When I was 14, the local radio station—with 50,000 watts of power—broadcast from neighboring Presque Isle, Maine. I found one DJ, whose name is lost to memory, quite exciting. One summer afternoon, the he put […]
Category: Storytelling
The iPhone Moment
Maybe the iPhone phenomenon is about purpose or community, making people feel like they can participate in something important or unusual.
My wife put forth that theory this morning as we discussed my experiences covering the iPhone launch at Montgomery Mall in Bethesda, Md. No question, the people I talked to in line yesterday had a sense of being caught up in a historical moment.
It Beats Being a Doctor or Lawyer
While my daughter and I sat in a Popeye’s this afternoon, we could hear this little kid excitedly talking behind us. We both burst out laughing when he proclaimed: “I want to be 27 inches […]
Thanks, Mom
I was 14 when my mother saved my life. It was, in fact, my 14th birthday.
Dad, mom, my three sisters, and I had gone to my grandparents house to celebrate. Nana made tasty pork chops, for which I had no appetite. For dessert, there was fresh baked chocolate cake—yum, my favorite—and actually two. I had no taste for cake, either. Instead, after picking at my food, I lay down on the couch. My sister Annette, who is closest in age to me, also was ill. We both had fevers, and I assumed that we shared the same flu.
In the Waiting Line
Some things are just too weird for rational definition or explanation. Tonight, my daughter had the most unusual and upsetting experience while waiting in line at the local Old Navy.
We went to the store looking for blue jeans. My daughter, who is 12, said she needed a new pair. After trying on a few pairs, she picked out faded jeans. But tween angst led us out of the Old Navy to the Aeropstale, where she tried on a pair of size 00R. Size zero zero? They fit, but she decided on the Old Navy jeans. I gave her money to buy the pants, and we separated so that I could grab some cherry turnovers from the Arby’s.
The Fox and the Hares
Well, you know you’ve been out of town and out of touch, when there are 5,523 new posts to read via RSS. Oh my! Among them: Jean McDermott has an update on the feral rabbit hunt, lest the vermin—ah, cute furballs—defoliate Alaska. I blogged about part one of her bunny adventure the day before her most recent update. How’s that for timing?
So, writes Jean: “I successfully caught six baby rabbits over Memorial Day weekend. Three black ones, two gray ones, and a tortoise color fawnish one. Let me tell you, baby bunnies are extremely cute”. But she resisted petting the lot, to avoid terrifying them to death. However, the cuteness overwhelmed the folks over at animal control.
Not So Fair Hare in Fairbanks
For about two weeks, I’ve been meaning to write about the plight of Jean McDermott and the feral rabbits. Her story—told on her blog, Jean’s Northern Niche—started last November, when someone “let loose their domestic rabbits in my neighborhood“. Oh. Oh. “They have proliferated, to say the least”. Jean, who lives in Fairbanks, Alaska, notes that a good breeding pair of rabbits can produce—get this—”13 MILLION young (the young breed as young as four months) within three years”.
She makes clear that feral rabbits, “eat EVERYTHING…Just do a Google search on ‘rabbit population’ to see what a terribly destructive power rabbits can be. Here in Alaska they are dealing with the sub-zero temperatures just fine, too”.
Bunny Post Mortem
Bubba’s demise may have been caused by contact with a cat. In my last post, I identified bacteria as one possible cause for the baby bunny’s death.
On Saturday night, hours after adopting Bubba, I sent an e-mail to Second Chance Wildlife Center, which is where we would have taken the bunny for care. Last night, Chris from Second Chance e-mailed advice about Bubba. Apparently, she didn’t know that I had called earlier in the day. With her permission, here is the e-mail, which contains information potentially useful to other people with distressed, wild baby bunnies.
Burying Bubba
Bubba’s little life ended this morning. We awoke to find the orphaned bunny cold and listless. My daughter held Bubba to warm it, while I phoned the local animal rehabilitator. She advised to immediately bring Bubba in for care. But the bunny died before we could even leave the house. We later wrapped Bubba in a cloth and buried it in the backyard. May the bunny rest in peace.
Bubba’s demise could have come from a number of different factors or a combination of them. I’d like to list some of them and offer advice for anyone coming across a seemingly abandoned bunny (in our case, we didn’t find Bubba).
Bubba
This morning I got a delightful call at 10:03. Penn Camera had received, finally, my 18-200mm f/3.5-5.6 G ED-IF AF-S VR DX Zoom-Nikkor lens. I’ve been waiting for this lens since getting the Nikon D200. This evening I carried the lens out on a bunny watch. Some evenings, my wife, daughter and I watch the furballs frolic in the neighborhood across the main street.
We bumped into two ladies (they looked like a couple) trying to find a home for an abandoned bunny. One of the ladies carried the kitten, she called Bubba, cupped in her hand. His story: Yesterday, the ladies’ cat brought home the baby bunny, apparently without injury. The women fed Bubba diluted Half `n Half by way of eye dropper. Last night, after seeing that the animal was OK, the women put the baby out in their yard. But they were uncertain of the nest’s location. Today, their neighbor found the baby on his lawn while mowing.
Jimmy
When I was 12, after school every day, my best friend and I would go to the local five and dime for Coke at the soda fountain. We’d sit on stools and share the drink, purchased for a nickel, using separate straws. His dad and mom worked at a different school, respectively, as principal and teacher. We would wait until they came for him. Day after day.
The description might make me seem to be quite old, but parts of Maine are still behind the times—in the best ways possible.
Better, or Worse?
I just can’t resist eavesdropping on conversations in public places. Tonight, while standing in line at the CVS, I heard some scolding to my left. The cashier was giving this old geezer a hard time […]