The Spring of Sparrow Feuding

(Today's muse is a perky Sauvignon Blanc from New Zealand (ask if you want to know the vintner). Tart fruit with overtones of lemongrass, minty cool and leaving my breath fresh and clean... no wait... that was the toothpaste this morning... never mind. Anyway, the wine is super!)
In our region these days, the hatching in the wild of Japanese Crested Ibis – the first time in 36 years – is dominating the news, but, keeping to the birdie theme, I want to talk about a more down-to-earth bird and its habits, the sparrow.
Sparrows come and build nests under the eaves of our house every spring (see Exhibit A).

Exhibit A

This vernal squatting behavior means that I get a chance to observe sparrow activity up-close and personal on a routine basis.
It is not as boring as you might think.
First of all, the deck below the eaves gets littered with nest building materials. (See Exhibit B). Naturally, one wonders why so much of the nest building material ends up on the deck and not in the niches under the eaves.
We nature observers, full of patience and wonder for Nature's eternal cycle of birth, life and death, are especially keen to answer these burning questions about the natural events that transpire around us.
So, let's inspect the happenings under the eaves.

Jethro is the first to return from wintering in the trailer parks down south somewhere and moves in with a flourish, building a splendid nest in the choicest location at the top of the stack on the north side out of the wind but facing the sun (Exhibit A). He and his mate, Bobbie Mae, begin their joyful nest building and stuff their convenient spot with hay, miscellaneous cat fur and whatever else they find around.
Unfortunately, latecomer Bubba sees what they are up to and remembers that HE was almost first up from the trailer parks last year, so he flies in and begins to build his nest with his mate, Savannah Lee (a serious hottie). The two of them stuff the eaves – only one spot over in an almost equally prime location. (I am not making this up.) Some of their nest materials are actually TOUCHING the nest of Jethro and Bobbie Mae!
Naturally, Jethro is not keen on this.

"Honeypie?" He says, "That braggart Bubba has done gone and horned in with a nest next to our'n."
"Wail... whatcha gonna do about it, Jethro? Ah never liked that Bubba much... Ah don' think ah want him moovin in nex door."
"You were WITH him just lass year, Bobbie Mae! Whatchuu mean you NEVER liked him?"
"Wail... let me tail you somethin' Jethro... ah wuz with him... yes, that's true, but ah never loved him lahk ah doo you."
"Oh, Bobbie Mae, you made a poem fer me! Ah am so touched. Ah luv you too, sweetie. So we need to do somethin' about Bubba!"

So Jethro goes over when Bubba is away and rips his nest apart and throws it down onto the deck (see Exhibit B).

Exhibit B

Then he and Bobbie Mae fly off to get more nest building materials to really fix up their prime spot with good stuff.
It is best not to skimp on the hay.
It's also best not to leave your nest alone.
Naturally, Bubba (who thinks he should have the prime location) comes back from a simple outing to visit the relatives (on the other side of the house) and is not keen to find his nest on our deck.

"Oh muh gawd!" Bubba spits out over his cud (or whatever it is that birds eat). "Sweets, come an' look at THIS!"
Savannah Lee flies over from the telephone wire.
"Oh Bubba!" She bursts into tears.... "What has happened to our nest? Our home!"
"It's that dayum Jethro. Ah juss know it. Ah betcha he come over here with his slut of a wahf and trashed our nest!"
"Wasn't you an' Bobbie Mae together lass year?"
"Hmm... coulda been... but ah tail you, sweets, she ain't nothin' compared to you!"
"Oh Bubba! You juss make me feel all warm and fuzzy inside!" She bats her eyelashes (or something... hey! I am not a bird... live with it!) at him. But, snookums, what're we gonna do about this? We ain't got no nest no more!"
"Yeah? Wail ah will show him!"

And Bubba hops over to tear out Jethro's nest and throws IT all down onto the deck (see Exhibit B)

And this goes on and on until Uncle Clem (on the other side of the house) tells them that they are brothers and that they need to get along. Eventually, cousin Elvis with his partner Sally Lou moves in too.

"Hey Jethro!" Savannah Lee tweets, "How y'all doin' over there?"
"Ahm doin' OK, Savannah? You lookin' purty good yersef!"
"Ahm not only LOOKIN' good, hon, ah AM good too..."
At which point Bobbie Mae chirps in, "You leave Jethro alone Savannah Lee! You done caused enough troubles round here with your flirtin' and sassy ways!"
"Me?! I saw you in cousin Buford's nest last week! Don' talk to ME about flirty ways!"
"You did not!"
And Jethro tweets furiously, "You was WHAT? In cousin Buford's nest?!"
"No, honey, it weren't me! She's juss makin' that all up. Mean bitch!"

And so it goes from five in the morning until late in the day. Nothing settles down until the first eggs are laid: the blessing of nature's life-cycle, right here on the deck.

Getting Creative – One Martini at a Time

You think it's easy to write this stuff every week – trying not to be distracted and making up something funny?
It's not.
I rack my brain, thumb through the papers and magazines, and click my way around the internet to come up with ideas, but sometimes I just draw a blank. There is nothing funny going on!
When that happens, I often fall back on the convenience of a rant, make fun of conservatives in the US or bogus religious ideas, but – let's face it – that stuff is lame and facile. You can be almost legally brain dead and still take on Republicans effectively these days.
Like all this stuff about Romney's wife not working a day in her life... but wait... I wasn't going to get into that today.
What I need is a muse, some source of inspiration for writing. A writing fairy would be just perfect. Those are in short supply, however, so I cast about for something more readily available. How about alcohol?
I wondered about the creative effects of liquor on the writing process and, lo and behold, very quickly discovered that the use of alcohol to loosen the fingers if not the tongue is a well-honored tradition. If it was good enough for the likes of Edgar Allan Poe and Ernest Hemingway, might not I follow in their cups with good results as well?
Not so fast!
As any scientist will tell you, correlation does not equal causation. The fact that many ignorant people watch Fox news does not mean necessarily that it is Fox News that makes them that way. Right? Right?
These famous writers, however, lived before there was a lot of research into the effects of alcohol on creativity and intelligence.
(But just in case, as I write this, I am imbibing a dry Spanish Cava Brut Rosé by CU4TRO (light, strawberry fruit with tart hints of rhubarb and citron, fine mist of bubbles, but a surprising sweetness in the finish with a kiss of sea air.)
Clearly, before I could really start throwing back the moonshine, I needed to find out if I was heading down the path to destruction or up the ladder to a world of inspired prose.
Hello internet.
What I found is that there IS a link between creativity and booze ... yes, yes... I should restrain myself... but even the Wall Street Journal, a pig-wallow of conservative blather (except in this case), reports that people can be more creative while indulging.
Is that cool or what? The Wall Street Journal? Whoa!
So, of course I don't trust them, and need to find a reliable source for information, right? So further investigation reveals that men are smarter under the influence than not!
(All you women out there can JUST SHUT UP!! We guys don't want to hear any eye-rolling about alcohol making us smarter.)
So... getting back to the topic, we can conclude that, in fact, alcohol consumption can not only make people more creative but that in the case of the male of the species, actually increase our intelligence.* (You will have noticed that among the top 15 alcoholic writers, there is only one woman.) There is evidence as well that tippling will particularly bring out the best in writers.
If so, then clearly the next step is to find out if all boozes are equal muses, so to speak (I have moved on to the "tradionnelle" sparkling wine of the same company: crisp and dry, redolent of chalky soil, light fruit with whispers of grapefruit and lime, fine bubbles, and delightful finish with a lingering lick of Toledo steel).
Unfortunately, it seems that famous writers were an eclectic lot. But we writer wannabes cannot afford to take chances, especially those at my age. Looking at the list below, we have three writers whose favorite drink was the gin martini, three who favored wine and two who favored whiskey (though there is some doubt about Edgar Allan Poe).

(in alphabetical order)
Truman Capote – double gin Martini (before lunch!)
William Faulkner – Mint Julep (bourbon)
F. Scott Fitzgerald – gin Martini
Ernest Hemingway – "Pour one jigger of absinthe into a champagne glass. Add iced champagne until it attains the proper opalescent milkiness. Drink three to five of these slowly," or also Mojito (rum)
Aldous Huxley – wine
James Joyce – wine
John Keats – wine
Jack Kerouac – Margarita (tequila)
Jack London – gin Martini
Carson McCullers (another woman!) – Long Island Iced Tea (covered all the bases with gin, vodka, tequila, rum and Cointreau in equal portions)
Edgar Allan Poe – whiskey (but buried with half a bottle of cognac)
Dylan Thomas – whiskey, beer

So in conclusion, my instinct to start with wine for this article was a good one, but perhaps next time I should switch to the gin Martini! Alternating between these two inspirational, literary fairies might finally put me over the top.... one way or the other.

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* It does not, however, make us more coordinated.

Tennessee Evolution

I have written here before about the anti-science folks in the US, so (if you have been reading this) you know how I feel about it.
Not positive.
Tennessee has just passed a law encouraging the teaching in science classes of "other ideas". Additional states, such as Texas, have also promoted or enacted similar laws. What the "conservative" lawmakers passing these bills imagine is that a "Christian" creationist view would be presented in science classes, giving pupils "a choice" about whether they want to accept science or not.
What would such a science class be like? Let's take a look.

Scenario 1
Science Teacher: OK, boys and girls, today we are going to study the science of how the world came to be! As you all know, our world is actually about 6000 years old. When God made the world, he created all the creatures and humans "as is". But then, the humans were bad, so he caused a big flood to happen to sweep them all away.... Yes, Suzie?
Suzie: But my mommy says that the world is billions of years old.
Teacher: (chuckling condescendingly) Well, Suzie, I am sure your mommy is a good cook and a nice wife, but she should leave the science to us science teachers.
Suzie: My mommy is a professor of archeology at the university.
Teacher: Ah! That explains it! As you know, most scientists and even university students are liberals. Going to university almost invariably means you lose your faith and become more liberal in your thinking. Higher education just seems to warp people's minds that way.
Suzie: But didn't you go to university?
Teacher: Yes, but I was able to hold onto my faith and not forget the fundamental truths of my religion despite the liberals around me! They were not able to brainwash ME with education!
So anyway, back to our lesson. After the flood... yes, Johnny?
Johnny: I don't get it. If the world is only 6000 years old, does that mean that humans and dinosaurs lived together?
Teacher: Yes, of course! Humans probably kept baby dinosaurs as pets or even rode them like we ride horses today!
Johnny: Wow! I wish I could ride a dinosaur...
Teacher: Oops, our time is up for today, but please read the creation story that I have just passed out to you, and remember that we will be having a test on the material on Friday. Class dismissed.

This is what the lawmakers imagine the science classes will be like. However, if something other than real science can be taught, who knows what might appear? Let's take a look at the science class next door.

Scenario 2
Science Teacher: OK, boys and girls, today we are going to study the science of how the world came to be! As you all know, Vishnu was sitting in the coils of the giant cobra when a lotus blossom came from his navel... Yes, Sally?
Sally: What is a vishnu?
Teacher: Vishnu is the god of creation, Sally. Surely you know that! Anyway, Vishnu divided the petals into three, one petal became the sea, one petal became the sky, and one petal became the Earth! Isn't that exciting? (impatiently) Yes, Suzie!
Sally: When did all this happen?
Teacher: Oh, it happened millions of years ago and happens even now! You see Vishnu also destroys his creations and rebuilds them in an endless cycle of reincarnation.
Sally: But... how do you know this happened?
Teacher: Sally, the sacred texts tell us it is true! Anyway... boys and girls, that is all we have time for today. Please read the material I have given you about Vishnu and remember that we will have a science test on Friday. Class dismissed.

Human evolution as proven by scientific investigation

Tennessee citizens' evolution after exposure to new science curriculum

The Wino's Guide to Wine Sophistication (whites)

In an earlier post, I provided some helpful guidance for how to appreciate German wines, so today as a follow-up I would like to help raise the level of sophistication in enjoying white wines.
Most of the people I know just swill wine without making any more comment than "this is not bad" while they open the brown paper bag to see what the label looks like. But sometimes even we winos have to drink wine in posh circles – with friends who know the names of wines before they buy them and who pay attention to the niceties of the wine experience.
Most winos think that the problem is the vocabulary. They believe that nothing labels you an indiscriminate lush more than using the wrong words to talk about the wine your host has served you.

Scenario* (at a party where the host is serving wine from a carefully chilled bottle with a white towel wrapped around it)
Host: Here, try this wine. I just read about it in the New York Times and have been drinking nothing BUT for the past couple of weeks. It is SO wonderful.
You: Oh... thank you so much.
Host: (looking expectantly) Well? Aren't you going to take a sip? I am sure you will be amazed!
You: Oh... certainly (taking a sip). Yes... it certainly IS amazing!
Host: Isn't it? What do you think?
You: Yeah... like you said... er... amazing! I really like white wine! It's my favor...
Host: No, I mean about the flavor! What do you sense in the flavor?
You: Oh! The flavor! Yes... truly amazing.
Host: (actually looking down his nose at you even though you are much taller than he is) I see... (moving to another guest) Delores! Here, try this new wine discovery I have made!
Delores: (tasting the wine) Oh, Percy! This is just fabulous! It has such balance and is so clean and direct. Oh my... such a sense of coiled energy with a succulent hint of floral and mineral flavors. Do I detect a note of smoky oak?
Host: (beaming) Yes! And the finish – like crème brûlée! It's a marvelous chardonnay!

Not only are you embarrassed by your complete lack of social skills, but you are also hurt by the fact that the host won't pour you any more wine. Delores gets the refills, and you are left high and dry.
You need to learn to act and talk like the wine expert you are! This will ensure that you not only fit in with the upper crust but that you will also get your fair share of the wine being passed around. In fact, the better you are at showing your expertise, the more wine you will get to drink, so there is a major incentive in picking up this important information.
Fortunately, it's not difficult.
As far as vocabulary is concerned, most wine reviewers write such blatantly ridiculous stuff that you can pretty much string together any words you want and come out sounding like an expert. You do have to pay attention to some basic points. First and foremost among them is whether the wine you are drinking is a white wine or a red. Describing a red as tasting like "honey and brioche" will get you in trouble every time, as will calling a white "dark and earthy"†, so pay attention as the wine is being poured as to it's color.
Most importantly, however, you have to watch your demeanor. You can't just toss it back and wipe your mouth with your sleeve. It's important to pretend that you are savoring the experience and the wine.

Scenario (at a party where the host is serving wine from a carefully chilled bottle with a white towel wrapped around it)
Host: Here, I am dying for you to try this wine. I just read about it in the New York Times and have been drinking nothing BUT for the past couple of weeks. It is SO wonderful.
You: What an amazing color! (swirling the wine gently in the glass) Thank you. (putting your nose into the glass to pretend to enjoy its fragrance) Do I detect hints of Key lime pie and grapefruit?
Host: (beaming) Yes... the fruit is awesome.
You: (taking a large sip but holding it with sophistication in your mouth) Oh yes, the sweet buttered popcorn flavors are distinctive but not overwhelming.
Host: Yes... it is so complex!
Delores: That sounds so good....
You: (swallowing) And the finish is redolent of vanilla oak with a mineral hint of salt of the sea and a lick of cold granite. It's truly an excellent choice, Percy!
Host: Here let me refill your glass. And I have more bottles over there on ice, just help yourself!
Delores: How about me? I want to tell you about the wine too!

With practice, you can make your conversations go more like this, and you will be well on your way to appearing more cultured and getting even more wine in the process.
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* All expressions in this article were found among descriptions of chardonnay wines
† except this one

Thou Shalt Not Eat This

If you live in Japan as a foreigner, you know that whenever you go to a local pub or bar, the other customers will try to challenge your ability to eat Japanese "delicacies". Some of these "delicacies" look like lab specimens, many of which are looking back up at you, as if to say, "I don't think so."

Scenario
Japanese customer sitting next to you: Oh my! You speak such good Japanese!
You: Not really... I can't understand much of what you are saying.
JC: Ha! Ha! Ha! Where are you from?
You: Er... America....
JC: Ah! Big country! Do you like Japanese food?
You (knowing what's coming): Yes, I love it!
JC: Really? Do you know ____ (fill in the blank weird food)?
You: Yes... I had that for breakfast this morning...
JC: Ha! Ha! Well the ____ (fill in the blank weird food) is a specialty around here... I am sure you didn't have AUTHENTIC ____ (fitbwf).
You: Er... it seemed really authentic to me... I mean it was still moving and all.... Is that no good?
JC: HA! NO! You need to eat OUR ____ (fitbwf)! It's the best.
(to the bar owner) One order of ____ (fitbwf) for our American friend here!
You: Oh... thank you so much.. but I did have this for breakfast, so I am kinda full and all......
JC: NONSENSE! When you taste our local ____ (fitbwf), you will be amazed at how different it is!
Now, if you bite the heads off first, they won't wiggle so much in your stomach.

So you do start to wonder. Why DO people eat this weird stuff?
Take "fugu", blowfish. Parts of it are so toxic that it is 1200 times more poisonous than arsenic. One bite and you're sleeping with the fishes. How did that get started? When the first person eating it died, wouldn't they quit trying?

Scenario: 3000 years ago on a beach in Japan
Fisherman Taro: Whoa! Look at THIS one! It puffs up into a ball! (poking it with a stick) Hey cutie... What do YOU taste like?
Fisherman Gō: Cool. Hey, the fire's going good, let's put it on a stick and roast it.
Fisherman Saburo: Good idea! Let me gut it. We can have it with salt. It definitely LOOKS good.
(later)
Saburo: It looks done. Here, why don't you have the first taste, Taro?
Taro: (biting into it) Wow! It's incredibly good. Such a light and delica . . . . . . . .
Gō: Taro? Why are you twitching on the ground like that?
Saburo: Hmm... weird... Do you think it was something in the fish? It looked OK to me.
Gō: I don't know. It sure smelled good. Here, let me have a bite of that.... Hmm... seems fine to me. Maybe he just had an allergic. . . . . . . . . .
Saburo: Gō? Why are you twitching on the ground like that?

So what do you think? Saburo would go on and eat the fish?
And that's not all. What about hakarl. I am sure most of you have never even heard of it, but it is considered an exquisite delicacy of Iceland. Here is a recipe for this delightful appetizer, but in short, it involves letting shark meat putrefy in the ground for months and when it smells sharply of ammonia, you hang it out to "cure" for months. Yum yum! You do have to be careful not to let it rot, however. I haven't looked up the etymology of the word "hakarl" but it sounds like the sound you would make after eating it.

Scenario
Sven: (to American tourist, Ralph) Here is some of my family's homemade hakarl. I put it down last year in November!
Ralph: So it's like a preserved product? (and hopefully) Like a fruit jam or canned peaches?
Sven: Nay! It is putrefied shark meat. I buried it here under all this gravel last November. Then I hung it out to cure. It's like your beef jerky! Yes! Your beef jerky!
Ralph: Er... we don't actually bury the cow and let it putrefy when we make beef jerky....
Sven: Small detail. Here, try some.
Ralph: OMG! It smells like industrial restroom cleaner!
Sven: Ha ha ha! Taste it, the flavor is delicious! Just pop the whole chunk into your mouth.
Ralph: (popping the whole chunk into his mouth) Blurble! Urk! Ha... Hak...HAKARL!!!!!
Sven: Are you OK? Come back out of the bushes there.... have a little more of my hakarl. You should have quickly washed it down with this brennivín (a nasty drink also referred to as Black Death).
Or how about rhubarb, which I love? Did you know the leaves and roots are toxic and have a very powerful laxative effect? It has been used in traditional Chinese medicine for this purpose for centuries. So you have to wonder, how we got around to making rhubarb pies.

Scenario
Chinese farmer Wen: What is this plant growing here along the river? Such a beautiful leaf and red stem! I think it must be edible. Didn't Auntie Wei say it was one of the edible plants here?
Brother Qin: Yes... I think she DID say that! Let's pick some and take it home and make a stir fry with it.
Wen: Good idea!
(later)
It turns out NOT to have been such a good idea, so they decide that it can be used as a laxative.
Many years later....
Marco Polo: What is this interesting plant?
Guide: We call that 大黄. It is a traditional medicinal plant which causes you to... er... badly need to go to the toilet.
Marco Polo: Cool! Let's make a pie out of it. Mario! Get some sugar and let's make a pie out of this vegetable. Get some cinnamon. Does Luigi have any nutmeg left from getting high on it last night? I am sure the pie will be delicious!
Mario: But... he just said... about going to the toilet?
Marco: Never mind! We ARE explorers, aren't we? We bravely eat what nobody has ever eaten before. And anyway, it couldn't possibly be worse than those raw eyeballs in Turfan. Yuck.

So many odd items.
How about castor beans (for castor oil) with the poison ricin? One bean will kill a human being; four beans will kill a horse. Almonds contain deadly quantities of cyanide and have to be specially prepared to prevent people from getting poisoned. And on and on, the mysteries of our human experience.