“May Day” Cannot resist my deep memories of that very proud day. Here it is again.
This is not an emergency call.
It was the night before May 1st 1930
All through the house preparation was made,
No Maypole dancing for this crowd.
A serious parade would be underway.
“Papa “who are we going to march with?”
“We’ll see we’ll see. Now for the posters.”
Free Mooney Billings, and the Scottsboro Boys.
Papa “are we gonna sing Hold the Fort?”
I lived in house of rebels. There were,
Socialists, communists, freethinkers, anarchists,
Wobblies, atheists, modern dancers, single taxers
and lots more. All preparing to march.
This was our workers holiday.
Long ago it started the eight hour day fight.
This 1930s day I stayed out of school.
Note said, “My son Robert was marching
In the workers holiday.” Teacher, “what is that?”
“This day we celebrate workers who built this land.”
Papa are we gonna sing Hold The Fort?”
There I was with my Papa on Fifth Avenue at 50th Street
Amongst the bricklayer and mason unions.
Girls were with the modern dancers.
Maybe the Garment Workers brigade?
Up came the signs. “Jobs for all” “ Old age, Social security.”
Free Mooney Billings and Scottsboro Boys.”
We started our march down Fifth Avenue
All the way to Union Square. Singing
Hold The fort for we are coming
Union men be strong. Side by side
We battle onward victory be won.
With upraised fists flags flying
Marched before the reviewing stand
Papa said we were 250-300 thousand strong.
I knew we had to win all our demands.
“Hold the Fort” as we were there.”
Holding my Papas big hand.
The proudest thirteen year old in the land.
Saturday, April 30, 2011
Sunday, April 24, 2011
Blue Collar Philosophy 101
In my many years of living and working with Blue Collar people I have enjoyed listening to their most varied conversations. I thought from time to time I would share some of their wisdom with you.
In order of frequency subject manner can range from sex, sports, work issues, politics, wars, sex, and sports. I am working on yet another furniture project. A library stand based on a Jefferson Monticello piece. When I pulled up to the huge lumber warehouse to pick up some Pennsylvania Cherry wood the place seemed empty. Upon walking through this huge cavernous building I realized it must be lunchtime and found the five Guys gathered around a table in a small back room.
“Hope I’m not interfering with anything important” “Hell no Robert come on in and help us figure out what’s going on with this guy Spitzer.” It turned out the discussion was about the possibility that Elliot Spitzer could run for Mayor of New York. He had been the NY State Attorney General until he was forced to resign in disgrace from a scandal with a high priced prostitute. Or as one of the Guys pointed out there is a price breaking point as it goes from the Whore to Prostitute to Call Girl. “You see Robert its all in the price.” I asked, “So what’s the issue you Guys are trying to resolve?”
There was a short conversation and then, “What makes a smart guy like Spitzer ruin a promising career just to get laid?” Suddenly everyone was talking at once. “He was hard up.” “His wife is a cold bitch.” “He needs to pay for it cause it makes him feel powerful.” “Yea and with no entanglements. Like he really loved the girl and couldn’t help himself.” “Power, it’s all about power. The Guy just wants to show how much dough he’s got and how he can buy anything he wants.”
Herb, who seemed the most thoughtful amongst the group, began quietly. “Look, you’re out working all day. You’re driving home you begin daydreaming about what you’d like to do when you walk in the door of your house. The stick in my pants already gets the idea and starts swelling. I come in the door. There’s my wife sweating in a dirty apron and starts complaining, “you think I can make it on the money you’re giving me to run this place you’re nuts” “The stick down below shrivels and dies.” Now remember Spitzer’s wife is a lawyer. She isn’t busy with laundry she’s busy with cases she needs to try tomorrow. She hasn’t time for Spitzer’s fantasy of some bikini cute in amongst the Caribbean Palms.
Jimmy jumps in, “I get it so he goes to see his call Girl and they ain’t got nothing on their minds but you know what.” Yupp Herb says and that’s the way it is with that girl in the office. Same thing. They look at each other and feel hot to trot go off to a motel great sex. Think they rediscovered heaven on earth. No laundry, no food shopping, no dinner to make, no kids to pick up from school, no kids to take to soccer, the ballet, music lessons, play dates, on and on” Just a role in the hay a nice dinner and go home make believe nothing happened. “Yea and don’t forget he tells the wife, “Honey I had a tough day at the office and with all that overtime I need to just rest.” Man the whole group is laughing and they seem to agree except Herb is back.
“Yeah that’s all true but let me give you the other side of the same story. It’s a nice sunny day and the wife is at home. She’s just a little dressed singing, prancing around no bra just a little blouse and shorts. She looks out the window and there’s the handsome young gardener bare chested with all those rippling muscles. Her lower department is getting damp. No problems just an invitation to come on in for a glass of iced tea. He doesn’t ask a question. He is in the house and they’re tearing each other’s clothes off and having a great role on the hay. No fuss no muss no kids no cooking just the two of them having a little fun in heaven. Okay Guys that’s how it is for both men and women. Women have the exact same problems as the men. They too find creative ways to solve them. Humans have been doing it forever and it will continue forever”
As I Left with my Pennsylvania Cherry I thanked them for the Blue Collar Philosophy 101 on sexual dalliance and promised to be back for some more good wood.
In order of frequency subject manner can range from sex, sports, work issues, politics, wars, sex, and sports. I am working on yet another furniture project. A library stand based on a Jefferson Monticello piece. When I pulled up to the huge lumber warehouse to pick up some Pennsylvania Cherry wood the place seemed empty. Upon walking through this huge cavernous building I realized it must be lunchtime and found the five Guys gathered around a table in a small back room.
“Hope I’m not interfering with anything important” “Hell no Robert come on in and help us figure out what’s going on with this guy Spitzer.” It turned out the discussion was about the possibility that Elliot Spitzer could run for Mayor of New York. He had been the NY State Attorney General until he was forced to resign in disgrace from a scandal with a high priced prostitute. Or as one of the Guys pointed out there is a price breaking point as it goes from the Whore to Prostitute to Call Girl. “You see Robert its all in the price.” I asked, “So what’s the issue you Guys are trying to resolve?”
There was a short conversation and then, “What makes a smart guy like Spitzer ruin a promising career just to get laid?” Suddenly everyone was talking at once. “He was hard up.” “His wife is a cold bitch.” “He needs to pay for it cause it makes him feel powerful.” “Yea and with no entanglements. Like he really loved the girl and couldn’t help himself.” “Power, it’s all about power. The Guy just wants to show how much dough he’s got and how he can buy anything he wants.”
Herb, who seemed the most thoughtful amongst the group, began quietly. “Look, you’re out working all day. You’re driving home you begin daydreaming about what you’d like to do when you walk in the door of your house. The stick in my pants already gets the idea and starts swelling. I come in the door. There’s my wife sweating in a dirty apron and starts complaining, “you think I can make it on the money you’re giving me to run this place you’re nuts” “The stick down below shrivels and dies.” Now remember Spitzer’s wife is a lawyer. She isn’t busy with laundry she’s busy with cases she needs to try tomorrow. She hasn’t time for Spitzer’s fantasy of some bikini cute in amongst the Caribbean Palms.
Jimmy jumps in, “I get it so he goes to see his call Girl and they ain’t got nothing on their minds but you know what.” Yupp Herb says and that’s the way it is with that girl in the office. Same thing. They look at each other and feel hot to trot go off to a motel great sex. Think they rediscovered heaven on earth. No laundry, no food shopping, no dinner to make, no kids to pick up from school, no kids to take to soccer, the ballet, music lessons, play dates, on and on” Just a role in the hay a nice dinner and go home make believe nothing happened. “Yea and don’t forget he tells the wife, “Honey I had a tough day at the office and with all that overtime I need to just rest.” Man the whole group is laughing and they seem to agree except Herb is back.
“Yeah that’s all true but let me give you the other side of the same story. It’s a nice sunny day and the wife is at home. She’s just a little dressed singing, prancing around no bra just a little blouse and shorts. She looks out the window and there’s the handsome young gardener bare chested with all those rippling muscles. Her lower department is getting damp. No problems just an invitation to come on in for a glass of iced tea. He doesn’t ask a question. He is in the house and they’re tearing each other’s clothes off and having a great role on the hay. No fuss no muss no kids no cooking just the two of them having a little fun in heaven. Okay Guys that’s how it is for both men and women. Women have the exact same problems as the men. They too find creative ways to solve them. Humans have been doing it forever and it will continue forever”
As I Left with my Pennsylvania Cherry I thanked them for the Blue Collar Philosophy 101 on sexual dalliance and promised to be back for some more good wood.
Monday, April 18, 2011
Myzwell Getusedtoit
Bronx Talk 1930s
We are in for a season or a year and a half of continuous campaigning for two basically different visions of what our country should look like. Thats what Myzwell ----------------is about. This was how we lived back in the 1930s between the New Deal vision and at the time the right wing “Fascist” vision of our future. It became a permanent struggle between two different views of our future.
Fascism was riding high in Europe. Mussolini and Hitler were solving the financial crisis of capitalism by instituting a State ruled by the military and the newly instituted Fascist Black and Brown shirts. Keep in mind that the Soviet Union was sitting there as an alternative to capitalism. That of course sharpened the struggle. At that time the organized left considered the threat of fascism the greatest danger. Hence a strategy of the United Front Against Fascism.
In the US that meant fully supporting F.D.R. against his right wing opponents some at least had open fascist support. In the 1936 Roosevelt reelection campaign the left vigorously supported the reelection of FDR. Did we think that he was the ideal candidate to ward off the attacks from the far right? Probably not. The issue came down to, how do we stop the far right march to fascism. Lessons for today.
Solving the problems of capitalism on the backs of the poor and the working class. Congressmen Ryan’s GOP plan for the future does precisely that. Hell, he doesn’t even want those millionaire tax cuts to die. These GOP folks do not believe the Government should have any role whatsoever in helping its citizens to lead healthy secure lives. They believe it should be like the old Wild West everybody on their own and with a gun, even in the classroom. It has its resemblance to the 30s by putting the cost of the economic crisis on the backs of those least able to afford it. While the rich get richer all the time.
What’s the lesson here? We need to build all possible support for Obama. Is he the perfect candidate for the fight ahead? Maybe not. We could probably sit around the bar over a few beers and create a dream candidate. FDR for empathy. Teddy Roosevelt for fighting spirit. John F. Kennedy for charm. Abe Lincoln for honesty. Eisenhower to bring along the military. Role em into one and ipso facto you got the perfect candidate. In the meantime back to reality.
What I have observed about Obama is that he does respond when his supporters yell. “for Gods Sake Obama get in there and start fighting” he responds. For instance, I think the militant actions in Madison Wisconsin has strengthened the Presidents resolve. (Pssst, That’s what moved FDR into action.) The Labor movement raising hell about who was going to pay for getting us out of the mess that the banks got us into in the first place. They are getting big fat bonuses while the the unemployed are getting the shaft.
Madison Wisconsin has shown us what needs to be done. The more we are able to do that the easier it will be to support our President. As they said in the Bronx “Myzwellget usedtoit”. We are looking at 18 months of sheeeet in the fan. I do promise to write about other stuff at least once in a while. Just to make sure that everyday life can go on. At least mine.
We are in for a season or a year and a half of continuous campaigning for two basically different visions of what our country should look like. Thats what Myzwell ----------------is about. This was how we lived back in the 1930s between the New Deal vision and at the time the right wing “Fascist” vision of our future. It became a permanent struggle between two different views of our future.
Fascism was riding high in Europe. Mussolini and Hitler were solving the financial crisis of capitalism by instituting a State ruled by the military and the newly instituted Fascist Black and Brown shirts. Keep in mind that the Soviet Union was sitting there as an alternative to capitalism. That of course sharpened the struggle. At that time the organized left considered the threat of fascism the greatest danger. Hence a strategy of the United Front Against Fascism.
In the US that meant fully supporting F.D.R. against his right wing opponents some at least had open fascist support. In the 1936 Roosevelt reelection campaign the left vigorously supported the reelection of FDR. Did we think that he was the ideal candidate to ward off the attacks from the far right? Probably not. The issue came down to, how do we stop the far right march to fascism. Lessons for today.
Solving the problems of capitalism on the backs of the poor and the working class. Congressmen Ryan’s GOP plan for the future does precisely that. Hell, he doesn’t even want those millionaire tax cuts to die. These GOP folks do not believe the Government should have any role whatsoever in helping its citizens to lead healthy secure lives. They believe it should be like the old Wild West everybody on their own and with a gun, even in the classroom. It has its resemblance to the 30s by putting the cost of the economic crisis on the backs of those least able to afford it. While the rich get richer all the time.
What’s the lesson here? We need to build all possible support for Obama. Is he the perfect candidate for the fight ahead? Maybe not. We could probably sit around the bar over a few beers and create a dream candidate. FDR for empathy. Teddy Roosevelt for fighting spirit. John F. Kennedy for charm. Abe Lincoln for honesty. Eisenhower to bring along the military. Role em into one and ipso facto you got the perfect candidate. In the meantime back to reality.
What I have observed about Obama is that he does respond when his supporters yell. “for Gods Sake Obama get in there and start fighting” he responds. For instance, I think the militant actions in Madison Wisconsin has strengthened the Presidents resolve. (Pssst, That’s what moved FDR into action.) The Labor movement raising hell about who was going to pay for getting us out of the mess that the banks got us into in the first place. They are getting big fat bonuses while the the unemployed are getting the shaft.
Madison Wisconsin has shown us what needs to be done. The more we are able to do that the easier it will be to support our President. As they said in the Bronx “Myzwellget usedtoit”. We are looking at 18 months of sheeeet in the fan. I do promise to write about other stuff at least once in a while. Just to make sure that everyday life can go on. At least mine.
Saturday, April 9, 2011
Soren The Decade of 2000
This is another in a series of “Decades” to my Great grandson Soren.
Soren The Decade of 2000
Twenty First Century begins.
Sodom and Gomorra? Genesis 13.10 Worst than 20th? Could be?
Presidential election 2002 people voted Al Gore
Republican Court, Supreme, “George Bush President.”
9/11 Tallest skyscrapers in New York
New York City building code ignored.
Become terrorist rubble in a few hours.
Top floor fell all 80 down as dominoes.
3000 innocents die. You wonder? Why?
Islamic jobless men bored, believe Ben Laden
“Western peoples satanic enemies.”
Cowboy Texas Bush,” Iraq has Nuke Bombs, And oil.”
“Get em dead or alive.” Ben Laden that is.
Dream America, “You bet we can have it all”
Heah this could be a nightmare? Iraqi ruler Hussein
“Tried to kill my father” Texas Bush.
To war. Like in the movies? No,George real bullets.
Kills 4400 US soldiers, 33,000 hurting wounded.
Cost us--- USA 3 Trillion Dollars, You guessed it
We’re going broke, more to come.
Yupp, Hurricane Katrina wiped out New Orleans.
Old levees didn’t hold. 4000 dead 94,000 homeless.
President George wonders “What to do?”
Heah take Air Force 1 view wreckage. That's nice.
Asian Tsunami wipes out coastal villages 200,000 die.
Gonna skip the school shootings. (Trying to lighten up a bit.)
Comes 2008, the economy goes into toilet.
Worst economic bust since Grandpa was 12.
Soren, hang in there.
Grandpa still looking for good stuff
But housing bubble keeps bubbling.
Good ordinary people dreaming,
Conned into houses can’t pay for.
Meantime.
Wall Street bonuses in the billions!
Bubble bust 4 million homes foreclosed.
Good bye American dream.
Near decade end a miracle.
First Black elected President in this dear land.
People expect miracles. Maybe cause he’s Black?.
There ain’t none.
Internet substitute for eyeball or handshake.
We mexteck instead. Oh, you know about that!
Globalization, Good old Imperialism in new garb.
GrandpaBob worries, the Red Wing Blackbirds
Have not come back. (Industrial Revolution disease.)
Our lovely sick planet. I’m sorry for the big party.
We used up to much of the earths goodies.
Via “We can have it all, We can have it all”
Left our pollution in the air. our garbage in the sea
Your generation wondering, What we’re they thinking?
Some of us tried. Could not stop the race to “We can have it all.”
Sorry about that. Okay, I’m at the bottom of the barrel here.
How about that Rocking Horse I made for you?
Will I be here for another decade? We’ll see?
Love Great Grandpa Bob
Soren The Decade of 2000
Twenty First Century begins.
Sodom and Gomorra? Genesis 13.10 Worst than 20th? Could be?
Presidential election 2002 people voted Al Gore
Republican Court, Supreme, “George Bush President.”
9/11 Tallest skyscrapers in New York
New York City building code ignored.
Become terrorist rubble in a few hours.
Top floor fell all 80 down as dominoes.
3000 innocents die. You wonder? Why?
Islamic jobless men bored, believe Ben Laden
“Western peoples satanic enemies.”
Cowboy Texas Bush,” Iraq has Nuke Bombs, And oil.”
“Get em dead or alive.” Ben Laden that is.
Dream America, “You bet we can have it all”
Heah this could be a nightmare? Iraqi ruler Hussein
“Tried to kill my father” Texas Bush.
To war. Like in the movies? No,George real bullets.
Kills 4400 US soldiers, 33,000 hurting wounded.
Cost us--- USA 3 Trillion Dollars, You guessed it
We’re going broke, more to come.
Yupp, Hurricane Katrina wiped out New Orleans.
Old levees didn’t hold. 4000 dead 94,000 homeless.
President George wonders “What to do?”
Heah take Air Force 1 view wreckage. That's nice.
Asian Tsunami wipes out coastal villages 200,000 die.
Gonna skip the school shootings. (Trying to lighten up a bit.)
Comes 2008, the economy goes into toilet.
Worst economic bust since Grandpa was 12.
Soren, hang in there.
Grandpa still looking for good stuff
But housing bubble keeps bubbling.
Good ordinary people dreaming,
Conned into houses can’t pay for.
Meantime.
Wall Street bonuses in the billions!
Bubble bust 4 million homes foreclosed.
Good bye American dream.
Near decade end a miracle.
First Black elected President in this dear land.
People expect miracles. Maybe cause he’s Black?.
There ain’t none.
Internet substitute for eyeball or handshake.
We mexteck instead. Oh, you know about that!
Globalization, Good old Imperialism in new garb.
GrandpaBob worries, the Red Wing Blackbirds
Have not come back. (Industrial Revolution disease.)
Our lovely sick planet. I’m sorry for the big party.
We used up to much of the earths goodies.
Via “We can have it all, We can have it all”
Left our pollution in the air. our garbage in the sea
Your generation wondering, What we’re they thinking?
Some of us tried. Could not stop the race to “We can have it all.”
Sorry about that. Okay, I’m at the bottom of the barrel here.
How about that Rocking Horse I made for you?
Will I be here for another decade? We’ll see?
Love Great Grandpa Bob
Sunday, April 3, 2011
Cobra Snake Odyssey !
This dammed computer that made me do this blog over because I lost the first try somewhere in that dark dungeon inside its guts. Why am I so sure it was better than this one? (This computer is the greatest love hate relationship of my long life.)
Yes, they did find the Egyptian Cobra snake inside its home at the Bronx Zoo coiled up in a corner under some pipes. The Cobra is a good metaphor of what’s going on in Egypt. Mubarak may be gone but the Generals who kept him in power are still running the country. Like the good citizens of Egypt the snake was just looking for her freedom. Alas it didn’t happen. As it is not happening in Egypt. Of course this brings me to my story.
As some of my regular readers know I grew up a short distance from the Bronx Zoo. At 181st Street entrance there is a lake created by a dam on the Bronx River. It was built by the Lorllard Tobacco Company back in the late 1890s as a water powered Snuff Mill. The Boathouse at the river rents out row boats.
In my 12-13 years after school and on weekends I would run down to the Boathouse and see if I could earn a quarter an hour rowing people around the river. There were lots of “row boys” competing for the quarter. Remember this was the Great Depression. We needed to pass a rowing test in order to be “certified.” That was done by an ex boxer who ran the Boathouse and was simply known as Boss.
It was on a beautiful sun drenched Spring day I was fooling around with a bunch of other Dock Boys when Boss came over to me, said “I want you to row Dr. Dit--------ous around the lake. Do not take any money from him. He runs the Zoo and we got to be real nice to him, okay?” Of course I said yes, what else could I do? But I sure did not like the not getting paid idea.
As we climbed into the boat me in the middle seat facing the man sitting in the stern seat. He introduced himself as Dr. Raymond Ditmars. Added “Bob just call me Raymond.” As I rowed up river he kept a close eye on the banks as if looking for something.Then would suddenly pointing say, “over there.” I would head for the bank as he climbed past me and was out of the boat as soon as it hit the dirt. For the love of me I couldn't figure out what on earth he was doing?
Yupp, there he was the head man at the Zoo turning over rocks shouting, “come here boy and see this. This is a family of Salamanders. Here are some little fish probably Shiners. Oh look at these ant nests and worms, worms,” he was in heaven. That’s how we spent the afternoon from one bank to the other turning over rocks checking on creeks leading onto the river and all the time exclaiming how wonderful it is to explore the earth.
Raymond looked at his watch said, “by God we better get back they’ll be wondering what happened to us.” As we pulled up to the dock Dr. Ditmars said, “now Bob if your ever in the Zoo don’t forget to visit me over in the Snake House.” Boss met us and Raymond assured him we had a wonderful afternoon.
It was some time later I was wondering around the Zoo with me sister Hedda who is a couple of years older than me. As we passed the Snake House I told her about Dr. Ditmars. I could tell she was a little skeptical of what might be just another “Bobbie story.” Once inside the building I asked the Keeper if Dr. Ditmars was there? “Yes” he said and, “who might I say is calling?” Oh just tell him it’s Bob the Rowboy from the Boathouse.” A short time later Dr. Ditmars came out gave me a big greeting as I introduced him to my sister. he suggested we go behind the cages and see the new life being born out back.
As we walked along our guide kept up a constant talk about how snakes are misunderstood. “They are really quiet friendly. It’s only when we encroach upon their turf that they get nervous. Even then a rattlesnake will give you warning, your getting to close." In the middle of the talk he brought out a snake about 2 foot long and threw it around Hedda’s shoulders. Poor Hedda just froze as I wondered if this man was crazy. He just laughed said “look the Garter snake is just looking for a nice warm spot to settle down, maybe in your armpit to take a nap.” Slowly as my sister and I recovered our composure we also began to laugh with our Snake House Guide.
What I mostly learned form Raymond Ditmars was, his passionate love of nature. The need to understand it and give all creatures their space. Yet the the most important of all for me was the turning over rocks to see what might be hidden underneath. Maybe I have been doing that for most of my life.
PS. Some time ago I learned that Newt Gingrich claimed that Dr. Ditmars was an inspiration for much of his life. No, we are not strange bedfellows. We probably found different things that we were looking for. This boy will keep looking under rocks. Thank you Raymond Ditmars.
Reminded of the last stanza of a poem Emily Dicknson.
Never met this fellow,
Attended or alone,
Without a tighter breathing.
And a zero at the bone.
Yes, they did find the Egyptian Cobra snake inside its home at the Bronx Zoo coiled up in a corner under some pipes. The Cobra is a good metaphor of what’s going on in Egypt. Mubarak may be gone but the Generals who kept him in power are still running the country. Like the good citizens of Egypt the snake was just looking for her freedom. Alas it didn’t happen. As it is not happening in Egypt. Of course this brings me to my story.
As some of my regular readers know I grew up a short distance from the Bronx Zoo. At 181st Street entrance there is a lake created by a dam on the Bronx River. It was built by the Lorllard Tobacco Company back in the late 1890s as a water powered Snuff Mill. The Boathouse at the river rents out row boats.
In my 12-13 years after school and on weekends I would run down to the Boathouse and see if I could earn a quarter an hour rowing people around the river. There were lots of “row boys” competing for the quarter. Remember this was the Great Depression. We needed to pass a rowing test in order to be “certified.” That was done by an ex boxer who ran the Boathouse and was simply known as Boss.
It was on a beautiful sun drenched Spring day I was fooling around with a bunch of other Dock Boys when Boss came over to me, said “I want you to row Dr. Dit--------ous around the lake. Do not take any money from him. He runs the Zoo and we got to be real nice to him, okay?” Of course I said yes, what else could I do? But I sure did not like the not getting paid idea.
As we climbed into the boat me in the middle seat facing the man sitting in the stern seat. He introduced himself as Dr. Raymond Ditmars. Added “Bob just call me Raymond.” As I rowed up river he kept a close eye on the banks as if looking for something.Then would suddenly pointing say, “over there.” I would head for the bank as he climbed past me and was out of the boat as soon as it hit the dirt. For the love of me I couldn't figure out what on earth he was doing?
Yupp, there he was the head man at the Zoo turning over rocks shouting, “come here boy and see this. This is a family of Salamanders. Here are some little fish probably Shiners. Oh look at these ant nests and worms, worms,” he was in heaven. That’s how we spent the afternoon from one bank to the other turning over rocks checking on creeks leading onto the river and all the time exclaiming how wonderful it is to explore the earth.
Raymond looked at his watch said, “by God we better get back they’ll be wondering what happened to us.” As we pulled up to the dock Dr. Ditmars said, “now Bob if your ever in the Zoo don’t forget to visit me over in the Snake House.” Boss met us and Raymond assured him we had a wonderful afternoon.
It was some time later I was wondering around the Zoo with me sister Hedda who is a couple of years older than me. As we passed the Snake House I told her about Dr. Ditmars. I could tell she was a little skeptical of what might be just another “Bobbie story.” Once inside the building I asked the Keeper if Dr. Ditmars was there? “Yes” he said and, “who might I say is calling?” Oh just tell him it’s Bob the Rowboy from the Boathouse.” A short time later Dr. Ditmars came out gave me a big greeting as I introduced him to my sister. he suggested we go behind the cages and see the new life being born out back.
As we walked along our guide kept up a constant talk about how snakes are misunderstood. “They are really quiet friendly. It’s only when we encroach upon their turf that they get nervous. Even then a rattlesnake will give you warning, your getting to close." In the middle of the talk he brought out a snake about 2 foot long and threw it around Hedda’s shoulders. Poor Hedda just froze as I wondered if this man was crazy. He just laughed said “look the Garter snake is just looking for a nice warm spot to settle down, maybe in your armpit to take a nap.” Slowly as my sister and I recovered our composure we also began to laugh with our Snake House Guide.
What I mostly learned form Raymond Ditmars was, his passionate love of nature. The need to understand it and give all creatures their space. Yet the the most important of all for me was the turning over rocks to see what might be hidden underneath. Maybe I have been doing that for most of my life.
PS. Some time ago I learned that Newt Gingrich claimed that Dr. Ditmars was an inspiration for much of his life. No, we are not strange bedfellows. We probably found different things that we were looking for. This boy will keep looking under rocks. Thank you Raymond Ditmars.
Reminded of the last stanza of a poem Emily Dicknson.
Never met this fellow,
Attended or alone,
Without a tighter breathing.
And a zero at the bone.
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