ONLY $42.35 BUT THE MEMORIES ARE PRICELESS

              

Hi again, folks.  Well, this past Saturday afternoon, I bought the first pair of new footwear I’ve purchased in an embarrassingly long time.  It’s one thing to be committed to a green, recyclable, buy used first, renewable-resource lifestyle but I suspect that even that can be overdone.  I’ve also noticed something about fanatics which makes me not want to be one.  They don’t seem to have much of a sense of humour, do they?

 

To me, then, though this is hardly a majour financial event in my life, it has been cause for some additional reflection.  (I’ve been considering new sandals for about three months now.)  Like the so many of those who live and work in the Puget Sound, “Birkenstocks,” per se, are the footwear of choice. 

 

Money’s been a bit tight over the last several years so I haven’t had the option of a resole.  Apparently, now that times are better, it’s too late for that.  As a good friend remarked recently,

 

“Rusty, if you love those shoes at all, you’ll let them die with dignity and give them a decent wake.”

 

The same friend told me about an easy shoe store two blocks from where I live and bet me I could buy a new pair for under $50, bag a jar of instant coffee and meet them back at the house in a half hour.

 

Turns out they were wrong.  It only took me 25 minutes. 

 

And I wore the new purchase home.  With the old friends and loyal companions wrapped in tissue in the box the successors came in.  At sunrise tomorrow, I’m going down to the Ship Canal and put the box in the water to let the current carry it away.  I like the idea that by the time these sandals reach the Puget Sound, they’ll be on their way to providing miniature reefs for new colonies of marine life.

 

 

                

 

These new ones were a little stiff so I remembered what my (infamous) Grandpa Seamus did with new saddles, harnesses, belts and other leather goods we used on the ranch.  I applied a thin coat of Vaseline to the contact points and set them on the front desk to warm up in the sun.  Then I worked those contact points and the straps with my fingers until they softened up even more.  Then, after donning a pair of wool sox, I put them on and walked a mile or two.  Welcome to my world, new friends.

 

I remember how Seamus smelled when he came in from a session in the tack room.  It was a richly aromatic blend of leather, Vaseline, denim and perspiration.  I was gone many years from the ranch when I came across something which came close to that blend.  It was a line of men’s cologne and aftershave called “English Leather.”  I was a teenager back then so there’s an additional host of recollections these new sandals evoke.

 

 

               

 

So yep, to paraphrase a popular commercial I really like, the shoes only cost $42.35.  The memories, of course, are priceless.

 

Until next time, then, take care, stay well and God Bless.

 

Rusty

HAPPY SUMMER (FINALLY) FROM SEATTLE

 

                 

                  Montlake Cut looking east across Lake Washington to Bellevue

 

Well, hi again folks and Happy Summer.  It was a little late getting to our part of the world but it has, indeed, arrived.  We’ve acquired some aloe vera plants and a nice, energy efficient fan.  That and two open windows is pretty much what they mean by Seattle Air Conditioning.  For specifics, http://www.king5.com/weather/

 

It’s been interesting watching McCain and Obama trade shots.  Normally, this kind of behaviour reminds me of a perfume squirting contest between two woods kitties.  No matter who wins, neither one comes out smelling like themselves.

 

But this has a different feel to it.  As near as I can tell so far, they’re actually complementing each other.  One’s allegedly poor in economics but great in the international arts and vice versa. 

 

It also brings to mind what Mark Twain said about Rudyard Kipling, when he contended that in all the universe, there were two most remarkable men.  Kipling was one and he, Twain, was the other   Between them, they covered all knowledge.  Kipling knew all that could be known and Twain knew the rest.

 

 

 

To me, it’s a refreshing change of pace and if they can keep it up, no matter which of them wins, he’ll still be able to work with the other.  I’ve said it before and still maintain that whoever becomes president is going to have an uphill battle for awhile restoring at least the impression of dignity and equanimity to the Oval Office. 

 

And I do not imagine Americans or anyone in the International Community is going to have much patience with the Chief Executive contention that one person knows better than three hundred million what's best for them; or whether that quaint notiion is trumpeted by a pachyderm or brayed by jackass.  That styling of governing went out with the divine right of kings and it has no more place in a democracy than the gunboat diplomacy which made it possible in the first place.

 

I, personally, am optimistic.  Unassailably so.  For years, both well intentioned folks and those who simply enjoy jerking my chain have tried to convince me there’s no Santa Claus, no Easter Bunny, Tooth Fairy, Great Pumpkin, UFOS, gremlins, leprechauns, unicorns and that there is especially no such creature as a rational American.

 

                                                   

 

Until next time, then, eh?  And thanks for the ear.

 

Rusty

                                                

HAPPY INDEPENDENCE DAY

              

                         

Hi again folks.  Well, since this is a multi-national household and Sam and Felina took care of Canada Day, it falls to me to discuss America’s independence day.  I hope I can do it with the same integrity as those two other members of the global family.

I am not, at present, a real happy American.  I’ve lost a lot of faith in both the Executive branch and the Congress.  I haven’t been real pleased with presidential campaigns which call into question a tortured POW’s ability to raise his arms easily beyond a certain point and another which makes more of an issue about another candidate being half black rather than half white.  I also don’t like the idea that the Clintons thought Hillary needed Bill to help her out in the first place.

 

I don’t much like an infrastructure that makes me wonder if Katrina Relief wasn’t deliberately bungled because New Orleans is still Southern.  I don’t much care for the idea that Iraq veterans are returning with concussion wounds to the state of facilities like Walter Reed Hospital.  I don’t like the idea that a bridge in Minneapolis-St. Paul collapsed and for awhile focused the nation’s attention on why structures like that fell into such disabuse. 

 

I’ve never felt that greed and insecurity were the sole province of any political party,nationality, gender, etc.  John F. Kennedy said it best for me when he asserted that any problem created by a human being could be rectified by a human being.  God willing and the desire is there.

 

 

                                                        

 

There’s not much I, as Rusty Miller, can do to directly influence the fate of the planet, the nation, perhaps even my state and community.  But I can certainly do things that a growing number of others are doing on ALL those levels.

 

To me, independence, then, is also a personal issue.  Perhaps we, as individuals and as a nation, have looked a bit too long and depended a little too much on Washington, DC, when we should have been looking a little closer to home.  Perhaps, in our haste to keep a bit more than we’ve really needed, we’ve forgotten who we really are.

 

At least to me, we’re Americans.  We’re families, neighborhoods, small towns and cities made of small towns.  We’re about working hard for and going home to those we love and care about.  On the one hand, we consider ourselves so sophisticated but on that world stage, we’re sentimental and schmaltzy and probably the most embarrassingly obnoxious group of individuals ever assembled under one flag and 50-odd. 

 

We’re also a country whose people, according to a recent United Nations survey, contribute more per capita to international relief efforts than any nation on the planet.  In the past, whether it turned out in our best interests, America has also gone to bat for the little guy because that’s who we also are.  We’re either all little guys or descended from same.

 

              

 

In the days and weeks ahead, I’m going to talk about what some of us little folks in Seattle are doing and I’d love to hear from you in those regards, with permission to share with the whole “family,” as it were.

 

            

 

My venerable grandfather Seamus spoke for OUR house when he observed of both Americans and the human species in general:

 

“Rusty, we’re not doing too bad for a critter that was created last with what was left over.”

 

 

                                        

 

Happy Independence Day, folks.

 

Rusty

 

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HAPPY CANADA DAY FROM COUGARS CORNER

              

                             

                      HAPPY  CANADA DAY

                               

SAM:               Well, Felina.  Happy Canada Day, Lass.

 

FELINA:          Thank you, Dear. 

 

SAM:               And how old is the nation of your birth?

 

FELINA:          She’s 141, Sam.

 

SAM:               I’ve got to hand it to her.  She sure holds her age well.

 

FELINA:          Thank you, Dear.

 

SAM:               And she’s a big country.

 

FELINA:          At 3,800,000 square miles, the second largest in the world

 

SAM:               With a population density of about four humans per square mile, that also makes Canada the fourth most sparsely humanly settled nation on the planet, as well.

 

FELINA:          True enough, Dear.  But that’s not to mean we’re not of some consequence on the human world stage.

 

SAM:               Nope, Felina.  It certainly does not.  According to what I’ve read, of all of the world's producers of natural gas, copper, zinc, nickel, aluminum, and gold, Canada is in the top five.

 

FELINA:          Canada is also the world’s fifth largest energy producer, the eighth largest world trader and has the ninth largest economy.  And for all of that, it also has what is believed to be the world’s smallest jail, in Rodney, Ontario. It is only 24.3 square meters or about 270 square feet.

 

SAM:               Which suggests either an extremely low crime rate or lots of very small perpetrators, eh, Felina?

 

FELINA:          Thank you, Dear.  We are also rated on the United Nations Human Development Index as the best nation in the world in which to live.

 

SAM:               Jeez Louise, Felina.  Who’d have thought, eh?

 

FELINA:          Yes, Dear, and despite the recent controversy, we do NOT own the North Pole.  No nation does.  It is, however, believed that Santa Claus is Canadian. 

 

SAM:               So much to be proud of and yet for so long, you’ve lived in the shadow of your southern neighbor.

 

FELINA:          Only in American eyes, Sam.  During World War II and the Holocaust, the concentration camps had places where the possessions of gassed Jews were sorted out from their clothes by Jews not yet selected for extermination.  Some of this jewelry and gold was funneled back into the inmate population and to the resistance movement in camps like Treblinka.  Those sorting places were called Canada Houses.

 

SAM:               Happy Canada Day, Felina.

 

FELINA:         Thank you, Sam.  And on that note, gentle readers?  Until next time, take care, stay well and may the Creator bless and keep you.

 

To learn more about my country, please start here.  Felina