Tag: Top Ten

On former girlfriends and lovers

~ Jnana Hodson ~ Leave a comment

For me, this is ancient history, back before my second marriage more than two decades ago. Still, I get questioned about my deep past, and sometimes that has me looking at my previous romances and adventures collectively, rather than individually.

Here’s the latest take.

  1. None of them were like my mother, as far as I can see. There are good reasons for that.
  2. I was attracted to potential. As in “promise,” which was the original title of my novel now standing as Nearly Canaan.
  3. I put them up on pedestal. Up there, beside mine.
  4. Most were intelligent, though not always of a scholarly bent, as well as attractive.
  5. I am having trouble seeing deep mutual interests. Spirituality, especially along Quaker lines, classical music, and literature are central pursuits of mine, and being with someone who shared even one of those felt like Eureka. Contradancing worked as a connector for several of them. But for the rest?
  6. There are now questions of just exactly what I offered them. How often was I trying to be the white knight coming to their rescue?
  7. They were all younger than me. (Not that I’d advise that.)
  8. Were they all crazy, one way or another? That has been suggested. And, no, I don’t see myself as a victim.
  9. Except for a couple of them, I doubt they’ve ever visited this blog or read anything else I’ve written in the years since we were together.
  10. These things rarely end well. As in happily ever after.

ATVs all around

~ Jnana Hodson ~ Leave a comment

My introduction came back in the late ‘70s when our landlord acquired a three-wheeler to get him easily from one end of his orchards to the other, and even up to the hill ranch and back. It was certainly easier to navigate through the trees than a tractor was.

These days, though, I see them everywhere.

Even though they’re not my cup of tea, here are some reasons.

  1. The machines themselves: More properly known as all-terrain vehicles, these small open motorized conveyances are either buggies (“quads” or “four-wheelers”) or tricycles (“three-wheelers” or “trikes”) with big, low-pressure tires and a seat that is straddled by a driver who steers with handlebars. So they’re not quite a motorcycle, OK? They are intended for off-road use, but commonly show up running on highway shoulders.
  2. Popularity: Honda introduced the three-wheeler in 1970, followed by the four-wheeler from Suzuki in 1982. They originally appealed to hunters and then sporting trail riders.  Yamaha entered the market in 1987 with the Banshee, which added sand dune riders as fans. By the early 1990s, ATVs had also become a part of the American workplace.
  3. Pure fun: There’s a good reason for the big club down in Dennysville, as well as the recreational riders at the trailhead in Machias during their summer vacations. The activity is seen as a major tourism opportunity. You can zip along and bounce, feeling free. I think of them as a kind of three-season snowmobile.
  4. Ease of getting around: On the Passamaquoddy reservation just to our north, they’re a common way to get from one part of the village to another, no matter the rider’s age. Here in town, they’re still pretty much banned, with some folks complaining of the noise or potential trespassing. The controversy is a hot topic in many localities.
  5. Regulations: Few states require a license to operate an ATV. In Maine, where I live, there is an annual registration fee for an ATV. In addition, no one under age 10 is permitted to operate an ATM, and youths 10 to 16 are required to have completed a safety course and be accompanied by an adult. The rules don’t apply to land where the operator lives or on land owned by the operator’s parent or guardian.
  6. As for kids: Youths can drive them, although children under age 12 are advised not to ride machines having more than 90 cc engines or, under stricter guidelines, no one under 16 should be driving, period. In practice, though, parents do send the kids to the grocery and hear no complaints. In addition, smaller models designed for young riders are available. Engine limiters are among the safety features. Still, an estimated 22 percent of the deaths involved children under 16, as well 26 percent of the reported emergency room injuries.
  7. Safety: From the beginning, deaths and serious injuries occurred, most of them blamed on reckless operation and failure to wear safety gear such as helmets and goggles. Tipping and rollovers accounted for a majority of the accidents. In 1987 a moratorium on the production of three-wheelers went into effect, shifting the market entirely to four-wheelers. In 2021, there were 293 deaths on public roads – 59 of them riders age 29 or less. Texas, West Virginia, and Pennsylvania have the highest fatality rates, followed by Kentucky and California.
  8. Environmental impacts: They’re largely negative. Off-road use contributes to soil erosion, damages vegetation, and disturbs wildlife habitats. All uses increase noise pollution, greenhouse gas emissions, and air pollutants. On the other hand, they’re not as bad as a pickup.
  9. Cost: Roughly $4,000 to $12,000 for a new one, though customization can really up the total.
  10. Annual sales: North America recorded $2.2 billion in sales in 2022, nearly two-thirds of the global market, and it’s growing.

Domestic pestilences

~ Jnana Hodson ~ 4 Comments

Let’s go alphabetically. Shudder or cringe as you will.

  1. Ants.
  2. Cockroaches.
  3. Deer, where I live. Doesn’t mean we don’t enjoy viewing them, but we know how much they devour. Even the flowers.
  4. Fruit flies.
  5. Houseflies. Even more than mosquitoes.
  6. Maggots.
  7. Mice.
  8. Rats.
  9. Spiders.
  10. Squirrels. And chipmunks. They may be cute, but when they get in the walls, watch out.

What are we overlooking?

The Appalachian Trail is the grandaddy of a hiking marathon

~ Jnana Hodson ~ Leave a comment

Other parts of the world have long had their pilgrimages, but in the United States, when it comes to doing that on foot rather than by car, I’d say the Appalachian Trail tops the list.

The public pathway was conceived in 1921, built by private citizens, and competed in 1937. It officially became the Appalachian National Scenic Trail in 1968.

Here are some other perspectives.

  1. Length: Almost 2,200 miles involving 14 states from Georgia to Maine. Parts of the path get rerouted over time, a consequence of urban development pressures, loss of access across private lands, or other factors. It’s touted as the longest hiker-only trail in the world. Pack animals and wheeled things are shunted to other options.
  2. Heavenly heights: The trail ascends many of the tallest peaks in the Appalachian Mountain system, including the Great Smokeys of North Carolina and Tennessee, the Green Mountains of Vermont, the Presidentials of New Hampshire, and Maine’s Longfellows, many of them rising above the tree line. Most of the trail is forests or other wildlands, although some sections, especially in the valleys, pass farmlands, follow roadways, cross bridges, or run into small towns.
  3. Backpackers: Sections traversing roadways often have trailheads that give day hikers or overnighters access for short treks, the AT is celebrated for its backpackers, carrying all of their food, clothing, and gear and camping each night somewhere in the wilds. Some, like my Boy Scout troop when I was 12, venture out for a week or two, but the truly serious folks are the ones who trek from one end to the other in a single season. They’re known as thru-hikers, and those who return to hike the AT from the other direction the next year are considered a “yo-yo.” An estimated 3,000 people set out each year to hike the entire length, with a fourth of them actually succeeding. In 2017, 715 northbound and 133 southbound thru-hikers were recorded.
  4. Weather factors: Winter weather in effect shuts down many sections of the AT, at least for thru-hikers. Since the weather warms earlier in Georgia than in Maine is the reason most of the thru-hikers start at the south end and head north, hoping the snow and ice have melted from northern New England sections by the time they arrive that far. Some veterans argue that the trail is easier in that direction, too.
  5. Self-discovery: As one gets a distance away from a road or peopled location, the terrain becomes more pristine. There’s less litter and debris and less noise, too. The hiker encounters not only nature, on gorgeous days and raw ones, but also personal challenges and inner resources.
  6. Dedicated organization: The AT is maintained by 31 trail clubs of volunteers and other partnerships and managed jointly by the National Park Service, U.S. Forest Service, and nonprofit Appalachian Trail Conservancy.
  7. Angels along the way: Thru-hikers tell of remarkable locals who routinely come to the aid of the travelers. Need a bath or shower? A lift into town for groceries? A phone call, back in the day before cell phones? (Maybe today that’s a recharge?) They’re there.
  8. Memories: Many of the experiences are unforgettable. The scenery, especially. But there can also be downsides: Rattlesnakes, copperheads, bears, as well as ticks, mosquitoes, and black flies. Or some brutal weather, even in the height of summer.
  9. Mostly protected now: Passage of the National Trails System Act of 1968 allowed the Park System to purchase most of the lands still in private hands, assuring the AT of a permanent route.
  10. It’s not necessarily free: Portions of the trail require payment for backcountry permits or park entry as well as for shelters and campsites. Otherwise, access it free. Your gear, foodstuffs, and getting there are, of course, expenses to consider.  

 The AT is no longer the only long trail system in America, but it’s still the oldest. To achieve its length combined with Continental Divide Trail (2,700 to 3,150 miles, depending) and Pacific Crest Trail (2,653 miles) is considered the Triple Crown of Hiking in the United States.

What makes someone a ‘character’?

~ Jnana Hodson ~ Leave a comment

Often, it’s a flip comment and everybody nods as if knowing exactly what’s meant. Except, if you look closer, the actual definition gets fuzzy.

Calling someone a “character” falls in that vein.

The term itself reminds me of an older Quaker I knew. At the time, her mobility had been confined to a wheelchair for a decade or more. Members of the Quaker Meeting out in Ohio, where we both maintained our affiliation, always said, “Oh, that Anna! She’s a character!” But they would never tell me why.

Finally, when I had charge of her memorial service in New Jersey, I popped the question. And it was a rich experience.

Among the examples was from the days when she was still driving but relying on that wheelchair. She rolled up beside the passenger door, crawled into the seat, folded up the wheelchair and tossed it into the back, and then somersaulted into the driver’s seat. I can’t imagine, much less what was involved when she arrived.

What I did realize, on my drive back to New Hampshire, is that each of us has our first 40 years to get our act together and the next 40 to be a character.

So, back to matter at hand – sharpening our definition of a character.

Aided by responses from another circle of friends, here are ten things to consider.

A “character” is in at least several of these:

  1. True to self: Authentically themselves regardless of the opinions of others; comfortable in their own skin; possessing strong backbone.
  2. One of a kind: Standing a step apart from social norms; a nonconformist, unconventional. By definition, exceptional or original.
  3. Attuned to a lofty goal: Religion, art, social action, or so on.
  4. Faithful to moral values: It’s more than having character – integrity, honesty, loyalty, compassion, for instance – but of actually embodying them. This can manifest as courage, perseverance, and confidence to move through difficult situations.
  5. Eccentric: I’m guessing this goes beyond everyday preferences and habits of a mundane nature, like how we have tea or coffee. But it can mean something more than just one-of-a-kind. Maybe colorful? Quirky? A streak of ornery, in many cases, but not too much – like fresh ground pepper on a meal. Or even stubbornness.
  6. Seen in a positive light: Likeable, funny, interesting, amusing, a bit of a charmer, willing to do or say what we shy away from but would secretly consider. “I see it as a good thing … a positive thing.”
  7. Or in a negative sense: Nuts, weirdo, strange; annoying; rubs people the wrong way. “I hear it as snide, not meant to be flattering.” A slang thesaurus comes up with Soup Nazi and Ron Paul as synonyms. The matter of intonation does not show up in the definitions, but hearing a voice would certainly thicken the plot. (Did I put those two synonyms in the wrong spot? Some folks might see those individuals in a positive light.)
  8. Open to praise or ridicule: “They often have no idea they’re not conforming.”
  9. Willing to make self-sacrifices: Back to that lofty goal. Or at least not squander time and money on less worthy items.
  10. Sometimes even a big personality: In this case, being the center of attention, almost like they’re always performing. Well, an actor does play a character, but that’s just make-believe. This goes beyond that.

‘Big cities’ in my life

~ Jnana Hodson ~ Leave a comment

I’ve long been fascinated by major metropolises, or at least the concept of a downtown as a pulsing power center buzzing with fashionable activity. My hometown, while a thriving city at the time, never struck me as “big.” As for glitz? Forget it.

In the list I’ve assembled, each of the cities has at least one professional baseball team, and today also an NFL team, not that sports were a big factor for me. Great symphony orchestras and art museums, however, definitely were. And later, I came to see subway systems as another measure; the majority of the cities here have them.

All but one of these locations is somewhere I’ve been more than once, and we’re not even counting connecting flights at the airport. While I’ve resided inside only one of these hubs, I’ve lived within the gravitational orb of another seven.

That said, here goes, presented more or less in the order in which I experienced them.

  1. Cincinnati: I grew up about an hour away, and once I got my driver’s license, I got to know the place much better than just Crosley Field, riverboat rides, the zoo, or the observation deck atop the Carew Tower, destinations of family outings or school field trips. I’ll save the details for later.
  2. Chicago: The Loop, with its narrow canyons between skyscrapers, and the walkway along the Chicago River still embody the visceral excitement I identify as big city. An initial visit as a teen followed by visits to friends and lovers later culminated when I worked for the media syndicate of the Chicago Tribune and was whisked up high in its tower overlooking Lake Michigan.
  3. New York: I didn’t get to the Big Apple until the summer between my junior and senior year of college. I was living in a boarding house and working an internship about four hours Upstate, but after graduation I returned and had housemates and friends from The City. Visiting the place with them was delightful. Later, living in the ashram about two hours away or in Baltimore to the south, I got in for even more exposure.
  4. Seattle: During my four years in the desert of Washington state, an escape to “the wet side” of the Cascade mountains was a regular part of our existence. I’m not sure how much I’d recognize the place now, but we did have friends who’d put us up. Even then, people were worried the city would lose its charm, the way San Francisco had.
  5. San Francisco: In my one visit, there was still some charm left. Especially the affordable ethnic restaurants out in the neighborhood where we were staying, with our sleeping bags on the floor. The hippies had long gone to greener pastures, but City Lights bookstore was still packed.
  6. Cleveland: Living about two hours away, I got to know the city on Lake Erie mostly as University Circle, with its extraordinary art museum (free admission), famed concert hall, genealogical library, and Quaker Meeting. The downtown still hadn’t rebounded. I’ll also include the famed orchestra’s summer home south of town as part of the experience.
  7. Pittsburgh: Two hours in the other direction, we spent more time in Squirrel Hill and the university neighborhood than downtown. The steel mills were long gone, but major corporate headquarters still flavored the core, much more than they did Cleveland.
  8. Baltimore: Oh, how I loved the place. My first apartment was the top floor of a rowhouse within walking distance of symphony hall. The gentrified neighborhood was something like Boston’s Beacon Hill but pre-Civil War era rather than Colonial. Even when I relocated to a suburb, I spent a lot of time in Roland Park and a few other neighborhoods. The Inner Harbor was always a delight.
  9. Washington: Living about an hour to the north in my Baltimore sojourn meant I could head down easily, usually to visit friends in the Maryland suburbs. What surprises me on reflection is how little I made of the opportunity to do more. Yes, I did use the National Archive and Library of Congress a few times for genealogical research, and visited the imposing National Gallery and the Phillips more collegial collection, but I never got to the Smithsonian or White House tour or any of the monuments, really. Besides, there was nothing much of a downtown – charming Georgetown seemed to fill that function.
  10. Boston: It took me a while to warm up to Boston, but once I was living an hour to the north, my attitude changed. For more than 30 years, then, I turned to its museums, theaters, concert venues, bookstores, record stores, restaurants, and more, even contradancing two or so times a week, and that was before having a girlfriend or two in the suburbs or joining a suburb community choir just beyond Cambridge. In the end, though, I was still an outsider.

I realize how much the experience of most of these places is based on walking. Pedestrian-friendly was a key element separating them from others.

Honorable mentions: Worcester, Saint Louis, Toronto, Philadelphia, Montreal, Detroit, Providence.

 

 

Ever really look at those playing cards?

~ Jnana Hodson ~ Leave a comment

Yup, there are 52 in a deck, plus one to six Jokers, at least if you’re looking at what’s considered a standard commercial deck. There are, however, other traditional, and often older, suites to consider. Today we’ll put those off for another time and stick to the French-suited cards that are almost universally found in English-speaking countries. Got that?

To continue:

  1. The deck has four suits (clubs, diamonds, spades, and hearts) that come in 13 ranks, starting with the ten numeral or pip cards – if you’re wondering why there’s no “1,” it’s actually the Ace, despite its usual power. And then there are the three ranks of royalty, the court or face cards we know as Jack, Queen, King.
  2. Each numeral card displays the appropriate number of pips (the suit images) as well as the numeral itself.
  3. Early cards were single-headed, or single-ended, but that changed around 1860, when the double-headed versions appeared. These could be read without having to turn them to an up-position. Corner indices were added around 1880.
  4. The Jack of spades and the Jack of hearts appear in profile and are thus known as “one-eyed” Jacks. Likewise, the King of diamonds is depicted with one eye. The rest of the royals are shown full-face or oblique.
  5. Suicide kings appear in hearts, where he usually has a sword behind his head, as if stabbing himself, and in diamonds, where he has an ax pointed blade-down toward him. Adding to the nickname is the blood-red color on the card.
  6. The Queen of spades, holding a scepter, is also known as the black lady or bedpost Queen. She’s the only Queen facing left.
  7. The Ace of spades is sometimes called the death card. Those printed or sold in England from the reign of James I until 1960 carried an indication of the printer and that an excise tax on the deck had been paid.
  8. The 52 cards are said to represent the 52 weeks of the year, with 13 cards for each season or the 13 lunar cycles of the year.
  9. Possibly originating in China or India or Persia, the cards arrived in Europe from Egypt in the 1370s, perhaps in the hands of Crusaders. The first cards were hand-printed, limiting them to the wealthy classes. That changed with the arrival of the printing press at the end of the 15th century.
  10. Originally, the suit symbols were taken from everyday objects, which may have had any symbolic meaning: flowers, animals, birds, shields, crowns, pennies, rings, even pomegranates. I rather like the possibilities there, “King of bears” or “Queen of bananas.”

Things that define a viable downtown

~ Jnana Hodson ~ Leave a comment

No matter how large or small a community, there’s something about having a place we know as downtown that makes a difference. It’s like a center of gravity.

Forget the big banks, jewelry stores, or medical offices that are empty at night.

Here are some elements to consider.

  1. Functioning post office. Once it moves to the outskirts, it’s curtains for many towns. Or at least did, back before email and Amazon. Well, we still need somewhere to send off those return items or to get our passports.
  2. A brewpub or microbrewery. Think about it. A social place to gather casually that doesn’t feel like a stinky dark bar.   
  3. A decent diner or coffee house. Ditto.
  4. Distinctive restaurant. Doesn’t have to be fancy but definitely worthy of a dinner date. Ethnic certainly fits here.   
  5. Hardware store, pharmacy, and grocery. Meet real-life needs.
  6. Residents: They’re what keeps the place from becoming a desert at night.  
  7. Pedestrian friendly. Keep parking at the fringe, please, or in some kind of balance.   
  8. Library. It’s not all about books.
  9. Arts opportunities. Galleries, theaters, concert venues all add vitality.
  10. Waterfront. Once scorned and polluted, a cleaned-up stream or coastline is a mesmerizing attraction. We can sit and watch the motion for hours and then feel rested.

A nod to famous Maine artists, most of them ‘summer people’

~ Jnana Hodson ~ 2 Comments

The Pine Tree State has long inspired painters and other visual artists, most of them attracted from elsewhere.

Here’s a sampling:

  1. Marsden Hartley, an American Modernist master born in Lewiston and died in Ellsworth. What the desert was for Georgia O’Keeffe, Maine was for Hartley.
  2. Neil Welliver, a Pennsylvanian who moved permanently to Lincolnville. Renowned for his large, square interior Maine nature studies – and a life of controversy and tragedy.
  3. Three generations of Wyeths – N.C., Andy, and Jamie. The most famous, even as summer residents.
  4. Winslow Homer and Edward Hopper. Led a parade of summer people who made the state’s rugged surf iconic.
  5. Alex Katz, a New Yorker who forged a strong Maine connection from 1954 on in Lincolnville. Best known as a precursor to Pop art.
  6. Frederic Church and Thomas Cole of the Hudson Valley School. Made their way to the Pine Tree State, too.
  7. As a child, sculptor Louise Nevelson came from Russia to Rockland. As an adult, she relocated to New York City, something of a reversal of most artists.
  8. Rockwell Kent. Spent five prolific summers on Monhegan Island.
  9. Charles Herbert Woodbury. Founded the Ogunquit colony.
  10. Lithuanian-born William Zorach. His family bought a farm on Georgetown Island in 1923 where they lived, worked, and entertained guests, juggling between New York City. Daughter Dahlov Ipcar also became a noted artist.

 

Lobster boats prep for a fast racing season start

~ Jnana Hodson ~ Leave a comment

Informal racing out on the open waters was already a longstanding tradition when the Maine Lobster Boat Racing Association formed and launched its first races in 1964.

Fishing is a dangerous occupation, one luring a gnarly but dedicated gang into its ranks. It’s said they have salt water in their veins, or as I’ve heard them say of themselves, they’re either crazy or dumb – or both.

It should be no surprise, then, that here in Maine, lobstermen come together on summer weekends to race their boats. They have a pick of at least one every weekend.

Yup, race. Lobster boats don’t exactly look sleek or graceful – they’re built to work in all kinds of weather and take a beating. But they also have powerful engines. I had no idea just how powerful.

Besides, guys being guys, lobstermen have long boasted about their beloved boats – many are named after sweethearts and children, after all. Comparing theirs against their peers’ meant putting their words to the test.

All of that has led to a circuit of races starting in Boothbay and ending in Portland, with ten or so other sites along the way.

With that in mind, here are ten more bits to consider.

  1. Each race is different. Some draw more than 100 boats. The lengths of the races vary by location. Some routes are less than one mile, while others stretch over a few miles. Some courses are straight, while others are loops.
  2. Depending on the location, the winning speeds vary. The fastest boats typically reach 50 to 60 miles an hour, though a record 68.3 mph was recorded in 2022.
  3. The emphasis is on regular lobstermen, not professional racers, and additional events may be scheduled after the summer’s taken off. While prizes are awarded at the end of the season, the racers participate mostly for the thrill and its bragging rights.
  4. Typically, the races are divided into categories by boat type. For example, there may be separate runs for workboats under 24 feet length, gas-powered workboats of more than 24 feet, and diesel-powered workboats of more than 24 feet. There’s even a Class O category for non-working boats, any length, any horsepower – shall we guess these are out-and-out racers?
  5. In 2022, the entries ranged from 30-horsepower outboards to a 1,400-horsepower, 44-foot-long vessel named Bounty Hunter IV.
  6. For the races, they’re stripped of their gear and any other extraneous weight, or so I’m told.
  7. As for boat names? Maria’s Nightmare II and Wild Wild West give you an idea.
  8. While many spectators watch from the shoreline, others head out on the water to get close to the action. Some ferries and boats offer race day trips.
  9. The Moosabec Reach annual races are the closest event to me – and the only one in Washington County. The one-mile course runs between Jonesport and Beals Island, ending just before the bridge that connects Jonesport to the island. The race used to include going under the bridge, but that stopped after lobstermen crashed while trying to navigate under the bridge and around other boats.
  10. Since the Maine lobster boat races are in the summertime, it’s best to bring sunscreen. For distant viewing, binoculars are recommended. Other handy items to pack include refreshments and a sweatshirt in case there’s a cool ocean breeze.