Pigment

When you think about the differences in skin color amongst all humans, there are many. In America, except for some remote tribe in a yet to be discovered place, all variations of the world are present. None of us are pure blood. You question this, take a moment and send off to one of the many DNA testing services. Google it: DNA Ancestry.

For a reasonable fee, they’ll send you a kit to take a sample of your own DNA. You ship it back to them, and after a time a report is issued telling you what genetic markers are in your blood. You may have had an ancient ancestor who walked the coast of Ireland in the 1300’s. You may have an ancestor who marched with Alexander’s army, conquering the known world in 323 BC. You get the idea. I imagine many a skinhead would be shocked to know he had “tainted” blood of those races he despises.

The simple truth is we humans are more similar than we are different. I believe the same can be said for almost anyone in relation to almost anyone else.

The bench.

When I walk in the morning at the mall, one of the draws for me are the benchs placed on my path. They are sturdy, wooden benches of the type you have seen in well planned and maintained gardens. They are redish color, either because they are made from that color wood, or from a stain. Placed outdoors in a garden, they will turn to a lovely faded gray.

The picture above is not exactly what I see, but maybe one morning I will remember my camera and get an actual picture of the mall benches.

The bright and shining Dara Torres.

I wouldn’t say that I am a dedicated sports fan. I am a bit fanatical about watching the Redskins play and went so far as spending too much money for direct TV this past season. But I don’t have season tickets for U of L football or basketball and I don’t get into arguments with UK fans about which player is best. I’ll watch the playoffs for soccer on ESPN, but I don’t stay up till 1 a.m. to do it. I watch re-runs! As to golf, I agree with the saying; golf is a good walk ruined! I watch the final game where Tiger Woods wins again. As to the non “ball” sports, I seldom watch them.

Last week on a couple of evenings the network aired a full hour of qualifications for the spots on the American swim team. Dara Torres was beyond impressive. She won so many spots on so many meets; she is going to have to choose which to swim in as she’s eligible for eight! This is a woman who retired to have a child and came back to beat records! She’ll be competing in her fifth Olympics at the age of 41. One day soon, maybe already and I’m not aware, Olympiads will be over fifty.

Finally a bright and shining star in this summer of dull eyed reality at the gas pumps and grocery!

There are things I never see in blogs.

Punching that Next Blog button on the top of this page is like walking down an unfamiliar street and peeking inside the life of a stranger.

A large percentage of them are not in English. I’d estimate the majority are Spanish, though there are Chinese, Japanese, Russian, French, German; probably every modern and forgotten language there is. A person standing in front of a camera holding a birthday cake with blazing candles is a common theme, as is family blogs showing a very old relative sitting amongst younger relatives who seem amazed that this old person is still there.

There are the annoying blogs that show all the expensive and extensive improvements a couple has made to their home. They also display their cars and trucks and boats and RV’s. I wonder if I book marked that page, next year all that excess would be diminished? One thing about these renovation pages is there is never a picture of the failure. We don’t see the arguments with the contractors, the frustration of the workers not showing up, the shock of finding out the cost went up 100% in a month!

These past few days the family blogs showed mostly grilles with massive amounts of meat and hot dogs; tables heavy with the latest in fancy food prepared in the most modern of kitchens. It seems for many blogs are the bastardization of those long Christmas letters you got in years past, where the sender tells you all the wonderful things that have happened in their immediate family the past year. We don’t see the parent who didn’t get the kids this holiday because they had them for Easter, who on the 4th of July are in their small dark kitchenette boiling a couple of hot dogs for lunch.

You get the idea. Take a few minutes and cruise the Next Blog highway. One thing I can assure you will discover is that activity is a big waste of time, or isn’t.

Rain in the summertime.

Rainy days in July are wonderful things. What makes them wonderful for me is I don't mow my own yard. Today being a holiday, I didn't have to go out into the rain to get to work or run errands.

Our nation is in its 232nd year.

All the chatter around about here is of "What are you doing for the 4th?" Americans traditionally eat hot dogs and watch fireworks. This year especially, with everyone adjusting to the shock of gas and food prices, we're staying around home.

At the grocery Tuesday bags of 8 hot dog buns were on sale for 77 cents and a package of hot dogs was $1. Coke products were on sale at three 12 packs for $9 and you could buy just one. Potatoes were $3.29 for a ten pound bag. Looks like for about $8 you could do the traditional 4th of July picnic for a family for 4.

You don't need fireworks either. There's to be a concert with local talent and a major fireworks show downtown on the river. All Free! If you were to walk to Bardstown Road from here, a bus would take you right down there for $1.50. Going back home is another $1.50.

For that fantasy family of 4, the 4th of July would cost $5 each.

A point of view changes what you see.

I was reading blogs from college students on a dig in Israel yesterday afternoon and one described how they saw eagles. If you see the elevation of the site where they were digging, you can imagine the birds below.

These people saw the birds as eagles, though you can see it would be hard to tell the kind of bird with the haze and distance. Another at the same place believed them to be vultures. They saw the huge wingspan as they came in low.

A number of eagles were circling over
The valley below where we worked today.
Ancestors of birds who circled above
The heads of those who walked the
Stone paved streets we have revealed,
With pick axes to loosen earth, not open
To the sky for two thousand years, and
Hauling huge stones with our strong backs,
As we perch on this mountain high above,
Eagles or maybe it was hawks circle.

July 2, 2008