We are a commune of inquiring, skeptical, politically centrist, capitalist, anglophile, traditionalist New England Yankee humans, humanoids, and animals with many interests beyond and above politics. Each of us has had a high-school education (or GED), but all had ADD so didn't pay attention very well, especially the dogs. Each one of us does "try my best to be just like I am," and none of us enjoys working for others, including for Maggie, from whom we receive neither a nickel nor a dime. Freedom from nags, cranks, government, do-gooders, control-freaks and idiots is all that we ask for.
Eastham, Wellfleet, and Truro aren't fancy. At least, they are not pretentious or social-climbing summer colonies. Nobody wears red pants or pants with whales on them, and even the rich folks inhabit very humble dwellings. Unlike the islands (Martha's Vineyard and Nantucket), you do not have to spend $10,000/week for summer rentals.
Nevertheless, tons of good fun family-friendly seafood restaurants, and lots of live music at night. It's altogether cheerful and jolly, full of happy, sunburned, and mostly attractive, fit, modest, and presentable folks (ie it ain't Snooki's Jersey Shore). Just right for me.
As much as I love the Farm in the Berkshire countryside, in the summer the sand and salt and piney woods and cheerful people and chilly water and seafood suit me best. Always will have a hold on my heart.
This old fishing and shipping village was in its heyday in the 1870s, when the train came through town. I believe this building began its life as a salt cod and shellfish warehouse - reader corrected me - a Lorenzo Dow Baker banana warehouse:
The Atlantic has an article this month with the title “Americans Want to Live in a Much More Equal Country (They Just Don’t Realize It).” I am always curious when intellectuals announce that the people (who in the American constitutional system serve as the sovereign power) don’t know what’s good for them (What’s the Matter with Kansas?) or don’t even know what they want.
Implicit in all of these revelations, of course, is the firmest, if never directly expressed, belief of the Left: That the average person is too stupid to run his own life, let alone make public policy decisions. Those few, those happy few, that band of liberal intellectuals, must do that for them.
The author of the Atlantic article, Dan Ariely—a professor of psychology and behavioral economics at Duke—divided the American population into quintiles according to wealth. He then asked a representative sample of more than 5,000 Americans to guess how the country’s wealth was distributed amongst these quintiles.
He doesn’t say exactly how he determined the population’s wealth. Are the hundreds of billions of dollars in union and government pension funds that will fund the retirement of millions of blue-collar and government workers considered an asset of those workers? I’d guess not.
You can rent kayaks cheap at Gull Pond. Gull Pond connects to two other ponds, so you can have a nice time paddling around for a few hours and jump in the water any time you feel too warm. You can bring a picnic, too. Entirely pleasant despite my aversion to unsalted water. Had a chat with a fellow there from Maine. Complained to me that the water was too warm to be refreshing, but his kids seemed to love it.
No powerboats are allowed on any Cape "ponds." That's a welcome community policy. They are really small lakes.
Neat thing about Wellfleet: Lakes, harbor, ocean and bay within a mile's drive or bike. Lots of different ways to play in the water. What else is there to do in the summer, besides reading books and playing tennis? August is my personal Robert Parker Fest.
Next trip, I will bring camera, rent a kayak, and paddle around Nauset Marsh in Eastham at high tide and check out the wildlife. Gosh, I sure do love being up there in the piney woods and the cool salty air. Thankful, too, that both of my parents can still enjoy it. Yes, my Mom still kayaks and chows down on Littleneck clams and Wellfleet Oysters. Dad is a bit too rickety for kayaks but his brain is as Yankee-acerbic as ever.
I missed young Carl's ("Buddy") several TV appearances on the weekend, but had a chance to attend an all-male dinner get-together with him at an excellent steak house's private dining room last night. Good fun, and a jolly good bunch of fellows. Brought the lad with me.
The restaurant staff stood in the back and listened with fascination.
Now that Buddy has retired from the Navy, he can say whatever he wants, and he sure does. SEALs do not worry about political correctness.
I notice that his book is #941 on Amazon. Not bad for a kid who hated school and just wanted to do things.
Mrs. BD and I listen to Teaching Company cds in the car. Well, it's called "Great Courses" now.
Best college course I ever sat in on is Bob Greenberg's How to Listen to and Understand Great Music. It's on sale now. I cannot express how absorbing and wonderful he is to listen to. It's life-changing, even for somebody musically-disabled like me.
Handel wrote Messiah - 50 gem-like and unforgettable tunes - in 24 days.
School education isn't everything in life. There are many important things to know that cannot be learned in school. As parents, we all try to ensure that our kids acquire basic life skills to help them enjoy life and to participate fully in life.
What makes life interesting is that all parents have different ideas about this.
Here's my first stab at making a list of the things we have expected our kids to know how to do - or at least to give it a good try - before turning 18 (guys and gals):
- Handle firearms safely - Ride and groom a horse - Play a musical instrument and sight-read - Achieve some level of competence with at least one sport which can be played throughout life - Learn CPR, and basic lifesaving, water safety, and mastery of basic swimming strokes - Handle a sailboat and a powerboat with at least basic safety and effectiveness - Display appealing and engaging table and cocktail party manners - Strong familiarity with our religion - whether they believe or not - Manage their own money safely, and learn how to save it - Internalize our (sub-) cultural codes of conduct, from dress codes to effective job interviewing - How to prune trees, hedges, and shrubs - How to cook a good number of basic foods - How to cut, split, and stack firewood - and for boys, chain saw expertise - How to start a fire - How to (try to) catch fish and shoot a duck or pheasant. And clean them, too. - How to handle a tractor safely on New England hills - Row a boat, paddle a canoe - How to identify at least basic plants, wildlife, habitat types, and rock formations - How to travel in foreign countries - Vegetable gardening - Drive a standard transmission vehicle, change the oil, check the anti-freeze, inflate tires - At least basic understanding of household basics like painting, power tools, hammers and screw-drivers, making cement, etc. - Know the basic laws, and how not to break them - Know how not to get lost in the woods, and use of a compass - How to select friends - How to be an informed citizen and to participate in one's community
That's a start. I know that some of it is somewhat culture-specific to our lives, but it seems to me that all of these would come in handy for anybody.
A primitive society confronted with an advanced civilization does not become civilized, it adopts some of the habits and facades of civilization in cargo cult fashion, it uses some of its tools, and hybridizes some of its ideas, but all this is done in pursuit of its existing goals. Everything that the Muslim Middle East has taken in from the civilized world has been used to pursue the same goals that it was pursuing a thousand years ago.
My older son turns 18 this year and heads off to Miami of Ohio. Sadly, he will not be home on his birthday, as classes begin that week. While discussing what he'd like for his birthday, we heard "I want to eat in a real Manhattan steak house". No argument from me.
There are plenty to choose from. Keen's, Smith & Wollensky, The Palm, Peter Luger (technically Brooklyn, but one of the originals), The Strip House, Sparks (I worked across the street from Sparks in 1985 and heard the shots that killed PaulCastellano - we all thought it was a car backfiring), Del Frisco's and The Old Homestead are all top notch. After some discussion, the choice was The Old Homestead as this is a classic, original New York steak house.
It seems to me that stories confer value, or at least meaning, generally. Not just to objects. The brain is a creative machine, as Eric Kandel says. We indeed live in stories: stories about ourselves, our families, books, movies, songs, legends.
My work is all about stories. I rarely worry about objective truth during my workday unless I am concerned about being lied to. My concern is with psychic themes and subtexts.
In my non-work life, I care a lot about truth and rebel against self-serving "narratives" presented to me in advertising, by politicians, or anywhere else. As a shrink, I have a pretty good BS Detector.
In my field of study, work, and interest, the wonderful Roy Schafer made a major contribution to the field by highlighting the analytic attitude towards the patient's story. He noticed that the life story, and the day's story, changes as maturity and insight develop. Donald Spence's Narrative Truth And Historical Truth condenses many of these themes.
Politicians, activists, and the like have learned the power of narrative from the Psychoanalysts and the authors, and bent its power to the dark side. Propaganda no longer has simple big lies. Now it has whole stories which appeal to emotion for self-serving purposes, usually money, and/or power over others.
Propaganda, whether commercial or political, now appears as manufactured story-lines. "Truthiness," and all of that. Mark Twain: "A lie can travel halfway round the world while the truth is putting on its shoes."
The solipsistic fallacy is that there is no truth, just psychological truth. While that is often the Psychoanalytic approach to the soul and mind of a patient, when applied to the real world it becomes insane, and possibly dangerous.
One reason we need to dine at Pearl on each visit to Cape Cod is because of Mrs. BD's addiction to their grilled Bluefin Tuna with wasabi bean crust. The Tuna are local.
I like Pearl for its raw bar (which every restaurant up there has), its marsh views, and to watch the bar scene. Plenty of other joints up there that we also enjoy. Who wants to spend time in the kitchen when away from home - unless you have a pile of little brats from whom the public should be protected?
When grilling or sauteeing (on high heat) Bluefin Tuna, I have a terrible tendency to overcook it. I think it's because it keeps cooking after you take it off the heat. Tuna should look as in the photo, like rare steak. Maybe a minute or so per side on high heat or red coals.
Here's the recipe. Sharp knife, thin slices. A little soy or teriyaki sauce on the side, lime on top.
By Election Day, there will be two stories about Mitt Romney. The one, which we have already heard from Team Obama, portrays Romney as a heartless capitalist. The other is a case still to be made, from Team Romney, that he is a pragmatic problem solver who understands the private economy and can fix it.
If a majority of voters think that Romney’s story is closer to the truth than Obama’s, then Mitt Romney will be elected the 45th President of the United States.
I had a chat with the owner of this Sakonnet 23, moored on the tidal flats in Wellfleet Harbor. In fact, I swam out to the mooring to see her up close and to chat with him one day last week when he was getting ready to go out for a sail. I was attracted to the classic, double-ender lines, and figured her to be a repro of an antique. Nope.
Here she is at low tide. That's a 1000 lb. half-keel. I think it's cool the way she stands on the keel when the tide goes out, holding the rudder out of danger.
Below the fold, pics of two of the most common Cape Cod boats -
She begins her post with this: "'The universe is made of stories, not atoms', poet Muriel Rukeyser famously remarked."
It's true enough to be a truism. We live by stories, in stories, telling stories.
Furthermore, atoms are stories too.
A simple ring supposedly owned by Jane Austen recently sold at auction for $236,000. Its value without the story? Probably a couple of hundred bucks. It's just as easy to think of stories which detract from value, eg the value of Jeffrey Dahmer's house.
Here they are, homeless, without a shell to squat under, yet they hold their heads high.
Can your species say the same, when the going gets tough?
Persecuted? And how. Pop a shell on it and suddenly it's escargot at $69 a plate. Remove the shell and it's the garden version of vermin. Please execute every one you see on sight.
Many slug species play an important ecosystem role by eating dead leaves, fungus, and decaying vegetable material. - Wikipedia
Yeah, good idea, kill all the slugs, let the decaying matter build up. Smart move, humanity.
I fought them for years while living in the middle of a Redwood forest. Once a month, I'd grab a big bag of rock salt and lay a perimeter around the building. But I never had anything against them personally. They were just gettin' by.
So, hail to thee, noble slug. Long may thy sliminess reign. Hold your head high in the face of bias, prejudice and blatant slugophobia, and remember, you are not alone. Look at the ugly, squint-eyed opossum. .22-rifle bait for any kid within a mile. Put some fluffy fur on a rat's tail and suddenly it's a cute widdle squirrel. This blatant prejudice runs rampant throughout the animal kingdom, and you must bear your share, noble slug, guilty of nothing more than being homeless.
On the other hand, no matter what the lofty price, being eaten for dinner doesn't sound like much of a fate, so maybe you're better off without the shell.
I missed young Carl's ("Buddy") several TV appearances on the weekend, but had a chance to attend an all-male dinner get-together with him at an excellent steak house's private dining room last night. Good fun, and a jolly good bunch of fellows. Brought the lad with me.
Review of the new 
One reason we need to dine at
A simple ring supposedly owned by Jane Austen recently 
Consider the noble slug.