20 years ago you would be hard put to find any Striped Bass up here. The return of the Stripers is a fish conservation success story, which involved cleaning up the Atlantic estuaries in which they breed (especially the Chesapeake area, and the Hudson River) and banning commercial fishing for them. One positive result: Farming bass.

Some of our pals went fishin' a week ago with Captain Bruce out of New London, CT:

With the end of humankind (and of our beloved planet itself) rapidly approaching unless we do something immediately if not sooner, Maggie's Farm has decided to quit talking about the crisis and to start acting. We are taking action in ways that go beyond the virtuous posturing and tokenism (we call it "Lightbulbing") that we see on other websites.

Here are the things we are doing to make a difference:

1. As of today, we have discontinued the popular print edition of Maggie's Farm. Henceforth, Maggie's will only be available online. (If you are reading this in our final print edition, double-click here on the page with your index finger.) This change will save countless acres of pristine virgin forests and and eliminate CO2 production from our fleet of gas-guzzling delivery vehicles, such as this one:

2. See our site's background color? It's a new shade of Green. This will inspire all of our readers to Go Green! Let's start a trend for other sites to switch to an

Earth-Friendly Green!

3. We are going nuclear. Because of the new availability of yellowcake uranium from Saddam's stash, we are in the process of installing a small, air-cooled homemade reactor in the basement to provide all our our power needs. If it works, we'll soon be off the grid!

4. Trees are a major source of CO2 pollution. Therefore we will invite loggers to clear-cut another 30 acres of the farm's property, converting it to fields on which we will grow corn for Ethanol. I see $$$ in going green this way. Your tax dollars by the bushel, flowing to Maggie's Farm! Money is Green!

5. International travel, with its polluting airplanes and ships, is a big problem (except for those necessary trips by people spreading the word about global catastrophe). We are determined that, in the future, any second international recreational trip we take in one year will be by sail:

6. "Cork me." Cow farts are a major threat to the planet with their warmening gasses. Our patented and trademarked "CowCork" wil be used on our entire herd of cattle.

7. Farm nudity. We have decided to go nude on the farm this summer. This both strikes a blow against Big Clothing corporations and their exploitative sweatshops and their extortionist prices, while reducing the fossil fuel consumption required in clothing production and transportation. Take Off Those Overalls and Save the Earth!

8. Green beer. It's not just for St. Patrick's Day anymore. We will commit to drinking green beer daily, if not hourly.

9. Clean vehicle fuel. Because we have heard so much about how engines can run on water (a fact which a conspiracy between Bush-Cheney and Big Oil is concealing from us), all of our trucks and tractors will be run on water - beginning today. Water is a cheap, clean-burning fuel, and there is lots of it out there going to waste, monotonously and pointlessly lapping against the shore. Fill 'er up!

Getting there is half the fun. We decided to go to see the famous 20th century botanical gardens of Villa Taranto the hard way, hiking overland and up over the hill on the peninsula from the Pallanza ferry dock. As it turned out, our map wasn't as clear as it could have been, and it took us about two hours but, in the process, we stumbled onto some neat stuff. Thus there is a strong case to be made for leaving the beaten path when travelling, and letting yourself get a bit lost. Maybe that applies to life in general.

For example, we found this 1000 year-old church on a dead-end, on top of the hill overlooking Pallanza. I wrote the name down, but cannot find that scrap of paper.

 More photos of this hike on continuation page:

Our Barrister must have a prosperous pal because the lines of that boat in his photo are pure Hinckley. (It's a good post, too.) In the Northeast, on salt water, few small power boats are more admired than the modestly-named and understatedly-designed Hinckley Picnic Boat. These peppy, preppy boats have a jet water drive, can be maneuvered with an un-nautical joystick instead of a wheel, draw only 18" because there is no prop, can get up to 29 knots and cruise at 25, can turn on a dime, and can stop in two boat lengths by reversing the jets. There is plenty of power and hi-tech engineering in that streamlined lobster boat:

Here's the Popular Mechanics piece on the Picnic Boat. Here's a used one, for sale. 

Wonderful toys. I admire them, but don't really want one because I wouldn't find the time to use it her enough to justify the substantial price tag. If you want something a bit larger but with the same jet drive, there's the stunning Hinckley 44' Talaria, reviewed here:

That photo I took ain't too bad. It does capture the feel of this charming place. On June 20th we rented a little two-door Lancia and drove west over the mountains from Lake Maggiore to the smaller Lake Orta, mainly to visit the antique and highly photogenic village of San Giulio (Saint Julius, in English), and to take a water taxi out to look at Isola San Giulio with its ancient church and active Benedictine monastery. (We will post separately on the church, because its artwork is so interesting. And the saint himself lies in there, under glass, visible in gilded splendor. I would not take a photo of that.)

Most of the streets of San Giulio are too narrow for cars, and they don't allow cars in anyway (except for deliveries). However, there is actually a parking garage up the hill for visitors.

The village has at least a handful of medieval buildings - the only definitely medieval buildings we saw on our trip (other than churches and towers). Major urban renewal took place in Europe during the 15th to 17th centuries.

This village also has the best trattorias we encountered.

We saw one guy taking modeling photos. She was an edgy-looking girl, from the front:

 More photos of this side trip on continuation page below:

Avon, CT (pop. 17,000) in the Farmington River Valley (up towards The Barrister's neck of the woods), was a quaint, semi-rural semi-distant Hartford suburb until the highways came and the prosperous moved further from downtown Hartford. 

Avon's schools rank #1 in CT, largely because of its homogeneous middle-upper and upper-middle class population (a town's school "performance" correlates exactly with parental education and income, rendering school comparisons meaningless). Wiki notes that Avon was listed as one of the preppiest places in the United States in the 1980s best-seller The Official Preppy Handbook. A guy can still wear plaid pants or Nantucket Red in Avon without getting stared at, or shot.

With growing prosperity and suburban sprawl, towns like Avon have lost their cornfields and woodlands and chicken farms and dairy pastures. At the risk of sounding like an obnoxious snob, those cornfields have been replaced by graceless architectural abominations - with no relationship or sensitivity to place, proportion, local history, or taste - like these below (many more here and here), currently priced in the $800,000-4,000,000 range, and usually on about 1-acre lots:

Mrs. BD thought there might be some interest in the subject of growing perennials - rather than annuals - in your containers. It's a bit late in the season to post this, but I will do so anyway, and re-post it next May, God willing.

Since it might cost $50 to pack a good-sized container with annuals, and since perennials are generally more attractive and interesting, it might be worth a try. We have occasionally been happily surprised to see perennials in containers coming back to life in Spring. The trick is overwintering them.

Here's a site that explains it all.

Photo is one of my containers, filled with about $40 of annuals. Should have tried some perennials.

When reflecting on my re-post yesterday on Lionel Trilling, I realized that I had neglected to reference what is perhaps his most-read work, The Liberal Imagination. It's still worth reading:

“The Liberal Imagination (1950) applied the dialectical method to cultural themes by exploring the ways in which literary masterworks deflated the pieties of trendy left-wing politics. Trilling, who identified himself as a liberal, called for a new kind of criticism that 'might find its most useful work not in confirming liberalism in its sense of general rightness but rather in putting under some degree of pressure the liberal ideas and assumptions of the present time.' That statement was almost a blueprint, or prophecy, of the neoconservative creed.” –The New York Times

And my allusion to Jacques Barzun, who as far as I know is still alive and retired in Texas, reminded me to reference his sweeping book, From Dawn to Decadence: 500 Years of Western Cultural Life 1500-Present. Via Amazon:

From Publishers Weekly

Now 92, Barzun, the renowned cultural critic, historian and former Columbia provost and professor, offers much more than a summation of his life's work in this profound, eloquent, often witty historical survey. A book of enormous riches, it's sprinkled with provocations. For example, Barzun contradicts Max Weber, arguing that the Protestant Reformation did not galvanize the capitalist spirit. With feminist ardor, he depicts the 16th century as molded and directed by women "as brilliant as the men, and sometimes more powerful" (e.g., Queens Elizabeth and Isabella). His eclectic synthesis is organized around a dozen or so themes--including emancipation, abstraction and individualism--that in his judgment define the modern era. Barzun keeps up the momentum with scores of snappy profiles, including of Luther, Erasmus, Cromwell, Mozart, Rousseau and Byron, as well as of numerous unsung figures such as German educator Friedrich Froebel, inventor of kindergarten, and turn-of-the-century American pioneer ecologist George Marsh. Other devices help make this tome user-friendly--the margins are chock-full of quotes, while vignettes of Venice in 1650, Weimar in 1790 and Chicago in 1895 give a taste of the zeitgeist. In Barzun's glum estimate, the late 20th century has brought decadence into full bloom--separatism in all forms, apathetic electorates, amoral art that embraces filth or mere shock value, the decline of the humanities, the mechanization of life--but he remains hopeful that humanity will find its way again. This is a book to be reckoned with. First serial to American Scholar; BOMC selection.

Both books well-worth reading, if you haven't.

Would either of these great Columbia profs, who knew almost everything about almost everything, be welcomed on any campuses today?

We re-post this essay by Gertrude Himmelfarb each year. One quote, on the thoughtful Columbia guy Lionel Trilling's thoughts about T.S. Eliot:

Marxism was not the only thing that Trilling (by way of Eliot) called into question. He challenged liberalism as well. Totalitarianism, Eliot had said, was inherently "pagan," for it recognized no authority or principle but that of the state. And liberalism, far from providing an alternative to paganism, actually contained within itself the seeds of paganism, in its materialism and relativism. Only Christianity, Eliot argued--the "Idea" of Christianity, not its pietistic or revivalist expressions--could resist totalitarianism, because only Christianity offered a view of man and society that promoted the ideal of "moral perfection" and "the good life." "I am inclined," Trilling quoted Eliot, "to approach public affairs from the point of view of the moralist."

Trilling hastened to qualify his endorsement of Eliot in "Elements That Are Wanted"; he did not believe morality was absolute or a "religious politics" desirable. But Eliot's vision of morality and politics was superior to the vision of liberals and radicals, who had contempt for the past and worshiped the future. Liberals, in the name of progress, put off the realization of the good life to some indefinite future; radicals put off the good life in the expectation of a revolution that would usher in not only a new society but also a new man, a man who would be "wholly changed by socialism."

Marxism was especially dangerous, Trilling found, because it combined "a kind of disgust with humanity as it is and a perfect faith in humanity as it is to be."

A "new man" was all the rage for those who wanted me to be just like they weren't - but who wanted people like me to become some subservient but heroic prole they fantasized about. They were just the new version of the same "old men" of history - self-anointed for "virtue" and "wisdom," and seeking power and perks on our backs and on our nickel while they spun their grand theories. I think they forgot that proles like me learned to read in the meantime.

Eliot, and Trilling, knew otherwise.

Photo: Lionel Trilling. As demanding a Prof as you could ever have.

The equally-great Jacques Barzun was out of that same mold: dignified, formal, remote, but willing to give you two chances to prove that you weren't a complete idiot and just an educated fool. No tolerance for fools, and these guys had a radar for glib assertions, shallow sentiment, and cant - and for out-of-context quotes. Academic boot camp is what these guys offered you.

Stumbled into this Teddy Roosevelt web site recently. Teddy is a hero and a role model to many because of his overcoming illness as a youth, his adventures in the West, his wide range of interests, his voluminous writings on all subjects from hunting and natural history to policy (he published more books than any other President), his robust approach to life which allowed him to gallop his horse straight down the sand dunes of Oyster Bay and straight up San Juan Hill, and to hike through the chest-deep ice-covered Rock Creek in January as President, often with diplomats in tow. Not to mention his achievements as President, from negotiating the truce in the Russo-Japanese War, projecting American power world-wide, championing conservation, and championing economic justice for workers. The two Edmund Morris volumes tell it all, down to the details of Teddy's wacky tennis game and his remarkable skills as a rifleman, despite poor eyesight. This bird-watching family man with the high squeaky voice, a fine pedigree but chronic money problems, and a giant faith in America, was larger than life.

It's well-known that folks from the NY Metropolitan area rarely or never visit their own tourist attractions, but a visit to Roosevelt's relatively modest home, Sagamore Hill, in Oyster Bay on Long Island (not far from NYC) is a good outing. Little has changed there since his death, except, sadly, for the selling off of much of his farm, which originally extended down to the shores of Long Island Sound. Read the Sagamore Hill sites here and here before you go, because tickets sell out.

Photo of Teddy as NYC Police Commissioner around 1895.

Our friend Nathan, whose Aliyah Diary you may recall on this site and who now is based in Jerusalem, gets around. He sent this email note to us yesterday:

Who'da thunk that in Sioux Falls, South Dakota, the Region VII meeting of the American Guild of English Bell Ringers would meet today?  Sioux Falls, ground out by the Sioux River well after the Permian-Triassic, has quartzite boulders that churn-up the river waters which were unable to wear them out 10,000 years ago. Pipestone, used for peace pipes, and cordovan-tinted quartzite remain here. You can go to the remains of the Falls just south of downtown to stroll and be sprayed by the Falls. Best to go when the wind is Southerly, as a Northerly summer wind will suffocate you with the stench of carcasses from one of the largest packing plants in the US. While levees are undermined or overflowed in bordering Iowa and Missouri, the quartzite here holds up to the tumultuous torrents.

But bell ringing? I slipped into the rehearsal last night around 830, after they had heard a performance by the group from England. The night before, the hotel manager revealed to me, the Brits had gathered for tea around 10 pm in the cafe at the base of the Hyatt-like atrium. Then, they burst into music, filling nearby empty wine glasses with carefully aliquoted water, then rim-ringing the glasses.  A glass harmonica they transformed into. This high-pitch rose in the atrium and arose the other denizens of the Sioux Falls  Sheraton, who generally dress cowpokey. The manager, a sliver-coiffed Mr. Russo, who dresses in stylish Italian silk and tassled loafers, quietly grumbled that he has had to toss rowdy drinkers from the atrium. But, tea-drinkers, Tea? Russo was incredulous.

Nevertheless, by Thursday night, the bellers were gathered in the nearby conference center, which, in fact, is an indoor sports stadium with signs for "Ticket Purchase" or Ticket Pick-up" and "No Outside Liquor Permitted" guarding the entrance. I was porting my J. Lohr Cabernet, which I could not finish at dinner and no one challenged me. But, there was no booze being served here. Perhaps tea later.

Here are just a few of my observations and thoughts about our trip to northern Italy:

1. There must be a law that, in settled areas, there can be no spot from which one cannot hit a Gelateria with a stone.

2. Essentially no American visitors up there. Lots of Scandinavians, Germans, Swiss and Brits - and Italians from the south. Plus some French and Japanese. A small handful of American honeymooners. All of the trattorias have some German stuff on the menu, like wiener schnitzel with French fries.

3. Never eat a pizza in Italy, except maybe around Naples. The Italians make terrible pizza. Domino's is far better, and Domino's ain't so good. The Dyl says that the California Pizza chain is the best, California Pizza Kitchen or whatever it is called. They should open some in Italy.

4.  The driver who drove us to the airport in Milan (who had been a sous-chef in London in a previous life and who is planning a trip to Montana in September) brought us up to date on the Wall Street arrests. He said that the Italians were mightily impressed. "Here," he said, "businessmen and politicians never get arrested. That is why we have no trust in our institutions."

5. The microclimate around the large lakes of the Piedmont permits the growing of palms and citrus within view of snow-capped Alps. Quite unique. You can grow anything there, hence all of the famous gardens.

6. Internet access there is a major pain. They don't seem to have wireless anywhere, and the hotels charge you between 15-22 Euros per hour to use their half-assed and temperamental connections.

7. It was great fun to hang out with the Dyl. He has big energy and a strong sense of adventure, and his Italian came in handy at times, too. He beat me at chess on one of those outdoor giant-size boards you can walk on, on the edge of Lago Maggiore. I played White: my attack was overly aggressive and I stubbed my toe with my bishop. He knows how to exploit somebody's error.

More observations to come over the next week or so...and more photos, including ones from our side trip into the Italian Alps.

Here's one of the albino peacocks that inhabit the Borromeo islands, perched on an urn in the rain in the incredible gardens of Isola Bella. The cliche "proud as a peacock" is not without merit. The baroque style Italian gardens of Isola Bella are among the most famous gardens in the world, and parts of them are reminiscent (I think) of the hanging gardens of Babylon.

More photos of Isola Bella below:

A re-post from the archives:

It feels very bad to me to know that the fate of the Everglades is in the hands of the notoriously and historically disreputable Miami-Dade County Commissioners.  I'd like to hope that their bad days are past.

It's tough to be an ideological purist in real life. I've known Libertarians who went nuts when a neighbor put in a tennis court too close to his property line. And it is true that we all have a stake in the land. Developers, and the folks they sell to - homeowners and stores and businesses - will always want more if there is profit in it; conservationists will always want more of which to be good stewards; farmers - and I don't mean small family farms in Fla - will always want what they need. So it's always a battle for conservationists. (I don't mean environmentalists, whatever they are.)

My solution tends to be to urge groups to assemble themselves to buy up land, or to buy up the development rights to land, if they want to protect and preserve it for the future. States, land trusts, conservation groups, ad hoc groups with an interest in a specific piece of land. This can be done without a sacrifice of property rights.

BUT it is best done BEFORE there is economic pressure on the land. Unfortunately, people tend to be of the Big Yellow Taxi school: "You don't know what you got til it's gone. You take paradise, put up a parking lot."

I have no doubt that one of my literary heroes, Carl Hiassen, is on the story. I missed him on 60 Minutes last week, but was told that he is as funny in person as he is in print. If you haven't read him, especially his early handful of books, they are absurdist, black humor mysteries set in South Florida, with memorably strange characters, many of them deeply depraved, corrupt, and plain evil.

Carl cares about conservation and he loves Florida, and, bless his heart, he remains a reporter in Miami, so I will count on him to take care of this story, and this problem.

Our post on how flies manage to land on ceilings a while ago was such a hit that it inspired me to do another fly post.

In the fall Cluster Flies head for houses to spend the winter in dormancy. When you turn on the heat, they wake up and clamber around disgustingly, often in clusters around windows.

When that happens to us, we get out ye olde vacuum cleaner.

You can read about their natural history here (they leave their winter shelter and lay their eggs on earthworm holes at this time of year. Their maggots live on earthworms).