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Mark Twain

Prometheus Revisited

March 22, 2024 by Peg Leave a Comment

A few days ago I received a telephone call in the early morning from my neighbor who owns the ranch immediately east of our property, “Jim, can we cross your place with some fire-fighting trucks and volunteers? Our controlled burn is not controlled. It may jump over on you.”

“Sure, anything I can help with?” Of course, as a judge neither I nor anyone else ever expects me to do anything except watch and listen, but I thought I should offer.

“Just keep an eye on things; it should be okay if the wind doesn’t pick up or if it changes from westerly to eastward. My cowboys and I will be coming through soon.”

Controlled burning in the early spring and fall when the land is more moist and seeds are not yet being heavily produced has been a proven technique for range management for many years. There is evidence Native Americans used deliberate burning in parts of America many years before Europeans arrived. According to a 2016 article from the National Park Service the tallgrass prairies would quickly succumb to undesirable shrubs and trees, such as red cedars, without periodic burning.

   

There are some negatives such as possible erosion and excessive smoke from pasture fires, but most experts posit the overall benefits lie with burning. As for Peg and me, our concerns were more with our log cabin and log out-buildings. I stationed myself at the fence line between the neighbor’s ranch and our place and marveled at the hard, dangerous work done by mainly volunteer fire departments from Barnsdall, Hominy and rural fire departments from other areas of Osage County, Oklahoma. I apologize for not thanking each firefighter and company by name, but there were so many volunteers and water trucks and there was so much expert and complex planning going on I do not know whom to thank. Therefore, thanks to all who responded and managed the raging backfires that preserved all of our structures and helped clear out the thatch and undergrowth from a good portion of our trees and pastures.

It was gratifying to experience the thoughtfulness and expertise of the firefighters who were the opposite of the fire company of the town of Dawson’s Landing in Mark Twain’s wonderful book, Pudd’nhead Wilson:

“A village fire company does not get much chance to show off, and so when it does get a chance, it makes the most of it. Such citizens of that village (Dawson’s Landing) as were of a thoughtful and judicious temperament did not insure against fire, they insured against the fire company.” 

It was interesting to see firefighters helping to safeguard our home who understood the elements of fire and wind and how to turn them from a possible dangerous disaster into benefits.

The new growth is already striving to turn the still smoldering old vegetation into wildflowers and new Bluestem grasses. I wondered how the ubiquitous and unfeeling conflagration would impact the deer and other animals that inhabit our fields and make them so much more enjoyable. But just today I observed a coyote gingerly dancing across the ashes as he reoriented himself to his new environment. He looked just as any human might look in the aftermath of some catastrophe, a little confused but hopeful Mother Nature knew what she was doing.

Peg and I will take our guidance from Wily and look upon the huge fire as what Peg might call another one of “Jim’s Adventures”. We are eagerly awaiting the emergence of the Indian Blanket and Indian Paintbrush wildflowers that, thanks to the uninvited wildfire, will soon be gracing our prairie home.

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Filed Under: Authors, Events, Gavel Gamut, JPeg Osage Ranch, Oklahoma, Osage County, Spring Tagged With: "Jim's Adventures", Barnsdall fire department, controlled burn, firefighters, Hominy fire department, James M. Redwine, Jim Redwine, Mark Twain, Osage County, Pudd'nhead Wilson, rural fire departments

The Founders

March 17, 2023 by Peg Leave a Comment

Reminder at a coffee shop in Batumi, Georgia

When our son, Jim, was stationed with the U.S. Army in Germany he visited the old Soviet Union just before the collapse of the Berlin Wall in 1989. He told us the very few other Americans he saw in what became modern Russia were easy to spot; they were the only ones smiling. I noticed that same phenomenon among the public when I worked for a couple of weeks in the Republic of Ukraine in 2000. Then when Peg and I spent a week working in Russia in 2003 we noted everyone but the two of us wore dark clothes and dark expressions.

Our recent eight-month experience working with the judiciary in the Republic of Georgia, once part of the old Soviet Union and bordering Russia, reinforced these impressions of uncertainty given out by the Georgian people who are ostensibly in a now free and democratic country; however, they appeared to us to be hedging their bets due to fear of their Russian neighbor.

Peg and I could not have been treated any more courteously than we were by our new Georgian friends who were generous and great fun to live and work among. We had a marvelous experience and learned a great deal. One thing we already knew, but had not fully appreciated until sharing with the Georgians whose small country is across the Black Sea from Ukraine, was how fortunate we are as Americans to not only be free but to feel free.

The people of Georgia were open and friendly with us whether at court, our other meeting places or on the streets. We were fully accepted, often objects of curiosity and were constantly asked, “How are things done in America?” You see, Gentle American Reader, Russia occupies 20% of the “Republic” of Georgia and is a constantly looming presence, at least mentally, in most Georgian psyches. Freedom there is established by law but is quite uneasy. The friendliness and good will of the countless Georgian citizens we worked and socialized with was unforced and generous. However, our Georgian acquaintances usually found an opportunity to express their good will and appreciation toward America and their almost universal desire to come here. It was reassuring and gratifying to experience how other people respected our home country.

I guess it is sort of like Mark Twain’s epiphany, “When I was a teenager, I could not believe how ignorant my father was, but by the time I turned 21 I was amazed at how much the old man had learned.” In much the same manner, Peg and I were brought to fully appreciate living in a truly free country. It is one thing to be physically in a country called a democracy, and it is an entirely different feeling to live in America where, as Lee Greenwood sings, “I am proud to be an American where at least I know I’m free.”

The dreams and aspirations of our new Georgian friends also affected our understanding of people risking their lives and sacrificing everything to get to America, you know, as many of our ancestors did. Even native-born Americans such as Peg and I owe huge debts to the brilliance and courage of many immigrants and their progeny who helped make these United States, as Katherine Lee Bates and Samuel A. Ward wrote in America the Beautiful, “Oh beautiful for pilgrim feet whose stern impassioned stress, a thoroughfare for freedom beat across the wilderness.”

Or as Frances Williams and Marjorie Elliot in their song Hymn to America, Let There Be Music called for, an America where, “May kindness and forbearance make this land a joyous place, where each man feels a brotherhood, unmarred by creed or race.” We recognize our country’s imperfections and sins of the past and present. But, America’s beacon of freedom expiates many of our failings. And, once one leaves America she or he understands why regardless of our shortcomings, as Neil Diamond sings, “From all across the world they’re coming to America.” Why? Because, “They only want to be free.”

Gentle Reader, haven’t you often wished you could travel back in time to when our country was founded? Wouldn’t it be something special to meet and talk with such dreamers, heroes and revolutionaries as George Washington, Thomas Jefferson, John Adams, James Madison, Alexander Hamilton and others? Perhaps we could have even joined in that difficult and dangerous struggle for freedom that now we can only read about, but thanks to them and others, we enjoy every day. Of course, who knows if we would have dared join in that revolt against Great Britain, the most powerful nation on earth in the 1700’s. And if we had lived then and had shown the courage of our Forefathers, we as they might have been blind to the hypocrisy and irony of fighting for our own freedom as we denied Native Americans, Blacks and women theirs. Heroes do not have to be perfect to strive for, “[A] more perfect union.”

Many of our Georgian friends are publicly standing up to a large portion of their government that has chosen to abide by Russia’s infiltration into Georgia. It takes courage to risk freedom to seek freedom. A large portion of the Georgian government is sympathetic to Russia while the majority of the citizens yearn for a true freedom that does not require a subtle fealty to what remains of the old Soviet Union.

Peg and I were impressed by the bravery of our Georgian friends and, especially, the boldness of the women. It reminded us of what it might have been like to know Martha Washington, Martha Jefferson, Abigail Adams, Dolly Madison and Eliza Hamilton. You know, our Founding Mothers, without whom we in America might well be the Georgians of today, “Yearning to be breathe free.” I will not name our courageous Georgian friends, both women and men, as the penalties for seeking a true democracy may well be severe. But I do admire their willingness to risk all for what our Founders risked for us. When Peg and I finally returned to Osage County, Oklahoma, U.S.A. we found ourselves gratefully humming that song by Woody Guthrie about America’s birthright, This Land Is Your Land. Apparently even depression era America felt good as long as it was free; freedom renders hardships bearable.

Our time working abroad showed Peg and me we had to leave America to truly appreciate what it might feel like to lose it. We are products of the 1960’s and have long recognized and often pointed out the U.S.A. is not perfect. But no place is and it sure beats all the alternatives we have seen. As for our Georgian friends, many of them are concerned that Russia will not respect Georgia’s 8,000 years of history and tradition and will seek to control the remaining 80% of that beautiful but small and vulnerable country.

That the concerns of numerous of our Georgian friends are well justified has been recently validated by the ruling political power’s attempt to push through two Russian influenced statutes that sought to prohibit and punish “foreign influence.” Due to strong public protests that some of our Georgian colleagues joined, the ruling party withdrew the bills, for now. However, under these proposed draconian laws, as Americans sent to Georgia to help Georgia’s judges seek more independence, Peg and I might well have come under scrutiny for our actions since our mission was fully funded by the United States Agency for International Development, the American Bar Association and the East-West Management Institute, all of which could be classified by Russia or the Georgian Parliament as “foreign influencers.” Judicial Independence is not a goal of Georgia’s controlling political party. Peg and I are glad to be home but are concerned about our Georgian friends as there is still much important and difficult work to be done and we hope America continues to “influence” our friends’ courageous efforts to do it.

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Filed Under: America, Democracy, Friends, Gavel Gamut, Judicial, Justice, Legislative, Native Americans, Osage County, Patriotism, Russia, Slavery, Ukraine, United States, Women's Rights Tagged With: a more perfect union, America, America the Beautiful, Blacks, democracy, draconian laws, foreign influence, Founders, freedom, friendly, Gentle Reader, Georgia, good will, Hymn to America, James M. Redwine, Jim Redwine, Lee Greenwood, Mark Twain, Native Americans, Neil Diamond, Russia, This Land is Your Land, Ukraine, Women's Movement

Motherhood and Apple Pie

October 14, 2021 by Peg Leave a Comment

I am for both of these institutions and I bet so are most voters. So the slight of hand our politician’s must pull off is to make us think we are getting Mom’s apple pie for our tax monies when, in fact, we may be getting Jezebel’s cow pie.  

Take the Patriot Act for instance. The full name the naming gnomes came up with for this abomination is: “Uniting and Strengthening America by Providing Appropriate Tools Required to Intercept and Obstruct Terrorism (USA Patriot) Act of 2001.” An example of the Act’s true purpose is the secret FISA courts it created. FISA courts are Foreign Intelligence Surveillance Courts where the term “court” is turned on its head. Secret proceedings are the stuff of Franz Kafka’s The Trial, not places where due process and the protection of rights and liberty occur. Nothing could be less patriotic than The Patriot Act.

Much as we have ignored and subverted our core principles of innocent until and unless proven guilty in Guantanamo Bay “Detention” Camp, our legal and political system has incrementally used words to obfuscate and mislead. A detention center is where bad behaving children are disciplined. Guantanamo is America’s shameful gulag where we give the lie to our core values every day it remains open.

George Orwell was an English writer but his prescient works, Animal Farm and 1984, could be sounding the alarm for our government’s attempts to have us believe politicians pet projects are infrastructure and military incursions are peace missions. It is difficult to get voters to re-elect a politician if they know the person they are paying about $200,000 per year is spending trillions of dollars of taxpayer funds on pet projects and claiming they are infrastructure. Maybe what the politician wants to fund is a good idea but lying to the American public to get it funded is not.

Perhaps if we would rename broccoli, ice cream, we could save broccoli farmers from bankruptcy. Or maybe we could champion those wonderful brussel sprouts as COVID-19 cures. I am confident there would be some late-night charlatan somewhere on the internet or cable t.v. who would run such an idea as a Biblical alternative to vaccines.

As Congress castigates Mark Zuckerberg and wrings its hands at his subliminal manipulation of our youth, perhaps it could turn its spotlight on itself and start policing its own Newspeak. The politicians’ callous indifference to the citizenry’s confusion over science and religion or peace and war or progress over stagnation is in need of a good analysis by a contemporary Will Rogers or Mark Twain or George Orwell or Joseph (Catch 22) Heller.

Anyway, I cannot devote any more time to such pursuits as it is the middle of football season. So, for now, I must concentrate upon what is truly important, at least to me, and I will blithely rely upon the goodwill of the politicians to address the rest in terms that lull me back to indifference.

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Filed Under: America, Authors, COVID-19, Gavel Gamut Tagged With: apple pie, COVID-19, Detention Camp, FISA courts, Franz Kafka, George Orwell, Guantanamo, gulag, James M. Redwine, Jim Redwine, Joseph Heller, Mark Twain, Mark Zuckerberg, motherhood, Newspeak, Patriot Act, Will Rogers

Thanks A Lot Noah

September 10, 2021 by Peg Leave a Comment

In his book Letters From The Earth, Mark Twain has Noah making an extra trip in the Ark so he could save the housefly that spreads typhoid fever. I could not find any reference to scorpions in the Book of Genesis nor in the account of the Great Flood that also appears in the Quran. However, Noah, or in Arabic, Nuh, must have heroically preserved the “creature with the burning sting” as I stepped on one in our cabin at JPeg Osage Ranch last night. If Satan had stepped on a scorpion with bare cloven hoof, I bet he would have sent a scathing letter to heaven from his temporary banishment on Earth. Perhaps then either St. Michael or St. Gabriel, the Devil’s correspondents, might have pointed out to the Creator that His creation of the scorpion was a bust.

The Latin name, scorpion, given to the eight-legged arachnid with the pinching front claws and the stinging tail aptly describes the menace that apparently has no value except to encourage one to wear shoes in the house. Except for me, scorpions have few natural enemies other than lizards and tarantulas; choose your poison.

What I want to know is whom did Mother Nature put in charge of species extinction and why hasn’t She extinguished scorpions? Scorpions have been around for 435 million years and, I humbly suggest, that is long enough. According to Google (who else are you going to rely on), extinctions are a normal part of evolution. They occur naturally, periodically and somewhat regularly. We Homo sapiens would not be here if millions of other species, dinosaurs for example, had not gone extinct before we came out of the primordial ooze two to three hundred thousand years ago after two to three million years of genetic iterations of hominids.

I submit it is fair to ask Mother Nature, “What were you thinking?” Much like the White-Tailed Hornet of poet laureate Robert Frost’s poem, it appears to me whoever designed the scorpion should have gone back to the drawing board, or better yet, file thirteened the whole thing. The white-tailed hornet (or scorpion) might be viewed romantically by nature lovers who assume infallibility or even lovability in all of nature’s creations. But Frost (1874-1963) watched in disillusionment as a white-tailed hornet in search of a fly to eat repeatedly attacked both the head of a nail and Frost’s nose. As Frost concludes about nature and life in general, once we begin to see the fallibility of the natural world “reflected in the mud and even dust” we can no longer convince ourselves we humans are only a little lower than the angels and are probably no higher than creepy crawlers on the floor.

 

The White-Tailed Hornet

The white-tailed hornet lives in a balloon (nest)
That floats against the ceiling of the woodshed
…
Verse could be written on the certainty
With which he penetrates my best defense
Of whirling hands and arms about the head
To stab me in the sneeze-nerve of a nostril
…
I watched him where he swooped, he pounced, he struck;
But what he found was just a nail head (not a fly).
…
Won’t this whole instinct matter bear revision?
To err is human, not to, animal.
Or so we pay the compliment to instinct.
…
’Twas disillusion upon disillusion.

 

In much the same manner as Frost’s hornet, did that scorpion on my cabin floor mistake me for either dinner or a possible mate? Why bother me at all? When it should have been gainfully employed in more reasonable pursuits it was not using any reason and we both suffered for its frailty.

The Greek astronomer Ptolemy identified the constellation Scorpius in the 2nd century A.D. Why didn’t Mother Nature take that as a clue to make scorpions extinct 2,000 years ago? Even Nancy Reagan with her reliance on astrology for advice to her husband on affairs of state might have used her influence to have “Scorpio” disappeared from our existence by bringing the power of the federal government to bear. After all, our federal government killed off generations of eagles and other more cuddly species than scorpions with DDT. Why did scorpions escape?

I am glad the bison somehow miraculously survived mankind’s slaughter but do wonder what if any reason exists to preserve the scorpion. I guess it comes down to “Only the good die young” and we humans have been around about 430 million fewer years than the scorpion. We will probably be gone long before scorpions pass.

On the other hand, perhaps I can convince Jeff Bezos and Amazon to help me market scorpions to the public as pets. Hey, entrepreneur Gary Dahl got rich back in the 1970’s by convincing people a rock could be a loving pet. Maybe a slogan such as “Get Your Zing Avoiding a Sting” could be catchy. Or maybe I could sell them as a great gift idea for misanthropic people or dry them out and make necklaces from them. I see all kinds of people sporting plastic human skulls on their belt buckles or as tattoos.

Of course, if I were able to get such an enterprise going the government would just regulate it out of existence or tax it to death. Well, at least I could get rid of some of the crunchy little crustaceans that way. In the meantime, I guess I’ll just need to wear my shoes and watch my step.

 

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Filed Under: Authors, Gavel Gamut, JPeg Osage Ranch, Personal Fun Tagged With: Amazon, arachnid, bison, Book of Genesis, DDT, Gary Dahl, Great Flood, James M. Redwine, Jeff Bezos, Jim Redwine, JPeg Osage Ranch, Letters From The Earth, Mark Twain, Mother Nature, Noah, Ptolemy, Robert Frost, Satan, Scorpio, scorpion, Scorpius, St. Gabriel, St. Michael, The White-Tailed Hornet, typhoid fever

Hope Springs Eternal

August 6, 2021 by Peg Leave a Comment

According to Google Search (sounds like gospel to me), the Fountain of Youth is located in Osage County, Oklahoma at latitude 36.6461942° north, longitude -96.097216° west, at an elevation 938 feet above sea level. To be more precise, Ponce de Leon Spring is at that location on the grounds of the Woolaroc Museum & Wildlife Preserve. Therefore, Gentle Reader, you can actually visit Osage County’s version of what people have vigilantly searched for since at least the days of Greek historian Herodotus (484 BC – 425 BC), that is, the hope for eternal youth.

Woolaroc is a marvelous creation by oil man Frank Phillips whose namesake Route 66 is America’s “Mother Road”. Phillips’ gift to the rest of us is an amazing eclectic collection of animals, art and artifacts. It is also only seven miles from our home, JPeg Osage Ranch, so we get to enjoy it every time we drive along Oklahoma State Highway 123 between Bartlesville and Barnsdall, Oklahoma. You can do the same thing almost every day; but during the summer the museum is closed on Mondays and then in the winter it is closed Mondays and Tuesdays.  Woolaroc (woods, lakes and rocks) is one of Osage County’s greatest treasures. It is inexpensive, easy to access and a rare concentration of great western art, such as original paintings by Charles Russell and Frederic Remington and original bronzes by Osage County’s own Jim Hamilton and John Free. However, for now let’s you and I return to the Fountain of Youth.

Ponce de Leon (1474 – 1521) was born in Spain and spent his adult life pillaging the Caribbean for gold while using the indigenous Taino Indians for forced labor. There was some small measure of justice administered when in 1521 Ponce de Leon was shot in the thigh with an Indian arrow in Florida and languished in pain until his eventual death in Cuba. Ponce de Leon claimed to be searching for what most people think was a mythical fountain of youth reportedly because he was nearly 50 years old when he married a teenage girl. In reality, it was not youth he was seeking but the location and plunder of Indian gold. I cannot advise on the efficacy of the Ponce de Leon Spring waters as Peg and I have as yet not come across the proper procedure for gaining permission to access the spring. We hope to hear from the museum’s curator or maybe order some bottles online. Surely someone at Amazon is looking for a way to market such a valuable commodity. My guess is there may be a fairly substantial fee involved for what Mark Twain suggested would be the proper way aging should occur, that is, starting at 80 years of age (we are getting there) and working backwards to 18 (there’s no harm in dreaming as even Merlin youthened instead of aging).

Apparently, the Spanish conquistadors were more interested in gold than youth as such marauders as Leon and Francisco Vasquez de Coronado (1541) spent what was left of their youth searching for Cibola, the fabled seven cities of gold, that were rumored to exist in southwestern America.

Unlike the French explorers, such as René La Salle (1682), Jean Baptiste de La Harpe (1718) and Claude Charles du Tiene (1719) who sought trade with the native Americans in what became Oklahoma, the Spanish had less concern with Indian sensibilities. Fortunately, Spain sold its claims to raid the area to France’s Napoleon Bonaparte in 1800. Then in 1803 Napoleon sold the entire Louisiana Purchase to the newly established United States of America for fifteen million dollars. This purchase included what is now named Ponce de Leon Spring almost next to our home. So, if you will excuse me, I am going to see about getting permission for a quick soak to wash away a few years.

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Filed Under: America, Gavel Gamut, JPeg Osage Ranch, Oklahoma, Osage County Tagged With: Cibola, Claude Charles du Tiene, Fountain of Youth, Francisco Vasquez de Coronado, Frank Phillips, Gentle Reader, Google Search, Herodotus, hope springs eternal, James M. Redwine, Jean Baptiste de La Harpe, Jim Redwine, JPeg Osage Ranch, Louisiana Purchase, Mark Twain, Napoleon Bonaparte, Osage County, Ponce de Leon, Ponce de Leon Spring, Rene La Salle, Route 66, the Mother Road, Woolaroc Museum & Wildlife Preserve

The Coliseum Revisited

September 27, 2018 by Peg Leave a Comment

Peg & Jim Redwine at the Coliseum

 

If CNN, MSNBC and FOX News were covering the entertainments in the Roman Coliseum in the First Century they would have been exhorting the lions. Of course, the reason for this is the ratings would suffer if they sided with the humans. The public demands spectacle, not fairness.

Or as Mark Twain opined: “One of the most striking differences between a cat and a lie is that a cat has only nine lives”. Pudd’nhead Wilson, Chapter VII.

In William Shakespeare’s Othello, Act 3, scene 3, Iago complains: “Who steals my purse steals trash …[But] who filches from me my good name robs me of that which (does not) enrich him [but] makes me poor indeed”.

Our current spectacle steals from both accused and accuser equally. When it comes time to clear the floor of the Congressional Coliseum no one will remain unscathed and we will all be poorer. Rome today is a decaying tourist amusement. The days of roads, aqueducts, legal systems and Pax Romana declined with the declining investment of the citizenry in self-government. Today we would have to include the national media in this equation.

It is not that we do not know how to reasonably go about choosing our leaders such as presidents, legislators and supreme court justices, it is that it is a lot more fun to watch others being ripped apart than to engage in rational debate. Bring on the lions, we are bored with this democracy thing!

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Filed Under: America, Democracy, Events, Gavel Gamut, News Media, Patriotism Tagged With: bring on the lions, CNN, Coliseum, Congressional Coliseum, declining investment of the citizenry in self-government, democracy, Fox News, James M. Redwine, Jim Redwine, legislators, Mark Twain, MSNBC, Othello, Pax Romana, presidents, Pudd'nhead Wilson, Rome, supreme court justices, the public demands spectacle not fairness, William Shakespeare

© 2025 James M. Redwine

 

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