Fleetwood Mac or Metallica?  Of course, you may prefer one over the other, but why must we choose?

Politics, however, is the least socially cooperative subject of all.  Today we have vaxers vs. anti-vaxers, maskers vs. anti-maskers, Sith vs. Jedi, and on and on and on.  I've stopped watching the news and I avoid politics when I am online. The energy spent bickering on social media would be better spent on exercise, reading, or helping others. Like Frankenstein's monster, the creation will eventually destroy its creator.

So the next time you feel the need to call somebody out online, put the phone down and demonstrate your social intelligence by picking up a book instead.  If you're not careful, you might learn something. 

Frame of Reference

I can’t remember the last time I went bowling. Come to think of it, I can’t remember the first time I went bowling. But I do remember that whenever I did go bowling I enjoyed it.

Bowling alleys today are not the same as they were in the seventies and eighties.  Back then there was an element of uncertainty when you entered, like a fight might break out at any second. The smell of greasy food, lane oil, and shoe disinfectant combined to form a thick, lingering aroma that was going home with you whether you wanted it to or not.

Due to unfriendly associations of the word "alley", today’s facilities are now called bowling centers. These are sanitized, family-friendly versions of your father's lanes. The biggest change? The prohibition on smoking in public buildings eliminated a serious health hazard. But you can still get a platter of deep-fried everything, and there are actually 11 states with no public prohibition on indoor smoking. If you enjoy second-hand smoke with your strikes and spares, see this list 👉: https://www.cdc.gov/statesystem/factsheets/sfia/SmokeFreeIndoorAir.html

While the game remains the same, the technology has changed. Bowling has been cleansed of its secret scoring science. Gone are the oversized advertising scoresheets and stubby pencils, replaced by automated systems that make identifying upright pins easier while dulling our math skills.  Scoring a bowling match manually is similar to keeping book at a baseball game: both require a sharp pencil and sport-specific knowledge to be done correctly.

"FRED AND HERB WELCOME YOU TO OWENSVILLE BOWL"

The composition of bowling balls has also changed. Originally, balls were made of an extremely durable wood known as lignum vitae (Latin for "wood of life").  Over time the coverstock (outer layer) changed from rubber to polyester to urethane to reactive resin to proactive particle, which gave balls more bite.  The cores have become more complex as well, to facilitate spin. In fact, since the early nineties, manufacturers have used sophisticated design software to improve ball performance.

Bowling is unusual in that it's one of the few "ball sports" in which the ball is not passed from player to player (golf is another).  In the four big leagues (NBA, NHL, NFL, MLB), the balls are all adorned with the league commissioner's name.  Does anybody know the name of the commissioner of the Professional Bowlers Association? No, because Tom Clark's name is only on his ball.  A bowling ball is a personal item and should be readily identifiable to all parties.  Nobody wants to handle the other players' balls.  And therein lies the quintessence of bowling: the personalized ball. In researching this piece I scoured the web for images of personalized balls to build my All-Name dream team. The only requirement was that the names have a bowling-esque, you-know-it-when-you-see-it quality.  Here's the team: 

Velda, Melva, Stu, and the mysterious M. Main

Admittedly, I was never much of a bowler. I never owned a ball (although I did own a pre-enjoyed bowling shirt) and didn’t frequent bowling alleys other than for the occasional late-night, beer-fueled, recreational game.  Bowling for me is like golf: taking it seriously takes the fun out of it.  What makes it great is that anyone can walk in, rent some shoes, grab a house ball, and start bowling. 

When I did bowl it was most likely at the hautily named Steuben Bowling Academy in Bath, NY.  Sadly, the pinsetters were silenced after a wall of the building collapsed in September of 2018. There was no reset. After more than 80 years in business, Steuben Bowl was razed and replaced with a parking lot. It would have been a fabulous gesture for the village to honor the site by memorializing the pin-setting locations in that lot.

On a recent visit to a local thrift store, with nothing particular in mind, a shiny object caught my eye.  I picked it up and turned it over in my hands.  Fashioned of metal and wood, it had substantial weight for its size, which to me is a reliable indicator of quality.  It was covered with a fine layer of dust.  An inscription bore the numbers 62 and 63 - were they referencing 1962 and 1963?  Was this $1.99 treasure approaching its golden anniversary?  What stories did it hold?  Many years ago it surely meant something to someone but was now lingering in a thrift store bin with bike helmets and ab rollers. And so, unwilling to let this travesty continue, I rescued the showpiece which is now properly and proudly displayed in my brother's man cave in Rochester, NY.  

Let the good times roll!