Name Them Yourself

Remembering the names of constellations and seeing what others see in the smattering of stars is often difficult.  Try, as example, Camelopardaus.   If that is too easy, try Serpens.

A friend recently suggested that inventing your own constellations (and reinventing them nightly) is a much more practical approach.   You simply gaze up to the firmament and find constellations you fancy as the mood strikes you.

I tried that last night.  Almost immediately I located Lopsided Box.  Just beside that I found Three-Legged Dog.  Before long, I had the spangled sky filled with constellations.  I found automobiles, kitchen utensils, Salma Hayek, Man Raking Leaves and even Blinking Cellphone up there.    

I figure that the next logical step is finding adult-rated constellations. 

As a final note, Salma Hayek may not count because I pretty much see her everywhere.    

--Mitchell Hegman

 

I Killed a Man Who Looks like You

Click here if the video does not play:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ITcv7t5wmrk

Long Road

A man sets out down a long and narrow road.  Either the road has no discernable end or at some point the road reaches a woman whose silken hair cannot be avoided.

--Mitchell Hegman

Alternate Ending

Same as the one you already know, except everyone is happy.

--Mitchell Hegman

Miley Cyrus Did a Bad, Bad Thing

At about noon yesterday, rummy from several hours of work on my computer, I went for a walk through the ranchlands that surround my house.  That’s where I saw the white cabbage butterflies.

They were having sex in mid-air.

Sometimes, I guess being an insect has its advantages.  Obviously, the ability to copulate in midair is one of them.  Naturally, I stopped to watch them tumble around just above the dry grass considering the possibilities.

That is interesting, I thought.

Way earlier in the morning, I happened to watch a bit of news for the first time in many days.  That’s where I saw Miley Cyrus half-naked and grinding out suggestive moves on the Video Music Awards.  Well, the grinding and wiggling part of the performance was fine, but did Miley Cyrus really need to drag teddy bears into all that sexual connotation?

I like teddy bears.

Miley also had a great deal of trouble keeping her tongue in her mouth—which may be some indication of a medical condition, though I don’t know what that medical condition may be.  Toward the end of the performance, Miley appeared to be pleasuring herself with an oversized foam finger.  Really, she did not look all that attractive just then.  When I glanced at her head to avoid watching the foam finger, I thought, Geez, she looks like an albino Chia Pet.  Not that interesting.

The whole Miley Cyrus performance reminded me of a rock concert I saw in Missoula, Montana, many years ago.  I think Jethro Tull headlined the concert.  The warm-up band featured a somewhat overweight lead singer who sweated profusely.  Throughout most of the warm-up set, the lead singer used a towel to wipe the sweat from his face and exposed chest.  During the last song of their performance, the lead singer attempted to throw the towel out into the audience.  Normally, people will grab things rock performers toss into the audience and keep them as treasures.  Nobody wanted that big guy’s sweaty towel.   People in the audience kept flinging it back onto the stage.   

--Mitchell Hegman

A Hair-Shedding Mechanism

My cat, Carmel, sheds an inordinate amount of hair.  At least that is how I see it.  In addition to finding his hair in the usual places, such as on my clothing and clumped on the carpet, I also find his hair on my computer, inside magazines, stuck to my other cat, flying through the air, backstroking in my sink water, and I suspect several hairs have made their way to the moon by now.  Curious about how much hair is in the coat of a normal housecat and how much of that a cat sheds over a given time, I surfed the net for information.

Not much out there for answers.

Wiki.answers suggested that an average cat might have 30 to 50 million hairs.  Several places indicated that a cat might have up to 120,000 hairs per square inch.  The number varies by the breed and the size of the cat.  I also learned that most cats have three types of hair: down, awn, and guard hair.  Down hair is soft and short.  Awn is coarse and medium length.  Guard hair is long.

Still, no firm answer on Carmel—my personal hair-shedding mechanism—and how many of his 50 million hairs he flings around the place.

Here is my best guess as to how much hair my cat sheds: as much as he possibly can.

I have posted a picture of Carmel.  My apologies if he sheds on your computer screen as you read this.

--Mitchell Hegman

A Blush before We Fall

Though the days are hot and the long gravel roads that sway through the valleys still release rolling dust with each passing truck, some mornings are decidedly cool.  A sense of autumn is in the air.  Some mornings are decidedly cool and smell of damp hay.  Blackbirds have begun to gather into larger flocks.  Only a few days ago I saw a cloud of blackbirds shoaling back and forth above a cattail pond.  At the high elevations I frequent, the leaves of the Oregon grape have blushed decidedly yellow and the more ambitious huckleberry bushes have opted for showy reds.

I am posting pictures today from my latest high mountain adventure.  One photograph is purposefully abstract.  The other picture is telling and outspoken in the simple truth of color.

 

 

--Mitchell Hegman