Mysteries

Life is bursting with mysteries.

For example, how did a simple and smallish tribe of Mongols sweep across Eurasia and dominate all?

If he is out there, how has Bigfoot evaded us for so long?

Why did tattoos become a thing?

Finally, why—considering how good coffee smells—doesn’t it taste as good as Scotch?

—Mitchell Hegman

A Quick Review (February 2019)

Let’s review the last week in weather.

Midday temperatures 40 degrees colder than normal.  Subzero temperatures every night.  Waking each morning to a fresh layer of snow.  Shoveling snow at least once every day.

At this point, I have the greatest accumulation of snowfall I have ever had at my house.

And, yes, after posting this I will swim into heavy layers of clothing so I can brave the cold and shovel the snow gifted to us again last night.

—Mitchell Hegman

Strangely Satisfying

It is largely true that you cannot stand in the way of progress.  But you can stand in a doorway on one foot, pretending you are a stork, just to stop your cat from entering a room he was heading for.  And doing so can be strangely satisfying if the pair of you have been stranded together in the house for two days as late winter storms whip drifts against the doors and windows.   

—Mitchell Hegman

More Rules

Here are a few more rules worth remembering:

—Playing a cello vigorously will always appear to onlookers like an act of brutality.

—Electricity leaks in all directions.

—Hiding valuables in your cat’s litter box is both unique and likely to be successful in protecting them from thieves.  But you might consider the downsides before doing so.

—Not all spiders are creepy.  No.  Wait.  Yes, they are.

—The only thing to fear without hesitation is a jumpy five-hundred pound frog.

—Mitchell Hegman

About the Weather

Kevin is to blame.

We need to start with his beard.  Kevin’s beard is free-ranging.  When he grows a beard, he unplugs his razor for long periods of time and allows his whiskers to expand unchecked—like a weird new universe.

So, here is the deal.  Our long range forecasts have recently been revised.  Temperatures are spiraling downward.  Snow will be tossed in our faces

We should, at this time, be shedding jackets and stretching our arms in the sun.  I should be watching the blue skies to sight my first bluebird of the year.

Instead: -1° Fahrenheit.  Light snow sifting down from grey clouds.

So I called Kevin.  “Kevin,” I asked, “what in the hell did you do to break our weather?  It’s broken.  We are way colder than we should be.  This has to be your fault.”

Without pausing, he says to me: “It’s my fault.  I admit it.  A while back, I bought a new electric razor to shave my beard because we were going to start warming up for spring.”

“That would do it.  This is Montana, pal, you can’t just plan on shaving your beard all willy-nilly like that.  Not because the calendar says so.  The weather will not stand for that.”

“I should have known better,” he admitted.

“Right?”  I laughed.  “You should have been a little more patient.”

After hanging up the phone, I grabbed a broom and went out to sweep a dusting of snow off my deck.

Maybe if I stopped shaving…

—Mitchell Hegman

Snap Decision

Often times, I make snap decisions only to spend (in some cases) days wondering if my decision was a good one.  Early this morning, with an outside temperature in single digits, I decided on impulse to step outside just to see how the day felt.  I knew right away that doing so naked was a pretty bad idea.

—Mitchell Hegman

In Perspective

After several days of temperatures ranging from sub-zero marks to single digits, the temperature at my house yesterday rose to 16 degrees.

But it felt much warmer—like 17 or 18 degrees.

—Mitchell Hegman

False Positive

What if some smart researcher invented a blood test that could conclusively prove that a person is, clinically, a dumbass?

I think I would be afraid to be tested for that.

—Mitchell Hegman

Fish

There is too much light tonight.  The full moon and Orion have conspired against me.  They march across the sky unopposed.  Advancing, the moon evaporates the nearest stars with pewter light.

Below, the landscape is blue with snow.  Pine trees stir duskily in the wind.

Too much light.

Drawn to the window, sleepless, I peer out onto the lake.  The snow is a blank slate.

I am assaulted by my own thoughts.

Dreams of fish have awakened me again.  I do not understand this.  Why fish?  For my whole life I have been dreaming fish.    

I have come to understand the lake.  The surface locked still and rigid in ice, but the water squirming mightily underneath.  And run through with rainbow trout.  Yellow perch.

I wonder, do the fish there dream of me as I dream of them?

—Mitchell Hegman

Maiah Wynne

Maiah Wynne is a twenty-something singer-songwriter from Missoula, Montana.  I first heard her singing on the soundtrack for The Ballad of Lefty Brown, a movie filmed here in Montana.  I have since downloaded four of her songs. 

This morning I watched several of her videos on YouTube.  I am surprised she does not have millions of hits on her posted videos.  Her cover of Creep (Radiohead), filmed at Berkeley Pit, is noteworthy.  I am sharing that video here today.

I encourage you to listen to more of her music.

Maiah deserves a following.

—Mitchell Hegman

Video Link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cGRqoIN2_dU

The Simplified Version

Intellectual pursuits are fine.  I like them.  But in the end most of us are here to gather firewood and plant gardens.

—Mitchell Hegman

The Name

This morning, for lack of anything better to do, I read through my journal entries for the time surrounding the attack on the World Trade Center on September 11, 2001.  This entry, made a bit over a month after the collapse of the towers, gave me pause:

While shopping in a store today, Uyen and I chanced upon a tiny girl standing inside a shopping cart.  Sitting beside the girl inside the cart was an equally tiny puppy.  Naturally, we stopped and patted the puppy on the top of his head.  “I named him America,” the little girl said.

—Mitchell Hegman

Genetics

At the turn of this century, scientists revealed their success in decoding (and committing to a database) the entire genetic map of a human.  This, many contend, is as great a feat as any accomplished by humans.  Dozens upon dozens of lifetimes of research and work (and machines at the pinnacle of technological advances) were required to produce the code.

And now that we have this map.  Some folks are thinking that not only can we mark and recognize genes that promote particular anomalies, such as dwarfism, maybe we can clean house a bit.

Consider the possibilities.

Perhaps we can engineer out of our systems an array of disease—the same way genetic tinkering may allow us to alter apples to grow square for ease in stacking.  Perhaps we might engineer more subtle changes in human behavior.  For example, we might flip a genetic switch someplace inside girls that will make them desire to shop for power tools when they mature.  In boys, we might alter their genetic patterns so that they find women with a mustache attractive, which will accommodate the particular breeding problems (or lack thereof) for a town that I will not mention.

We now have a roadmap for humans.  This where we are.

But what about taking a wrong turn on this roadmap?  Consider the consequences.  What if the square apples stacking themselves right on top of us!  What if one of the boys that we fashioned to admire a mustache on women engineered all future women to grow a Fu Manchu?  At what point do alter too much?  What are we not foreseeing?        

Perhaps—since I have used a roadmap as an analogy—we might compare all of this to the invention of the automobile, a single innovation that altered the course for all of humanity, just as this will.  Look at how far we have come with the engineering of automobiles since the first complete successful design.  Consider the array of highways and how they and the parking lots and the junkyards and all the goes with the automobile changed the landscape around us.  Consider how the rapid mobility changed virtually everything about the way we conduct our lives.  But always remember that, here in America, somewhere near 40,000 people perish in car accidents each year.  Nearly 4 million cars are involved in accidents, even though we have some of the most stringent laws and safety standards. 

As I write this, people in some places are driving clunkers without any laws to control them.  Dozens of them are approaching the same unmarked intersection at the same time.  Some of the women driving them need to trim their mustache.

—Mitchell Hegman

Winter Sun

I (and others) have been complaining a bit about our recent stretch of winter storms.   The cold temperatures and drifting roads can be a bit annoying.

This morning I am posing a photograph I captured a while back.

Just a reminder that winter can also be beautiful.

—Mitchell Hegman

Valentine’s Day

—More than 36 million heart-shaped boxes of chocolates will be opened in the U.S. today.

—The average man spends $130.00 on his favorite valentine.  The average woman spends $70.00 on hers.

—Something near 1 billion valentines will be exchanged across the world.

—Teachers, as a whole, receive more valentine’s cards than anyone else.

—Over 3 billion dollars will be spent of flowers in the U.S.

—It is estimated that in 2015 some 18% of women sent themselves flowers.   

—Based on my expenditures this year, I am going to have to open my wallet a bit wider if I want to rank as an average woman or man.

—Mitchell Hegman

Source: Tara Carlson, Petal Talk

Home Invasion

We are presently suffering through a home invasion. 

Perhaps home invasion is too strong a description.

What I should say is: There is a moth inside our house.

The moth first strafed my face a couple nights ago in a wild, arcing dive from a position on the living room paddle fan.  I quickly wove to the left to avoid a collision.   An hour after the first skirmish, the moth sputtered slowly across breadth of the living room, nearly scraping against that girls face in the process. 

“Moth!” exclaimed that girl.

We both pressed ourselves against the back of the sofa, grimacing as the moth scratched by.

I need to make a confession.  The moth is pretty small—smaller than a common housefly.  And, I will admit, what the moth lacks in size it makes up for in frighteningly incompetent flying skills.  I have seen the moth tumbling from a lamp and glancing off the walls.  The moth also struggles with maintaining the same elevation while flying about.  Most flights have something of a decaying trajectory.

This morning, the moth released from the kitchen ceiling and spiraled down alongside my shoulder, fluttering, as I carted my first cup of coffee toward the sofa.  

Okay.  Not a home invasion.

More like entertainment.

—Mitchell Hegman

Something Erma Bombeck Said

Erma Bombeck is (was, sadly) one of my favorite humorists.   I have posted her quotes previously.

I woke late this morning from a night of fitful sleep.  To kick-start start my day, I needed to read through a few of Erma’s quotes.    

I thought I might share a few.  Some funny.  Some profound.

Here is Erma Bombeck in her own words:

—God created man, but I could do better.

—My second favorite household chore is ironing. My first being hitting my head on the top bunk bed until I faint.

—Children make your life important.

—Marriage has no guarantees. If that's what you're looking for, go live with a car battery.

—Mitchell Hegman

-16 Degrees Fahrenheit

When I woke yesterday morning, the temperature outside my house stood at -16 degrees Fahrenheit.

Put in perspective, that’s 96 degrees colder than the beach weather I experienced at Grand Cayman only two weeks ago.

If you step outside during such sub-zero temperatures, you will find the world dramatically altered.  Packed snow under your feet squeaks and squeals with each step you take.  The air feels as though it’s burning against your face.  Every breath you take is marked by a white cloud.  Sounds become sharper, quicker.  The trees, and all things mechanical, become unreasonably stiff.

Yesterday morning, even inside my house, I could “feel” the cold trying to grasp at me as I neared windows or stood at my glass door looking out.  My 20 pounds of cat, feeling the same thing, avoided nearing the door.  “Well, buddy,” I said to him when we met in the kitchen, “we might as well spend a bit of quality time together on the sofa.”

Here is another thing: sub-zero temperatures have a kind of weight to them.

As I sat on my sofa with the cat, that weight pressed down on my house.  My house responded to this weight by regularly cracking its knuckles.

This morning, the temperature is -6 degrees Fahrenheit.  Ten degrees makes a lot of difference.  The weight has been eased from my house.  The cold is not grasping at me.  I even managed to throw my cat out onto my deck for 92 seconds.

Not exactly a spring thaw, but I will happily take what I can get.  

—Mitchell Hegman

Flash Flood

Here is what a flash flood looks like when you are miles from away from a place in the desert where heavy rains fell.  Scouring its way down dry washes—sometimes for many hours—the floodwater picks up sticks and logs and brush and anything else that floats, becoming a debris flow.

There is no swimming out of this.

—Mitchell Hegman

Video Link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ORJtxkuD62E&t=300s

4.22 Out of 5 Isn’t Bad

Every so often (just because I like to scare myself) I will conduct a Google search on my own name.

As time has gone on and the state of technology, social media, and electronic record-keeping has broadened my footprint out there, my search results have resulted on more and more detail.

The results range on a scale that starts at surprising and extends all the way through to disturbing.

This morning, for fun, I threw my name into a search one more time.

There is a surprising amount of detail about me (and, I would guess, you) out there on the wires and inside remote servers.

At one site, I discovered I have a “reputation score” of 4.22.  I guess that’s pretty good.  The highest score on the scale was a 5, and a graphic located on the page upon which I landed clearly indicated my score was good.

Here is a “snip” of the graphic:

Sadly (possibly fortunately), my reputation score is based on only a single review.

For about 15 seconds I considered figuring out how I could give myself a second reputation review.  But, instead, I found a few photographs of me and glanced at those.

Not good.

Rather, as my buddy Rodney says: ungood.

—Mitchell Hegman

We Are Not Whole

Though we are cast a single entity, we are not whole.  Something is missing from each of us.  Here, someone lacking empathy.  There, a man without an arm.  Too many lack a sense of humor.  We become a whole only as a mob set to track down and slay a beast; or to assemble a building; or to simply share warmth.

We unify to share our empathy, our arms, our humor, and so much more.

Those remaining alone are soon trampled by this mob or that.  They tumble along, gradually getting jostled apart—like cinders expelled by the flames of a fire.

—Mitchell Hegman

Seeking Volunteers

Recently, the police department in Kutztown Borough, Pennsylvania, a small borough with a population of slightly over 5,000, posted a request for volunteers on Facebook.  The department was seeking three people to get drunk.

Yes, they were.

The Kutztown Police Department required three volunteers to knowingly drink to the point of inebriation.  These fine volunteers would then be used to “assist” in training new police officers learning to administer Standardized Field Sobriety Tests.

Within a short time, the borough’s Facebook post was shared some 1,400 times and the police department was quickly awash with enthusiastic volunteers.

Had this same stunt been attempted in my hometown of East Helena, Montana, results would have been far more dramatic.  By dramatic, I mean total system chaos.  We would have seen servers crashing and throngs of volunteers at the police department’s doors.  Following that, local taverns would have been overrun by bitter rejects seeking solace in a glass of beer, perhaps a sip of rum.

Some interesting questions also flooded the Kutztown Police Department’s social media page.

“Is there a spectator area?” someone queried.

“Will this count as credit of my community service?” asked another.

I don’t drink to the point of inebriation these days, but had I volunteered, I would have asked: “Do you think it’s possible you could supply me with a sip of 1964 Glenlivet Single Malt Scotch for this experiment?”

I found a bottle of the 50 year old Scotch online selling for only $24,999.00.

For that, I would volunteer.

I would even be willing to find my way to Pennsylvania.

—Mitchell Hegman

Filling in the Blank

What in the ________?_______

The manner in which your mind automatically filled in the blank for the sentence above tells you all you most of what you need to know about your personality.

—Mitchell Hegman

Focus

Singular focus is reserved for predators.  The rest of us are free to let our minds wander about pecking at anything that looks interesting.   

—Mitchell Hegman

A Man Wearing a Bow Tie

Whenever I see a man wearing a suit with a bow tie (which happens way more often than I would like), I have the same initial thoughts

They are swear words, actually.

Then I think to myself: I hope there never comes a time when bow ties come back in style to a point where I might need to wear one.  And that’s not particularly farfetched when it comes to popular styles for dress.  Don’t forget, less than fifty years ago we were all running around in bell-bottoms.

And then I recall my middle school paisley print obsession.

Shit.

—Mitchell Hegman

Joining In

Somewhere around ten years ago, while driving across the open prairie we call Townsend Flats, I saw a cow elk running across the expanse with a band of antelope.  I saw the same cow hanging out with the band of antelope on a couple occasions following this first sighting.  When standing there, big as a horse, among the diminutive antelope (they not much larger than German shepherd dogs), the elk was certainly conspicuous.  But the behavior of the cow elk, and the conduct of the diminutive pronghorns with her, clearly indicated she was, well, an antelope.

An antelope to be reckoned with.

Sometime after I saw the elk, our local newspaper featured a front page article about the cow elk and her band of antelope.  According to the article, Montana Fish and Game Department officials had been paying attention to the elk for quite some time.  They theorized that the elk probably got trapped inside a fenced area with the antelope when she was too small to jump the fence and rejoin her own kind.  They suspected she fell in with the antelope and remained with them.

The antelope liked her.

Apparently, the cow elk and her band of antelope had been observed milling about within only a few yards of elk herds on many occasions, but the cow remained loyal to her band and stuck with them.

This story has been enough to sustain me on several dark occasions.

—Mitchell Hegman

Funny Birds

A short, weird animation:

—Mitchell Hegman

Video Link:  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lK13SW0QW04

Twenty-Two Miles to the Next Mountain

In just a bit over an hour of time, you can drive the entire length of Grand Cayman Island on existing roadways.  As a crow flies, this is a mere twenty-two miles in distance.

When you first land on the island, you don’t fully comprehend the smallness.  But as you drive about day after day, clicking off the same scenes, seeing white waves rolling against the same edges of the island, and when you learn that the communications tower you see just across the way is actually the other side of the island, the smallness gains weight.

A mountain would be helpful.

I have a certain desire for mountains.  I need something in addition to cell towers holding the sky in place.

Distance is also a real thing.

From my house, I can easily see a mountain twenty-two miles in the distance.  I can drive to that mountain and see another mountain some twenty-two miles in the distance and (travelling in roughly the same direction) drive to that mountain.  I can drive all day, in fact, and never run out of landscape.

If I choose the proper direction, I will not run out of mountains.

I require that.

—Mitchell Hegman