Notes From A Bear's Journey

   Linda Ronstadt may have made famous that line written by Johnny Burke and Bob Haggart, "pardon my asking, what's new ?"  And if you've read this blog before, well, this "new" format change should jump out at you.  But hey, this changed appearance wasn't my idea but rather that of the ever-changing Google, letting its users know that we could keep the "old" style for awhile (a few months at most) and then after that, the choice was theirs.  But actually, it's been good and served to remind me of how easy it is to get stuck in one's ways, especially when I heard Ira Flatow of Science Friday tell his listeners that they should stay in touch and contact the show, "even if with an old-fashioned email."  Later came the youthful column by Lauren Oyler in the London Review of Books that sort of finished the job for me, her piece reminding me that my methods (blog, email, punctuation, grammar, even an actual phone call) were anti...

   A few things have happened in the past few days, none of which were expected.  My router appeared to go out which resulted in a frustrating few hours working with my subscription tech support which assured me that all was fine on their end and that it wasn't my router at all but rather a faulty transmission signal; this meant a follow-up call to my carrier (only during business hours, mind you) whose automated line did several "transmission" checks (which failed) and then relayed me onto a live tech person.  A few more checks on their end and it was discovered that a network adapter had gone out and had basically blanked out the neighborhood for a day (one would think a text or phone notification of such would have saved me a lot of frustrating hours).  Lesson one, sometimes it's easier to check the simplest solution first, that is, start from the beginning vs. starting at the end.  This would seem to be a no-brainer (i.e. if there's a power outage do yo...

    These spring mornings, the birds awaken me early since my wife and I sleep upstairs with the door and windows open, the air cool enough to give the room a slight chill but also add to a sound sleep.  At 4:30 or so they begin, their little chirps and songs growing ever more in number (and louder) by about 5:00 AM.  On some of those mornings I get out of bed and step outside to listen, almost feeling like an uninvited guest, an intruder trying not to break the silence of the moment; and every once in awhile I will find the moon partially hidden behind a gauzy sky and see the once-invisible gusts of wind become exposed by sheets and sheets of leaves in the trees.  They come like rogue waves, those gusts, the air still for just a bit then brushing over you like a large blanket being gently fluffed from the dryer, moving the trees ever so gracefully and forcing them into a dance, and leaving me puzzled as to how something this gentle is able to move these massive...

   Viewing some of the comments from earlier posts, I find it both fascinating and disheartening to realize that many of my views have parted ways with that of the younger generation.  Of course, this is a generalization because each of us, regardless of age, have our own views even among friends; but a surprising example of this gap was a 2018 poll of 1000 ten-to-nineteen-year olds conducted by the firm PerryUndem and noted in the new book by Peggy Orenstein, Boys & Sex : One third said they felt compelled to suppress their feelings, to "suck it up" or "be a man" when they were sad or scared, and more than 40 percent said that when they were angry, society expected them to be combative.  In another survey, which compared young men from the U.S., the U.K., and Mexico, Americans reported more social pressure to be ever-ready for sex and to get with as many women as possible; they also acknowledged more stigma against homosexuality, and they received more messages...

   The other day I composed a quick ditty based on the Beatles song, When I'm 64, its opening going this way: When I get fever, cough and a sneeze, thinking it's the flu; shove me in the bathroom make me sleep on the floor, slide that mask right under the door.  Then I feel better, give me the test, just to guarantee...Will you still need, intubate feed me, when I'm Covid-free.   The entire parody is out there somewhere, complete with apologies to the Fab Four; but what proved more surprising was the response from one of my friends with links to the Bohemian Rhapsody parody, the Wizard of Oz parody, the Sound of Music parody, and on and on (I was fearful to keep scrolling down).  My song was tongue-in-cheek and meant to lighten the mood a bit without taking anything away from the many families and workers actually suffering from this new virus.  But a glimpse at the number of videos of political views and decisions about whether to keep staying home or not...