SOUTHWEST
If God really, truly loved us, we humans would have tentacles instead of arms and legs. You see, joints, particularly knee joints, are a bad idea. You never hear of an octopus getting arthritis.
Arthritis is rarely convenient, and my introduction came at a particularly inconvenient time. Washington DC does not do winter particularly well. It is far enough south that it generally cannot afford snow, but must make do with pewter gray skies and a cold clammy drizzle. We had planned to fly to Arizona over the new year and do some hiking in the various national parks and forests and enjoy the lazuli blue of the sky, jade green of conifers and cacti and salmon pink of the cliffs; everything in short supply in DC.
A week before the flight, I found myself lurching around like the Frankenstein Monster in the original 1935 movie. My left knee refused to work.
"Looks like a case of arthritis". said my orthopedist.
"What should we do?" I said, playing my role.
"Just hop on the table there, and we'll remove some fluid!" He said jovially as he produced a sort of reverse hypodermic about the size of a bicycle pump. "You'll probably notice some initial discomfort."
Now, neighbors, for those of you who haven't dealt with medical practitioners recently, the words "pain" and/or "hurt" are no longer in their vocabulary. They have been replaced with "a slight prick" or "some pressure", or "some initial discomfort".
As the Irish Republican Army has the nasty habit of "knee capping" (firing a 9mm pistol bullet into the knee cap of suspected traitors) I suspected that even though the needle wasn't quite 9mm there would be "some initial discomfort". I was not disappointed.
"My, that filled the whole syringe!" The doctor said admiringly, holding up the syringe and what looked like a generous half pint of madeira wine. "Let's do the back of the knee and see what we get!" he said enthusiastically. (Why stop when you're having fun?) The back of the knee yield about a champaign flute of the same color liquid.
"Looks like we got it all. You can stand up now." He said, pleased.
I could walk! I could bend the knee!" If the doctor had a robe and beard, I would have dropped to my knees and worshipped him! That was a good trick! I could see why primitive peoples revered their shamans and witch doctors. Next to being raised from the dead, or having one's sight restored, recovering the ability to walk, has to elicit the most sincere "Thanks, doc!"
Fortunately, I still have a slight limp. I say "fortunately" as my wife, Joan had secured us economical tickets on Southwest Air.
One way Southwest economizes is that there is open seating. That is, Southwest sells the exact number of seats in its airplane, divides the passengers into teams of 30 each and leaves the actual fighting for those seats to the individual passengers. In addition to saving money, it undoubtably provides some amusement to the flight crew as they watch a sort of combination of the Le Mans Start and the Running of the Bulls at Pamplona among the passengers. You can sit anywhere you like as long as you are fast and/or strong.
Southwest makes some concession to recent advances in civilization in that the aged and the infirm are given a sporting head start on the ravening mob. Therefore, my dignified limp was money in the bank and we went to the head of the line.
We had been warned about the cuisine on Southwest--or rather the lack of it, so we had brought a sack of sandwiches on board. If you forget this precaution, you are faced with the famous peanuts of Southwest and the dread snackpak. The snackpak is a kind of battle ration issued to the customers. It is a sort of "Saturday Night Live" parody of healthy food. The pak contains small tubs of processed cheese which you are to gouge out of their containers with white flour bread sticks, there is a beef jerky sausage whose list of contents seem to include most of the Periodic Table of Elements. There is also a small candy bar (but Copenhagen apparently doesn't put chewing tobacco in small enough cans to take advantage of the potential Southwest market.)
The Southwest flight crew was famously laid back. It is apparently company policy that the crew not take itself too seriously, but rather extend its interest to the passenger. They were funny, friendly and unfailingly helpful. It is not peanuts alone that make Southwest one of the few profitable airlines.
The flight to Phoenix was blessedly uneventful. Due to the events of 9/11, the exuberant pilots of Southwest are no longer allowed to comment on the landing by shouting such things as "PRAISE THE LORD! WE CHEATED DEATH AGAIN!" This time our pilot merely said "Well, we're here. I guess that what everybody wanted!"
Complaining about the similarity of airports is sort of a journalist's stock in trade, but while there is a generic resemblance in airports, they are different as fingerprints or snowflakes. The Phoenix Sky Harbor has a pleasant Southwestern theme that isn't overdone, but would not be confused with Chicago's O'Hare.
We picked up our rental car and headed north toward canyons, conifers, snow, and, hopefully, sunshine.
The really neat thing about Arizona is that it is a sort of fail-safe vacation. It is a two story state, the first story being the drier, sunny, desert part and the other story above the Mogollon rim, the higher, cooler, damper more forested part. So if the weather doesn't suit you can simple change to a different channel by climbing or descending the Mogollon stairs.
Not so if you go to Maine in the summer and notice that it is rainy and overcast. Your downeast innkeeper might suggest that you mosey over to Nova Scotia and sample the Canadian rain and overcast as the weather menu is going to be pretty much "it" in any direction for 400 miles.
It is true that you can experience sharply different vegetation zones in other Western states with changes in elevation as in the Rockies or Sierra Nevada or by rain shadow effect in the Pacific Northwest where mountain ranges separate majestic Doug Firs from the world's greatest collection of monotonous sage brush and greasewood in the Great Basin desert.
Ah, but Arizona! where the Sonoran, that most luxuriant of the world's deserts butt up against the largest ponderosa pine forest in the world, allows for a truly magical change in venue!
The weather report for above the Rim was not good. Overcast and snow flurries. Not to mind. We would push on to the Canyon. It would change for the better. Due to Arizona's aridity, not even God can afford the energy debt required to sustain days of overcast miserable weather.
We uncreatively shot straight up four lane Rt 17 in the all-American desire to get there quickest. We stopped off in Flagstaff for dinner with Jim Tuck, one of our must favorite NPS folk.
Who is Jim Tuck? Well, Tuck is one of those behind-the scenes, unsung heros of the National Park Service. His job description is to make dreams come true.
Dreams come true? Well, yes. You will remember that way back in the 1970's, an irritable crank of an NPS seasonal by the name of Edward Abbey wrote a "seminal" tirade called "Desert Solitaire" in which he expressed the heretical view that motorized vehicles should be kept out of the National Parks. This idea was heretical in that it contravened NPS dogma that the automobile was a sacred part of the park ecosystem and not to be messed with. This dogma had received the imprimatur and Nihil obstat of National Park clergy from John Muir (yes, THAT John Muir) through Steve Mather, Horace Albright, Conrad Wirth, George Hartzog and so on.
The idea of the automobile as the prime mover of park visitation led to the creation of several automobile oriented parks; Shenandoah and Blue Ridge Parkway ( Henry Ford donated $20,000 to the establishment of SHEN)
However, by and by, auto saturation in a finite area became somewhat obvious; first to environmentalists, purists, and aesthetes, then to bureaucrats and finally, to politicians. Abbey was not the first to advocate a motor free park, but as the academicians say, he was the first to publish. That is, his "Desert Solitaire" essay was an idea who's time was shortly to come.
Abbey's plan for a vehicle free park was crass and elitist; if you were some kind of cripple or had made the mistake of growing old, was that too damn bad, no park for you unless you could walk or crawl.
Abbey was a curmudgeonly Johnny Appleseed of environmental ideas. He tossed them out haphazardly as he wrote his way through his tumultuous life. It would be up to others to see which seeds were viable and could be nurtured.
An automobile free park was one of those viable seeds.
It would be up to the unsung heros of the NPS to bring this seed to fruition. There would have to be some compromises. Americans were not about to walk or crawl to the prominent features of a park. Some sort of alternative transport would have to be provided.
Yosemite was first with its valley shuttle of double decker elephant trains, Denali came along with a fleet of school buses that traveled the somewhat primitive park road, dropping off and picking up park patrons as they hiked and viewed different areas in a timely, safe, and efficient manner. Later, Grand Canyon was charged with the herculean task of (A) unsnarling the summer gridlock on the South Rim of Grand Canyon, and (B) providing a demonstration of low polluting or even non-polluting public transportation. Perhaps A and B could be combined into one solution.
Jim Tuck did not come up the idea of a gridlock free, smog free South Rim, but he was given the assignment of making the dream come true. This is the difficult part. Folks like Abbey and others can send their ideas off to their publishers, take another pull on the can of Coors and move on to something else.
Tuck and others like him are faced with the nuts and bolts of making the dream happen. This means dreary hours of research into arcane subjects that may not entirely grip your interest; long, boring meetings with long, boring people; struggles with people who think their particular ox is being gored--or ignored. and contracts longer and more complicated than the Old Testament. There were embarrassing failures (The Hope of the Future, the hydrogen fuel cell powered bus, trucked to the South Rim and fired up before expectant press and dignitaries, rolled ten feet and stopped, like Grandfather's clock, never to go again). There were Cultural relations as in getting somewhat xenophobic bus drivers to understand there are reasons that French and Germans are not born speaking English.
However, propane powered buses became to roam the West rim drive and the summer gridlock was broken.
And Tuck's reward? Mainly the sense of a job well down. The credit of course must be shared. Probably Abbey will get the mountain lion's share for writing the book. Tuck should at least get a bench by one of the bus stops with a small brass plaque commemorating him as one of the behind the scenes folk that make the NPS work. The next day resembled scenes from Napoleon's retreat from Moscow with relentless gray skies pushing freezing rain and snow flurries on us as we crossed the barren steppe to Grand Canyon.
"Snow always enhances the Canyon" I said encouragingly. "It adds another color and dimension to the rock formations". Joan was not convinced. Joan is not a snow person.
We arrived at the Canyon in a total white out. You had to accept the Park Services word that God had not repossessed the Canyon and hauled it away; that beyond the guard rail at Bright Angel Lodge, there was really something out there.
"My, isn't this interesting!" I said "It's a rare day at the Canyon when you can't see anything!" I could see that Joan didn't regard that as an achievement.
We had both seen the canyon many times before in different seasons, but even I had to admit it was frustrating to have to step into the gift shop to check the post cards and refresh our memories on what was out there.
The next day the snow ended as I had predicted. Unfortunately, it was replaced by an ice fog with no sunny intermission.
"I thought we came for the sun" Joan said reproachfully. I felt that the NPS could pull the Canyon out of a hat, sooner or later so if in doubt, ask a ranger.
Grand Canyon no longer has a "visitor center" it is now called an "Information Plaza" and is in an entirely new building out near Mather Point. The Information Plaza is a vast, echoing barn like structure and the park service people seemed glad to have some company. (One could visualize summer's vast swarm of European and Australian backpackers and camera dragging Japanese.)
The weather prediction was posted and it was not encouraging. Apparently God had found enough money to put on a demonstration storm over the Colorado Plateau that would leave no doubt about who was Boss.
It was time to play the Arizona two climate card and head south for the sun.
LOST PARK
A little ways south of Flagstaff on Route 17, I noticed a patch of lazuli blue widening in a dirty cotton sky. Taking this cue, we detoured off on slow, scenic Alternate 89 that would take us down to the storied red rocks of Oak Creek Canyon,
The Red Rocks are not entirely red, and this is their power. Depending on the strata, they are red, white, and yellow with all the subtle gradients in between. Subtle contrast is what you want in great art and subtle contrast is what you get in the Oak Creek Canyon Country.
Oak Creek Canyon is the bread & butter of ARIZONA HIGHWAYS magazine. They rarely let an issue go to press without a picture of Oak Creek and its canyons doing something; water spackling abstemiously over desert pink sandstone in the summer or a tower of Kaibab limestone jauntily sporting a snow beret in January.
The Oak Creek Red Rocks country is some of the most heart breakingly lovely country in the United States. The very beauty of the area led to a poignantly sad minor incident in the relationship between America and the old Soviet Union. At the height of the Cold War, the censors of the Soviet Union decided that the editors of ARIZONA HIGHWAYS were faking the photographs; that the Arizona sky could not be that blue nor the rocks and scenery be that fantastic, therefore they forbade ARIZONA HIGHWAYS in the Soviet Union. (As is always the case in censorship, one of America's most gentle and harmless magazines became a black market item--and powerful propaganda.)
Part of the charm of the Oak Creek country is the human dimension of the landscape. Unlike the Grand Canyon, the formations are usually hundreds of feet high rather than thousands, (Humans don't feel insignificant for any length of time, makes us uneasy.) There is considerably more vegetation than in Grand Canyon and this tends to reassure us.
Some four million people visit the Oak Creek-Sedona area every year and many of them have wondered why it is not a national park. Well now, neighbors, that is an interesting question: Why not?
You see, the Red Canyons are one of America's lost parks. That is, areas of great scenic, scientific, or historical value that have been studied for inclusion in the national park system but have lost out, for one reason or another. There are around 200 of these areas that have either been considered or are still being considered.
Among some of the more famous "lost" national parks and historic sites are Kauai National Park in Hawaii, Sawtooth Range National Park in Idaho, Big Sur National Park in California, and Georgia O'Keefe National Historic Site in New Mexico.
How does an area get to be a unit of the national park system, you ask?
Well, we'll have to go back to basics, neighbors. The process somewhat resembles that "How a bill becomes a law" chapter that you studied in your civics course way back in middle school. Your teacher went through all the steps, but naturally she left out the important parts such as bribes, threats or "contributions" offered to congressmen by ENRON type corporation or other entities to influence the outcome, as she didn't want to rock the boat.
Therefore, "How an area becomes a unit of the national park system" does sort of resemble a bill becoming a law, including the under the table deals.
We shall start with the way it is supposed to be.
The national parks and the National Park Service are quite popular with the American public. Park system status confers a sort of CONSUMER REPORT best buy seal of approval for the touring American ("It must be important or the Federal Government wouldn't have it, Martha!" The Arrowhead sign is in effect, a dollar sign to the community.
Almost every state and county in the union has a pile of unminable, unfarmable, ungrazable rocks that they would like declared a national monument, or failing that, the home of an unindicted favorite son politician they would like turned into a national historic site. So, to prevent Lake Woebegone from becoming a national park or the home of Snidely B. Culpable from becoming a national historic site, the National Park Service has established a set of criteria for units of the system.
To be considered, a proposed unit must be of national significance whose acquisition is both suitable and feasible.
To be considered nationally significant, a proposed unit must meet ALL of the four requirements:
1. It is an outstanding example of a particular type of resource
2. It possesses exceptional value or quality in illustrating or interpreting that natural or cultural themes of our Nation's heritage.
3. It offers superlative opportunities for recreation, for public use and enjoyment, or for scientific study.
4. It retains a high degree of integrity as a true, accurate, and relatively unspoiled example of the resource. (Farewell, Shenandoah! Last ranger out please turn off the lights!)
In addition even if the area meets the above four reuqirements, it must be suitable and feasible. ³Suitable² requires that the proposed unit must (a) represent a natural or cultural theme or type of recreational resource that is not already adequately represented in the national park system or (b) is not comparably represented and protected for public enjoyment by another land management entity (Naturally, the Forest Service and the Bureau of Land Management pounced on (b) like tort claim lawyers; it's always fun to hoist a rival bureaucracy with their own petard! ed.)
³Feasible² means that the area must be available at reasonable cost and be capable of development and administration at reasonable cost. For example, we can acquire George Washington National Historic Site when we pry it from the cold, dead fingers of the Mount Vernon Ladies Association who have owned it longer than George did. On the other hand, we could have the proposed Attu Island Battlefield National Historic Site for free, but the administrative and developmental costs for an island at the end of the Aleutian chain would be incredible (staffing would require characters even more colorful than Edward Abbey.)
Now that our park acquisition rules are in place, an independent, non governmental group of concerned citizens gets together to make their favorite rock pile, swamp, or historic home a unit of the national park system. They establish a fund, write letters, give tours, stroke the media and most importantly, buttonhole their congressional representative. The Congressman approaches the National Park Service and asks for our opinion. (Not too long ago, the NPS was required by law to come up with a yearly wish list for new units--it was realized that this only encouraged ravening environmentalists and the practice was dropped) If the park proposal is not too far off the wall-- or if the congressman is powerful, the NPS will do a study to see if the area meets the criteria and suitability/feasibility and then will submit the study to congress for further action.
Is this the way it always works?
Well no, not exactly. Recently Congress informed the NPS that it was getting a new national historic site in the form of Ronald Reagan Boyhood Home National Historic Site in Dixon, Illinois. The NPS said that a study had not been done. Congress was aghast: " STUDY? WE DON' NEED NO STEENKIN' STUDY!" Congress said that the boyhood home, a decent lower middle class frame house, would be purchased for a cool million dollars and that the NPS was to saddle up and shut up.
In the case of the proposed Red Canyons Park, the study was actually done. Back in the 1960's and '70's a group of local Arizona enthusiasts, the Sierra Club, the National Parks and Conservation Association and other environmental organizations got up a sufficient head of steam to get the NPS to do a study of the area in 1979.
The official title of the study was "Secret Mountain/Red Canyons" as there are a lot of other red canyons in the West. (Secret Mountain is a huge mesa in the heart of the proposed park from which many of the red canyons radiate)
The report described the terrain of the Secret Mountain-Red Canyon country with a kind of glowing appreciation that one seldom finds in a government report. As is the usual format, several alternatives were proposed, the first being that the 74,000 acre study section of the Mogollon Rim would remain in the hands of the US Forest Service and be managed under the Multiple Use concept and the thousand acres of private lands within the study area would presumably be developed for commercial purposes.
Alternative two suggested that the NPS would be given around 50,000 acres of the 74,000 acre to be managed in accordance with NPS policy. The NPS would acquire only those private lands that were incompatible with the unit purpose. Grazing and livestock raising, which are traditional uses (whose tradition? ed) would be continued.
Alternative three provided the NPS with a more princely 65,000 acres including acreage and a road on the Coconino plateau along the Mogollon Rim, giving overviews of the canyons.
Unfortunately, there were two, maybe three major holes in the Secret Mountain National Park proposal. You will remember that a proposed area had to be or contain something unique. The Secret Mountain area has roughly the same geology and vegetation as the Grand Canyon, only it is arranged in a more human and thus somewhat more appealing fashion, but "appealing" doesn't cut it. The report writers hopefully included the fact that area was home to excellent stands of the smooth bark Arizona Cypress (Cypressus glabra) which occurs only in an 80 mile stretch. However, quite a bit of that 80 miles is outside the proposed park, the cypress is not endangered, nor is anything else in study area.
Another major hole is that catch 22 suitability clause that asks if another governmental agency can't do the preserving. Naturally, the Forest Service is Smokey at the rat hole with a Multiple Use Plan that includes recreation.
Now neighbors,"Multiple Use" can be compared to claiming that you can drink a quart of whiskey, play video games, talk on a cell phone and drive the school bus all at the same time, with no ill effects, and anybody that claims you can't is a goddamm communist.
Under Multiple Use, you can do some loggin', some grazin' and even some minin', and of course go huntin', fishin', off-roadin' and "g" droppin' all over the place like a true Westerner. Can anything be more reasonable? Well yes. A hard nosed business audit would indicate that the logging, mining, and grazing industries are viable on public land only with extensive subsidies (welfare) paid primarily by non-Westerners to support marginal industries and mitigate the resulting environmental disasters. In addition, public lands extractive industries provide only around 4% of the yearly national production of timber, meat and fiber, and minerals.
So do the ordinary Western folks who don't own a ranch, logging company or a mine or even work for one, rebel at this welfare subsidy use of their tax dollars?
Well, no. Westerners of modest means are often enthusiastic supporters of the upper dog. Years ago, your kindly editor recalls stopping in for coffee at a little cafe in Baker, Nevada. The fight over the proposed Big Basin National Park was raging. Proponents wanted to carve a modest national park, with all it's environmental restrictions, out of Humboldt National Forest.
I asked the waitress, a nice lady of ample middle years, what she thought of the controversy.
A look of concern crossed her care worn face. "What will become of our million dollar ranches?" she said.
That was not the answer I expected. Clearly the lady was not into irony. That was her straight answer. (There was the possibility she was one of those eccentric millionaires you hear about who take jobs as cab drivers or bartenders to keep in touch with the real people, but I discounted that)
I suggested that if the national park idea went though, there would be more people stopping at the little cafe, indeed more business than the occasional ranch hand could provide.
She was adamant. "You just can't take away people's property. You can't take away their livelihood."
The lady was not alone. Alexis de Toqueville, that observant French tourist of the 19th century noted:
³In no country of the world is the love of property more active and more anxious than in the United States, nowhere does the majority display less inclination for those principles which threaten to alter, in whatever manner, the laws of property"
There was no point in discussing the fact that the ranches were primarily on land owned by her and me, the American public. So I murmured some pleasantries, tipped her better than I suspect the million dollar ranchers did, and took my leave.
So, Multiple Use is a good public relations tool for some land management agencies dealing with a rural constituency. However, they do have a point on the more robust forms of recreational use. The NPS does generally discourage hunting, off road vehicle use, rock collecting and last but not least, plinking tin cans off a rock with a handgun (a sport derided in the effete liberal East, but much admired in the West)
To a degree, the NPS has been able to finesse the Forest Service, BLM, and Fish & Wildlifes' permissive attitude toward hunting by the creation of "preserves" in areas where the locals tend to be good ol'boys. NPS "Preserves" are an Orwellian concept in which if an edible animal sets foot in one of the "Preserves" at a certain time of year, it is liable to being shot. Examples are Barataria Preserve in Louisiana, Big Thicket Preserve in Texas, Glacier Bay Preserve in Alaska and so on. The idea is that half a loaf is better than none and the land is not being mined, clearcut or subdivided.
In the case of Secret Mountain/Red Canyons, the US Forest Service went into the game with the home court advantage and soon it was game, set, and match for Smokey Bear. Alternative one, favoring USFS management became the de facto choice.
Congressman Morris "Mo" Udall (D-AZ) summed up the decision in the March 24, 1980 issue of the CONGRESSIONAL RECORD (and provided an interesting example of how a Janus-faced pol can argue both sides of an issue)
Congressman Udall remarks
"To the scores of citizens who have written me urging opposition to the monument, I agree with you that adequate protection of this area does not have to involve the condemnation of private land or Disneyland-like operations of the Park Service. I find no current uses of private lands within the study area to be in any way incompatible with the public interest. Scaring or bullying people off their land is an unacceptable method to insure the use of this land remains compatible.
To the equal number of citizens who have written me urging support for the monument, I agree with you that Secret Mountain-Red Canyon is a priceless treasure that must not be sacrificed to shortsightedness and fear. We must have courage to be responsible stewards of the land and mindful parents of our children so that we can pass on to them the natural heritage that we as Americans have been so uniquely privileged to enjoy."
Thank you, Congressman Udall.
So, we shall comment some more on Forest Service stewardship in SNAKE IN THE GARDEN OF EDEN in the forthcoming March-April issue, #245;
CAT CARE
According to the Great Bear himself, many people have gotten into heaven on character references from their pet cat or dog rather than any contributions to the betterment of humanity. That figures. We can't all be Gandhi or Mother Teresa, but you can be kind to your cat.
Aside from assisting you into heaven when your appointed time comes, cats provide a number of safety functions: By keeping mice and chipmunks out of your house, cats protect you and your family from deadly Hanta virus. The presence of cats and particularly the stroking of cats, has been shown to lower blood pressure (though the latter blood pressure benefit may be canceled out when you find your cat has peed on your down sleeping bag)
To continue doing all these good things, your cat must be kept healthy. One problem, particularly for the indoor cat is dental care. Your cat needs to brush his/her teeth or at least floss. Now cats are smart animals, famously self centered and concerned about their own welfare above all other considerations (stories about cats rescuing their owners in a fire are rather rare). However, cats are not much for dental hygiene. This means that you must do it or have it done.
You can go one of two ways. You can buy a cat tooth brush (It's a small tooth brush with a thimble on the handle end that goes over your index finger). You put some tuna flavored toothpaste (I'm not making this up) on the tooth brush, and depending on the personality and docility of the cat, have at it. You must do this once at least once a week and preferably, daily.
Some cats are amenable, others are not.
The second way is to let your vet do it. Feline teeth cleaning is generally not the reason veterinarians were inspired to go to vet school, but it is a darn good way to make money. I talked to an NPS resource management specialist here at WASO and found that her cat's teeth cleaning was going to set her back $175 (actually dirt cheap for the Washington area) When she remarked that it was nearly twice that of her own teeth cleaning, I suggested that she dress the cat up and pass it off as her extremely hairy child.
The third way is to provide your cat with plenty of flossing material. Cats don't brush their teeth, but they do floss. Flossing opportunities are one of the very, very few advantages of being an outdoor cat. The feline can find plenty of interesting vegetable material to chew on.
Pet shops provide you with a grass seed gimmick that you moisten and sprout into grass which the cats like to chew on (and later puke up). Cats will often go after cut flowers that you selfishly purchased for your own enjoyment, cats finding them far superior to grass for flossing purposes.
There is a cheaper substitute that works for my cat and may work for yours.
I found that Tom was enchanted by pineapples; not the canned variety or sliced fresh pineapple, but rather the spiky leaves. He would embrace the whole pineapple and sort of waltz it around the kitchen table, gnawing on the leaves.
Naturally, you would like to have the pineapple and your cat would like to floss, so you can compromise. Cut the top (the spiky part) off the pineapple and place the spiky part near the food dish. Not every cat goes for pineapple leaves, but it is worth trying and may save some feline tooth cleaning bills.
THE FORMAT AND ETHICS
Now neighbors, we continue to receive sniveling, carping criticism on our new, improved electronic format.
Believe it or not, it seems that there are still some Franklinites and other snail mail devotees that would like to have their hard copy of the latest issue of THUNDERBEAR dropped off at their door by a pony express rider!
This is not going to happen. We have entered the 21st century and we propose to drag you into the technological sunshine of a new era.
We had one complaint from a member of the California State Parks that THUNDERBEAR is no longer "cute" and you can't take it into the bathtub with you! Also, that there is a tendency to scroll down through electronic text and thus the articles do not make the impression that otherwise would obtain if THUNDERBEAR was delivered by a mail carrier. (I had no idea that the nation teetered on the brink of revolution every time the post office took delivery of THUNDERBEAR!)
Another carping complainant took perverse delight in going over the old style THUNDERBEAR and searching for amusing typos. The new electronic format has less of these and thus the subscriber's pleasure was proportionately diminished!
We had another complaint that the new format, when printed out, does not readily fit into document boxes as they tend to "slump". (The nation is faced with anthrax, exploding shoes, and other problems, yet slumping Thunderbears seem to be the biggest issue to at least one reader, go figure!)
Ben Franklin, always on the look out for a new invention or a new idea, would jump at the idea of an electronic Thunderbear. It has cartoons, photos, and other graphics some of which move! and it is in color, for God's sake!
For those traditional souls who cannot read except in the bathtub, we still can provide paper and ink! Simply use the mouse on your computer to touch on three or four icons, the last one being the symbol for "print", wait a few precious minutes and soon Thunderbear will come dribbling out of your printer.
Do not staple it! We are going to avoid document slump! The reader is correct, the new format 'bear will not neatly fit into most document boxes and remain accessible. Simply get an old three ring binder (every office has plenty), run the issue through the office three hole punch and file it in the three ring binder. You can read it in the bathtub or on the subway, whatever suits your fancy!
"But can we ethically print out Thunderbear or reproduce it on government equipment? Of course you can! Much, if not most of each issue of Thunderbear is devoted to NPS or other environmental matters, and each issue has an article (solemn role of drums) on...SAFETY! You will remember that "Safety" is to the NPS what Mecca is to Osama Bin Laden. Nothing, no one, may jeopardize safety. Superintendents have been abruptly transferred from large, greenblood parks to small, claustrophobic historical parks for a perceived lack of interest in safety. Lack of interest in safety ranks right up there with sexual harassment as the third rail of career disaster.
Should you be questioned by your supervisor on the viewing or printing of the latest T Bear (Thunderbear interruptus), simply ask the question "Sir/Ma'am, are you against Safety?" The response will be magical, almost as if you threatened him/her with a crucifix or a wooden stake. The supervisor will go into whimpering denial and back out of your office, never to be seen again.
Can you ethically use a government 3 ring binder to house the Thunderbear collection? Only if it is available to the staff or the public in the park library. Can you run off an extra copy of T Bear on government copy machine for your own use (that is, in the bathtub?) No. This is not a particularly gray area, ethics wise. neighbors. Former Secretary of the Interior Bruce Babbitt sort of led the way in this matter of ethics as he could occasionally be observed in the basement of the Department of the Interior on his lunch hour feeding quarters into the commercial copying machine to make copies of personal documents. (In spite of this example, Interior workers would incorrectly use their agency copy machine to reproduce anti-Babbitt cartoons and jokes)
Indeed, other Federal agencies have stretched the ethical limits of the use of government funds and material to truly eye-popping levels.
One incident that is destined to be a classic is that of a US Army Corps of Engineer employee as reported by Al Kamen in the January 16 issue of the WASHINGTON POST. According to Kamen "A retired Army Corps of Engineer employee is suing a former Hooters waitress , claiming the $3,940 he gave her to enlarge her breasts three years ago was a loan, not a gift."
"So what? You say, cognizant of the way of a nubile lass with a dirty old bureaucrat. Well, neighbors, according to the POST, the kicker is that Corps of Engineers chap charged the $3,940 breast augmentation to his U.S. government credit card! You see, while there was no written agreement with the Hooters girl, the government employee had saved his credit card receipt. "You paid for breast enlargement with a government credit card?" asked the judge, incredulously.
"Yes" said our eager beaver engineer. "It's for travel and emergency medical care. I paid the government back."
The judge ruled that the man had not proved his case and dismissed the suit, allowing the woman to keep the money (and her breasts).
Now neighbors, unlike using government equipment to print out THUNDERBEAR, the Corps of Engineers incident does not appear to be a gray area in governmental ethics. It looks pretty black.
(One gains new respect for Secretary Babbitt piously schlepping his tax forms down to the commercial copy machine.)
SAFETY MESSAGE
Ah! you finally found what you were searching for! The bi-monthly safety message!
This issue's safety tip was sent to us by Bob Cunningham, late of Denali National Park and SOAR.
Friends, in these trying times, if your wallet is lost or stolen, you can be almost certain your are going to have more disagreeable experiences and encounter more undesirable people in an unbelievably short time than 'ere could you imagine.
You see, your wallet is not your grandfather's wallet. Your grandfather's wallet contained only his walking around money and a picture of your grandmother.
Your wallet, on the other hand contains your whole life. The cash is only the appetizer in a thieves' feast!
Here is the tip that Cunningham was kind enough to pass on.
"Place the contents of your wallet on a photocopy machine, do both sides of each license, credit card, etc. You will now know what you had in your wallet and all the account numbers and phone numbers to call and cancel. Keep the photocopies in a safe place."
According to the author of the tip (an attorney) his wallet was stolen and within a week, the thieves had ordered an expensive monthly cell phone package, applied for a VISA credit card, had a credit line approved to buy a Gateway computer, received a pin # from DMV to change his driving record information online (!!) and more. but here's some critical information to limit the damage in case this happens to you or someone you know.
"As everyone always advises, cancel your credit cards immediately, but the key is having the toll free numbers and your card numbers handy so you can know whom to call. Keep those where you can find them easily. File a police report immediately in the jurisdiction where it was stolen, this proves to the credit providers you were diligent, and is a first step toward an investigation (if there is one). But here's what is most important. CALL THE THREE NATIONAL CREDIT REPORTING ORGANIZATIONS immediately to place a fraud alert on your name and Social Security number. The numbers are: Equifax: 1-800-525-6285, Experian (formerly TRW) 1-888-397-3742, and Trans Union: 1-800--680-7289. You should also call the Social Security Administration fraud line at 1-800-269-0271."
As the man said, jot the above numbers down on the copies of your wallet contents and put them in a safe but accessible place. (Not your wallet.)