Happiness and the Ice Floes
This morning at dawn the outdoors temperature here read forty (40) degrees F. In light of what's been happening, this is pretty cool!
Yesterday my great, good neighbor G. came over to see if I had, in my extensive collection of old boards of many lengths and kinds left over from my many home-building projects, a tulip poplar board of certain dimensions, though, surprisingly, I didn't.
In the course of his short visit G. mentioned that he had been reading this weblog of mine, and he said that it shows that I am not a happy man. So this morning I report first thing on that temperature, which makes me quite happy.
Later I thought that I should have answered that if he thinks my weblog gives that impression, he should read other people's sites. What I did say was that speaking of things that bother you is one of the main purposes of writing a weblog, and he would definitely do the same if he had one. And if one cares at all about what's happening with other people in the world, and what's happening in the world even beyond humans, there's plenty to be unhappy about.
The Lake Erie ice floe incident yesterday illustrated that point perfectly.
In Ohio (G's beloved home state, by the way), doing something that they and their antecedents had always done, ice fishing, 100 of the more venturesome fishermen ignored the fact that things were warming up, and they went even farther out on the frozen Lake Erie than others, laying a makeshift bridge of plank boards across a fissure in the ice to do so. They reckoned that what could happen wouldn't happen because it hadn't happened so many times in the past. But, because in all likelihood a person only has one lifetime at his disposal, he shouldn't be too disposed to risk that one merely to get some fish that others are too wary -- and smart -- to try to grab.
So all up and down that shoreline a section of that ice eight (8) miles long suddenly broke off, and the planks all fell in the water and floated away, leaving this huge number of hardcore souls who always knew what they were doing up the well-known S. Creek without a bridge, and they had to yell at the tops of their voices for help -- those, that is, who weren't too proud and embarrassed to do so.
A flotilla of rescuers duly arrived, and only one of the strandees fell into the frigid water and drowned. But their saviors weren't too happy with having to do what absolutely had to be done, citing the great wastages of manpower and money involved, and we can expect that instead of pulling up more and bigger fish, those diehard anglers can expect to have to put down some sizable cash in recompense.
Ice floes are breaking off and floating away literally and figuratively wherever you look, with "smart" people stranded on them and having to bailed out at considerable coast and danger to the bailer-outers, and that kind of thing is what the most interesting weblogs are all about.
Yesterday my great, good neighbor G. came over to see if I had, in my extensive collection of old boards of many lengths and kinds left over from my many home-building projects, a tulip poplar board of certain dimensions, though, surprisingly, I didn't.
In the course of his short visit G. mentioned that he had been reading this weblog of mine, and he said that it shows that I am not a happy man. So this morning I report first thing on that temperature, which makes me quite happy.
Later I thought that I should have answered that if he thinks my weblog gives that impression, he should read other people's sites. What I did say was that speaking of things that bother you is one of the main purposes of writing a weblog, and he would definitely do the same if he had one. And if one cares at all about what's happening with other people in the world, and what's happening in the world even beyond humans, there's plenty to be unhappy about.
The Lake Erie ice floe incident yesterday illustrated that point perfectly.
In Ohio (G's beloved home state, by the way), doing something that they and their antecedents had always done, ice fishing, 100 of the more venturesome fishermen ignored the fact that things were warming up, and they went even farther out on the frozen Lake Erie than others, laying a makeshift bridge of plank boards across a fissure in the ice to do so. They reckoned that what could happen wouldn't happen because it hadn't happened so many times in the past. But, because in all likelihood a person only has one lifetime at his disposal, he shouldn't be too disposed to risk that one merely to get some fish that others are too wary -- and smart -- to try to grab.
So all up and down that shoreline a section of that ice eight (8) miles long suddenly broke off, and the planks all fell in the water and floated away, leaving this huge number of hardcore souls who always knew what they were doing up the well-known S. Creek without a bridge, and they had to yell at the tops of their voices for help -- those, that is, who weren't too proud and embarrassed to do so.
A flotilla of rescuers duly arrived, and only one of the strandees fell into the frigid water and drowned. But their saviors weren't too happy with having to do what absolutely had to be done, citing the great wastages of manpower and money involved, and we can expect that instead of pulling up more and bigger fish, those diehard anglers can expect to have to put down some sizable cash in recompense.
Ice floes are breaking off and floating away literally and figuratively wherever you look, with "smart" people stranded on them and having to bailed out at considerable coast and danger to the bailer-outers, and that kind of thing is what the most interesting weblogs are all about.
posted by Carl (aka Sofarsogoo) | 7:13 AM
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