Phil says: Six more weeks of something

Happy Woodchuck Day. I mean Groundhog Day.

I am unsure that groundhog would be a suitable substitute in the tongue-twister:

How much wood would a woodchuck chuck if a woodchuck could chuck wood?

Try it:

How much ground would a groundhog hog if a groundhog could hog ground?

I mean, it doesn’t make a lot of sense. Of course, except in the realm of anthropomorphism, neither would one would likely see woodchucks chucking wood. That is, except in a GEICO commercial.

Either way, groundhogs, a.k.a. woodchucks, whistle-pigs and land beavers, don’t know syrup from mole asses when it comes to practicing climatology. That, nevertheless, doesn’t keep the town of Punxsutawney, Pa., from committing annual civic larceny by luring a groundhog out of the ground every Feb. 2, with said whistle-pig purporting to predict whether six more weeks of winter shall visit upon us.

Sorry, I know that is a bit strong. I am sure it is a fun celebration on Groundhog Day. Here is what Punxsutawney’s official Web site says of the goings on this morning:

“Hear Ye Hear Ye Hear Ye!

On Gobbler’s Knob on this magnificent Groundhog Day, February 2nd, 2012, Punxsutawney Phil, the Seer of Seers, Prognosticator of all Prognosticators, was summoned from his burrow in the old oak stump by the tap of President Bill Deeley.

At 7:25 a.m. he greeted his handlers, John Griffiths and Ron Ploucha. After casting an appreciative glance toward thousands of his faithful followers, Phil proclaimed:

As I look at the crowd on Gobbler’s Knob,
Many shadows do I see
So six more weeks of winter it must be!”

Burma Shave.

So by the prognostication of Phil’s shadow does it appear that we shall have six more weeks of winter, meaning sometime during the six weeks some place will actually receive winter weather. It really has been kind of a weak winter, nationally. Or, there shall be no winter at all. Or, the weather will stay as it is. As it is here, where I live, on the upper Texas coast, that means warm, humid, cloudy and even rainy weather. That rocks pretty much as far as I am concerned since we have suffered a very ugly drought.

Personally, I think predicting the end of winter is for the birds. Literally.

I saw a robin red-breast on Sunday when I went for a short walk. I started to pull out my cell phone and take a picture of it, but I figured it would be gone by then. It actually ignored me for about a minute or so.

Not long before seeing the robin, I saw a small V-shaped flock of geese flying el norte.

“Hey boys, I think we can get to Indianapolis in time for the Super Bowl,” says the geese squadron leader.

“Roger that. Honk honk,” the wingman replies.

When it comes to predicting weather by other than human beings using sophisticated science and radars and stuff, which member of the animal kingdom would you choose? A rodent or a bird?

If you are like a real person you probably could give a rat’s ass unless you are a farmer or someone else whose lives depend on the upcoming weather. And I might be wrong but most modern farmers probably don’t trust their livelihoods to either bird or rodent. That means there isn’t a lot we can do about what type of weather appears in the upcoming six weeks.

So it looks like we’re back to square one. Deja vu all over again, like Yogi Berra said. Why it’s just like that movie. What’s it called? I’m trying to remember.

Oh yeah, “Groundhog Day.”

 

 

Almost, but not quite, Heaven West Virginia

One thing that you have to say about Stephanie Blankenship and her 9-year-old daughter, Baylee: They have to have a good sense of humor.

Baylee has won a number of pageants including that of Little Miss Dandelion and, most recently, Little Miss Roadkill.

Baylee took the “coveted” title during the recent West Virginia Roadkill Cookoff and Autumn Harvest Festival, held in Marlinton, W.Va. Stephenie Blankenship was quoted in a Washington Post story asking:  “Do I really want my daughter to be Miss Roadkill?” But we all know how that turned out.

The fact that some jackass blogger in Southeast Texas is writing about Little Miss Roadkill must mean something, like I was desperate for a subject on which to write. But actually the West Virginia shindig seems to have something unique as some 10,000 people reportedly attend the festival annually and it draws a number of worldwide media people who may or may not be equally as bored.

"But Bullwinkle, that trick never works!"

The Pocahontas Chamber of Commerce, which sponsors the event, points out that television programs such as the Travel Channel’s Andrew Zimmern’s “Bizarre Foods” show even drops by to check out such “exotic dishes like squirrel gravy over biscuits, teriyaki-marinated bear or deer sausage.” Say what?

Okay, now I admit teriyaki-marinated bear sounds somewhat exotic unless you are trying to marinate a LIVE bear with teriyaki sauce which would be just downright insane. I have had squirrel gravy over biscuits and deer sausage on numerous occasions and frankly, I see nothing exotic about those dishes. I mean, squirrel and deer wasn’t normal fare in my household growing up but it’s also not like eating nutria on a stick or fried camel oysters Rockefeller.

Nonetheless, the cookoff sounds like something my friends and I might have contrived in college except we never named a “Little Miss” anything although we were all somewhat a little amiss. As a matter of fact, the last time I remember eating squirrel was at one of my weekend-long chili cook-offs in college. The squirrel was not part of the chili cook-off, which was held on the farmland I rented out in the boonies of East Texas, but was instead whipped up by my friend The Rev. Keith who went out and nailed a few of the tree rats on my neighbor’s property while I lay sleeping early one Sunday morning. Keith was caught by my neighbor, who didn’t particularly like me because we were always doing things such as shooting and burning furniture at parties. Yes, we would shoot AND burn furniture. However, the neighbor being a good East Texan did let Keith keep the squirrels which he cooked into some good friend squirrel and biscuits on the remains of the bonfire which held the springs from the previous night’s couch.

Exotic, you say?

 

 

Something to ponder during the listeria outbreak

Reading about the current deadly listeria outbreak that may have killed as many as 16 in the U.S. so far reminds me of visits to Third-World countries when I was a young sailor.

My shipmates and I during port visits in places like Subic Bay and Jakarta would get — and I know this might be hard to believe — two-to-three sheets to the wind and seek out some late-night food before heading back to the ship. Often the chow would be something barbecued on a stick — like monkey or pork or don’t ask, don’t care. This was despite all the warnings we got about food safety while visiting foreign countries. What can I say? At least we were drinking beer and not the water.

I never got sick once from eating the local food on my seven-month deployment. I got sick as a dog from a Hickory Farms ham my folks sent me. It’s best I don’t describe the illness because just the description alone might leave you with one of the symptoms I experienced. Eeeeee! Fortunately, the illness only struck me overnight. I suppose the toxins found no safe haven to hide once my body completed expelling everything from everywhere.

Perhaps the fact that I was 21 or 22 years old helped stave off the food-borne-illness-on-a-stick I may have otherwise experienced on those late night din-dins on Magsaysay Drive in OIangapo or wherever the hell I was in Jakarta.

Nowadays I might not fare so well at 55 and sporting a few bodily glitches, with either foreign street food or even something from the tasty samples in my local supermarket.

The outbreak from listeria is the worst such “multi-state” food-borne illness in quite awhile. Even though the CDC knows the origin — the cantaloupes from Jensen Farms in Holly, Colo., — the agency has not yet discovered or released what caused the outbreak. There are a number of possible reasons for the disease just as a myriad of foods can carry the illness.

I spent about five years reporting on and writing about water pollution caused by large dairy farms. Now, I can’t say with certainty that I know if any of those farms ever caused listeria. The big issue with which I was tasked to write so much about cow crap was nutrients — phosphorus in particular — fed to the cattle. Heavy rains and the use of manure as fertilizer contributed to runoff that fueled spectacular algal growth downstream. This could cause all kinds of problems for cities that got their water from this particular river. The water tasted like crap, figuratively speaking.

Such pollution can cause listeria. It is not the only cause. And it isn’t a simple issue with a simple solution. Dairy farmers today, as is the case with other types of food production, are wrapped up in “economics of scale.” That means in the simplest and crudest of explanations, that certain factors cause a producer’s average cost per unit to fall as the scale of output is increased. In dairy farming or beef production, one needs more animals to survive in the marketplace. But there is only so much space for such large-scale production so an assembly-line type operation becomes necessary. Hence the pejorative term used by environmental activists “factory farming.”

Now I like milk and milk products. I am crazy about cheeses. Oh how I love cheeses. But I probably should go easy on cheese and I’ve never been a great milk drinker. I use non-fat milk for my cereal. Every now and then I like a well-crafted (by me) White Russian. Of course, even though milk gives the drink its name it is the vodka that makes it an adult beverage and the Kahlúa which provides the taste. That said, the sometimes humorous and sometimes heart-tugging California dairy farmer TV commercials give me heartburn.

The image of the pastoral setting for the contented dairy cow and the good wholesome Anglo-American farmers who proclaim their dairy is a “family farm” is more often than not, a misleading picture. The dairy industry certainly isn’t spending the big loot on these TV spots for fun. Big dairies seem to leave a wake of pollution battles everywhere they go.

It is very, very difficult to compete in the dairy business without a whole bunch, hundreds, of cows. Sure, these farms are owned by families most of the time but the business model includes large-scale cooperatives and some dairies are even owned by large corporations.

Listeria is just one of the diseases that can be spread by today’s big-time farming. I’m not saying it caused this outbreak. We don’t know the answer to that  yet. I certainly don’t do the bidding for PETA or vegans, even though they have their right to their opinions. I like meat. It’s good to eat. As is its byproducts. Nevertheless, water pollution endangers lives of people: you, your kids, your grandkids even your cows and favorite cow dog. If you are anti-government that’s fine. But this is a problem that doesn’t appear it will be solved in the market place. That is, unless your solution is for most of your customers to die.

The Mile High Club at ground level: The Love Bugs do the horizontal bop

Sex is everywhere you turn on the highways of Southeast Texas. Yes, I am talking about the Love Bug swarm is here again, the skies above are black and orange again …

I had to take the G-mobile in to get it cleaned by professionals after traveling around Cow Bayou in Orange County this afternoon. I mean those f**king bugs are literally everywhere. It is like a ground-level version of the Mile High Club.

If you don’t know what Love Bugs are then here’s the scoop. They are also known as Plecia nearctica Hardy. These are, according to Texas AgriLife Extension: ” … about 1/2-inch long, black with an reddish-orange area on the top of the thorax, and a pair of smoky colored wings. They are all weak fliers.”

Aggie Extension service goes on to say: “Large numbers of adults emerge primarily in the spring (May) and fall (September). Males and females fly and couple in open areas along roadways, appearing to swarm in weak flight.”

The high numbers of bugs are quite aptly described by TAMU as “annoying.” The bugs can cause obscured vision from its splatter on the windshields of cars and the bugs committing hari-kari on radiators can lead to overheating. Likewise, the bugs can cause severe, permanent damage to a car’s paint job if not washed off in reasonably quick order. How quick is quick? Every two miles. Yes, get out of your car with a pail of warm, soapy water every two miles and give the front of your car a good washing. Just joking. But seriously, I don’t see how it would hurt to wash the bugs off at the end of every day you drive, if possible.

There are tons of ways to protect your auto from these horny little insects, everything from a car bra to spraying the front of your car with Pam or swabbing the car with baby oil. My local county extension office told me this afternoon that warm, soapy water is good to wash the bugs off. Newsprint is a great way to dry and rub down the windshield and grill. Why newsprint? Beats me. A friend in the fire department showed me when we washed fire trucks how great it works and even though I was in the newspaper business a lot longer than being in the fire suppression business, I never thought to ask about it.

Call your local county consumer or agriculture agent for more information and they might, most likely will, have some better information. I am not liable for anything that happens to your car if you follow my suggestions. I am not liable for anything, period. I am liable to eat something bad for me, but that is about as far as it goes. GIT OUT OF HERE! I was talking to those love bugs

CNN/Tea Party debate: Crawfish anyone?

As a resident of the bayou country of Cajun Texas I will confess that I have only seen crawfish swim backwards on TV. But I do know enough of the term “crawfishing” to know it means someone is backtracking on a previous statement.

Today I searched high and low to find someone saying Gov. Goodhair  Perry, good boy he is from the rolling plains of northwest Texas, did a little crawfishing of his own during last evening’s televised debate.

Perry was beaten up like a Sunday morning egg during the debate by some of his fellow Republicans who are seeking the GOP nomination next year. CNN cozying up, I guess, to the Tea Party co-sponsored last night’s debate with the TP in Tampa, Fla.

It is just plain flabbergasting that 10 more of these Republican gabfests will take place until March 5, 2012. I watched about half of the one last week and about a quarter of the one last night. I figure at that rate I surely will not watch any of the debate after the next one. The Sept. 14 debate will be televised on NBC. Well, I wouldn’t watch the debate on Sept. 22 anyway because it’s on Fox News Channel I have to organize my sock drawer that evening.

The aforementioned crawfishing by Ol’ Goodhair came about as he tried to explain to the TP and TV audience how he thought Social Security was a Ponzi scheme before he thought it wasn’t a Ponzi scheme. Are something like that. I’m still not sure what he was saying. At any rate, Perry seemed to backtrack when asked if he still thought the social income program was still a fraud after all the bashing he has taken for his reiterating that idea, plus the fact that he had a chance to redeem himself in Florida among the scores of retirees watching.

Perry said it was a “slam dunk” that Social Security was a “ …  program that’s been there 70 or 80 years, obviously we’re not going to take that away.” He never answered the question directly, of course, whether he still believed the program to be a Ponzi scheme. Had Perry come clean, he would have been thrown out of the Sleazy Politicians Guild. However, Perry badmouthed Social Security enough delivering his somewhat shaky answers and made it clear if he had a coyote named Social Security he would certainly shoot it.

Goodhair also got himself in a jam over an executive order he signed awhile back ordering young Texas school girls to be vaccinated for HPV, the virus known for causing cervical cancer. Now I personally come down on Goodhair’s side on this one, since it can effectively prevent this disease. I don’t like Perry’s dealings with lobbyists from the firm that makes the vaccine, including one of his former top aides.  I also dislike the fact that Perry said he only received $5,000 from the company and appeared indignant that he could be “bought for $5,000” when he receives millions in contributions. Last but not least, it is more than irksome to find out today that he actually got more like $30,000 from this company. But hey, $5,000 here, $30,000 there, after a while  you’re talking serious money.

It is all so tiresome that it makes me wish the General Election season was already here. At least I might, I say might because if Barry O’Bama doesn’t start getting some things done I might not, have someone to cheer for when that time comes around in about a year.

In the meantime I guess I’ll just have to sit back and eat a salad instead of the crawfish boudain I bought because anything crawfish is liable to make me think of Goodhair and that wouldn’t be too great on the digestive system.