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.
Mike Rowe, who has plenty of life experience, had a good podcast yesterday about safety. I'd vote for him for president or for anything else.
His point is that "Safety First" is just a reminder to be careful. If people took "Safety First" seriously, nobody would drive a car or take an airplane trip, much less do all of the hazardous jobs (like fishing or construction) that people do.
If you actually live by "Safety First," you will not have much of a life.
It is immature to blame anybody for Acts of God, like hurricanes and diseases, but I'll go immature here to blame that guy Ferguson, and especially China for closing China to Wuhan city but letting the Wuhan people fly all over the world. Ferguson cried Fire in a crowded theater, and China seeded the world. "Accidentally on purpose?" We'll never know. Regardless, governments destroying our economies, I've decided, was an overreaction. This is not The Plague.
Rightly or wrongly, Trump and other national leaders took the advice of medical experts when they offered terrifying predictions.
Experts are of course fallible, but another problem with expertise is the tendency to view things through their specific lens. Safety experts, for example, might wish the max speed limit to be 35 mph. It would save many lives.
Last weekend was emptying a storage closet. 95% of what was in there ended in the trash. Even some good stuff, but never needed.
As in Babar, we found an old Father Christmas in there, and, stuffed in the furthest back under the eaves, two boxes of Christmas decorations and ornaments. Forgot we had them, but we do less-decorated Christmases these days.
Yesterday's project was the kitchen drawers. Just for a few examples, we found my wife's grandmother's walnut pasta rolling pin, her mother's rolling pin, and of course, ours. I think we have enough kitchen tools for three households. And I found two sets of meat-injectors (I guess I couldn't find the other one so bought a new one), and three basters. One steel, two plastic. Clearly, could not find a baster so got new.
And you know those great tongs you use to take pasta out of the pasta pot and dump directly into the sauce? We had three. The thing with cooking tools is that there are many of them that you use rarely, like meat thermometers or meat injectors, so they end up invisible in the backs of drawers, so you say the heck with it and just make do without.
Virus projects. We are not on any sort of phobic lockdown, but there aren't many places to go except for hikes and horses. Have we been home-cooking more? You betcha. Twice/week takeout from our favorite places, but otherwise, more.
We laid off 8 of our most effective employees last week. We are not sure we can remain a "going concern" after another month of this shutdown. No money coming in, no activity. We had about 40 employees in December, now down to 14. Painful to us partners, because we love these people and have relied on them for years. Like them, though, I just worry about my mortgage. That's my report from NYC today. A ghost town. Sad. I won't say what biz we are in, but it's neither finance nor real estate. We make useful things that businesses usually want.
I will not bore or annoy you all with what I am doing, but it's good, not perfect, but daily. Heavy deads this morning, in a pal's dark, cold garage. Watch the food intake!
I wonder how our readers are dealing with maintaining fitness and strength during this crazy time.
We should not be angered by what now seems like a panic-based response. Our leaders wanted to save lives because of apocalyptic predictions of a corona-carnage. But now we can’t seem to find the off switch — to find a way from transitioning from a national emergency that largely never came, thank God, to what should be a state of hard-nosed crisis management.
I am a fan of John Constable's work. I will admit this is something I picked up from my father, and something I continued on with while studying in London in 1983. I did several papers on his work that semester, and spent a great deal of time in the National Gallery. I will, quite selfishly, say I was very happy to have my father join me and my class as we did presentations on various pieces. That day I did a little piece on Constable's "The Hay Wain" and having him there made me very nervous.
So, I was very pleased when Mrs. Bulldog told me about the Frick Gallery's "Cocktails with a Curator" which featured Constable's "The White Horse" today (May 1, 2020). It's part of their series during the idiotic isolation. But I HIGHLY recommend this. It may be one of a few good things that come out of this waste of time. Please, if you like art, and even if you believe Frick was a jerk (as I do), it's worth watching.
My relationship with Constable took an interesting turn in 2018. Mrs. Bulldog and I were lucky enough to travel to London for Wimbledon. We went for a week, and she planned a 'literary walk' not unlike Maggies' Urban Hikes. It started with a walk through Hampstead Heath (a favorite Constable locale), to Kenwood House to view the artwork, then to The Spaniards Inn for a drink, and through Hampstead to see the homes of various great literary figures. Orwell, Keats, Waugh, Ian Fleming, Bram Stoker, among many others. One stop, for Stoker, was an old church at the end of Church Row in Hampstead. He wrote a good portion of Dracula while sitting in the church courtyard. H.G. Wells had also lived on Church Row.
At this point, you're asking "What's this got to do with Constable?" Well, that's the interesting part. In the church courtyard is a list of everyone buried there. I was most excited to learn John Harrison, the 'discoverer' of longitude was buried out front. (At this point, Mrs. Bulldog is saying "What a nerd I married") But also included on this list was John Constable! Sheer luck had led us to some rather interesting historic locations, and I was totally wrapped up in the moment. I was further pampered by getting to spend several hours in the National Gallery yet again, revisiting many of my old friends.
If you like art, please check out this series on YouTube. I promise it's worth your time, and make sure you have a cocktail in hand.
There have been times in my life when I would have preferred being a serf safely working a lord's cabbage fields instead of taking on all of the risks and responsibilities that I have done.
I tend to do most of my thinking in the morning shower where there are no welcome distractions. This morning, some of my thoughts had to do with virus panic and the desire for a risk-free life, if not a death-free life. Most of all of our ancestors were serfs, slaves, or something similar, for thousands of years.
Maybe it's dreams of childhood, or dreams of Eden, or some vision of utopia or Heaven that inspire. One thing diseases do is to remind us to be humble in the face of nature. Two days ago an asteroid passed close to earth, which could have eliminated much of civilization not to mention millions of humans.
Are governments supposed to have the powers to do the job of an all-powerful, merciful, and loving God? I kind-of thought so, or hoped so, in my youth, but no more. Life, even as a peaceful serf with others well-armed to protect me, was no free life. Relatively safe, but no freedom or opportunity.
Fears of injury, damage, financial ruin, or death? Most of us have those. Rightly so. But there is probably a Bell Curve (as with most things) of fearfulness and risk-aversion amongst humans. An ordinary pandemic, like the Hong Kong flu of 1968, or another Chinese bug of 2020, highlights that as you can probably see in the people you know. There is such a range of fear.
There is prudence of course, but in the end there is no safety in life if one lives with energy and adventurousness. The most dangerous things I do in life is to drive my car and tractor, ride my horses, and to invest.
If you want a risk-free life, try another planet or become a timid mouse.
A long read but worth every minute: 
Need a new hobby?
Photo: 5th Ave, 1880s 
I am a fan of John Constable's work. I will admit this is something I picked up from my father, and something I continued on with while studying in London in 1983. I did several papers on his work that semester, and spent a great deal of time in the National Gallery. I will, quite selfishly, say I was very happy to have my father join me and my class as we did presentations on various pieces. That day I did a little piece on Constable's "The Hay Wain" and having him there made me very nervous.