The Land of Independence, Opportunity, and Smallpox

Flags are cool. Of course, these flags hang at the Albion Fire Station, so maybe they're hot. Your flag may vary.

I originally wrote this seven years ago, but few people read it because it's about history. Ironically, it was one of the last pieces I wrote before my newspaper column became history. 

As I said in the opening of our book "Hoosier Hysterical", history would be a lot more fun if it was made ... well ... fun. So I had fun with this. (It's been changed slightly because I'm six years older.)

            Ever since Christopher Columbus first landed in the New World and hid all the Viking artifacts, America has been a land of opportunity, independence, and smallpox.

            Eventually the British colonists decided to go off and form their own country. (Except for Canadians, who were just too polite to leave.) Since our schools don’t teach enough history these days--there’s so much more of it now--I thought I’d give you a quick timeline of how we, the people, went from tea to coffee:

            1756: The French and Indian War

            This was probably the first World War. No, seriously: Over here we just mention the French and Indians, but the rest of the world called it the Seven Years War. It spread all over the globe, like a viral YouTube video, but with more cannon fire and disease. Nations involved included Austria, France, Great Britain, Prussia, Spain, and Sweden. Oh, and the Indians, who had their own list of nations.

            (Later on Prussia, not wanting to be confused with Russia, changed their name to Germany.)

            Why does this involve American Independence, which came decades later? Because it cost the British government so much to defeat their enemies (and the Indians) that they began taxing the colonists to help pay for it. And yet they didn’t allow the colonies to raise their own armies, plus there was that whole taxation without representation thing.

            Oh, and one more thing: The whole world war began (well, partially) because a young Virginia militia leader ambushed a French scouting party in the far west wilderness … near Pittsburgh. In later years, George Washington would be more careful to start battles after war was declared.

 

            1770: The Boston Massacre:

            No, it wasn’t a sporting event. It started when a group of colonists began throwing snowballs at a squad of British soldiers (In Boston. Sheesh.). That’s not so bad, is it? Then the colonists starting tossing sticks and stones, which, contrary to popular belief, can indeed break bones.

            This is a perfect example of why you shouldn’t throw stuff at people with guns. Five colonists died and the soldiers were arrested, but they were mostly acquitted thanks to a crafty defense by a young lawyer names John Adams.

            1773: The Boston Tea Party

            Tired of high taxes, an unresponsive government, and Earl Gray, colonists (In Boston—sheesh) dressed up as Indians, sneaked aboard ships (In the harbor—sheesh), and tossed 342 chests of tea into the water. In today’s dollars, they turned Boston harbor into the world’s biggest cup, with $750,000 worth of tea. They were led, of course, by the famous Boston patriot Folger “Starbuck” Maxwell.

            But why blame the Indians? They didn’t even drink tea.

            1774: The First Continental Congress

            They didn’t get much done. But in their defense, they were a Congress.

Things are starting to heat up.

            1775: Patrick Henry stirs the pot

            With the grievances of the colonists ignored by a remote government—sort of like today, only without Facebook—a radical named Patrick Henry, upset because he had two first names and no last one, began making fiery speeches and resolutions.

            The truth is, Henry was kind of a deadbeat. Worse, a lawyer. But man, he sure could talk good, and his actions helped ignite the American Revolution. You’ve probably heard the last line of his big speech, which was “Give me liberty or give me death!” Luckily, he got liberty.

            1775: The Midnight Ride of Paul Revere.

            He rode through the countryside yelling, “The British are coming!”

            Sleepy residents yelled back, “Shut up, you fool! We are the British!”

            Then he got arrested, probably for violating the noise ordinance, and the ride was completed by William Dawes. Unfortunately for Dawes, the name “Paul Revere” sounded better in poetry.

            Also 1775 (busy year, there): The Battle of Lexington and Concord

            Revere had discovered the British were marching by sea, which slowed them down considerably because the horses didn’t swim well. That gave the Minutemen almost a full two minutes. It was plenty of time to gather in Lexington, to protect stores of arms and gunpowder, and Concord, to protect the grapes.

            1775 (saw that coming, didn’t you?): The Second Continental Congress

            Didn’t get much done. They made up for it in 1776, though.

            1775 or so: The Battle of Bunker Hill

            It was actually fought on Breeds Hill.

            177—wait for it—5: Patriots occupy Montreal, Canada

            Things were looking up, up there. And that’s the last time things looked up for the Revolutionaries in the north, who discovered Canadian hospitality didn’t extend to invasion.

I wrote about both the American Revolution and Canadian hospitality in Hoosier Hysterical. Did you know Indiana was the location of the westernmost naval battle of the Revolution? You didn't? It's in the book--I'll go sulk, now.

            1776 (finally!) Egged on by the British, Cherokee Indians attack along the frontier

            They were still upset about the whole Tea Party fraud. Also, they were mad about getting named for a country on the other side of the world.

            June 7, 1776: Richard Henry Lee points out to the Continental Congress that they’ve been rebelling against the British for more than a year, and wouldn’t it be a good idea to actually declare themselves to be rebelling?

            June 11: Five Congressmen are appointed to draft a Declaration of Independence. The other four talk Thomas Jefferson into doing the writing, pointing out that he’s the only one who’s invented a portable desk to use.

            June 12-27: Jefferson writes a rough draft, only to receive a rejection letter from the committee.

July 1-4: The entire Congress rips apart the Declaration. (Not literally. Sheesh.) Jefferson quits writing and goes into politics.

July 2: Congress declares independence, just as the British fleet and army arrive to invade New York. Talk about timing. John Adams declares that July 2 will forever be celebrated as Independence Day.

July 4: Having already declared independence, Congress now adopts the Declaration of Independence, declaring something they’ve already declared. John Adams’ head explodes.

July 9: George Washington has the Declaration read before the American army. The soldiers nod politely and ask when they’re going to get paid.

There was much more to it, of course. In fact, you could say the American Revolution went on until the US Constitution was adopted in 1788, or even until we fought the second Revolutionary war in 1812, which might also be related to the real second World War.

Now, that’s a funny story.


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What's that, you ask? Why yes, of course you can celebrate July 4th, or any date, by buying Hoosier Hysterical: How the West Became the Midwest Without Moving At All:

http://markrhunter.com/
https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B0058CL6OO
https://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/"Mark R Hunter"

It's So Hot, We Stopped Telling "So Hot" Jokes

 This week has been so hot, "so hot" jokes have been trending.

There's only so much you can do with them, of course--they've been around a long time. One of the original European settlers, in the Roanoke Colony of Virginia, left a note that said "it's so hot we're moving to Plymouth". The settlers were never heard from again, after apparently getting lost on the Washington, D.C. beltway.

Just the same, it's been so hot even I've been uncomfortable, not that I'd admit it. I'd still take a heat wave over a cold snap, but that doesn't mean I like either one. I went out to mow the lawn at 9 a.m. the other day, and ended up going through five water bottles: Three in me and two over me. It was so hot the lawn mower started flashing an error light that said "water me".

"You think I'm leaving the shade without a drink, first? You just filled me with gasoline!"

 

I didn't know it even had error lights.

Fun fact: In order to clean my mower you have to connect a garden hose, which sprays water all over the inside of the mower deck while it runs, to clean the grass off. So, you DO have to water it.

Naturally, it's not just the heat up here. This week the relative humidity was relatively low, but last week was so humid that, after I mowed, I had to step into the shower to dry off. Relax, I'm not posting any photos of that.

Anything that was in full sunlight started to glow red, unless it was already red, in which case it started to glow orange. The fire hydrant down the street called me over and begged me to let my dog pee on it. I refused, being worried about steam burns.

"Don't worry about me peeing back at you, I can hold my water."

 

You'd think the humidity would satisfy it. At one point the humidity level was 140%, which translated to a heat index of, and I quote, "broil". Jim Cantore came over from The Weather Channel to investigate how the humidity can actually be higher than 100%, and his cameraman drowned. Meanwhile, three people were blinded when the sun shone of Cantore's head. He was heard to say, "I'd rather have thundersnow". Speak for yourself, fella.

But I took advantage of it by letting the air conditioner drain its water into a bucket outside, then using the bucket to water my plants. By the way, if anyone needs any planters, I, uh, killed all my flowers with scalding water.

It's been especially rough for people who don't have air conditioners--or for people who had no power at all, including the ones south and west of my home who were hit by the latest derecho. (It is too a real word--shut up, spell check.)

I tried to honor their crisis by going outside, at least long enough to mow the lawn. Their general response was that I was crazy, and could they stop by for several hours?

Anyway, eventually I had to go out again, to let the dog water that hydrant. The dog's response? "Um, no thanks ... I'll hold it."

"Nope. Uh-uh, not until the next cold snap hits in July."

 

 

http://markrhunter.com/
https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B0058CL6OO
https://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/"Mark R Hunter"

movie review: Jurassic World: Dominion

 Spoiler alert: "Jurassic World: Dominion" is about dinosaurs. But the real bad guys are humans ... which I guess is also obvious from all the previous movies.

What isn't obvious is how the movie makers would be able to get the characters from both the original Jurassic Park trilogy, and the Jurassic World trilogy, together in a story that makes any kind of sense. But this, we're assured, is the big climax to the whole franchise, so it had to be done.

And it is done ... more or less successfully.

The first trick is to introduce all those characters (plus new ones) slowly, so we start with Owen and Claire hiding away in the backwoods, to protect the cloned girl they--let's face it--kidnapped at the end of the last movie. Lots of people want to dissect Maise (Isabella Sermon, who should have a great career ahead), perhaps literally. Unfortunately, Maise is fourteen now, and chaffing at being stuck in a cabin with two adults, even with the excitement of a velociraptor in the woods and giant herbivores hanging around the local lumber camp.

Dinosaurs have spread all over the world now, and while some humans try to protect or at least control them, others do the normal human things: Dinosaur black markets target the animals for everything from exotic meat to dogfighting-like competition. Meanwhile, a new threat has emerged in America's heartland: dino-sized locusts, which our old friend Ellie Satler is investigating. When she gets an invitation to visit the place the new threat may be coming from--an invitation from Ian Malcolm--she tracks down Alan Grant to help.

Meanwhile the bad guys finally track down and kidnap Maise, so Owen and Claire also start a journey, and--wouldn't you know it--their search leads them to the same villain's lair Ellie and Alan are headed for.

See? It took me three full paragraphs just to begin to describe the plot, and I didn't even get to some interesting new people (especially DeWanda Wise as a wisecracking pilot), and returning side characters. There's a LOT going on here, people.

That's even before all the main characters finally meet up--which really is a treat to watch. JW:D somehow manages to give each of them some time to shine, and it's great to see the youngin's interact with the old farts, to coin a phrase. There are also, naturally, some fantastic dinosaur appearances, although sometimes the movie gets a bit too busy in the action sequences (especially a duel chase scene in Malta, which made me want to hum the James Bond theme).

I usually give things like this a pass, but there were so many coincidences. People and animals kept coming from miles or continents away, and then showing up at the perfect moment to save/meet/wisecrack with someone else. I suppose they couldn't think of a better way to do it, with so many characters and animals running in so many directions--but if I noticed it, it's pretty blatant.

Just the same, it was a joy to meet our old friends again, and the Jurassic World cast did a fine job ... after all, the failings of the last two movies weren't their fault. There was even a surprise or two, toward the end, and enough shout outs to the original movies to satisfy or disgust everyone.

Is this the end of the Jurassic franchise? Everyone involved seemed to think so, but I wouldn't bet on it.

My Score:

Entertainment Value: 4 1/2 out of 5 M&Ms. The movie came close to going out of control a few times, but it was still fun.

Oscar Potential: 1 out of 5 M&Ms. It's a summer popcorn movie: Enjoy it as that.

http://markrhunter.com/
https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B0058CL6OO
https://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/"Mark R Hunter"

book review: Circles of a Future Politician: How an Average American Saves America

 Dave Volek goes for a peaceful revolution with his books about Tiered Democratic Governance, including Circles of a Future Politician: How an Average American Saves America. Dave's using the novel format to get the word out about a political system that works from the bottom up, instead of the other way around. That's something that could make for dry reading.

But it's also an idea that wouldn't appeal to people who profit from the top side down system, so I shouldn't have been surprised that this book, the third in a series, starts out with an assassination.

 

https://www.amazon.com/Circles-Future-Politician-Average-American-ebook/dp/B09QLFCM8C

The idea is fairly easy to follow, so although I haven't read the second book, it wasn't hard to pick up. This time we follow Eli Weasel and friends on the Tankosin Indiana Reservation, as they attempt their own version of the TDC idea. It's progressed slowly for the group, until other events challenge them to get more active. The story follows them for the next few years, as the concept gains popularity both on the Reservation and in nearby communities. Dave means to challenge the readers' thinking about government and, if read with an open and serious mind, it does.

The story is meant to guide the reader through the theory and the process of building a TDG, so of course there are scenes that move more deliberately than you'd normally expect in a novel. I was more surprised about some scenes of excellent writing, following Eli's thought processes as he goes about his normal life in addition to his efforts to improve his community. It's hard to balance out a book like this, but Dave makes it work--and gives us something to think about.

The author and I don't see eye to eye on every political issue ... but that doesn't make him wrong this time.

http://markrhunter.com/
https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B0058CL6OO
https://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/"Mark R Hunter"

It's Festival Time

 And ... I missed most of it. Which I really don't mind, because I'm not much of a fair ride rider. I am a fair food foodie, but my wife and three doctors held me down and beat me with broccoli sticks until I gave them all my cash.

Speaking of eating, on the same Wednesday the rides started the Albion Fire Department served over six hundred fish and tenderloin meals under a pouring rain and occasional thunder ... well, under a roof. Good thing that roof was there. The Chain O' Lakes Festival is notorious for funny weather and/or unusual things happening. During the fish fry one year, for instance, there was an earthquake, but many of the diners just thought it was the sound of their waistbands expanding. This year everyone was treated to the performance art of one Mark R. Hunter, who tried to sit in a chair when the chair was somewhere else. And yes, I'm still sore.

My first night working in the new dispatch center was the Friday night of the Festival. For the first time in my dispatching career we had a great view, although we were mostly too busy to enjoy it. I did find time to harass a couple of police officers on foot patrol by sending them pictures I took--of themselves. Bwhahahaha! I'm sure they didn't mean it about the Tasing me thing.

From my new position I was able to catch this photo of a pirate attack on the Noble County Courthouse. Turns out those brick walls hold up pretty wall against cannon balls, which I later learned were paper mache, which might have made a difference. No pirates were harmed.

My position actually faces away from the street, which is for the best from a distraction standpoint. But there's a window to my left, and at one point, out of the corner of my eye, I saw a giant Transformer coming straight at me!!! Turns out it was a ride swinging my way. And not a cool ride that turns into a robot, either. So everything was fine, although the 911 caller was concerned about my screaming and whimpering. "Well, it's just loud music--should I call back later?" I still haven't found the pen I was holding at the time.

As I write this the Festival parade is today--or maybe tomorrow by the time you read it--but I'm working through that too. I'll take the day off when they make me Grand Marshal.

http://markrhunter.com/
https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B0058CL6OO
https://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/"Mark R Hunter"

Genesis of a Fish Fry, or: The Fish is Much Newer Than the Fry

With the Albion Fire Department's annual fish and tenderloin fry coming up Wednesday (June 8th), I thought I'd let everyone know just how long the AFD has been doing this fund raiser, which you can read more about here:

 https://www.facebook.com/events/1125758564936177

The answer: I don't know. I do know we've been doing it for at least forty-five years, with pauses for such things as, oh, pandemics. So I consulted the ultimate guide to the AFD:

 

But then I remembered: "Oh, yeah ... I wrote that." So if I didn't know it, it isn't in there. However, there is one moment in the book that might give us a clue of the annual fish fry's origins:

 ###

            Sometimes people forget volunteers must be ready always; there’s no time when a fire isn’t possible. Sometimes even firefighters forget that.

            On April First, 1946, the AFD held its traditional fish fry at the fire station. Unlike today, the fish fry wasn’t a fundraiser, but a social event held on a Monday before the regular fire meeting, with the Town Board members as guests.

            Chief Harry Campbell himself caught the fish – one of his more pleasant duties – and they were prepared and served by firefighters Ted Frymier, Byron and Welty Smith, Harry Butler, and Don Barcus, at “Gerald Fryonler’s restaurant”. In the midst of their supper, a young girl ran into the establishment and reported a vehicle fire at the REMC, which at the time was around the corner on East Main Street.

            (The REMC – Rural Electric Membership Corporation – was then in the same building that, back when it was a Chevy garage, first housed the ’29 engine.)

The men can’t be blamed for the obvious conclusion: It was an April Fool’s joke. Certain their falling for the joke gave some prankster great amusement, the volunteers hurried to the scene.

There they found a car, blazing merrily away.

###

 I've always wondered if one of the volunteers had to stay behind to make sure the fish didn't burn.

Anyway, hope to see you at the *mumblemumble*ith anniversary fish and tenderloin fry, and don't worry--you don't have to bring your own fish.

If anyone's interested in reading more about the AFD's history, there should be copies at the firehouse, plus I have some, or you can find them on our website:

http://www.markrhunter.com/

Or on Amazon with the rest of our books:

https://www.amazon.com/Mark-R-Hunter/e/B0058CL6OO

Or what the heck, even Barnes and Noble:

https://www.amazon.com/Mark-R-Hunter/e/B0058CL6OO

 

Everyone who's tried them agreed that yes, the fish fry has fish, and yes, the AFD history book is about the AFD's history. If they fried up books at the fish fry, that would be odd.

A Screen, A Dog, and a Bed

 Let's talk about pain.

Young people tend to be reckless because they haven't experienced real pain. There was a time when, one a scale of one to ten, I would have rated my chronic back pain as a nine, but I'm old(er) now. Chronic back pain is a four. A pulled back muscle is a nine, as is a migraine. A kidney stone is a fourteen out of ten.

I've talked to people who suffered through both a kidney stone and childbirth (not at the same time--wow), and it appears childbirth is a fifteen out of ten.

And there you have it: Older people need a whole new rating system.

 When you get old(er), you realize why older people didn't want to do stuff back when you were a kid. You could find out the same thing by just listening to their conversations:

"My knee says it's going to rain."

"Really? I can't feel my knee because of the lumbago."

"Oh, I haven't been able to lumbago since I was twenty."

"That's limbogo, moron."

Enjoy it while you can, kids.

(By the way, I Googled "lumbago" to make sure I got it right, and found out ... I got it.)

I told you all this to explain how I injured my neck by--wait for it--turning.

I once fell all the way down a set of stairs inside a house that was on fire, and all I got was a skinned knee. The next day I danced the lumbago.

We got a new radio system at work, and because I wasn't familiar with it I turned my head a lot more than usual to make sure of what I was doing. There are seven screens at my dispatch console. You have to be an owl to see everything.

"As long as I pay, my chiropractor doesn't give a hoot."

 

Neck pain level, after ibuprofen: maybe six, as long as I didn't actually turn my head. But I'd forget--and turn my head.

The neck pain caused head pain, and I was down for about a day. The day after, my wife and I decided to move furniture. This was a coincidence, but also related to pain: The dog's.

Beowulf is around fifteen years old, which in human years is something like 90. So he has trouble getting up and down stairs, but when that's where we are, that's where he'll be. The obvious solution: Move our bedroom downstairs, to where our office used to be. Let's face it, I do most of my writing work on the couch, while icing down various body parts.

My bed hasn't been moved in fifteen years. Why? Because, although we now use air mattresses, the frame is designed for a California King waterbed. Picture something the size of an aircraft carrier, strong enough to hold the contents of Lake Michigan.

It took two hours just to take it apart. Then we had to make multiple trips carrying pieces up and down  those narrow 1879 stairs with the sharp turn at the bottom, and now I know why the dog kept wiping out.

But we did it, and I once again got to dance the lumbago. When it comes to pain, how high can you go? Also, I can now tell you exactly what muscles are needed to haul something up and down stairways. The first day the pain level was about nine, but only when I moved, and as I write this it's down to a much more manageable seven. Ice is my friend.

And that's why none of you have seen me all week. Or Emily. Or Beowulf, who managed to slip by my makeshift barrier and come upstairs to see why we were cursing and throwing things during deconstruction. The next day Emily worked on one of our book projects, while I worked on a different one, and you know what they had in common?

They could be done without moving.

The lesson? I dunno. Buy our books, so we can hire movers? Meanwhile, if you see an older person who isn't moving very fast, cut them a break: You don't know if their day involved a screen, a dog, or a bed.

"A Walk? Nah, I'll just wait in the car."

 

http://markrhunter.com/
https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B0058CL6OO
https://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/"Mark R Hunter"