The Low Country

They call the coastal area around Savannah Georgia, extending up the coast to South Carolina, the low country. Crisscrossed with rivers, creeks, and other waterways, it is flat country where the live oak trees sport thick beards of Spanish moss.

This is an area where people pay attention to the tides. This is not surprising when you literally live at sea level, and an especially high tide could wash over the coastal properties. Much of the seaside territory is salt marsh that stretches for miles, as seen in the photo above. At high tide, the reeds are largely submerged; as the tide recess, the reeds are exposed. In the distance you can see the barrier island that separates the area from the open sea.

We live in a big country with lots of different environmental areas and zones. The low country area is a good example of our ecological diversity.

The Cryptoqueen’s Gambit

The curious world of cryptocurrency continues to be a valuable source of insight into the human condition. Regrettably, that world arena seems to regularly expose two of our least attractive qualities: gullibility and greed.

CNN recently carried a fascinating story about a woman named Ruja Ignatova, who presented herself as the “Cryptoqueen.” It’s a tale of glitzy presentations by Ignatova back in 2014, 2015, and 2016 about her cryptocurrency company, called OneCoin, that was supposed to square off with Bitcoin and take over the crypto market. Credulous investors were allegedly promised outlandish returns of as much as five and ten times the value of their initial investment and put huge amounts of money into OneCoin, only to see it all vanish–along with Ignatova herself. The Cryptoqueen boarded a plane in Sofia, Bulgaria in October 2017 and disappeared. According to federal authorities, OneCoin was nothing but a gigantic Ponzi scheme, designed to bilk suckers out of their hard-earned cash.

Since then, the Cryptoqueen has been an international fugitive who can now be found only on the FBI’s 10 most wanted list. Her brother and a business colleague who were also involved in OneCoin, on the other hand, were arrested, have pleaded guilty to financial-related crimes, and are awaiting sentencing. The CNN story linked above describes the magnitude of the OneCoin scam as follows:

“Authorities say OneCoin was a pyramid scheme that defrauded people out of more than $4 billion as Ignatova convinced investors in the US and around the globe to throw fistfuls of cash at her company. Federal prosecutors describe OneCoin as one of the largest international fraud schemes ever perpetrated.”

U.S. investors chipped in about $50 million of that $4 billion, and the FBI is offering a $100,000 reward for information leading to the Cryptoqueen’s arrest. If you want to be on the lookout for her on your next international trip, be aware that Ignatova’s “most wanted” poster notes: “Ignatova is believed to travel with armed guards and/or associates. Ignatova may have had plastic surgery or otherwise altered her appearance.”

The Cryptoqueen’s gambit evidently allowed her to flee with lots of other people’s money. The ultimate lesson her gambit teaches is to beware of alleged “investments” that rely on flamboyant presentations and promise to somehow produce multiples of your buy-in through processes you don’t quite understand. The people who lost the money they put into OneCoin wish they had learned that lesson earlier, and been less gullible–and greedy.

Meanwhile, On The Right Whale And Lobster Watch . . . .

Winter can be cold and desolate in many places, but it seems that the outlook these days is especially bleak in Stonington and elsewhere along the Maine lobstering coast. The folks there aren’t concerned about the winter weather, though–they are afraid that their livelihoods, their businesses, and the long-time rhythms of their towns are in mortal peril.

I wrote a few months ago about the federal regulations designed to protect the endangered North Atlantic right whale and the devastating impact that the regulations are expected to have on the Maine lobster industry. If anything, the forecast for the future of Maine lobstering has gotten worse since then. After a federal district court in Maine issued an order last fall preventing the National Marine Fisheries Service from imposing a seasonal ban on lobster fishing in Maine, the First Circuit Court of Appeals temporarily stayed that order, ruling that the district court had over-stepped its role in determining that the agency lacked reliable evidence showing North Atlantic right whales were present in the restricted area. Last week the case was argued to the appellate court, and the federal government came down on the side of the right whales, arguing that the regulation should be upheld because the anticipated economic impact on the lobstering industry can’t trump the agency’s decision to protect the right whales.

Although the court case remains pending, the attitude along Maine’s coast is pessimistic. Last week the local Stonington newspaper, the Island Ad-Vantages, published an article headlined “Future looks dire for lobster fishery, coastal economy.” The article quotes Pat Kelliher, Maine Department of Marine Resources commissioner, as saying that the threat of the closure of the lobster fishery is “increasingly significant.” He’s concerned not just about the outcome of the court case, but also by the fact that lobstermen can’t get the supplies that would allow them to fish in compliance with the federal regulations. And another Maine DMR official is concerned that the federal government will issue even more restrictive rules in the near future.

Maine state representative Genevieve McDonald is quoted in the Island Ad-Vantages article as noting that the closure of the lobstering trade would have a massive, adverse ripple effect on the local economies along the Maine coast. The article states: “’That has far-reaching implications not just to our fishermen, but to the land-based infrastructure that supports the fishing industry,’ McDonald said in a phone interview. Along the coast, that includes banks, truck dealers, boat builders, gear suppliers, seafood dealers, restaurants, hotels and town governments.” That’s a pretty broad, negative impact on local economies and jobs.

Winters can be cold up in Stonington. The possibility that the lobstering trade, and the way of life that Stonington locals have known for generations, may be slipping away forever due to forces beyond their control just makes the chill that much colder.

Tom Brady’s Deal With The Devil

Next Sunday the Kansas City Chiefs will play the Tampa Bay Buccaneers in the Super Bowl. But for once, the real story isn’t about the two teams that are playing, or the fact that one of them will win the NFL championship. No, in this particular Super Bowl, the story is that Tom Brady, the ageless wonder, will be playing in his tenth Super Bowl and going for his seventh win — and this year he’s doing it with an entirely new team.

These numbers are staggering–especially when viewed from the perspective of a fan of the Cleveland Browns, which have never appeared in even one Super Bowl. Tom Brady has appeared in more Super Bowls than any other player, by a considerable margin. He’s also got more Super Bowl rings than any other player. And, to put some additional icing on the cake, Brady has also won the Super Bowl MVP trophy four times. Add to that the fact that Brady was drafted into the NFL in April 2000, is now 43 years old, and really doesn’t look all that much different now than he did 5, 10, or 15 years ago, and you’ve got to wonder: seriously, what’s with this guy?

Superstitious people of days gone by, seeing someone who has enjoyed outlandish success and who doesn’t appear to age like the rest of us, would say Tom Brady has made a deal with the devil. But as an interesting article points out, maybe this is just a case where you have to give the devil his due. Tom Brady hasn’t had success handed to him. He wasn’t the most sought-after star in high school, he wasn’t the big star at Michigan, and he wasn’t drafted until the 199th pick, after every team in the NFL, including the Browns, had passed on him multiple times. I’m surprised a Cleveland writer hasn’t written a book about a scientifically minded Browns fan who invents a time machine just so he could go back into the past to convince the 2000 Browns to draft Tom Brady instead of Spurgeon Wynn.

The reality is that Tom Brady is a great football player, sure — but he’s also someone who has been able to repeatedly motivate himself, over and over again, even after enjoying success to the point of excess. He hasn’t rested on his laurels. He’s stayed hungry and stayed in shape and worked hard to get back to the mountaintop, over and over and over again. And while you can certainly say that Tom Brady has played on some great teams over the years, he’s also made the key plays that allowed those teams to come out on top. Last week’s NFC championship game, where Brady threw a perfect, back-breaking touchdown pass with only seconds remaining in the first half, was vintage Brady.

It’s impossible to argue with the proposition that Tom Brady is the greatest quarterback ever, and he’s clearly the greatest winner in NFL history, too. Over the past decade or so, I’ve skipped watching some Super Bowls because it was boring to see Tom Brady and the New England Patriots playing every year. But this year, I’ll be watching because of Tom Brady. When you’ve got a chance to watch the greatest player of all time, you’ve got to seize it.

The Painting And The Photograph

Last night we went out for dinner with our long-time friends the Pisciottas. When they arrived for dinner Laura surprised us with the gift of this beautiful painting she did of a view from the Greenhead peninsula on Deer Isle, based on a photograph I took and posted on the blog.

We love Laura’s painting and its colors, and I think she really captures the calm, breathlessly quiet reality of that foggy morning view of the western harbor, just off Ocean Drive. You can compare it to the actual photograph, below. After the painting is fully dried we will frame it and find a suitable place to hang it at our place in German Village, so we can always be reminded of this serene Stonington scene.

Laura took up painting as a hobby, has really worked at it, and obviously has become quite accomplished — and also is talented enough to bring real feeling to her pieces. She joins the roster of other friends and family members who are talented painters and whose work is proudly displayed in our house — which features some great pieces by Russell, Laurie Clements, and now Laura Pisciotta. Thank you, Laura!

Shuffle Season

Good news — Shuffle Season is upon us.

Shuffle Season is that rare, all-too-brief time of year when the trees have dropped some — but not all — of their leaves. There is color in the canopy of leaves above and color on the ground and sidewalks below. And when you reach a stretch of leaf-covered sidewalk, the temptation to shuffle your feet through those drying leaves, to hear the rustle and crackle and crunch, and to kick some leaves into the air and let your inner kid loose, is irresistible.

I’m just old enough to remember when people routinely raked their leaves into leaf piles, let their kids play in the piles for a bit, and then raked the pile to the curb and burned the leaves. The authorities ultimately outlawed the burning, but I remember liking the distinctive autumnal smell of those burning leaves. The specific spicy smell is no doubt stored deep in my amygdala.

I’m too old now to play in leaf piles, but I can still enjoy Shuffle Season and those dried sidewalk leaves. You can, too.

A Football-Free Fall?

Will there be college football in the Midwest this autumn?  It’s become such a huge part of fall in the heartland that it’s almost unimaginable that the leaves could change and the air could chill without the clash of shoulder pads and helmets, tailgating, and the roar of crowds in huge stadiums.

But it is 2020, and the coronavirus is still burning its way through America, and we’ve just got to accept that things may well be different this ugly, star-crossed year.

The Mid-American Conference, which traditionally provides early season opponents for Big Ten schools, has postponed its entire fall sports season, including football, and apparently hopes to play games in the spring of 2021.  The Mountain West Conference has followed suit.  And yesterday there were news reports that the presidents of the colleges in the Big Ten Conference, the grandaddy of Midwestern college football conferences, had voted to cancel football and other autumn sports — although reports are conflicting, and some news websites are saying an official vote and announcement will be forthcoming today.

Of course, this possibility sends a collective shudder through the stalwart members of Buckeye Nation.  We love our football, and every year we look forward to seeing the Men of the Scarlet and Gray head out onto the gridiron.  Every year seems filled with special promise, and this year — with many Ohio State players returning from a team that came within a whisper (and a few dubious referee calls) of playing in the national championship game — was no exception.

But even a huge fan like me realizes that this is not an easy decision.  Many of the coaches and players are urging the league to go forward with games.  They want to play, and they note that football is a dangerous game even during normal times.  But, obviously, there is a unique health risk during a pandemic where disease transmission is so easy, and playing football — with players repeatedly in direct physical contact with each other, touching the same ball, huddling together, and breathing heavily, inches apart from each other, on the line of scrimmage — seems like the riskiest sport of all.  The colleges need to decide for themselves whether games can be played with a proper margin of safety, or whether the risk of players suffering permanent harm for the sake of playing games is just too great.

We’ll have to see, but I wouldn’t be surprised if we experience a football-free fall this year.  And I really couldn’t blame the colleges if that was their decision.

If so, it will give us another reason to remember 2020 with regret and disgust.

A Profession In Search Of Itself (Cont.)

I’ve been thinking about the journalism world since writing my earlier piece on what the move away from “objectivity” means for the world of the newsroom.  I think there are some other forces at play that are making the world of daily newspapers very difficult right now — some unavoidable, some self-inflicted.

Obviously, the main unavoidable problem is . . . speed.  People expect to get things faster and faster, and we’ve gotten so spoiled by instantaneous speed that we now groan at even a few seconds’ delay as our browser calls up a website.  The daily newspaper simply can’t compete with that — there are too many steps in the process.  By the time the newspaper lands on your doorstep, it will therefore likely be viewed as “old news” already.  It’s been all over the internet for hours — so who wants to sit down and read it again?  And how many people want to sit down and actually read something, as opposed to flipping through content on their cell phones as they head out for a jog or wait for an elevator?

Another unavoidable problem is cost. Newspapers of the past had large payrolls — from the reporters and columnists to the editors to the photographers to ad salesmen to the people who laid out the pages and the guys in the print shop running the presses.  How many labor-centric businesses are thriving these days?  And, as cost-cutting has occurred, newspapers cut into the muscle of daily journalism — the people who made newspapers different from and more reliable than bloggers, like experienced editors who would send stories back for additional fact-checking, or investigative reporters who might take weeks to produce a big, carefully constructed and rigorously tied down story.

But there are self-inflicted errors, too.  I think many newspapers have botched the inevitable move to digital delivery.  If you look at many news websites, they are a riotous mess from a presentation standpoint.  There’s no front page or above-the-fold organization that tells you what the lead story is.  Print newspapers may be old-fashioned, but there was a clear organization at work that was comforting, dependable, and helpful.  If you wanted to feel reasonably informed about what was going on in the world and your town, you read through the front page and the national, state, and local news sections, and then you could turn to the business section, or sports.  You knew that some intelligent person had made some thoughtful decisions about the relative importance of the stories.  Does anyone feel that way about most news websites on-line?  Hard news is mixed up with celebrity news and “sponsored content” that doesn’t look materially different from the “news.”  What do you need to read to truly feel informed?

And that brings me to a final point:  the trivialization of what is supposed to be news.  How many of the stories on a basic news website — say, msn.com — are what we think of as actual news reporting, and how much of what we see featured is content about celebrities being out with their boyfriends or clickbait articles about why a particular sports figure should be seen as a bad guy?  We’ve reached the point where somebody’s context-free cell phone video of a delivery driver who didn’t help an old guy who fell to the ground is featured as prominently — and perhaps more prominently — than an article about a foreign conflict.  And there are opinions, on stories large and small, everywhere you look.

In their quest to keep up with the times and be hip and edgy, newspapers have lost the sober, thoughtful perspective and reputation they once had, and have elevated the inconsequential.  It may appeal to some people, but it doesn’t appeal to people who remember newspapers as they once were.

Brainstarters And Timewasters

I’d guess that most of us have at least one app on our phone that we tap when we want to get our brains working in the morning, or to give us something to do to fill those random ten-minute snippets of the day that happen while, for example, we are waiting for our spouses to get ready to go out.

There are some crucial requirements for these brainstarters and  timewasters.  First, they need to be sufficiently interesting to actually get your brain working and allow you to fill the time you’re looking to occupy.  If the app is so boring that you lose interest and would rather sit there drumming your finders on the arm of your chair, it has failed in its essential function.  Second, at the same time the app can’t be so riveting that you can’t promptly stop when your spouse comes downstairs and is ready to go and would be offended if you gave her the one-minute sign and kept tapping your phone.  It therefore needs to be a game, or puzzle, or challenge that you can readily put down and pick up again at your leisure,  And third, if the app is going to have staying power on your phone, it’s got to be set up so that you’re always facing a new challenge.

Me, I’m a Spider Solitaire guy.  I picked up the free version from the app store, because I just wasn’t willing to pay for a timewaster, so before I can play a game I have to sit through the snippet of an ad for a new game, a new car, or something else — but reacting to that helps to get the brain started, too.  I come from a card-playing family, so a card game appealed to me.  There are thousands of different variations of how the cards can be dealt, so there’s no real worry about repetition.  It’s easy to put down mid-game and pick up later, and trying to figure out different approaches to how to win a game when the cards are really working against you keeps my interest.  And some appropriately triumphal music plays when you win a game, so you feel a certain sense of accomplishment with each little victory.

Brainstarters and timewasters aren’t the most important things in the world, of course, but they serve a crucial role in deflecting utter boredom and minutes that seem to stretch on for hours.  We’ll appreciate them even more if we ever get to the point of waiting at the gate for an overdue plane flight again.

What Is Missing?

This is an interesting and surprising photograph I took today at Sand Beach Park. It’s surprising because something is clearly missing in this picture of three little kids playing on the rocks at the corner of the beach.

Can you see what is absent?

It’s parents, of course. The parents were about 50 yards away — close enough to keep an eye on the kids and get over there quickly in case of a mishap, but otherwise content to let the kids explore on their own and have some fun. In the current time of helicopter parents, such long-distance, trusting parenting is as rare as a handshake — and as surprising.

Of course, what these parents were doing used to be the norm. My parents let us run free in our neighborhood — and take risks, and skin our knees, and have fun, and hopefully learn something from our experiences in the process. Shockingly, we survived . . . because kids actually are pretty savvy about risks and learn quickly. That’s what childhood used to be about.

Kudos to these parents! I bet these kids thought their trip to Sand Beach Park was great fun. — more fun than if Mom and Dad were holding them tightly by the hand and telling them to stay away from the rocks.

Corn Reborn

Last night we had fresh corn on the cob as part of our outdoor cookout — and once again I realized just how much I like to eat corn on the cob.

It’s an annual rite of self-discovery.  At some point every summer, corn on the cob is on the menu for a cookout, and I chomp through one ear and enjoy it so much I promptly have another.  (You can’t stop with just one ear of corn!)  And thereafter corn on the cob remains on the summer dinner menu for as long as it is available, and then it vanishes from the plate — forgotten until next summer comes, a new bumper crop of local corn waiting to be shucked hits the stores, and the cycle of food revelation happens all over again.

Corn on the cob is one of those seasonal foods that is so closely associated with its season they are almost synonymous.  You can’t really imagine eating ears of corn when it’s 10 degrees outside and there is snow up to your kneecaps.  Corn on the cob demands to be eaten outside on a summer’s day, so you don’t have to fret about the flying debris that is produced as you bite and bite and bite again, in staccato fashion, moving down the rows of corn like the ear is an old typewriter carriage, until your mouth is filled with juicy sweetness and your lips are slathered with butter.  It’s just a fun thing to eat, and you can’t help but feel a bit like a kid again when you’re doing it.

I like mine lightly buttered, with no salt.

 

Dinner Time

It’s a perfect night for a cookout in Stonington, with some lamb burgers, locally grown corn on the cob, and greens from our little garden.

The temperature is in the low 60’s up here. Appetite-stimulating weather, as they say up here.

Demise Of The Inner Long-Haired Kid

My last haircut was on February 24. The calendar tells me that means I’ve had a three-month, state-enforced hiatus from barbering. Even with three months of unimpeded hair growth, though, my hair now is still much, much shorter than it was in high school or college — which tells you something about how short I have been getting it cut these days, and how long it used to be during the ‘70s.

It makes me wonder about my teenage self, and how in the world that person could possibly have put up with long hair. I’ve discovered I really don’t like the feeling of hair brushing against my ears, or on the back of my neck. In fact, right now my whole head feels like I’m wearing a kind of clammy coonskin cap. It’s not a pleasant feeling — but I don’t remember having those kinds of reactions during my my shaggy early years. In fact, I’m pretty sure the opposite is true.

And now I think longer hair is a pain for other reasons. I’ve had to break out my comb again to part it and try to arrange it on my head. You can’t just towel it dry — and I’m not going to start using a blow dryer, either. This reality makes me think that I spent a lot more time in front of the mirror in those days, fiddling around with things I just don’t have the patience or inclination to do these days.  Back then I obviously had a lot more time on my hands than I do now. 

I get my hair cut on Tuesday, and I’m looking forward to it, masks and all. In fact, this whole experience makes me wonder how much my current self and my 20-year-old self would really have in common — beyond liking the same music and reruns of Star Trek.

Coronavirus Kids

One of our young friends shared some exciting news with us this week:  she and her husband are expecting their first child in December.  Their happy news makes you wonder whether we should be anticipating a “shutdown surge” of baby births in December, January, and February.

It’s folk wisdom that you look for a baby boom nine months after unusual circumstances, like enforced shutdowns. bring people together, but there apparently isn’t much evidence supporting that notion.  To be sure, there was the famous, extended post-World War II Baby Boom — Kish and I are living evidence of that — spurred by people who had served for years in the armed forces returning home, finding an America that had recovered from the Great Depression, and starting large families.  But most of the other instances where people have looked for evidence substantiating the folk wisdom — be they government shutdowns, or the great New York City blackout of 1965 — have found no great spike in baby births nine months later.

Experts are skeptical that we’re going to see a bunch of coronavirus kids, either.  They reason, quite logically, that an enforced shutdown isn’t going to cause couples living together to change their contraception practices, and in fact the birth rate might decline because the closure of bars, events, and other social gatherings means there won’t be the opportunity for casual encounters that might otherwise lead to births.  In reality, though, no one knows, because we’ve never had an enforced two-and-a-half-month stay-at-home period before.  It will be something to be mindful of nine months from now.  If we do see a surge of births, it will be a nice, upbeat coda to a very difficult time.

And speaking of the experts and difficult times, they’re confident we’ll see a surge in another kind of family-related activity as a result of the shutdown and stay-at-home decrees — divorces.

Reopening . . . One Step At A Time (Cont.)

A sense of palpable excitement swept through Ohio yesterday, like a fresh, warm May breeze carrying the scent of lilac trees and spring flowers.  Continuing with its gradual approach to reopening the state’s economy after a prolonged shutdown, the DeWine Administration announced the next step in the process:  allowing hair salons, nail salons, barber shops, and bars and restaurants to begin to service customers once more.

Some other businesses and offices opened this week, and retail stores and service businesses can reopen next Monday.  Under the Governor’s latest order, tonsorial parlors will be allowed to begin operating next Friday, May 15.  Restaurants and bars that have outdoor seating will be allowed to start serving patrons in their outdoor areas that same day, and indoor dining will begin again on May 21.  By May 21, the vast majority of the state’s businesses will have been permitted to reopen in some form or another, and the economy will lurch into gear once more.  Governor DeWine has concluded that, with the curve flattened, the economy simply can’t be shuttered for much longer without doing irreparable damages.

The Governor’s order indicates that the reopening won’t be an immediate return to the old, pre-coronavirus operations:  customers and stylists will be masked, for example, and restaurants will be trying to align tables and establish patron admission procedures to achieve social distancing.  There will probably be a run on plexiglass and plastic barriers, too.

Shaggy Ohioans who are heartily sick and tired of eating their own cooking, and who yearn for a return to more normal times, greeted this news with breathless excitement.  Soon we can get haircuts again!  And eat at a restaurant, too!  (Well, kind of.)

The news spread like wildfire on social media, where announcements of hair styling appointments became, for the moment, more popular than unsubtle political memes or cute videos of tumbling kittens.  Expect to see lots of Facebook posts with selfies of masked people getting their hair trimmed by other masked people, or people eating at some outdoor venue.  What used to be taken for granted is exciting news right now.