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Personal Fun

♪ All The Grass Is Green ♪

May 13, 2022 by Jim Leave a Comment

Photo by Peg Redwine

I like brown grass. It matches the unfallen brown leaves I don’t have to rake and the brown stagnant water in the pond that hides my fish from the ravenous blue heron. Also, brown grass does not engender chiggers. Ah, chiggers, Mother Nature’s reminder that we humans are, in fact, at the top of the insect world’s food pyramid. Here’s how the internet waxes eloquent about chiggers:

“They bite their human host (who invited them?) and by embedding their mouthparts into the skin

cause intense irritation with intense itching.” Ugh!

The omniscient internet says chiggers prosper in grasslands, like the Osage County, Oklahoma prairie, and are most numerous in early summer when grass is heaviest; you know, like now! I have been doing my own field work on chiggers since the mowing season has returned. I can attest that for once the internet is correct; chiggers proliferate in tall green grasses.

My ankles still display chigger bites from those halcyon childhood summer days when I would gayly traipse through the green prairie grasses in short pants and bare feet while the chiggers were rejoicing at the opportunity to embed their heads permanently into my skin and scar me physically and mentally for eternity. Surely someone should have kept me out of tall green grass for the first ten years of my life and surely I should not be communicating with chiggers now as beautiful dry brown grass turns into tall green chigger heaven.

Unfortunately, I cannot convince Peg our yard looks just fine with waving green stems interspersed with golden dandelions. She insists that I do battle with the vegetation that is being protected by battalions of chiggers as ferocious as Ukrainian freedom fighters. I don’t get it. Peg plants countless flowers and even decorative grasses while she insists I attack our yard with a smoking, noisy grass decapitating Kubota dragon. No wonder the chiggers launch counter attacks. I say let bygones be bygones. I’ll forgive those childhood chiggers if today’s marauders will leave me alone. But how can they if Peg demands I destroy their homes?

I say the blames for my chigger discomfort falls squarely upon Peg’s pathological need to impress the neighbors. Neighbors? We live in the country! Our cabin is a quarter of a mile from the main county road. Nobody ever sees our yard unless you count FedEx and UPS drivers who deliver Peg’s ever regenerating plants for her to plant and the chiggers to nest in. If I did not mow the yard all summer no one would see or care; well, except Peg of course.

But the real problem is not Peg. The real problem is the United States government that can send out trillions of borrowed dollars to encourage people not to work and trillions of borrowed dollars to help Ukrainians blow up Russian tanks, planes and ships but cannot spend a Depression Era dime to eliminate chiggers. It is time we returned to those thrilling days of yesteryear when instead of spreading armaments we spread insect killer, not DDT, of course.

Let’s hear it for dead chiggers and live, itch-free people. That’s a better campaign slogan than “Ban the U.S. Supreme Court” or “Raise a statue to Sammy Alito.” Well, excuse me a moment. I’ve got to go get Peg to type up this column for the paper and I can see out the window she is gleefully planting even more insect habitat.

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Filed Under: Females/Pick on Peg, Gavel Gamut, JPeg Osage Ranch, Oklahoma, Osage County, Personal Fun Tagged With: blue heron, brown grass, brown leaves, brown stagnant water, chiggers, James M. Redwine, Jim Redwine, Osage County prairie, Peg, plants, Samuel Alito, U.S. Supreme Court, Ukrainian Freedom Fighters

Good Things Come With Time

April 29, 2022 by Jim Leave a Comment

Photo by Peg Redwine

As did Athena, the goddess of wisdom who sprung full grown from the head of Zeus, occasionally a Mozart-type creative genius is born into the world already with great mental acuity. But most people only develop wisdom over a substantial amount of time. That is why virtually every culture honors its older citizens, not because they have lived a long time but because they may have accumulated knowledge and may possess sound judgment as a result. Of course, good judgment often is earned the hard way, that is, in response to earlier bad decisions. If one survives enough poor choices, better choices and better advice become more likely.

When it comes to good choices, I have been impressed by the simplicity of the dietary decisions of two elderly women. France’s Jeanne Louise Calment lived to be over 122. She quit smoking at age 120 and she claimed her long life was due to her penchant for chocolate and port wine.

Her fellow Frenchwoman, Sister Andre, is now the oldest person on earth at 118 years of age. Sister Andre survived the Spanish Flu in 1918 and recovered from COVID-19 in 2020. The Catholic nun stated that chocolate is her favorite food and she drinks a glass of wine every day. That certainly sounds better to me than kale and exercise. I am changing my approach.

One recent phenomenon of reaching an old age that as a male concerns me is that since the beginning of the 21stcentury of the 24 oldest people on earth only two have been men. Now I do not know the ages of many Biblical women but according to the Old Testament at Genesis 5:27, Methuselah lived to be 969 years old and Genesis at 9:29 tells us Methuselah’s grandson, Noah, lived until he was 950. What happened to men? I say we are now short about 900 years and women are now greatly outliving us. Please do not mistake my intent. It is not that I want women to live shorter lives than men, I just want all of us to, at least, make it to well over 100 or even receive a Biblical allotment of a long tenure.

In that regard, I must replace my granola bars with an assortment of chocolate. As to the wine increment, Peg and I bought a wine cooler at the Pawhuska, Oklahoma Chamber of Commerce auction last Saturday and Pawhuska’s Blue Sky Bank, that contributed the cooler, filled it with fun brands of wine, including some from the Prairie Rattler Winery in Shidler, Oklahoma. I feel heathier already. In fact, Peg and I now qualify to be full members of my sister Jane’s so-called women’s book club, Inspiritice, that ostensibly meets to discuss good books, but in reality, just gets together to drink good wine. I think they may all live forever; at least I hope so.

Photo by Peg Redwine
Photo by Jim Redwine

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Filed Under: COVID-19, Females/Pick on Peg, Friends, Gavel Gamut, Gender, Males, Oklahoma, Personal Fun Tagged With: Athena, Blue Sky Bank, book club, chocolate, COVID-19, good books, Inspiritice, James M. Redwine, Jeanne Louise Calment, Jim Redwine, knowledge, Mozart, old age, Pawhuska Chamber of Commerce, Prairie Rattler Winery, Sister Andre, sound judgment, Spanish Flu, wine, Zeus

Blame Lucy

April 22, 2022 by Jim Leave a Comment

Louis and Mary Leakey discovered some early human ancestors in Tanzania, Africa’s Olduvai Gorge in 1959. Donald Johanson discovered who may be our original grandmother in Ethiopia’s Great Rift Valley in 1974. He named her Lucy because he was a Beatles fan and listened to the song “Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds” right after his discovery. It may be uncharitable to Johanson and paleontology to point out many believe the song was a paean to LSD. On the other hand, those who question Lucy’s bona fides may find solace in this theory.

At the opposite end of those Doubting Thomas’ is the atheistic biologist Richard Dawkins from the University of Oxford who pushed human origins back to as much as five million years ago and posited his meme theory. Dawkins suggests that it is our replicating genes that determine who and what we are and why we behave as we do. One of his famous analogies to explain the evolution of human biology and behavior is to suggest we envision a long line of mothers holding hands all the way back to Lucy. And, as for me, my experiences with my mother and my wife, Peg, convince me there is some credence to the science of the Leakeys, Johanson and Dawkins.

Let’s envision Lucy, our grandmother, in her African cave while our mythical grandfather, call him Adam, goes out to hunt a mastodon for dinner. Adam is struggling with how to trick the massive beast to stampede over a cliff, but Lucy is back home planning for Adam’s return. After Lucy rearranges the lodge pole front door for the tenth time, she surveys the cave’s interior. She is dissatisfied with the position of the bearskin rug she had Adam move just yesterday. She makes a mental note to have Adam shake out the bearskin and figure out a way to attach it to the granite wall of the cave.

Next, Lucy inventories the two stone cooking utensils that Adam carved out for her last week and decides she must have another small one for their new baby’s meals. Lucy switches the positions of the two vessels for the third time. They look better to her now. Lucy gives the baby a bath in the stream running in front of their cave and realizes with only a few days of work with his stone hoe Adam could divert water right to their cave. Lucy resolves to mention her idea to Adam over a handful of fermenting blackberries when he returns.

Meanwhile Adam is full of a sense of accomplishment because he has skinned the mastodon and is hauling the hide, one ivory tusk and a huge chunk of meat back for Lucy to admire. Adam assumes his work is done for a week or two because Lucy will need to tan the hide, process the meat and make sewing needles from the tusk as she cooks dinner and nurses the baby.

Gentle Reader, you may wonder, or you may not care, why we are discussing the lives of Lucy, Adam and baby from thousands of years ago. Well, I will tell you. About three years ago Peg and I moved into our cabin on the prairie. By unspoken agreement Peg took over all space but my barn. This worked out fine until over the two years of COVID Peg had time to organize every inch of her Girl Cave, the Bunkhouse, the Cabin and even the neutral territory of our garage. Last week spring truly arrived and Peg turned her gaze on my barn. It has not been pretty.

As long as she did not have to look at my laissez-faire system of “if it ain’t in my way, why worry about it”, well, she didn’t worry herself with it. But once she opened the overhead doors and found the mother lode of “my stuff”, she focused her female/Lucy type DNA upon my space. It reminded me of when my sainted mother would venture into my room on a Saturday morning and turn it upside down. Peg and Mom and Lucy and all wives and mothers in between have spent about two million years of two X chromosomal fixation with organization of sons’ and husbands’ behavior. I guess my three-year barn reprieve is over.

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Filed Under: COVID-19, Drug Use, Females/Pick on Peg, Gavel Gamut, Gender, Males, Personal Fun, Satire, Spring Tagged With: Adam, cave, COVID, DNA, Donald Johanson, Ethiopia, Gentle Reader, Great Rift Valley, James M. Redwine, Jim Redwine, Louis and Mary Leakey, LSD, Lucy, Lucy in the Sky With Diamonds, mastodon, Olduvai Gorge, organize stuff, paleontology, Peg, replicating genes, Richard Dawkins, Spring, Tanzania, University of Oxford, X chromosome

One Ringy-Dingy

April 1, 2022 by Jim 1 Comment

iPhone picture by Peg Redwine

Lily Tomlin’s character, telephone operator Ernestine on the TV show Laugh-In, set the standard for bad telephone service. Laugh-In was on NBC from 1969-1973. In 2022 life has overcome art. At least Ernestine was human. Today, robots and recorded messages insulate businesses from the needs of customers. Good luck on getting through a telephone “menu” to speak with someone who will admit a company’s responsibility for poor service.

Things were bad enough before COVID-19 and our current no-one-ever-goes-in-to-work society. But after more than two years of encouraging everyone to avoid contact with anyone many people apparently see any request for service as a borderline criminal assault.

It has been a while since I looked at a college course catalogue, but I suspect some schools must be offering a major, on-line of course, in how to prevent anyone from accessing a service. Perhaps one can pursue a Ph.D. in telephone menu construction. A favorite ploy is to have a recorded answering service that starts off with, “Please listen carefully because our options have recently changed.”

We all know that’s not only demeaning but is also almost certainly untrue. The only changes any company ever makes to its phone options is to obfuscate them further until we despair of ever getting to speak to a human being. The days of simply punching “0” to hear a non-mechanical voice are long gone. Now the R2-D2 robot used to add layers of dross instead of answers to our questions, directs us to some website once we exhaust the non-access menu options. Of course, should we fall into the Inferno of a company’s website we had better not be susceptible to thoughts of self-harm and should avoid having any sharp objects within reach.

It is a telling fact that Alexander Graham Bell (1847-1922) who patented the first practical telephone would not have a phone in his study because it interrupted his work. Bell set the standard toward which all contemporary companies strive; the elimination of any telephone conversations at all. I suppose I should not mention this possibility.

Is it not strange that in a world where even grade schoolers have iPhones and teenagers text the person right beside them that we cannot get anyone to answer the darn phone! Of course, some of the worst, that is, most obnoxious offenders of the “never answer a customer’s query” policy are the government agencies we pay with our tax money to ignore us. Do such “services” as the IRS and VA come to mind?

On a related topic, can we talk about telephone etiquette in general? I suggest if a politician or a political party wishes to up their poll numbers, they pay attention to basic phone courtesy and re-teach the phone manners our parents demanded. You remember, Gentle Reader. Do not call someone and start with, “Is this James?” Begin by identifying who you are and why you are calling. Call only at a decent hour and never during a football game. If you get an answering machine, leave a clear message and a return number by speaking slowly and distinctly. In other words, treat phone contacts as you would in-person contacts and that includes companies and agencies we need to access for services. And by the way, “Thank you and goodbye”.

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Filed Under: COVID-19, Gavel Gamut, Internet class, Personal Fun, Phones Tagged With: Alexander Graham Bell, COVID-19, Ernestine, Gentle Reader, Inferno, iPhone, James M. Redwine, Jim Redwine, Laugh-In, Lily Tomlin, menu, One Ringy-Dingy, poor service, R2-D2, telephone, telephone etiquette, telephone operator, website

Crackers of Gold

March 4, 2022 by Jim Leave a Comment

Golden Crackers!
Picture by Peg Redwine

Over the years I have managed to enter the market on the backend of several financial bonanzas. I passed on pet rocks in 1975 and have regretted it for fifty years. But I think I am in on the ground floor of the next gold rush, saltine crackers! Those of you who read this column for advice on how to retire early may wish to listen up. That group does not include Peg, who as many spouses, does not recognize my genius when it arises.

I happened to notice about a couple of months ago that America had a dearth of saltine crackers. Saltines are important to me, and maybe you too. My fallback diet is crunchy peanut butter on crackers. It is quick, easy, tasty and there is no clean up required. Unfortunately, for the last couple of months I have encountered empty shelves at Dollar General and even Walmart when I searched for saltines. And even though I have researched the topic vigilantly, via Google, I cannot find a rational answer to my plea, “Where are the crackers?”

So, when I found a box at Hometown Foods, see the photo for proof, I grabbed it. I felt like I had discovered that first nugget of gold at Sutter’s Mill in 1848. My excitement was dampened by Peg’s response to my plan to try to corner the market, at least within twenty miles of our cabin, on saltines. When I called our son, Jim, who is our financial advisor, he once again sided with Peg. I explained to him I wanted to convert my IRA to cash and buy all the saltines I could find. He mumbled something about a guardianship and hung up.

As you know, Gentle Reader, no prophet is known in his own country, but I can clearly see our barn filled with boxes of saltines, if I can find them, that will jump in value each day, especially with that maniac Putin destroying our stock market as he tries to destroy Ukraine. Now is the time to reach for that brass ring I have just missed out on so many times before.

So, darn the torpedoes and full speed ahead. And if you wish to invest with me in my plan to corner the market on saltine crackers, you better hurry because I can feel the rest of America about to jump on the roller coaster. Please do not mention any of this to Jim or Peg.

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Filed Under: America, Females/Pick on Peg, Gavel Gamut, JPeg Osage Ranch, Personal Fun Tagged With: America, cash, crunchy peanut butter, Dollar General, Gentle Reader, Gold Rush, Google, Hometown Foods, IRA, James M. Redwine, Jim Redwine, Saltine crackers, stock market, Sutter's Mill, Walmart

Bowled Over

December 29, 2021 by Jim Leave a Comment

Photo by Peg Redwine

Much as the Summer Solstice ushers in the ennui of torturously less daylight each day, as each of the forty-four college football bowl games is completed the dark pall of life without football forces us to put down our beer, get off the couch and go back to work. I accept that COVID is a significant issue but so is mental health. And one of America’s best palliatives for depression in the gray days of winter is watching other people risk their well-being on the football field.

The first college football game was played on November 06, 1869 between Rutgers and Princeton in New Jersey; one hundred people attended the game that Rutgers won 06-04. The first college bowl game was the Tournament of Roses’ East-West game (The Rose Bowl) played on January 01, 1902 between the University of Michigan Wolverines and the Stanford University Cardinal; there were eight thousand-five hundred spectators. Michigan won 49-0 and Stanford quit with eight minutes left to play. That first bowl game was initiated to increase interest in Pasadena, California as a tourist destination and to market the surrounding area and its products. All bowl games since that first one have had similar goals. The outcome of the games is not of paramount concern to most.

The attendance at such highly hyped events as the Tailgreeter Cure Bowl between Coastal Carolina University and Northern Illinois University on December 17, 2021 is indicative of the lack of fanaticism at most bowl games; 9,784, about the same number of fans who showed up for that first Rose Bowl. The bodies in the stadiums at bowl games are not the targets, eyeballs on TV advertising and promotion of each venue are.

As for the schools and players involved, they may have analogous goals. The colleges want to showcase their products and make some money and some players have hopes of enhancing their football futures either as players, coaches or announcers. In other words, the first bowl game was for exhibition purposes and, except for the payout by major sponsors to each school, that is still the overriding rational.

With that in mind I have a few suggestions on how we can incorporate the goals of all involved, or watching, with the ever-expanding number of college bowl games. As I mentioned earlier, we already have 44 bowls. It would require an addition of only 8 more to be able to have one bowl game every week of the year. Surely such eager potential sponsors as Bitcoin or China would pony-up for a chance to showcase their greatness. Maybe a bidding war could be encouraged between Jeff Bezos and Mark Cuban or Elon Musk and Mark Zuckerberg. Israel and Iran could promise to dismantle their nuclear ambitions and sell their peaceful intentions via commercials. Surely Facebook and TikToc would want to play.

One might wonder how one extra, exhibition-type game could be woven into a school’s regular football schedule. From the quality of play of most bowl games and with countless players opting to sit out, it is apparent that just showing up for one more Saturday should not be a problem. When my friends and I played Friday night football it was not unusual for some of us to show up the following Saturday morning for an impromptu, unorganized sandlot game just because. A lot of bowl games have a similar feel.

This system would expand college football perpetually and solve the ego problem for such “sponsors” as Jimmy Kimmel who endowed the Jimmy Kimmel LA Bowl. America could probably easily come up with underwriters such as Donald Trump and Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez. Heck, I humbly suggest the Jim Redwine Armadillo Bowl might draw a nod or two and Peg and I will kick in fifty bucks apiece if that would suffice. We could host it in a pasture at JPeg Osage Ranch if the resident varmints do not too strongly object and if fans do not mind sitting on the ground. TV rights could be negotiated.

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Filed Under: America, COVID-19, Events, Football, Gavel Gamut, JPeg Osage Ranch, Middle East, Oklahoma, Osage County, Personal Fun Tagged With: Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez, Bitcoin, China, college football bowl games, COVID, depression, Donald Trump, Elon Musk, Facebook, gray days of winter, Iran, Israel, James M. Redwine, Jeff Bezos, Jim Redwine, Jim Redwine Armadillo Bowl, Jimmy Kimmel LA Bowl, JPeg Osage Ranch, Mark Cuban, Mark Zuckerberg, mental health, Rutgers vs Princeton, Summer Solstice, Tailgreeter Cure Bowl, The Rose Bowl, TikTok, Tournament of Roses

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