URBAN CHICKENS

The first experience I had with in-town chickens was when I was a little girl in South Dakota.  Chickens roamed freely in our neighbor’s backyard, and I enjoyed sitting in our tree watching her chase after them.  It was great sport, until the day she caught one of them by the neck, swung it up into the air, and ended up with the chicken’s head in her hand. The cluck less bird dropped to the ground, and kept right on running. That was the last time I played “Chicken Watcher” or read  THE LEGEND OF SLEEPY HOLLOW.

When my husband was in kindergarten, his neighbors kept chicken coops in their backyard, and he invited his whole class to come to his house for milk, cookies and chicken viewing.  Unfortunately, he had failed to tell his mother or the neighbors that they were coming. That was the last time he threw a surprise party.

Recently, with a unanimous vote, the Tucson City Council approved an urban agriculture amendment, allowing, backyard, food-producing animals at a residence. This involves using “animal units.” A chicken will count as one unit, and a turkey as four units. No male fowl are allowed, which takes the cock out of a-doodle-doo. Backyard coops have to be at least 20 feet from a neighbor’s house. One council member raised concerns about noise level regarding geese.

My brother’s house in Florida is next to a beautiful pond (once you scrape the green scum off the top of it). When he moved in, he thought the wild geese were charming, and he enjoyed feeding them the first day. The next day, he didn’t think they were so cute when he had to shovel his car out from under goose poop.

So now, in Tucson, people can raise chickens, and geese and hedgehogs. Yes, hedgehogs.  I suspect they are a bit chewy, but they come with their own toothpicks. The spiny little critters are now declared suitable in Arizona as house pets. The type sold won’t survive in the wild, which is a good thing, because our coyotes, hawks, bobcats and great horned owls would probably enjoy a hedgehog dessert after eating all that chicken. Having a hedgehog as a pet is like having a porcupine for a pet, but not as prickly.

It used to be that in Arizona people could own all kinds of animals except great apes. However, there were no laws preventing those primates from getting voted into the Arizona Legislature.

Now, if you own a Desert Tortoise, you can be fined for letting them reproduce in captivity. If you own a male and female, you are required to keep them separated, because when they go at it, there is no stopping them. Remember the story about the Tortoise and the Hare? The Tortoise never gave up and the Hare stopped to rest.  So, who gave bunnies that bad reputation?

When the creek bed behind my house is dry, I can walk down the road, past my neighbor’s show horses and on to another neighbor’s “Zoo.” He has some deer, a sorry looking bull-something, and a few peacocks. One of his peacocks escaped and landed in my front yard. I shooed it onto my neighbor’s roof, and it kept screeching, “Help, Help.”  That’s the way they sound. Finally, someone threw a raincoat over it, and took it back to the “Zoo.”

 If someone living here got some rooster-less chickens, it might not be so bad, because, after 21 years, I’ve gotten used to having a cluck or two in the neighborhood.

Esther Blumenfeld (“I did not become a vegetarian for my health, I did it for the health of the chickens.)  Isaac Bashevis Singer

A STICK, A STONE, AND SOME WORDS

Taking my hike this morning, I started to think (must have been the blood pumping while going uphill) about how unkind some people have become. Civil discourse is a thing of the past, and conversation has become a garbage dumping ground.  Johnny Depp warns us; “You gotta be careful: don’t say a word to nobody about nothing anytime ever.”

It seems as if people have forgotten that everything you say and everything you do affects someone else. Words can hurt and damage another person in profound ways.

Every morning, I first read the sports page and then the funny papers. I want to know what’s going on in sports, so I won’t look like a total fool when my friends wax poetic about football or basketball. And I know that occasionally I can glean some wisdom from the funnies.

In the balloons above a little cartoon character’s head, I recently read, “Before you say something, ask: Is it true? Is it kind” Is it necessary?” Sage questions indeed. Friendship can end in an instant because of a stupid word. However a sense of humor helps when it’s more of a slip of the tongue than an intentional slur.

Luckily, my friend, Paula is gifted with a keen wit, and often she is sneaky fast with a comeback.  Her husband, of blessed memory, was a renowned physician and professor, and often attended scientific meetings around the Country. One day, a woman said to Paula, “How do you know he’s being faithful to you when he’s gone?” Paula replied, “I know, because if he can’t publish it, he won’t do it.”

Atlanta, Pulitzer Prize winning journalist, Ralph McGill was often criticized for his forthright columns in the Atlanta Constitution supporting the Civil Rights Movement. He was a Southerner who loved the South, but recognized the destructive effects of bigotry. His response to the poisonous criticism he received from some of his readers was always, “You just may be right,” which left no room for argument, and also intimated, “ And, you just may be wrong.” It was a powerful response given with civility.

Unfortunately, there are intrusive people who don’t know boundaries. Several years ago, I was taking a stroll in my neighborhood, happily talking to myself, when a neighbor, renowned for his boorishness, interrupted my conversation and said; “I just put a new roof on my house. It was very expensive. Do you want to know what I paid for it?”  “ No, I don’t,” I replied. “But, I want to tell you,” he said. “Sorry,” I replied.  “I still don’t want to know.”  It was a truthful statement.  I don’t think I was unkind, and it was certainly necessary since his roof was of no interest to me.  Now, his house is on the market.  I’m sure that when he sells it, he will send me a bill of sale---including the price of his roof. Some people are just like that.

Esther Blumenfeld  (“Be careful what you say---It has a habit of coming back to boomerang you on the bum.”) anonymous Australian

SURPRISE!

About 25 years ago, while I was shopping in a department store in Atlanta, a man called me by name, gave me a bear hug and said, “What a wonderful surprise running into you. It’s been years. You haven’t changed a bit!  How are you?” Backing away from him, I told him that I was fine, my husband was fine and my son was just fine, and then asked him, “How long has it been since we last ran into each other?”

He said, “Well, it’s been at least eight years. You know that seven years ago we got a divorce.” “No,” I replied, “I didn’t know that.” I didn’t know whether to say, “I’m sorry to hear that” or not. After all, it had been seven years.

The bear hugging man proceeded to tell me about his job and his son and other news such as, “You may have noticed that I grew a mustache.”  It wasn’t much of a mustache, so I didn’t think it called for much of a response, so I just nodded my head.

Finally, when he stopped to take a breath, I quickly jumped in with, “It, has really been something running into you after all of these years, but I have to go now. By the way, we are moving to Arizona, so I guess I won’t see you again.”

 He laughed and said, “What a coincidence. Sometimes I have business in Arizona. Maybe, one of these days I’ll surprise you again.”

I have been in Arizona for twenty-one years now, and to this day, I still have no idea who that man was, but if he shows up in Tucson, I can promise you, I won’t recognize him all over again. Surprises can be like that.

Esther Blumenfeld (“Live long enough and you will see everything.”) Fagel Blumenfeld

DO YOUR BEST

Wherever there’s a skill, there seems to be a competition for those who want to be recognized as the best at what they do.  There are contests in dance, voice, spelling, and even beauty, although I don’t think those contestants, in bathing suits, need as much skill as chess players.

A few years ago, I received a competition VHS tape from my window washer, Lou Bright. He is a member of the International Window Cleaning Association, and won a medal in the International Window Cleaning Contest. As a finalist, he had competed in three divisions: Speed, Skill and a Nine-Widow-Panel Obstacle Course.

The Obstacle Course is judged on accuracy and is very subjective like figure skating in the Olympics. A one-half point is taken off for every mistake. As I watched the tape, I saw the judges sitting directly on the other side of the windows. The contestants’ tools were: water, squeegees, and towels.

The first was a Speed Contest and the judges watched closely from the other side of the three panel window, as some of the competitors squeegeed from top to bottom and others from bottom to top, knocking off water in record speed. A short speedy Frenchman won in no time flat.

The next contest was for skill. The judges placed their noses close to the glass, intently staring out, while on the other side, combatants duked it out one-by-one aiming for accuracy. No drip could show up in this contest (water not person). And, as each contestant finished, the judges disdainfully pointed out little spots of water to the disappointed washer. The last contest, an Obstacle Course, involved a nine-pane trick window with a recessed frame.

IWCA was established in 1989 by a group of window cleaners from Lubbock, Texas who determined there should be a voice for those working in the industry.   Allied with OSHA, the Association provides members with safety information. Now hundreds of window cleaners from around the world convene at the International Window Cleaning Association Convention and Trade Show.

In 2008, window washing attracted the attention of the Mechanical Engineering Department at Michigan State University. A team of students competed against schools from all over the world---including Carnegie Mellon, Hong Kong Polytechnic, and Colorado State. They won with their window-washing robot called “Winboni,” a tiny square robot that runs on AA batteries and attaches itself to a window with a suction fan. It moves across the window with powered wheels and scrubs it clean with felt pads.

When he won his medal, my friend. Lou Bright thanked his customers and his wife and dedicated his medal to his father, who had always encouraged him to “Be the best at what you do.” Lou is the best at what he does.  He is a happy man who enjoys his work.  It allows him time to ski in the winter, and he had the privilege of washing a window at the Eiffel Tower in Paris.  How many people can say any of that?

Esther Blumenfeld (“Be good at something. It makes you valuable.”) Randy Pausch

BUYER BEWARE

Often, people will ask me, “Where do you find your ideas?” My answer is, “Everywhere.”

Years ago, there was an ad in the Atlanta newspaper.  It read: “Car for sale. Good condition. Also for sale, a very small Chihuahua. $1500.00 for both the car and the dog, or $1800.00 for the car only.”

Recently, I read that Hugh Hefner is putting his Playboy Mansion on the Market. The catch is that whoever buys the place will have to take Mr. Hefner along with the deal, since “staying on the premises” is a condition of the sale. Perhaps, the real estate agent should place an ad that reads: “For sale, Playboy Mansion. Also for sale, 89-year-old Playboy. $150 million for both, or $200 million for the house only.” The latest newsflash is that the old hustler, Larry Flynt might want to buy the house, but he doesn’t want his nemesis wandering about in his pajamas. 

If Hefner gets his way and someone buys him along with the house, the idea just might catch on. I can see it now. You are offered the purchase of a boat at a really good price, and you buy that boat at a price that is really too good to be true. However, when you are out in the middle of the lake, you notice that some guy is in the galley drinking your beer. You call the previous owner, and say, “I paid you for the boat. It’s mine. I’m out in the middle of the lake and some guy is in my galley drinking my beer. What’s up?”

“Well,” the previous owner replies. “You got the boat cheap and now it’s yours, but you also got my brother-in-law. He lived off of me for years, and now he’s yours. It’s all part of the deal."

Or, perhaps you purchase a really cheap first class airline ticket to Las Vegas. Right before the plane takes off, an old lady sits in your lap. You ask the flight attendant. “What’s going on?” She replies, “Oh, that’s the travel agent’s mother. She’s always wanted to go to Las Vegas.  You purchased her along with your ticket. Fasten your seatbelt around both of you. It’s going to be a bumpy ride.”

And then there’s the kid sitting in the seat of your grocery-shopping cart. There will be no end to the opportunities presented when Hefner sets the precedent for the “I’m part of the sale” rule. But I digress.

I assume that if someone buys the Playboy Mansion and allows Mr. Hefner to be part of the closing, the new owner will impose a few rules such as, “You can stay, but I don’t want Flopsy or Mopsy doing the Bunny-hop in my house before 10 a.m.”

Esther Blumenfeld  (Todos Tem Um Preco)