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.
Mrs. BD and I went down to NYC yesterday to see The Pearl Theater Company's production of Part 1. Matinee, sold out house.
Their new digs are way over on the west end of 42nd St. We admire their efforts to run an acting company with its own theater, given the competition with hundreds of Off-Broadway and Off-Off Broadway theaters in NYC, very few with their own acting companies. (Along with the Classic Stage Company, we support them with modest donations.)
I am amazed by the number of fancy apartment towers that have emerged in that once-seedy area - "Hell's Kitchen" district, more or less. Used to be all street hookers and drug dealers, and now it's parents with kids in strollers with their dogs, even in the evening:
Over an early northern Italian dinner at the tiny, cozy Gallo Nero, Mrs. BD and I discussed whether the play - chock full of eternal quotes (eg "If all the year were playing holidays, To sport would be as tedious as to work" - is a coming of age play, or a comedy featuring Falstaff with some sword-fights and wars for tension.
My theory is that Shakespeare was an entertainer, a screenwriter, who would do anything to sell tickets. Throw in some sword fights, family conflicts, a king and some nobles, some thieves, a jester, a tavern wench, some human emotions, and see what happens. Just happened to be a genius writer/thinker too. When he made enough money (and he made plenty), he just retired from theater.
Despite the obnoxious Nanny Bloomberg, NYC sure seems to be thriving, clean, cheerful, safe, and busy. Just a wonder to me, always. So many good-looking people, too. If I were a little rich, I'd buy a brownstone there somewhere, rent out the top 2 floors, and keep the garden floor and the first floor as a pied a terre. That would be fun. We country and suburban folk need an escape once in a while, an escape to where the action is. Gee whiz, I really do love banging around Manhattan and I am fortunate to have a Mrs. who drags me in at least monthly, or more, to do interesting, stimulating things to prevent mental/cultural/spiritual decay.
Around here, we have seen many older people retire by buying a 6-month + 1 day place in a low tax state (FL, NH, SC, etc) and a place in the city. I like to remain rooted in my community, but I think that sounds cool.
By the way, Mrs. BD strongly recommends the series In Search of Shakespeare on Netflix. Enjoyable.
Government is failing spectacularly at its core functions, such as budgeting and educating. Yet it continues to multiply its peripheral and esoteric responsibilities, tasks that require it to do things for which it has no aptitude, such as thinking and making common-sense judgments. Government nowadays is not just embarrassing, it is — let us not mince words — inappropriate.
Feel free to punch holes in his argument, but based on his examples it seems to work dramatically - watch his example in Mexico. A guy who exterminated 40,000 elephants by mistake deserves to be listened to.
On a micro, non-desertification level, I have noticed that the quality of the grasses on one of our 50-acre fields at the farm has deteriorated visibly since we have not had cattle there. Of course, our New England meadows are naturally woodlands and not natural grasslands.
15:1 Now all the tax collectors and sinners were coming near to listen to him.
15:2 And the Pharisees and the scribes were grumbling and saying, "This fellow welcomes sinners and eats with them."
15:3 So he told them this parable:
15:11b "There was a man who had two sons.
15:12 The younger of them said to his father, 'Father, give me the share of the property that will belong to me.' So he divided his property between them.
15:13 A few days later the younger son gathered all he had and traveled to a distant country, and there he squandered his property in dissolute living.
15:14 When he had spent everything, a severe famine took place throughout that country, and he began to be in need.
15:15 So he went and hired himself out to one of the citizens of that country, who sent him to his fields to feed the pigs.
15:16 He would gladly have filled himself with the pods that the pigs were eating; and no one gave him anything.
15:17 But when he came to himself he said, 'How many of my father's hired hands have bread enough and to spare, but here I am dying of hunger!
15:18 I will get up and go to my father, and I will say to him, "Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you;
15:19 I am no longer worthy to be called your son; treat me like one of your hired hands."'
15:20 So he set off and went to his father. But while he was still far off, his father saw him and was filled with compassion; he ran and put his arms around him and kissed him.
15:21 Then the son said to him, 'Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you; I am no longer worthy to be called your son.'
15:22 But the father said to his slaves, 'Quickly, bring out a robe--the best one--and put it on him; put a ring on his finger and sandals on his feet.
15:23 And get the fatted calf and kill it, and let us eat and celebrate;
15:24 for this son of mine was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found!' And they began to celebrate.
15:25 "Now his elder son was in the field; and when he came and approached the house, he heard music and dancing.
15:26 He called one of the slaves and asked what was going on.
15:27 He replied, 'Your brother has come, and your father has killed the fatted calf, because he has got him back safe and sound.'
15:28 Then he became angry and refused to go in. His father came out and began to plead with him.
15:29 But he answered his father, 'Listen! For all these years I have been working like a slave for you, and I have never disobeyed your command; yet you have never given me even a young goat so that I might celebrate with my friends.
15:30 But when this son of yours came back, who has devoured your property with prostitutes, you killed the fatted calf for him!'
15:31 Then the father said to him, 'Son, you are always with me, and all that is mine is yours.
15:32 But we had to celebrate and rejoice, because this brother of yours was dead and has come to life; he was lost and has been found.'"
As we often mention here, the (eventual but inevitable) global cooling is a far greater threat than any global warming. The most recent glacial insursion had Manhattan Island under a mile of ice.
You shall hear how Hiawatha Prayed and fasted in the forest, Not for greater skill in hunting, Not for greater craft in fishing, Not for triumphs in the battle, And renown among the warriors, But for profit of the people, For advantage of the nations.
First he built a lodge for fasting, Built a wigwam in the forest, By the shining Big-Sea-Water, In the blithe and pleasant Spring-time, In the Moon of Leaves he built it, And, with dreams and visions many, Seven whole days and nights he fasted.
On the first day of his fasting Through the leafy woods he wandered; Saw the deer start from the thicket, Saw the rabbit in his burrow, Heard the pheasant, Bena, drumming,
Heard the squirrel, Adjidaumo, Rattling in his hoard of acorns, Saw the pigeon, the Omeme, Building nests among the pinetrees, And in flocks the wild-goose, Wawa, Flying to the fen-lands northward, Whirring, wailing far above him. "Master of Life!" he cried, desponding, "Must our lives depend on these things?"
On the next day of his fasting By the river's brink he wandered, Through the Muskoday, the meadow, Saw the wild rice, Mahnomonee, Saw the blueberry, Meenahga, And the strawberry, Odahmin, And the gooseberry, Shahbomin, And the grape.vine, the Bemahgut, Trailing o'er the alder-branches, Filling all the air with fragrance! "Master of Life!" he cried, desponding, "Must our lives depend on these things?"
The entire poem, a collection of Algonquin Indian myths, here, with a little commentary. Read it outloud to your kids or spouse. They will never forget it.
Photo is Augustus Saint-Gaudens' (1848-1907) Hiawatha, marble, Metropolitan Museum of Art, NYC
Funny how lucky Lefties always get with their investments. Everybody still wonders how Harry Reid has $10 million after a life in "government service."
“I've missed more than 9000 shots in my career. I've lost almost 300 games. 26 times, I've been trusted to take the game winning shot and missed. I've failed over and over and over again in my life. And that is why I succeed.”
One woman with 
Some Ivy League Students 
An excerpt from The Song of Hiawatha:
