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.
Taking a little break from some heavy-duty, sweaty yard work to offer a kudo to the youngest pupette who has just completed an eight-week spell of 14-hour days since her return from Czecho, with the last two weeks 5 pm to 8 am in NYC - Harlem. Her second Indie film job, third major film job (she worked on The Avengers). A few other commercial film jobs too. Now wants to move to LA after graduation in the Spring. California is much cheaper than NYC.
I want my kids near, but they have to do what they have to do.
She got home from work in the city today at 10 am while we were at church. She is in bed right now. We admire hard work here and do not respect leisure too much - well, unless it is energetic. Which side of the camera does she like to be on? Either. Writing, camera, acting. All good. We will all hear from her one of these days. She is beautiful, tall, smart, deeply planful about life (as I have preached), and ambitious. Kids surprise you. Mystery seeds.
Later...Typical. She just woke up. 5 pm. Driving way down now to Brooklyn to film a live music performance of a friend's band for a late-nite ad and for Youtube. Williamsburg, Brooklyn, where the cool kids hang out these days. (In my time, Williamburg was all Hasidic Jews. Not now. How does she know how to get to Williamburg? Beats me. I do know how to get to Peter Lugar's, Junior's, and the BAM, but who doesn't?) Just had time to feed her some fancy Mexican take-out. Lobster chimichangas or something. She liked it. You just can't keep up with the kids today... The youth today are go-getters, Ayn Rand readers who like Ron Paul, think Obama is a twit for losers.
Maybe she will have time to rest when she gets back to school. But I doubt it. They are very demanding there, just like real life.
One cool thing about life: You get to set the speed of your own treadmill. I admire those who set it high, feel kinda sad about those who set it low.
It's the best stone- and brick-cleaner, but it has to be handled carefully. I am cleaning a hearth with it.
When you buy it, buy goggles and gloves. It's actually a solution of hydrochoric acid - same thing your stomach is full of.
You can't let it near bleach - the combo produces chlorine gas which will kill you. So it is fun to use. You really do not want it on your skin either.
Kids know that weirdos are weirdos. Life is not fair. Never was, never will be. I feel sorry for the outlier kids. Painful, but builds character. My kids generally have been embracing of the outliers.
The Killing - The battle to define Mitt Romney is over—and Romney lost
Too genteel to punch back? Should call them out as liars and as degrading politics. "Your campaign is disgusting and beneath the dignity of American politics. Shame on you."
6:35 Jesus said to them, "I am the bread of life. Whoever comes to me will never be hungry, and whoever believes in me will never be thirsty.
6:41 Then the Jews began to complain about him because he said, "I am the bread that came down from heaven."
6:42 They were saying, "Is not this Jesus, the son of Joseph, whose father and mother we know? How can he now say, 'I have come down from heaven'?"
6:43 Jesus answered them, "Do not complain among yourselves.
6:44 No one can come to me unless drawn by the Father who sent me; and I will raise that person up on the last day.
6:45 It is written in the prophets, 'And they shall all be taught by God.' Everyone who has heard and learned from the Father comes to me.
6:46 Not that anyone has seen the Father except the one who is from God; he has seen the Father.
6:47 Very truly, I tell you, whoever believes has eternal life.
6:48 I am the bread of life.
6:49 Your ancestors ate the manna in the wilderness, and they died.
6:50 This is the bread that comes down from heaven, so that one may eat of it and not die.
6:51 I am the living bread that came down from heaven. Whoever eats of this bread will live forever; and the bread that I will give for the life of the world is my flesh."
If the average American can’t handle complexity in his or her own life, and only government experts can … then government must direct the average American about how to live his or her life. Freedom becomes a diminishing good. But there’s a major flaw in this “progressive’” argument, and it’s this. It assumes there must be someone or some few who do have all the knowledge and information. We just have to find, train, and hire them to run the government’s agencies.
Friedrich Hayek called this collectivism’s “fatal conceit.” The idea that a few bureaucrats know what’s best for all of society, or possess more information about human wants and needs than millions of free individuals interacting in a free market is both false and arrogant. It has guided collectivists for two centuries down the road to serfdom — and the road is littered with their wrecked utopias. The plan always fails!
Late August, given heavy rain and sun For a full week, the blackberries would ripen. At first, just one, a glossy purple clot Among others, red, green, hard as a knot. You ate that first one and its flesh was sweet Like thickened wine: summer's blood was in it Leaving stains upon the tongue and lust for Picking. Then red ones inked up and that hunger Sent us out with milk cans, pea tins, jam-pots Where briars scratched and wet grass bleached our boots. Round hayfields, cornfields and potato-drills We trekked and picked until the cans were full, Until the tinkling bottom had been covered With green ones, and on top big dark blobs burned Like a plate of eyes. Our hands were peppered With thorn pricks, our palms sticky as Bluebeard's.
We hoarded the fresh berries in the byre. But when the bath was filled we found a fur, A rat-grey fungus, glutting on our cache. The juice was stinking too. Once off the bush The fruit fermented, the sweet flesh would turn sour. I always felt like crying. It wasn't fair That all the lovely canfuls smelt of rot. Each year I hoped they'd keep, knew they would not.
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:
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.
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.
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 -
The Science of How Music Enchants the Brain, Animated
John 6:35, 41-51
Rhino poachers
Blackberry Picking
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
