Lift Up Your Hearts!

For another of the numerous projects that overflow my cup of time, I was perusing my post of almost a decade ago, A Dickens of a Drink, in which I lament the loss of a favorite drink from the old Kay's Coach House restaurant in Daytona Beach. Although the kindly bartender responded to our family's enthusiasm and my youthful pleas by writing out the recipe, I was never able to acquire many of the ingredients. Even today, with Google and the vast resources of the Internet to help, a search for "Bartender's Coconut Mix" brings up only a sponsored handful of coconut liqueurs—and my own post. Cherry juice was not something available in grocery stores back then, and I'd never heard of grenadine.

As I have occasionally been doing recently, as part of my AI Adventures, I asked Copilot to analyze the text of my old post. As part of its response, it asked, "Would you like help modernizing the Tiny Tim recipe for today’s ingredients?" What an idea! Well, nothing ventured, nothing gained, and here's what it came up with (click image to enlarge):

I am looking forward to trying this out on a smaller scale. I'm sure I can find all the ingredients. A quick reflection makes me question some of the proportions, but it's a great place to start. Maybe that's what an AI tool should be all about: Begin with a well-researched base, then add the human element (experiment and taste) to make it real.

The RobWords YouTube channel is often interesting, but this one will resonate strongly with some of my readers, who have long known that babies are geniuses, and not just in language. It starts out basic, but then gets into some fascinating cutting-edge research, such as 

• Babies in the womb can tell the difference between one language and another.
• Four-month-old babies can tell different languages apart without hearing them, by watching the speaker's lips.
• Babies use a complex statistical process to figure out word boundaries.
• Children figure out grammar patterns before age two, e.g. children brought up in an English-speaking environment have by then already learned that word order is important.

Two questions this short explanation raises in my mind:

• What does the importance of lip-watching in language development mean for children born blind, and for those whose view of the speaker's lips was obscured during that critical time by a face mask? (I know a speech therapist who was exceedingly frustrated by trying to work with children who could not see her mouth thanks to COVID restrictions.)
• For babies to learn words, then phrases, then sentences may be the most common pattern, but I find fascinating that one of our grandchildren—whose speech and grasp of language is top-notch—did the process in reverse, i.e. to all appearances, he learned complete sentences first, then figured out how to break them down into smaller parts.

When I was young, stories for children about sports had one theme in common: sportsmanship. In fact, that was the main reason given for the existence and importance of sports: taming the instincts of aggression and domination into tools for the betterment of all areas of society, including the protection of women and children. A coach's job was to build a winning team, sure, but his most important job was to build boys into men. With minor modifications, that works as well for girls and women.

Today we have a win-at-any-cost mentality that poisons sports, politics, and every other area of life. Martin Luther King, Jr.'s dream that people would be judged by the content of their character loses its soul when character no longer matters.

I don't understand how people can live with themselves whose victory comes from not playing by the same rules as their opponents.

I hear that the CDC is recommending that anyone travelling abroad get vaccinated for measles.  No matter where they're going.

"Never had it, never will." (Are you old enough to remember that 7-Up commercial?)

If my doctor recommended testing as part of my annual blood draw, and Medicare would pay for it, I might consider checking to see if my antibody response is still robust after all this time. After all, it has been a few years since I had the measles.

As it turns out, the CDC is okay with that.  If you dig down just a little from the scary news stories and read what the CDC actually says, they acknowledge that if you've had measles in the past, you're good to go.

Florida has become the second state (after Utah) to ban the addition of fluoride to community water systems, for which I am very grateful. I prefer to have governmental decisions made at the lowest practical level, but I prefer even more not to have to choose between buying bottled water and drinking tap water with greater-than-natural levels of fluoride. I already get plenty, perhaps too much, from other sources, from toothpaste to topical fluoride to my frequent cups of tea. There may be dental benefits to consuming fluoride, but ingesting it ought to be a personal choice, not something forced upon all customers of the community water supply.

I let my opinion be known at the city level, with no success, despite the good examples of neighboring cities. So I was thrilled to learn yesterday that our legislature had passed, and Governor DeSantis signed, a bill eliminating added fluoride in our water systems.

There may have been a time when adding fluoride to the water supply was important, but with the substance so readily available in other ways, there's no excuse for forcing it on the general population.

Thanks, Florida!

Whatever you think about Facebook, there's no doubt it can be unintentionally amusing

I mostly find its "Reels" feature to be annoying, and have more than once looked without success for a way to turn it off completely. The short videos it shows are mostly reposted from Tik Tok, which I don't otherwise see. Sometimes they are interesting, sometimes they are genuinely informative and helpful, but all too often I find them infused with a negative view of life, even when they are undeniably—even addictively—entertaining.

Sometimes, however, something unexpected shows up and catches my eye.

If you don't have access to Facebook, you may not be able to watch the video, unfortunately. I spent too much time trying to find a version I could embed here, without success. I hope that link will take you to something you can see, but if not, it doesn't matter.

My readers know that one of our granddaughters plays on her high school girls' soccer team, and that the team has been wonderfully encouraging and supportive of her family during her sister's leukemia journey.

Here's another way they showed their character.

What caught my eye (more accurately, ear) in this video, and made me listen all the way through, was that it's not often when I hear mention of their tiny New Hampshire high school in nationwide media. I think this is the only time I have, actually. So it made me jump.

The short version of the story is that some of the team members did not want to play against a certain other team on their schedule, which included a boy in their lineup. First, in principle, because theirs is a girls' league, not a mixed one, and also because they found the boy physically threatening. The team's coach handled the situation extremely well: those girls who objected to playing that game were excused without any penalty, and the team played the game without any fuss. Somehow it made the news anyway, but I'm proud of the way they handled the situation calmly and fairly.

Our granddaughter? She played the game, with the support of her parents, even though they all thought it unfair for a boy to be on the opposing team. Why? I can't speak for them, but here are a few reasons that came up in our discussion:

• After all she's been through, Faith wanted to support her team, and to play soccer.
• It wasn't the other team's fault that they had a boy on the team—it was a state ruling that forced them to do so.
• Boys and girls often play successfully on the same soccer team—although that's usually at the younger levels, before males gain a significant physical advantage over females.
• They've played against other teams with girls she found more physically threatening than this boy.

The game was played successfully and without incident. I honestly don't remember which team won. In a way, they both did. Don't misunderstand me: The teams should never have been placed in this position, and the state rule that made it happen needs to be fixed.

But bad things happen in this life, and when they are met with quiet grace, that deserves to be celebrated.

Perusing our church's bulletin for this coming Sunday, I noted the announcement of a special collection to benefit the food pantry at a local elementary school. Here's the list of the most needed items:

• canned fruit
• applesauce
• pasta sauce
• macaroni and cheese
• Pop-tarts
• cereal bars
• pudding

RFK Jr. can't take charge of our government's health priorities soon enough for me!

Moving on in the 21st century, I did a little playing this morning with Microsoft's Copilot AI. This time, instead of creating images, I asked questions.

I realize that the great danger with asking questions of Automated Idiocy is the biases that are built in, either unintentionally or on purpose. Wikipedia, unfortunately, has developed the same problem, so I'm no stranger to the need to be careful with results. But even Wikipedia can be a great source of information about which there is little dissent, so I began with an inquiry about the availability of Heinz Curry Mango Sauce, which I have not been able to find in this country, despite Heinz being headquartered in Pittsburgh. Copilot quickly suggested three places where I could buy it: Walmart (but it was unavailable when I checked their site), Amazon (also unavailable), and someplace called Pantry.me, which claims to have it, but out of my price range, especially when you add the cost of shipping it to the U.S. Still, Copilot tried, and give me hope that someday Walmart may actually carry it.

Next I asked it to find "Sal's Birdland Sauce," having momentarily forgotten that the name they're using now is "Sal's Sassy Sauce." Despite the incorrect name, Copilot found the item immediately, though for a price that leaves me happy to rely on the generosity of a friend who regularly visits cities with Wegmans supermarkets, where Sal's Sauce can often be found. Or to use my own recipe, which I'm free to say is quite good.

Then I asked a more controversial question: Where can I find ivermectin? First it gave me a stern warning that ivermectin must only be used "under medical supervision"—which is actually not true, depending on where you live; our friends from Ecuador can buy it over the counter at the local pharmacy. But after that it did give me some sources.

Finally, I asked about Switzerland's recommendations with regard to the Covid-19 shots, and received this response.

As of spring and summer 2023, the Swiss Federal Office of Public Health (FOPH) is not recommending COVID-19 vaccines for its citizens, even for high-risk individuals.

You can still get them, if you insist. If you can convince your doctor to make the recommendation, the shots will be paid for; otherwise you can still get them as long as you pay the costs yourself.

Back to Copilot one more time, where I learned that the United States still recommends the shots for

Everyone aged 6 months and older...including women who are pregnant, breastfeeding, or planning to become pregnant.

As I even now listen to the Senate confirmation hearings of Robert F. Kennedy, Jr., all I can do is pray that our recommendations will change soon, especially for the children and babies.

I know nothing about any of the people or organizations involved in the following video, but the poem hit me hard when I discovered a few months ago. It expresses deeply one part of the groundswell that resulted in the election of President Trump, and seems particularly appropriate in light of President Biden's recent preemptive pardon of Dr. Anthony Fauci.

I love books. I've loved books for longer than I can remember, since my parents read to me long before I could read for myself—as naturally as a bird-parent drops food into its hatchlings' mouths.

The transition from non-reader to reader was not without its stumbles. Even at my advanced age, I still remember Charlotte's Web with both pleasure and pain. My parents had been reading the book out loud to the family. As the oldest child, the one who could now read on my own, I grew impatient with the one-chapter-at-bedtime pace, and the next day picked up the book and continued the story on my own.

Maybe that's not always a bad thing, but it meant that I was alone when I encountered Charlotte's death. If there was some of the deadly sin of Avarice in my action, it carried its own punishment with it. Ah, well—rites of passage are not meant to be easy.

The transition from non-reader to reader is one of the most significant milestones in modern life, one we don't share with our more primitive ancestors. As recently as 1900, more than 10% of the American population was illiterate. Somewhere between 1969 and 1979, that dropped to below 1%. This, of course, takes no account of how well people read, nor the more disturbing trend of can read but don't. But that's not the question that emerged recently, prompting me to write.

(Yes, this is a new post, not one pulled from my storehouse. It was supposed to be a quick and easy post to make. I should have known better.)

The question is whether or not there are other decisive milestones on the literacy journey, once one has mastered reading Of course there are significant steps in the progress of that mastery, a big one being the transition from being able to decipher words to the technique having become so automatic that it is accomplished with no conscious thought at all to the process, only the content. For example, I can read French well enough to enjoy some books, but it's nowhere near an automatic process.

(I think that there's a point still further, when conscious thought creeps back in, but I never made it through Mortimer Adler's How to Read a Book, much less apply his techniques, so I can't say from personal experience.)

What I'm wondering is how significant to the reader has the advent of e-books been. It's not of the order of the act of reading itself, but the Kindle has certainly changed our lives and reading habits. I'm definitely bimodal when it comes to books: There's nothing like the pleasure of reading a physical book, but e-books have distinct advantages as well, such as being able to carry a vast library in a handheld device, and to search the text, and make notes, and highlights, and to copy excerpts via cut-and-paste rather than laborious typing. On the other hand, e-books don't really belong to us; we may like to think so, but they can be taken away from us at any point. So I will read with the physical books, and I will read with the e-books also.

After that long introduction, here's the incident that gave me pause: After reading six Kindle books in a row, I began another in physical form. (Brandon Sanderson's Warbreaker, if you're curious.) I was reading along, and when it came time to turn the page, I unthinkingly swiped my finger across the lower right-hand corner of the book. That's the way I turn the page with my Kindle

Guess what? It didn't work with the physical book, and I was momentarily taken aback. Even more interesting, I still find myself repeating the motion on occasion, and I'm 143 pages into the book.

The human mind can be peculiar, sometimes.

Florida's state surgeon general, Joseph Ladapo, just went up another notch in my book. He is now recommending that Florida's cities that add fluoride to their water supply reconsider that practice.

Don't get me wrong: I'm not against fluoride as an aid to dental health. And once upon a time I was pleased to have fluoridated water, considering it to be a sign of a progressive city. I now believe I was wrong. (I have been wrong on occasion. Once upon a time I even thought it was a good idea to get the COVID-19 vaccine, a decision which I now regret.)

Maybe there was a point in time when it was a good idea to mass-medicate the population, but looking back, I don't think so. In any case, there are now so many other ways to obtain fluoride for dental purposes that it seems ridiculous to impose it on all the city's water customers. I'm not against fluoride, per se, but I am 100% against government-mandated ingestion of fluoride. Let those who want it avail themselves of the many options available, but let our water be pure and safe! Here's hoping we can convince our city to follow the surgeon general's recommendation.

In this I do envy our Swiss family, whose city water comes out of the tap as it comes out of the ground: no fluoride, no chlorine, just great-tasting, pure water.

UPDATE: I wrote to our mayor and our city commissioners, and received a response from the city manager, with whom I have already clashed on the issue of recycling. It was not encouraging. He hastens to reassure me that "you will be happy to know that the levels in our water [are] far lower than the level of fluoride in the study that concerned the Surgeon General," and "we are guided by the science." Well, no, that does not make me particularly happy. Any level of added fluoride is at best outdated, as fluoride for dental purposes is readily available in many forms for those who want it. Medicating the population, en masse and often against their will, is not an acceptable function of government.

Plus, the phrase "we are guided by the science" automatically raises red flags, as all too often it translates to, "we are guided by the pronouncements of whatever authorities we choose to follow," with little regard for how the process of science actually works. This is the same city manager who, when I asked where the materials that the city collects for recycling actually end up, showed no interest in what happens to it once the city passes it on to another agency.

I guess there's more work to be done. I hate politics, but the least I can do is speak up, so they can't insist that they must be right because no one is objecting.

I certainly should have known better.

For several years I worked in a research lab at a major university medical center. True, I only did the computer work (I have exactly one published paper to my name from those days), but even back in the 1970's it was obvious that the peer-reviewed papers/government grant system was, if not totally broken, at least rigged.

Moreover, I spent much of my life learning that "the system" was not to be trusted in many fields. I think it began when my mother, following the customs and recommendations of both society and the medical experts, fed her newborn infants a mixture of diluted evaporated milk and Karo corn syrup, instead of breastfeeding.

But it didn't really hit me until I had children of my own, and observed again and again that the best course of action seemed to be to do exactly the opposite of what the experts recommended and society accepted without question. From birth and childrearing practices to educational decisions to nutritional and medical choices, life taught me that "going with the flow" was often a very bad plan.

So why, why, why did I willingly, even eagerly, accept the COVID shots? Two reasons.

One, working in medical research had provided opportunities to perhaps make a difference in the world, and one of these was being a test subject for the development of the Haemophilus Influenza B vaccine. Porter and I have been blood donors for decades. Our DNA is part of a medical research database. In other words, we've always tried to be good citizens on the medical front.

I like to think that was a good thing. But it predisposed me to being willing to try the COVID shot for the good of the world. Plus, the pressure was great back then that COVID-19 was deadly for the elderly, and our children were worried about their parents.

Still, I feel really stupid for trusting the medical establishment that this was "safe and effective and the only way to keep from killing grandmothers." I knew better. I knew, and even proclaimed at the time, that when the government and medical authorities make such broad statements they are lying. They must be, if only because nothing—especially nothing so novel—can be known to be safe without long-term trials.

By far the biggest factor, however, in our decision to get the shots was blackmail. We have family living overseas, and the only way we could visit them was to submit to the jab. Grandchildren change so fast, even in the course of a year. Even stateside family was largely cut off. We missed a big family reunion, and a nephew's wedding, and barely made the wedding of another nephew. Florida relaxed its restrictions relatively early on, but several long-planned events could not have happened without our vaccination cards, thanks to the restrictions imposed by other states. It was much worse for other people; at least we didn't miss any funerals, or lose our jobs.

Knowing what I know now, would I have willingly closed the door that the magic compliance card opened? I certainly hope so, but I can't honestly say I'd have made the sacrifice.

Nonetheless, I feel stupid, betrayed, and very, very angry.

We're all probably going to die when a more dangerous pandemic hits, because the trust is gone. At least the boy who cried wolf only got himself killed.

I know some mama bears who need to hear this message from yesterday. I don't want to send it to them individually, for a couple of reasons. One, even though I may be convinced that something about a video will resonate with a particular person, I could be wrong, and maybe even offend that person. I'd much rather make something available and let people decide for themselves. Secondly, even in a small audience like mine, I know there is someone who would benefit from it, though I have no idea who. Maybe some papa bears. Maybe some young people who are facing life with courage and joy yet are feeling old before their time. Who knows? So I put it out there. If you're not feeling overwhelmed and overstressed, feel free to skip this wisdom that is both Christian and Cherokee.

It is from the YouTube channel, Appalachia's Homestead with Patara. I've only been following it since Hurricane Helene, when I friend sent me a link to one of Patera's posts about the devastation there. News from Western North Carolina and East Tennessee was spotty at best, and those with already established communications channels (who weren't totally cut off) were a godsend. This quote is from her About section:

How a suburban family left it all behind in order to homeschool & homestead in Appalachia. Learn how to begin homesteading and to learn vital skills such as gardening, food preservation, animal husbandry, homeschooling, genealogy and more! We have chickens, turkeys, geese, quail, ducks, dairy cows, dairy goats, rabbits, 3 Great Pyrenees & the cutest farm cat around! Come along with us on our journey as we follow our Appalachian roots!

The video is 25 minutes long and does well at increased speed. I hope it is meaningful to some of you, but if not, that's okay, just move on.

I love the Amish people. It was an Amish Supreme Court decision (Wisconsin v. Yoder) that became the backbone of home education today. Our family has deep personal ties to a court case that brought the Amish of Western Pennsylvania into downtown Pittsburgh to show their support in a situation that threatened their own way of life. The Amish are a very private people who just want to be left alone to live their traditional lives, but they will rise up and make themselves heard when their very existence is at stake. Several of our grandchildren were born in Amish Country. I'm not Amish, and I don't even know personally any Amish people, but I admire them greatly.

The following video is from Nick Johnson, about whom I know nothing else; it showed up as one of those YouTube suggestions after I watched something else. I found it delightful on many levels, from the scenery, to the simple, innocent, and very shrewd wisdom of the Amish people, to their solid values, to their delightful accents. (Did you know that their language is still understandable by modern-day speakers of Swiss German?) There's also an interview with Amos Miller, who is at the forefront of the fight for food freedom in Pennsylvania; we have some of his great meat in our freezer even now.

If you've ever met an Amish buggy on the road, you'll know how surprising this image is.

Traditionally, the Amish do not participate in civic matters. They do not vote. But this year, they see an opportunity to speak up for their way of life, the very existence of their farming and small business based culture, which is being crushed by heavy-handed governmental regulations that favor large corporations. They are voting this year, and in large numbers. For a look into a beautiful part of American culture that we rarely see, enjoy this 30-minute video.

Amos Miller is excited about the team that is gathering around Donald Trump.

They know the importance of farmers, they know the importance of food freedom, and I'm hoping that Trump will get that same perspective so we the farmers can do our duty that we've liked to do for many years. Farmers are going out of business like flies. We have lost probably 50% of our farmers within the last 20 years. We like to be farmers, we love to be farmers, but the rules and regulations that have been forced upon us for the last 30 years are terrible. We can't make a living, the food system is monopolized, the corporations want to run the government—so we're looking for someone to push government back, so we can be the true farmers that we love to be. Our culture loves to be farmers. The work ethic is still here; that can be lost in a very short period of time if we can't be farmers.

Author S. D. Smith explains that his children's books are good but not safe—and why that's important. Authors like Smith prepare the ground for children to grow into the heroes we will desperately need.