Today I look back at some of the nursery rhymes I heard, now a half-century past, and wonder if they had any meaning or whether they were just random thoughts put together, of the kind I do and as my Dad did before me.
The Wikipedia offers some explanations into possible origins of “Hey Diddle Diddle.” They are interesting, or at least some are but they do not deserve repeating here, especially when one may read them as I have linked.
The cat and the fiddle. The cow jumped over the moon.
One thinks of fiddles and their strings made for many years before synthetics with “catgut.” This material came from various animal intestines such as sheep, cattle, horses but probably not from cats. As for cows and the moon, long has a fancy existed that the moon was made from cheese and dairy cattle being a major source of cheese, one can understand a cow being curious as to the origin of that big old bright moon at night, lit up in all its splendor in an anything-but glorious color which doesn’t resemble most cheese at all.
The little dog laughed to see such sport.
Thus we have us a laughing dog, which is laughing, presumably, at a cat, a fiddle, and a cow jumping over the moon because its mother lode of cheese might just reside there. I’ve never actually seen a dog laugh. I’ve seen them smile plenty of times. Well, maybe once I did, let’s not talk about that. Then again, I’ve never really seen a cow hurdle the moon either.
And the dish ran away with the spoon.
Why? Because the fork conspired with the knife to drown those now runaways in a vat of soapy water. Die you dirty little bastards! I’ve felt that way about silverware especially when even an electric dishwasher couldn’t clean them.
My best guess is hallucinogens. These rhymes purportedly came from Merry ole England, but when they surfaced is anyone’s guess. Well, not anyone but perhaps some scholar could make some sense of it. Just what got these fellows to start seeing cats and fiddles, cows jumping over the moon and a dish on the lamb with a spoon makes me think think the author ingested some kind of mushroom. Maybe it’s not the psilocybin found mostly in tropical and subtropical areas, including the south and southwest United States. But just think of what those long-ago cows might have ate to help grow something, well, downright wild.
Of course, the explanation may also be completely innocent. Someone made some rap up which was silly to tell their little one. Or else, someone who was tripping like a big dog in PetSmart made something up which was silly to tell their little one.
Verizon Wireless likes to tout its “lightning fast 4G speeds.” I have the third 4G device from that company in less than two weeks. It is a Samsung mobile hotspot. I used the term “MiFi” the other day. I think that is actually Novatel’s version. Both are similar gizmos. The mobile hotspot is a very simple little box that allows one to allegedly connect up to five computers at once and deliver the Internet at, once again, its “lightning fast” speed. Wow. Lightning. That would be pretty damned fast wouldn’t it? All kidding aside, it has allowed me to tame the rowdy piece of crap Lenovo half-tablet, half-notebook, half-ass computer I have to use at work. That is an unintended consequence however.
Sometimes the device does come up with some very fast speeds, both uploading and downloading. It’s best if you stick it in a window though. The hotspot also has a tendency to stall and, it seems at least, it takes a bit of time to reboot the device.
What has been the worst feature about this wireless gadget is that, as fast as Verizon claims to be, they turn out to be very slow and very careless in getting the gizmo to the customer. For instance, I got the device itself on Monday. Since the battery had to be shipped from a different point than the hotspot, the battery didn’t come until Tuesday. I spent a day of annual leave to make sure I was home for the FedEx guy.
Upon opening the package with the battery, I noticed that the charger that was supposed to come with the battery was nowhere to be found. It is pretty crucial because the battery uses up its juice in less than five hours. Fortunately, my phone charger fit the mobile hotspot. Actually, it is more like amazing because as anyone who has bought more than one electronic gadget knows, every device seems to have its own unique battery charger. It’s kind of like each snowflake being different.
My charger came today, but since I was working I will have to pick it up at FedEx tomorrow. And guess what else I discovered? The Verizon geniuses sent me the wrong battery cover. I kind of wondered why the battery seemed to bounce around when I pull it out of my computer bag after a drive home from work. Now I know. The young girl I spoke to at Verizon awhile ago said that Tuesday was the earliest I could receive what is the right battery cover. That means I probably won’t get it until Wednesday.
This would all be good for a big laugh were this not a product of rampant stupidity on the part of Verizon and its employees. Or maybe it is rampant stupidity mixed with gross negligence or they are just being mean to me. I know that the latter sounds paranoid but I really have been riding their asses at Verizon like jockeys at Churchill Downs on Derby Day. Poor little gal, the last I spoke to, I told her rather loudly that “I DON’T CARE IF YOU SEND THE THING AT CHRISTMAS!!!” That is probably what they will do.
Now that I have that out of my system, perhaps I will let someone know what I really think about Verizon.
Early French and Spanish explorers who punched their clocks and set out to ramble through the upper Gulf Coast of Texas left stories of encountering fierce and, at times, foul-smelling natives.
These Indians, some of whom were named the Atakapa, were said to eat their enemies which is only understandable given the band’s name was a Choctaw derivative for the word “man-eater.” The foul-smelling part — something one might handle in exchange for not being dinner — was from alligator and other types of animal grease and oil to ward off mosquitoes.
The chemical mixture DEET would certainly work just as well as alligator oil, one would assume, yet I had no idea yesterday morning when I left home and crossed the Neches River for Orange that I would be swarmed by mosquitoes. I mean, it’s February, you know.
The salt marsh mosquito. Look for the white-banded legs. Yeah. Photo - Jefferson County Mosquito Control District
My part-time work requires casual business attire of which I am relatively certain one would find unattractive with a heavy smearing of alligator oil. Now I could have found alligators with a little scouting yesterday, as I was in Orange County, Texas. The county bordering southern Louisiana has plenty of marshes and an abundance of river bottom, the latter due to the county being bordered to the west by the Neches River and on the east by the Sabine. Although one might find an alligator with a bit of hunting it doesn’t mean that one should just walk up to one of the fearsome-looking and rather dangerous reptiles, stick in an oil spout and expect the gator’s bodily fluids to freely flow. Or at least that wouldn’t happen without a serious tussle with the animal.
Of course, stopping into a corner store and purchasing a can of Off for an inflated price would be a lot simpler solution and one much safer than trying to drill for alligator oil. Yet I didn’t plan to stay out of my car for a very long period of time so why bother with the time and money spent? Well, maybe to prevent having the mosquitoes bite the crap out me would be one consideration.
The upper Texas coast and that of Southern Louisiana is currently experiencing an outbreak of mosquitoes due to the drought-relieving rains and warm winter weather of late. Being bitten by swarming mosquitoes isn’t a pleasant experience. I know, because the damn things have bitten me all my life growing up in Southeast Texas. But their bite also isn’t like the sting of a wasp or yellow-jacket. I’ve had more than my share of those bites too.
Growing up, I used to sit enthralled seeing the city’s red Jeep come through my neighborhood with a fogger in the back of the vehicle puffing out great clouds of DDT. Sometimes kids would jump up and follow behind the Jeep and its magic skeeter-slaughtering clouds. Of course, we knew nothing of the harmful effects which we would learn later about the chemical. Then again, neither did we know much — or at least think much — about the diseases spread by the pesky little mosquitoes.
Stories of malaria were, to me, just another war story my Uncle Ted told about his time during World War II landings in the Pacific islands. Yellow fever was a disease that killed a bunch of folks building the Panama Canal. As I got a little older in childhood I started hearing stories about “sleeping sickness” which mostly killed horses but would take a little kid’s life every now and then. It would be much later that I heard of “West Nile Virus” and just how much havoc the mosquito once wreaked upon our area of the Texas Gulf Coast and the world at large. For instance:
For a little historic perspective, about 100 residents of Beaumont and Sabine Pass — in my county — died from an 1862 outbreak of Yellow Fever. The late Southeast Texas historian W.T. Block wrote that the epidemic emanated from a Civil War blockade runner that had made it into the estuary of Sabine Pass.
If there is good news about the influx of skeeters as of late it is that most are the pesky “salt marsh” mosquito which are not carriers of West Nile. The Jefferson County Mosquito Control District says the medium-sized brown mosquitoes are distinguished with white bands on their legs. The mosquitoes are
” … very aggressive biters, both day and night. The eggs are deposited in rice fields, fallow fields, & pastures in any depression that will hold water, including hoof prints. These mosquitoes are attracted to Beaumont and other areas in the western half of the county by the glow of lights at night, which are easily seen from as far away as Fannett or China (Texas) We try to intercept these mosquitoes on the edge of town as they migrate in. Residents can do nothing to help us control this species.”
Personally, I try not to look at the mosquitoes any longer than it takes to swat or smash them. I therefore don’t search for bands on their legs. Also fortunate, they seem to be pretty slow and are pretty easy to slap away.
On the list of supplies to take along on my next trip for work will be the can of Off. I can it place the needed spray in the trunk right next to that cold-weather blanket that I don’t need. I guess if all else fails, perhaps then might be the time to search for a gator.
Okay. Listen very carefully. A hell of a solar storm is wrapping itself over the planet. Everyone needs to follow these important instructions:
1. Take off all your clothes.
2. Rub Elmer’s glue all over your body.
3. Wrap yourself in aluminum foil from head to toe. When you get to the head, you need to start wrapping the foil until you can make yourself a cone. A cone will act as an antenna for the radioactive impulses emanating from the sun. The charges will flow along all four sides of your body from the cone into the ground. In about three months, this will be a great place to plant strawberries, squash or watermelons as the ground becomes charged with radioactive particles.
4. Once the solar storm passes, carefully unwrap the aluminum foil from your body and take a long bath in a mixture of white vinegar and soap powder.
5. Enjoy living without your aluminum wrap.
This is your brain on drugs. No, wait it is radiation from the sun, or something or other.
Chump.
Please don’t follow the above instructions. Someone would have to take you out into the desert or the forest and shoot you for being too stupid.
The northern lights may be quite spectacular in some places due to the solar activity. Just how far south it might be seen is beyond my paygrade. But check out this story. Plus, this NOAA map shows the area of auroral activity worldwide and shows activity as far South as St. Louis, albeit not heavy activity. Theoretically, the lights can be seen anywhere north of the Equator, depending on the intensity of the solar activity and magnetic pole positioning. One story I read says the lights may be seen once or twice every 100 years south of the Tropic of Cancer, which runs along the middle of Mexico, the Gulf of Mexico and near Key West in the Western Hemisphere.
I doubt we will see the northern lights here in Southeast Texas because, thankfully, we are due some heavy rain. I’d love to see the aurora borealis. But there are always a lot of spectacular sites one may see out there in the sky. I’ve spent more time than I can remember looking at eclipses, meteor showers, Halley’s, Hale-Bopp and the heavenly bodies viewed with both telescopes and without. All you have to do is look up. And like the story in the Chronicle says, all you have to do is look north for the aurora borealis and, hopefully, have a clear night.
Down on the left of my computer desk top is a copy of my W-2 form from my part-time job. For various reasons, this past tax year didn’t see a lot of income from my other job as a freelancer. That needs to change. That is another story. I will use a computer application I have used for the past four years to file. It’s pretty simple. I am all for simple.
I could rant here about the need for simplifying the tax code. It needs simplifying. Or I could rail on how the top 1 percent need to pay more taxes. A New York Times interactive feature the other day showed what percentage in which I happen to reside. I am in the bottom 30 percent.
All I know is the quicker I get my return done, the quicker my fate will be revealed. Will I pay or will I be refunded? Probably I will receive a small refund. To some fat cats, that means I am one of those who doesn’t pay taxes so I should just shut up. The hell you say.
Well, I just know I will file pretty soon. It won’t be a big deal. If it is, don’t call me to do your taxes ’cause you’d just end up playing tennis in one of those places where the Feds keep you for 20 months or so while you work on your backhand. But here is a good person to call for those complicated returns, Jake Barnett. He’s the 13-year-old math prodigy featured Sunday on “60 Minutes.”
Jake’s is an amazing story, first brought to light in this article by the Indianapolis Star’s Dan McFeely.The child faced a rocky road because of autism. It wasn’t long before he was taking college classes and will graduate in a couple of years. If he doesn’t end up doing something which wins a Nobel Prize or two, he can at least earn a great living preparing taxes. Hey Jake’s parents: I doubt he needs any motivation, but if he does …
