Watch Out, Sparky

I was about to pound on the window for umpteenth time, when I stopped myself.

public domain image

Instead, I watched the squirrel's antics as he contorted his body to try and get at the bird seed in my feeder. 

I had to laugh. 

On the one hand, he was a jerk for eating my birdseed. On the other, he was just so stinking entertaining, I had to give him his props.

The birdhouse suspends from a wire on a metal hook, so it was swinging back and forth as Sparky (as we'll call him) was hanging on for dear life while poking at the tiny holes in the feeder to access the seed. (I had intentionally chosen a birdhouse with small feeder holes, so the birds could get the seed but it would be tough for a squirrel to do so.)

I'm not sure if he ever did get a snack out of the deal, or if he decided the effort was too much and gave up. I've seen a series of squirrels try, with mixed success.

At one point, it occurred to me that maybe I should be more like a squirrel. They really leave it all on the table. They play hard, work hard and just go balls out every day.

On the other hand, they're not so good in traffic. Their erratic, indecisive nature makes them an unfortunate target for large vehicles. 

Which brings to mind Mr. Ginley's admonition to squirrels as they dart in front of our car when we're driving along city streets.

He proclaims in a lighthearted tone of voice, "Watch out, Sparky, we wouldn't want to have to kill you!"

Sparky, you've been put on notice.

Danish Ephemera

The area labeled "Ephemera" is my favorite at the Case Western Reserve University book sale. 

Mr. Ginley has discovered its joys, too. And we spent at least an hour just in that one section of the gym where the sale was held.

We picked up a lot of flotsam and jetsam. One of the gems I found was a book of postcards. The title of the book says "Til Erindring om Kjobenhavn." I didn't really know where it was from. Or even when they were printed. But I was so intrigued, I took a chance and figured I'd investigate later.

First off, I discovered the writing on the cover is Danish. "Til Erindring" means "For Remembrance." And "om Kjobenhavn" means "About Copenhagen."

It makes sense, of course. Still, there is no indication of date. My best guess is that it was printed circa the turn of the last century. One postcard features a boulevard with what looks like horse carriages. I didn't see any motor vehicles. As to the dress of people, the only thing I could glean from the few blurry bystanders was a top hat or two.

The only other clue was a flyleaf in the middle of the book that said, "Eduard Otto & Co." with ornate borders and lettering.

Alas, I may never know the true origins. Still, it's been fun to peer into the past and consider my newfound treasure. The photographer, long passed, would have no way of knowing how the world would change. Two world wars would crumble Europe's social status quo. Machines would arrive and take over. Strolls down the boulevard would become quaint. And one day electronic devices would take control of everyday social life.

I decided to go through the postcards one by one and see if the subject was still around. Here are my findings:

Det kgl. Theater (aka the Royal Danish Theater) was built in 1874 and is still going strong.

Amalienborg Palace: Home of the Danish Royal Family. Built in 1760.

Rosenborg Slot: Renaissance castle built in 1606.

Thorvaldsens Museum: Dedicated to Danish neoclassicist sculptor Albert Bertel Thorvaldsen. The artist spent most of his life in Italy. When he returned to his homeland, he was given a hero's welcome. Thorvaldsen died in 1844 and is buried in the courtyard of the museum, which was built in 1837.

Marmorkirken (officially Frederikskirken): A Neo-Baroque marble church with a grandiose dome that was inspired by St. Peter's in Rome. Construction began in 1749 but soaring costs halted the project. Thanks to the benevolence of financier CF Tietgen, construction eventually resumed and the church was consecrated in 1894.

Borsen: 17th Century Stock Exchange. This popular building is renowned for its distinctive spire, which is shaped like four dragon tails twisted together.

Kvoesthusbroen: I couldn't find a definitive result (in English), but the photo is of a pier with boats docked around it. 

Langelinie:  The name is from the 17th Century. It was originally a military area and later became a park and promenade. I suspect the building shown is the original pavilion, which was constructed in 1888 and replaced by a modern structure in 1958. 

Orstedsparken: A public park that was inaugurated in 1879.

Vesterbros Passage med Frihedsstotten: Vesterbros Passage is a section of Copenhagen, and the Frihedsstotten (aka "The Liberty Memorial") is an obelisk commemorating peasant reforms in 1788 that abolished serfdom.

Tivolis Facade: Entrance to the Tivoli Gardens. 

Badstuen ved Frederiksborg: "Badstuen" means "bathhouse" – in this case, one associated with Frederiksborg Castle, which was built in the 17th century by King Christian IV. It burned down in 1859, was rebuilt and then reopened in 1882. 

I hope you've enjoyed this little jaunt through Copenhagen. I don't know if any of you have been there, but I think it unlikely I'll ever visit, so these postcards will have to do. 

Pagenhor! (Goodbye till next time!)

Cast of Character

It wasn't until years after the incident that my sister told me what my Dad said the day I broke my wrist on the playground at school when I was in fifth grade.

The only photo of me with a cast (bottom row)

"She couldn't just break her wrist. It had to be a compound fracture. And they had to call in a specialist to fix it."

To be fair, I knew he was just blowing off steam. My Dad was genuinely worried about me. And as a parent, I can understand the financial burden it placed on him.

But falling in spectacular fashion was not my intention. And if given a choice, I'd rather not have had a compound fracture. (Or any broken bone, for that matter.)

In fact, considering the doctor didn't use any anesthesia, it's difficult to imagine why the cost of repairing my arm was so much more expensive. But doctors will be doctors, and they have to pay for their Mercedes somehow.

Thinking back, I find it difficult to believe that if I'd broken my arm today I'd be treated with the same "suck it up" attitude I got as a child. I remember vividly that they sent my Mom out of the room and down the hall while they fixed my wrist.  

A compound fracture meant that not only did my wrist break, but the bone separated. The procedure they used to fix the break took advantage of all the advancements in science to that point. 

To wit...the doctor held my elbow, the nurse grabbed my wrist and they yanked in opposite directions until the two parts of the bone shifted. Then they squeezed them together to realign them.

Again, this was done without so much as a bullet to bite on. 

The reason they sent Mom away became apparent very quickly. I screamed. Loudly. Again. And again. 

After the deed was done, Mom returned, looking ashen but relieved that I had not been murdered after all. At that point, Dr. Demento and Nurse Ratched were applying the plaster cast to my arm. It went from the top of my hand to about six inches above my elbow. My arm was out of commission for the next six weeks.

Alas, the accident happened shortly before school let out for the year, so my normal summer-fun activities were severely curtailed. Plus, I had to relearn basic activities like bathing and dressing. And new ones such as how to scratch an itchy, scaly arm in a cast using a drinking straw.

A couple of weeks before I was to have my cast removed, I was playing tag with the neighborhood kids. I whipped around a little too quickly and clocked Donna in the head. Thankfully, there was no lasting damage, but my mother chewed me out vociferously for quite some time – mostly because I had been running around willy-nilly, disobeying her strict orders that I engage only in sedate activities. 

"What if you'd broken that cast? Do you know how expensive it would be to make another trip to the emergency room?

And so, we came full circle. 

Fortunately, the cast was removed on schedule. Aside from having a shrivelly, pale, disgusting appendage for a time, all was well.

Until about a year later, when my younger brother broke his thumb. 

Lucky for him, it wasn't a compound fracture.

Waiting With Click-Baited Breath

Of all the things my mom had to worry about in her lifetime, click-bait wasn't one of them.

And I believe that I can safely say she'd be the first to admit she was totally okay with that.

There are many things Boomers have to deal with that our parents never did. Contrary to what the youngsters may tell you, we're a whole lot more savvy than we've been given credit for. Sure, I'll admit to having my son help me resolve issues with my phone. And it did take me a bit to get up to speed on downloading apps and such.

Still, Boomers have lived through an accelerated technological era, so I think we should be forgiven if it takes us a few tries to catch up.

For example, I learned to type on a manual typewriter. My first real job was typesetting on a then-state-of-the-art computer that electronically imprinted my copy onto film one line at a time. When I got to J.B. Robinson Jewelers, I was among the first to use the Wang word processor, which predated Excel and required you to type in code to set up the columns to print a spreadsheet. At Sterling, I learned Quark, which was a program the designers used to do layouts for signs and catalogs. A few years after that, the internet came along, and I was working on websites, then emails. Today I write articles and content for various websites using the tools and tricks of SEO (search engine optimization). 

All-in-all, I'd say that's quite a ride. So when youngsters get all high and mighty about the current generation being so much more tech savvy than their elders, I just roll my eyes.

I will admit there are some stereotypes that stick to me like peanut butter on the roof of your mouth. Yes, I do Facebook. And I am susceptible to click-bait. I don't believe the random ads like the one that said SAS Shoes was closing and everything was 90% off (lies, lies and more lies). But I simply can't resist certain articles, most of which come from sites "suggested for me." 

For example, this week a FB site called Cinema Shorthand Society had an article about Mel Blanc, the voice of Bugs Bunny and many other cartoon characters. Blanc had a car accident that nearly took his life. He was in a coma for 21 days, and only came out of it when his doctor whispered in his ear, "How are you feeling today, Bugs Bunny?" To which Blanc replied, "Just fine, doc, how are you?" I verified the article on the MeTV website. 

Thanks to a site called Classic Retrovision Milestones, I learned that yesterday was rock-'n-roller Suzi Quatro's 72nd birthday. Quatro, who had a recurring role in Happy Days as Leather Tuscadero, has racked up more than 50 million album sales during her bass-playing career.

Of course, I know I'm not the only one who takes the bait. There are plenty of friends' re-posts that take me off the beaten track. For example, I got sucked into an article from Psychology Today about why some people have such a bad sense of direction. That one hit awfully close to home, but it also provided me with some valuable insights as to why Mr. and I are always at odds when it comes to mapping out new routes. If you're similarly destination-challenged, you can read the article here. 

Well, enough rambling for today, I need to move along with my busy day. 

Oh, wait, look at how stinkin' cute those otters are. I'll just watch this one video...