A Little Family History

A number of readers have asked me about my family lineage.  It is colorful indeed.  There was my great uncle Waldo, an inventor.  He came up with a soft drink he felt couldn’t miss.  Called it Dr. Salt.  So near and yet so far . . . My dad’s second cousin Norman became a doctor, specializing in Diseases of the Wealthy.  Died a happy man.  Left a substantial estate, too.

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No family history would be complete without my dad.  Pop had a unique talent with fire; as in how to unexpectedly cause same.  One year shortly after Christmas,  we were going over to see my grandfolks.  Mom had long since stripped the tree of ornaments and lights.  Dad’s job was to burn it.  He kept putting it off.  Finally mom instructed him to take care of the tree before we came to The City.  Back then, there was no bowl of water to set the tree in and keep it somewhat moist.  The proper method of disposal was to cut the tree into very small pieces and slowly feed it into the fireplace.  But dad was under pressure.  He took the entire dry-as-a-bone seven foot tree, shoved it into said area, and struck a match.  Flames shot out of the chimney.  The entire neighborhood came out to watch . . . When I was a teenager dad was set to barbeque some steaks on the back patio.  We didn’t have the fancy self-starting BBQs that exist today.  You put in the charcoal, doused it with charcoal fluid, and struck matches until it eventually lit.  Patience was not one of Pop’s strong suits.  He gave the method what he felt was a reasonable amount of time, then went to the garage, fetched some kerosene, doused the coals liberally with it, and struck a match from two  feet away.  Suddenly there was a blinding flash of light, followed by a loud yelp, followed by Pop running into the family room, his eyebrows and hair burned off and face blackened.  It was Macaroni & Cheese for dinner that night.

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Finally there’s me.  I used to fancy myself a songwriter.  I produced one I was certain would go straight to the top of the charts.  Called it “Mack The Fork”.  As Don Adams used to say on “Get Smart”, his thumb and index fingers held about a millimeter apart, “Missed it by that much”.

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One More Thing:  W.C. Fields on his family lore:  “My ninth cousin twice removed, Benjamin C. Fields, would have discovered electricity before Mr. Franklin, but he was too poor to buy a kite.  He had to go out and hire one.  We have a picture of him in front of the town saloon.  He was hirin’ a kite.



Ohnothinmagain

FOR SOME REASON, I'm remembering Woody Allen's great joke: "I divide life into two categories: There's the miserable and the horrible. The horrible are people that are born with physical or mental challenges; I don't know how they get thru life. And the miserable is everybody else" . . . Bill Maher said it: "America is the only country on the planet that has overweight poor people" . . .  Or as Chris Rock put it: "We ain't got the flies buzzing around the head thing going on here". . .  Okay, try as I might, I can't stay out of political comment: It seems to me that most of the Republicans running for president shouldn't be in politics. They should be in therapy . . . I get a kick out of Washington pols who say government can't create jobs. Excuse me, W.P.: Don't YOU have a government job? . . . What's all the nonsense I keep reading about Cereal Killers? Cereal is already dead. Why do we waste our time debating these meaningless sideshows? We should be focusing our attention on REAL issues, such as people who murder others and then do it again! Talk about threats to our society! . . . Did you know that the head of the NAACP (National Association for the Advancement of Certain People, I think) is a fellow name Ben Jealous? Seems to me a visit to City Hall to fill out the necessary name change forms may be in order.

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OUT OF MY MIND: It's early and risky to write about this, but for the first time in 40 years of voting, unless something extraordinary happens, my 2012 presidential vote is pre-decided. Truth in advertising: I'm a loyal lifelong democrat. This hasn't always been easy. My first and most joyful vote was for George McGovern in 1972; no way of knowing how that would have turned out, since he lost 60-40, although he would have had a democratic congress. In 1976, I voted for Libertarian Party because I was so turned off by Mr. Carter. In 1980, however, I voted for Carter since I was frightened of Reagan (my bad, President Reagan turned out to be the one of the great 20th century presidents) Not having learned my lesson, I cheerfully voted for Mr. Mondale in 1984. Another overwhelming loss. In 1988 I went for Dukakis, but not with much enthusiasm. George Bush Sr. wasn't a bad president. In 1992 I voted for Gov. Clinton, with nose held high. In 1996 I voted for Ralph Nader, because I was concerned about Travelgate, Filegate, Whitewater , and other scandals not including Monica Lewinski (Hadn't come up yet). We've forgotten all that, and Mr. Clinton seems to be wearing well in history. In 2000 I voted for Vice President Gore, who got the most votes (look it up). What can I say about Lil' Bush? Just when we thought we'd scraped the bottom of the barrel with Nixon, Bush came along to show that if you lift up the barrel, ---well, you figure it out. In 2004 (almost finished) I voted without much enthusiasm for Sen. Kerry. He did not get the most votes. This brings us to 2008. First I was resigned to Hillary Clinton. The more I heard about Sen. Obama, the more attracted I become. He's my most cheerful vote since McGovern and Mondale. Why? He's the first real progressive since T.R. & F.D.R. Lyndon Johnson came close with the Great Society but stubbed his toe and then his Presidency on Vietnam. I think President Obama's heart is in exactly the right place. Once we elect these guys, we always criticize them. That's because they can NEVER do all they've promised. Of course Obama has disappointed. HE'S NOT LIBERAL ENOUGH! Folks, If you're liberal, I defy you to come up with a better alternative. This guy is the real article. The economy was in a free-fall in 2008, that is no longer the case --- we've come back. Health care has happened. We need more, but National Health Care seems to be working well in places like Canada, Australia, and Sweden. His foreign policy judgments have been astonishing. He's pushing to make the tax burden more fair (Shame on you, Repubs!). Okay, Mr. President, I'm sold, Now, I want to know what YOU think. Drop me a line, I'll print what I get. We'll talk it over.

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A HAIKU IS a 17-syllable Japanese poem. New York City has taken to issuing them to pedestrians to wit: "A sudden car door/Cyclist's story rewritten/Fractured narrative" . . . Mr. Thrifty!  Fellow from Texas locked himself out of his house; decided it would be cheaper to enter thru the chimney then call a locksmith. "Even if you could fit down the chimney flue, I can't see anybody getting past the damper assembly" said the fire marshall, after his crew pulled the guy out.

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ACCORDING TO ROBIN WILLIAMS: " You're only given little spark of madness. You mustn't lose it."

ON CHRISTMAS DAY 1997, a tiger escaped from its enclosure at the San Francisco zoo, killing one young man and mauling two others. It was a national story, but particularly in my home town. This column originally appeared in January 2008, in the San Francisco City Star.

ABOUT the INCIDENT at the ZOO

There is no joy in writing this column.  You’d have to have ice water in your veins not to feel overwhelmed by the magnitude of this event.  A young man will never experience the joys and sorrows  that only the spectrum of a full life can bring.  His family is forever in unspeakable pain.  The other young men, thankfully, are out of the hospital.  There is another victim:  An innocent animal.

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So how do we come to grips with this?  Let’s look at the zoo first.  Was the moat long and deep enough?  No.  Was the wall high enough?  Obviously not.  How did we find out?  The same way we always find out:  Something Happened.  An analogy:  My grandfather was in real estate.  He was very nervous about dealing with property in the inner Marina.  Why?  He had lived through the 1906 quake and knew the land was filled to create space for the 1915 Panama-Pacific Exposition.  Many thought him to be an over-reacting alarmist.  He died in 1954, taking that reputation with him.  Thirty-five years later, Something Happened.  How did we respond?  We rebuilt, hopefully stronger and safer.  Did we get it right?  We’ll know when Something Happens.  Will there be changes at the Zoo?  You can take that one to the bank.  Will they suffice?  Again, we’ll know if Something Happens.

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And what about the tiger?  It is guilty of being itself; no more and no less.  It is a predator.  My gentle housecat Oly, when she sees a fly, goes into a crouch,  creeps slowly towards it, and pounces.    It isn’t food, it isn’t sport; it’s instinct.  Given this, how would it feel if, instead of already-dead meat, potential living and moving prey was separated from you by only waterless moat and a wall?  The animal involved had already attacked its’ handler, badly mauling her.  Should it have been euthanized then?  Tough call.  Should it have been released in the wild to fend for itself?  If I took Oly to the Marin Headlands and let her go, she wouldn’t survive 24 hours.  This dilemma will never change as long as we have animals in captivity that are bound to occasionally act out their natural instincts.

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Finally, what role do we play in this?  Where I grew up, there were deer, squirrels, fox, skunks, even the occasional bobcat.  We intuitively knew to stay away from them, and, unless startled, they treated us with the same deference.  Is the answer to close the Zoos?  Absolutely not.  Zoos are a terrific place to acquaint us (especially our kids) with the fascinating array of species with which we co-habit this planet.  With regard to our zoo, this is the twenty-second incident to occur in the last sixty years.  One other involved a civilian; someone who had climbed over the fence, fallen into the moat, and was mauled.  All of the other events involved animal handlers or simple escapes.  There have been no human deaths.  To me, this speaks well of our Zoos’ safety record.  I would not care to meet a wild camel by being dropped defenseless into the Sahara.  No doubt the camel feels the same way, but so far we haven’t come up with a better idea for our species to accomplish this, which to my way of thinking makes the Zoo a relevant and important place.  But here’s one thing we don’t share with animals:  They don’t assess blame and endlessly litigate, they take care of their situation and move on with their lives as best they can.  In this sense, perhaps we could take a page from their playbook.

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If this column seems a bit short, it’s because today there simply isn’t room for any Schnide Remarks.