Darlusz Meets Jackson

Editor's Note: Darlusz Zabagaiski, the Polish ceramic/plastic frog that lives in our house and serves as the household muse, is guest writing today's blog post:


I dunno. Dis Jackson, I dunno what to tink. Monday, Jeff come home, he got furry little animal wit 'im. Black curly fur, really, what you say, hyper. Jeff say furry ting is a called a puppy. Jeff say it name Jackson and it live wit us. Is cute.  Still, I worry.

Matt come home soon, I thought. He fix this. I worry dis Jackson iz too much. Maybe Matt tell Jackson live somewhere else, I hope.

But when Matt come home, he all thrilled wit dis ting Jackson. He lay down on driveway with little animal and start play wit it. Matt no like me no more? I tot we team. I get sad. Maybe he want me leave? Where I go? I not like da other frog who can live in da swamp. I get cold. Scared big animal come eat me.

Finally, Matt notice I in corner and I no look good.

Jackson the puppy and Darlusz the Polish
frog introduce themselves to each other. 

"OK, what's wrong, Darlusz,?" Matt asked, as Jackson, dat little black animal follow Matt, playing around Matt ankles.

I tol Matt why I worry.

"You worry way too much," Darlusz said. This is Jackson. He is going to live with me and Jeff and you for as long as we are all alive. Jackson is a dog. He's fun. He'll get bigger and a little less hyper in a year or two, but he'll still be fun to play with."

"But dare room for all us? I have to go live somewhere else? Where?," I asked.

"Why would you think that,?" Matt said. "There's plenty of room for all of us. You'll stay here. I told you from the beginning you can stay here forever."

"But you pay attention to dog. You just put me in corner and forget me, right,?" I asked. If you do dat, I must leave. I no want get in way.

Matt laughed and said, "No. You'll always be part of the family.  But Jackson is going to need lots of extra attention, especially when he's young.   He's a puppy, so he's like a little baby. We have to protect him, feed him, keep him out of trouble, and teach him how to live so he doesn't make messes and we all get along. But we'll all be a team. You included."

While Matt talk, I watch da Jackson. I little afraid of it. He smell me. Tug on da foot I hurt last winter.

"When Jackson get bigger, will he eat me? I worry. He has big teeth," I said.

Matt said he would protect me, and Jackson will be my friend.

I had other worry. "Will he eat bugs? I like to eat da bugs around here. I no want Jackson steal dem," I said.

Matt thought about that. Then he said, "Well, he'll probably eat a few. But we'll give him his own food. It'll be just like me and Jeff. Jeff and I eat our own kind of food, and you can have the bugs, which Jeff and I don't want. They'll be plenty for you."

Matt look at me. He see I still worry. But he good. He try to help. Here what Matt said.

"Remember when Jeff moved in? You worried I would blow you off. But what happened? We got much happier when Jeff came here.  The added person, especially with it being Jeff, just made things so much better in the house. For a million reasons. It will be sort of the same with Jackson's arrival.  Love, respect and friendship don't come in limited quantities. If you add more happy beings to a household, and you make the effort to support each other, laugh in the good times, help in the bad, the good vibe in the house, the love and warmth and trust just grows and grows."

"Yes, we'll all have to adjust our lives a bit with Jackson here now, but dogs like Jackson are innocent beings who will love and protect you unconditionally. He'll make you laugh, and he'll cheer you up when you're sad. Think of Jackson as a magic little animal that spreads cheer and kindness everywhere. I know you like magic, and happiness and good feelings, right?"

Matt smile at me as he finish da talk.   Dis animal, Jackson, lick my face, like he kiss me. Den he hop around me, like he jump for joy.

I tink maybe Matt right. I be friend with Jackson.  Maybe we have fun. Maybe da two of us can hunt da bug together.  I give it try.

Fire Breather Invades My Heat Wave Refuge.

I sure do seem to attract the unusual.

Fire breather Vincent Izzo does his stuff in
the middle of nowhere last week.

There I was during last week's hot spell at a secluded swimming hole near Bolton, Vermont. It's my favorite place in extremely hot weather.  Hardly anybody goes there, the water stays cold and the brook generates a cool breeze that bounces off the rocks and cools a person down no matter how high into the 90s the temperature is.

So I'm there, me and maybe a couple of other people, the water, lots of trees, nothing else.
Suddenly a gaggle of young people, probably in their 20s come in off the trail. They probably want to take a dip. Or not.

One of the young guys asks a person sitting on a rock if he can borrow his lighter. The smoker obliges. The young guy lights up a torch. He then takes a swig of some liquid and swishes it around his mouth. He holds his mouth near the torch and blows.

A huge burst of flames billows from the kid's mouth. Glad I had the camera.

So, in the middle of nowhere, with almost nobody around, a random person comes in and gives a fire breathing performance.

Our fire breather says his name is Vincent Izzo and he took up the activity as a hobby. You know, like stamp collecting and scrap booking. Only hotter.

Plus I wondered if this was the right kind of fun to have during the worst heat wave in eight years. But who am I to judge?

Izzo says he's honing his skills and hopes to offer more performances for hopefully paying crowds.

It's dangerous business, Izzo says, and I believe him. What if the fire blows in the wrong direction? Or flashes down into his lungs. He said he's already given himself chemical pneumonia once when he accidentaly ingested some of the ultra pure lamp oil he puts in his mouth to do the fire breathing.

If it gets hot again, I'll probably go to the same swimming hole. Just for the entertainment value. Next time, I might get a sword swallower. Or maybe Circ de Soleil.

You never know.

Youngest Lady Gaga Choreographer

I like dancing around to Lady Gaga tunes, which is a frightening thing to think about seeing, given I'm a middle-aged male hick from Vermont. So usually, I keep that under wraps.

Maybe I need a decent choreographer. I would do well to find the choreographer the two women found in the video you can watch below. It's so adorable. A little boy seems to spontaneously come up with moves to the hit Lady Gaga song "Judas" and the two women follow along.

He's really come up with a surprisingly good dance routine to the song. The kid is probably three or four years old. Maybe he's a future judge (or maybe current judge) on Dancing with the Stars for all I know.

Watch the vid. It won't disappoint:

The Forever Rainbow.

It must have been nature's welcome for Jackson, our new eight-week old cocker spaniel. (More on Jackson in an item to be posted soon)

The "it" I refer to was this nice big rainbow that arced over my St. Albans, Vermont home Monday evening. It was Jackson's first day living with us.

This rainbow in St. Albans, Vt. on July 25 lasted a
good 45 minutes

There's a couple pics I took of the rainbow in this post.

What makes me think it was a welcoming rainbow was the fact it lasted so long. It was there continuously, the whole thing, without interruption for a good 45 minutes. Sometimes a more faint, second rainbow appeared with the original one.

You might also remember Darlusz Zabagaiskik the plastic Polish frog that serves as a muse and comic relief for this blog. The first day he arrived at the house, there was a big rainbow, too.

 Another view of the "forever"
rainbow in St. Albans July 25, 2011

Jeff didn't get a rainbow, really. Maybe rainbows don't like humans as much.

Celebrity Montreal Thunderstorm

When I was in Montreal last week, I didn't realize I was meeting an Internet celebrity.

It was the peak of that big heat wave last Wednesday. It was 95 in Montreal, so at least it was three degrees cooler than it was at home in St. Albans, Vermont. But still.

Before the light show: Thunderstorms erupt
over Montreal at sunset, July 21. 

Unlike in the states, some thunderstorms got going just after sunset in Montreal. They did cool things off just a bit.

One thunderstorm, an isolated one, got the most attention. Unlike the line of storms that later hit Montreal this one drifted to the southeast of the city. It was a tall, immense, round tower of roiling clouds, with lightning sparking from it like crazy.


Seems everybody in the city aimed their cameras at the light show. Even lively Rue St. Catherine in Montreal stopped as people gazed at the lightning spitting from the cloud south of the city. It looked like the forerunner of some alien invasion.

Some of the best videos of the storm are here and here.

Below is the video I shot of the "alien storm" I shot from a corner on Rue St. Catherine. I like the sound of the street musician in the background as the lightning flashes and sputters:

Scenes From Montreal

Jeff and I needed a big city break, so we drove an hour and a half north Wednesday for a visit to Montreal. I took some photos:

Some sort of bridal photo shoot in
Montreal's Old Port

A bunch of decorations strung over St.
Catherine Street with a building in
the background.

A scene in Montreal's Old Port

Me after a sweaty climb up
Mount Royal in Montreal.

The weather felt like we made a wrong turn and ended up in Houston, but between Circ de Soleil and other attractions it was worth the trip.

Boobs Againsts Haboobs

There's some people in Phoenix, Arizona that are upset over the haboobs that have hit the city this month.

Some people in Arizona say we shouldn't call dust
storms like this "haboobs"

Haboobs are big dust storms and I can see why they're upsetting. Imagine vacuuming the house after one of those things.

But the dust is the least of the problem for some of these people, it turns out. They don't like people calling these dust storms haboobs. And the problem isn't because the word "haboob" prompts lots of snickers from middle school age boys.

No, haboob is an Arabic word and since, according to a few people, we're supposed to hate all things Middle Eastern, we should not use that word, according to an article in yesterday's New York Times. 

Not many people feel this way, of course, but I love the logic of them anyway.  There are a few Middle Eastern terrorists we need to get rid of, for sure. And many Middle Eastern countries aren't exactly oases of human rights and democratic, transparent governments. Apparently, saying "haboob" gives comfort and support to terrorists. To solve those problems, we should stop saying "haboob."

Right.

Yes, some Middle Eastern issues are problematic. One critic in the Times article wondered how a soldier would feel after coming home from Iraq and hearing the word "haboob."  We don't need to be reminded of those awful towel heads, the critic seems to be saying.

My guess is said soldier wouldn't really care about the origins of the word "haboob" He would probably say. "Great. Not another #&%*!*!! dust storm."

Linguists also note that expunging Arabic words from the language, if we wanted to be pure about it, would be inconvenient. We would no longer be allowed to say "algebra." Actually, I'm for that. I hate algebra. But we'd also be unable to say, for instance "zero," "pajamas" and "khaki."

Call those dust storms in Arizona just dust storms if you want. But if you call them "haboobs" I don't think that will worsen terrorism or political tensions in the Middle East, do you?  Maybe we should not concentrate on "haboobs" and instead keep plugging away at the messier job of  fighting terrorism and encouraging democracy in the Middle East.