ThingsPondered

I had the privilege to earn a graduate degree from Lehigh University in 1995.  The experience was so concurrently difficult and satisfying that it holds a place on my list of the top five events in my life.  As far as I am concerned, every dollar I gave Lehigh returned more than that in value.  To reiterate, it was an incredible learning experience.

When I attended Lehigh, the university seal was a football shape with a Latin motto.  As the following official webpage (http://www3.lehigh.edu/about/past/luseal.asp ) describes, it included “a sun over a book on which a heart is superimposed. These fit nicely with the university motto, taken from Francis Bacon, which surround them: ‘Homo minister et interpres naturae.’ Loosely translated, the motto means, ’Man, the servant and interpreter of nature.’ “  Also within the seal were the words “Lehigh University” and “Founded by Asa Packer 1865.”  The sun emitted copious rays of light and the football was surrounded by detailed edging.  Everything “Lehigh” had this seal: sweatshirts, lampshades, notebook covers, and the entire gamut of college bookstore products.  I own a short-sleeved T-shirt with this seal.  It is the emblem of my Lehigh.

However, in 1997 the University adopted a logo to serve as an additional visual emblem of the school.  Purportedly, it reproduces more easily in electronic media, thus meets a need.  However, I fear something more serious is afoot.  Just as fast food restaurants must continually research the pulse of consumers and adjust products and the presentations of those products, institutions of higher education are vendors which must adapt to the potential student market.  In its quest to recruit students, I fear that Lehigh University is abandoning appropriate tradition by employing a simplified graphic: a Happy Meal version of the elegant and historic seal.

Look through the university website.  Is the seal anywhere?  It is only on the above-mentioned link about history.  No longer are clothing, mugs, and memorabilia festooned with the pre-1997 seal, the only visual emblem at the time.  It has vanished.  As in the novel Fahrenheit 451, in which a fireman becomes someone who burns books rather than someone who extinguishes fires, history is being re-written.  Supposedly, the original seal will continue to be used on diplomas and important documents.  However, I ask why would a student who has known only the logo throughout his Lehigh career want the seal on his diploma? 

I am not a marketing expert.  If the pundits feel that they can reach today’s eligible prospects only through use of a trendy logo, then so be it.  However, when an august research university agrees to reduce ALL of its visual symbols to something akin to a Nike ™ swoosh (which I imagine will need to changed frequently to follow the market), then someone has gotten it very wrong.

I say use the simple logo on the web pages and a few recruiting pamphlets, but also include the Lehigh University seal.  Continue to proudly employ the seal on banners, stationery, university publications and documents.  In the bookstore, offer garments and products with choices in both designs.  Coca-Cola admitted its error when it tried to replace traditional Coke with a new version.  Likewise, Lehigh University must offer the new and classic versions of the seal-logo in documents, clothing and merchandise.  It is bad enough to lose the team name of Engineers to the Mountain Hawk, but to lose the “football and Latin” seal is too much to bear.

If you would like to make your thoughts known to the university, the appropriate contact is:  Fred McGrail, Vice President for Communications, fjm208@Lehigh.edu.

Why does it need to be so late on the east coast?  Can’t our fellow Americans in the Pacific Time Zone watch a game that starts at 2:00 PM their time?  I do not see obstacles to that.  If that could happen, then the east coast people will be watching starting at 5:00 PM their time – certainly an appropriate time for scarfing down all the wings, pizza, beer, chips, and so forth.  As for the Californians, they can take a turn for a few decades of “needing” (?) to eat Superbowl foods at a time they might not normally eat in the middle of their afternoon.  The Superbowl commercials will be just as funny.

The end of January/ beginning of February is cold and dark, and possibly full of bad weather conditions,  for half of the east coast at the traditional Superbowl starting time.  If party guests are drinking spirits, then they possibly have the alcohol to process before they can head home,.  Late, late, late night for adults and some children.  On a school night.  On a work night. 

It’s time for a change.

I really don’t care whether and when the U.S. government announces that the country is in a recession or a depression (although I doubt we will have a declaration of depression – what a downer.  Can you imagine what the emotion-driven stock market’s reaction would be?)  Folk signs of our recession have been clear for over a year.  All the while that Dubya’s toadies were denying it, we common folk in service and retail businesses knew it was here.

I remember reading a Wall Street Journal article about broom sales.  It proposed that declines in broom sales indicated tough economic times.  As the households of the rank and file feel the pinch, one of the money-saving decisions is to “make do” with the old broom instead of splurging on a new one.  Other industries show this making do with what we have: carpet cleaning and plastic surgery.  Both of these have experienced less activity over the last two years.  Many of us knew in which direction the country  was heading.

Saving versus spending.  I am not an economist.  Therefore, it baffles me that we citizens are urged to spend money that we do not have.  A less drastic, yet equally mystifying, notion is that we are encouraged to spend what money we DO have.  Why isn’t saving for retirement, for long-term care, for a rainy day, a good thing?  It sounds good to me.  Actually, it sounds downright mature and responsible.  I guess I will never understand.  Nonetheless, a depression will be a very personal challenge.

My grandparents and parents survived the one in the 1930’s.  I know intellectually that I can, too. But the practical aspects are utterly scary. 

This morning on my way to work I heard an expression on the radio which really caught my attention.  It was “… this morning, President Obama…” read by the newscaster just as naturally as could be.  It made my heart sing.  Furthermore, it made me realize how huge a burden has been weighing me down for the last eight years.

Of, course the whole debacle of the undecided election, Florida, the chads, the coincidence that one of the candidates had a brother as governor…we remember that.  So, that group of incidences led many American citizens to feel that Dubya was not the winner of the election and not THEIR president.  I was a member of this group.  Before the United States started sending its military to Gulf War Part Two, I travelled to Washington, D.C. to participate in an anti-war march.  There were many marchers (and their pets) with signs declaring “He’s not MY president.”  I couldn’t agree more heartily.  In fact, I could not bear to hear that baboon’s voice.  For the last eight years, I have been switching the station whenever G.W.Bush came on the radio or television.  Why? Because he was an imposter impersonating a president.

Now, today, we have a real President!  O Joy of Joys!  What a fantastic feeling of relief I have!  I did not appreciate how much I was hating the expression “President of the United States” until now.  Fortunately, those days are over. I think that the election of Barack Obama is one of the greatest and most momentous events in my lifetime!  Way to go, bro!

Since the Guatanamo Bay detention camp has such a bad rep and bad karma, it is a source of embarrassment to the administration.  We hear that President Obama would like to close it as one of his earliest executive actions.  Nevertheless, if the prison is shut down, does ANYONE think that the prisoners themselves are going to just vaporize?  No, they need to be relocated.  And what better place than an area with some elbow room, an area close to the Dubya man who believes in phantom weapons of mass destruction: Crawford, Texas?  After all, the detention center was created during his “reign.”

Consider the repercussions: perhaps leaders will think harder when making a decision.  Perhaps they will  adopt the Native American “seventh generation” requirement: that in making a decision, the leader must consider the consequences, not only for the moment but for the next generation, for the generation after that, and for up to seven generations from the time of the decision.  THAT would be an improvement.  What if it had existed when energy-wasting inventions and transportation modes were being pumped out?

In the meantime, let Dubya enjoy his life as a private citizen with some good ole boys from the cells of Gitmo down the street or around the corner.  Show them some good ole American hospitality.  As Mr. Rogers said, “Gee, won’t you be my neighbor?”

The television news programs state that the number of personnel serving as security for this inauguration is four times larger than the number for the previous one.  Those of us who have little use for “W” find this totally reasonable.  However, the increase in the technology of terrorism also makes it appropriate.  Lastly, there are unfortunately a few nut cases left walking around free and unrestrained who still embrace racial prejudice.  On this most momentous and historic inauguration of a black man, the United states cannot allow a hater to harm the President.

Besides the uniformed and plainclothes security people handling the movement of VIPs and the crowd, consider what other people must be involved.  This is, in some ways, a performance.  It is a huge performance requiring a “crew.”  There must be people to handle “costumes;” equipment such as stands, telecommunications, and vehicle maintenance; first aid, and food service .  All of these people must be at the highest level of security clearance, trustworthiness, and competence.

I am thrilled enough just to be alive and watching this historic event on television.  What a story the crewpeople will be able to tell: perhaps something such as “I did an emergency hem repair for Michelle Obama.”

As Uncle Jay, of Uncle Jay Explains the News , says: this Inauguration is going to be “momentous.”  It is our country’s first dark-skinned President and first dark-skinned First Lady.  Just as my parents never thought they would live to see people land on the moon, I did not think I would live to see an African-American president of the United States.  We are extremely pleased that we are witnessing these events in the progress of humankind.

I offer this prayer in honor of the occasion:

Dear Kind and Loving God of Goodness:

Please keep the Obama family, both the nuclear family and the extended relatives, safe in eye of your care.  Please have all the guardian angels and spirits on duty and all the apprentice angels in on the act.  Thank you for this momentous moment in the history of our country, a country that tries hard to do the right thing but sometimes stumbles.  Let the Inauguration Day be a joyful celebration of a fitting and proud step for our citizens and for all your purposes.

The first African-American First Lady will start her reign in a few days and the country is wishing her and her family much success.  Happily, a few trail-blazers, notably Hilary Clinton, have encouraged the American public to regard the First Lady as more than a woman whose clothing and hairstyle must be inspected and dissected at every turn.  Therefore, let’s have the media boycott mention of Michelle’s clothing.  Please.

Michelle Obama is an attorney, an activist, and a mother of young children.  She has many options for how she will direct her energy and we can support her in whatever roles she chooses.   Also, we can support her decision about how much limelight she attracts.  From what I can tell, getting the family settled in the new house and schools is her first priority.  Although the public may be clamoring for news about Mrs. Obama, our closest token to royalty, I am betting that she keeps level-headed control over her life, as always.

Mazel tov, Mrs. Obama!

My partner and I made the decision to start feeding the backyard squirrels.  We have accidentally fed them birdseed for years, but now we are consciously choosing to feed them.  As this was an impulsive move, we are shooting from the hip so far.  

What is official squirrel food?  For the moment, it is whatever the local big box store says it is.  And that is dried ear corn.  This was not the best option; it was the only option.  Thus, until we do our feed research, in ear corn we trust.

We have a heated squirrel water bowl (really a birth bath) and a ceramic bowl for feed.  Into it, I excitedly placed three ears.  That was today, the third day of squirrel over-wintering parenthood.  Now, I am realizing that watching the little rodents happily chomping away on our deck may not be as easy as we imagined.

Pecking order.  Birds have it, literally.  Wolves have their hierarchy of power with the alphas, betas, and so forth.  Humans have it.   Then, it should not astonish anyone to acknowledge that squirrels have dominance ranking.  I observed it this morning as one precious-looking squirrel was at the bowl with the three newly poured corn cobs.  He (or she) was happily springing on an ear to extricate one kernel, then leaping back about a foot away to happily chew.  This was repeated several times until…

A more dominant squirrel appeared. Older, bigger, cannier, and wise in the ways of the squirrel world, this creature ambushed my cutie.  The ambush was just a “get out of here” maneuver, not infliction of bodily harm.  However, this dominant squirrel contrived to deprive me of my squirrel watching pleasure.  This meanie picked up a cob in his mouth and scampered away with it!

Alright.  This happened on our first day as well.  However, what has me on the warpath is that the scalawag returned to do it again three minutes later. What chutzpah!  Obviously, I leaped up and banged on the door.  Unfortunately, when an ugly huge human does this, not only the meanie, but also the cute, squirrels run.  In annoyance, I went outside and peeled the kernels from the only remaining ear into the bowl.  My thinking was that the “one-at-a-time” dainty eaters will still be able to eat within our sight.  In contrast, the muscular tricky squirrels will not find anything worth hauling.

I wonder what can happen next?

“Does the C in YMCA stand for chocolate?” asked one of my before-school care charges, obviously hoping that my answer would be “yes.”

Why is chocolate so magical?  Why does it conjure up images of comfort, caring and indulgence? There is no denying that in the United States, if not the world, it holds the status of a reward.  Chocolate producers obviously capitalize on this attitude in their marketing.  However, even without marketing, I believe that it would nonetheless be regarded as special enough for children and adults to clamor for it.

In the past, I did not crave chocolate.  No, my favorite sweets (and I DO have a sweet tooth) were desserts using any red fruits.  I could rather easily walk by a plate of chocolates.  But then, I worked for a supervisor who adored fine European chocolate.  Occasionally he would bring in a morsel from Belgium or environs to attempt to convert me to his tastes.  Aah, to my detriment, it worked.  I am now a chocoholic.

It is not the cocoa or cacao alone.  Heavens no!  Have you ever had a spoonful of unsweetened cocoa mix?  Blecch.  Now, add sweetener.  Not good enough for me.  It is not the sugar which redeems the cocoa.  No, it is the butterfat.  When one combines the cocoa with sugar and the glorious dairy fat, then the result is a sweet for the gods. Thus, until the candy makers tap the raspberry and butterfat lover’s niche, I guess I will settle for chocolate.