The Ruffled Crow

Animation, Art, and Other Shiny Things

Monthly Archives: March 2011

A Beautiful Neighborhood

Fred McFeely Rogers was a neighbor and friend of mine for all of my life. I never had the honor of meeting the man, and he had no idea who I was, but that didn’t matter; he cared about me and thought I was special. That was something I knew.

A week ago, March 20th, Mr Rogers (and all of us) would have celebrated his 83rd birthday. He died back in 2003, but the care, concern, and deep love he had for all of us remains.

As a reminder here are just a few glimpses back at this quiet and remarkable man.

ONCE UPON A TIME, a tong time ago, a man took off his jacket and put on a sweater. Then he took off his shoes and put on a pair of sneakers. His name was Fred Rogers. He was starting a television program, aimed at children, called Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood. He had been on television before, but only as the voices and movements of puppets, on a program called The Children’s Corner. Now he was stepping in front of the camera as Mister Rogers, and he wanted to do things right, and whatever he did right, he wanted to repeat. And so, once upon a time, Fred Rogers took off his jacket and put on a sweater his mother had made him, a cardigan with a zipper. Then he took off his shoes and put on a pair of navy-blue canvas boating sneakers. He did the same thing the next day, and then the next… until he had done the same things, those things, 865 times, at the beginning of 865 television programs, over a span of thirty-one years.

Tom Junod via Can You Say… “Hero”? (a wonderful read, please stop in and read the entire post)

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Our Menageries and Other Northwest Species

I grew up in a household full of animals. Sure, there was an abundance of dogs and cats – even a canary and a couple of turtles (of the red-eared variety) – but most of what padded, scrabbled, and flew through the house were not your standard issue pets.

Me and a Lion cub sitting on the stairs at the newly built Children's area of the Woodland Park Zoo. Published in the WPZ newsletter "Zoonews" ca 1967

If you go by sheer numbers, then it would be a close call between mice and squirrels. If you measure by unusualness, then the Red Fox squirrel or carnivorous beetles would fall toward the top of the list. If you include, uh, not live animals, then the 8-foot python (in the freezer) and Giant Red Kangaroo (autopsied in the garage) would take honors.

My mother was called ‘The Animal Lady’ by folks in the neighborhood. Both parents were docents (plus) at the Woodland Park Zoo for years and I got to know many of the Zoo’s denizens as well as other local “exotic” animals. I counted a cougar by the name of Loki among my friends. (He stayed with a lady who also had Servils and Civit cats.) I walked along with Bamboo the elephant when she took a walk around the Zoo. (she was ‘a toddler’ at the time and barely stood 6-foot at the shoulder.)

My parents and little sister with a Lion cub behind the scenes at WPZ

My original 2 mice (Antony and Cleopatra, btw) spawned a colony of mice of a couple hundred at any one time. (we supplied WPZ with treats for the Owls and Snakes when the colony would get too large) Through selective breeding we got albino mice with dark eyes, and dark mice with pink eyes. My mother was even able to breed a strain that got a specific skin cancer every other generation and bred true. Those went to Fred Hutchinson Cancer Research Center. Now that was something around the homestead. This was back in the late 60’s and early 70’s and this showed a genetic link to a form of cancer. It wasn’t until 1980 that I finally read a paper in Scientific American about the Oncogene – something my mother had proven 10 years before, working in a little shed in the back of the garage.

I was a lucky kid.

One of the few photos of the PNW Tree Octopus

For all the Raccoons and Opossums and Squirrels that shared our domicile through the years, there were a few fascinating Northwest denizens that didn’t pass though those portals. One was the local Tree Octopus.

The Pacific Northwest Tree Octopus lives in the rain forests of Washington’s Olympic Peninsula. Rarely leaving it’s coniferous cozy, the PNW Tree Octopus makes the arduous journey to the Hood canal only to mate, and it’s likely because of this formidable expedition (and it’s shyness) that we never took in one of the arboreal cephalopods.

Building around the greater Seattle area continues to boom and the resulting growth has effectively cut off many of the migration paths of the Octopus between the Olympic National Forest and the waters of the Hood Canal. This, coupled with predation by Cats, Eagles, and Sasquatch, has resulted in a greatly reduced breeding population and is threatening it’s extinction.

via http://zapatopi.net/treeoctopus/sightings.html

Photo detail enhanced using advanced ZPi cephalopod-image processing technology.

There is always speculation about ‘pockets’ of  PNW Tree Octopi living in or around the Seattle area proper, in fact there has been sightings reported at our neighborhood Carkeek Park. The hypothesis is that the Octopuses hitch ‘rides’ on harvested Xmas trees and, being highly intelligent, are reputed to have hidden deep within the tree’s boughs until given the chance to escape, sometimes stealing the harvester’s vehicle to hasten their departure.

Despite their seriously depleted numbers, there are still very few ways to show your support and help alleviate the plight of these cedar-sitting cephalopods. Fortunately, there is a rather direct manner in which you can help. As explained at the ZPi blog:

If you must give money to ease your conscience, donations to help the Tree Octopus should be given directly to the Tree Octopuses. Here is how to donate: Travel to the Olympic Peninsula (if you are a minor, ask your parents first). Stand in the Tree Octopuses’ forest near a tree and hold out a dollar bill. If you stand still enough, eventually a Tree Octopus will come by on a branch, reach out, and take the bill with her suckers. She will continue to return for more bills as long as you hold them out, so bring lots of singles. She will use them to line her den in the trees, as the bills will soak up rain water and keep her skin moist. Given the current value of the dollar, this is the most cost effective way to help.

Please note: don’t give them coins. While they are attracted to shiny objects and will gladly take coins, the toxic metals in coins (especially copper) can easily absorb into their skin and poison them. Paper money, checks, stock certificates, coupons, etc. are preferable and make better nesting material.

So please, do what you can for this endangered animal and, while you’re here, buy expensive things from our Washington state gift shops. In the words of Emmett Watson; Keep Washington Green – Spend Money then Go Home…

Why Tau Should Be Pi

Dear Japan,

The Terror of Cats With Thumbs

Police Logs

Police logs hold much the same fascination that Obituaries do – a sort of voyeurism where there is such a dearth of information about a true-life event that happened in a close-by locale that it is incumbent on the reader to fill things in and plain make stuff up in order to make sense of it. If we’re lucky we recognize a name. (or not, depending on your view of said person)

Buried back behind the verbal tombstones, perhaps near the puzzle page, or better yet a full Department in the free neighborhood newspaper, the Police log is the neighborhood’s version of office gossip. Often mundane, occasionally unfortunate, and sometimes ridiculous.

Even so, rote listings of times and events can be pretty dry. Fortunately, at least a few newspapermen take note of the haplessness that occurs and twists its tail for our reading pleasure.

Erudite and unafraid to coin a word or phrase, the Arcata Eye Police Log casts it’s jaded and sarcastic gaze on the northern California community of Arcata.

12:24 a.m.

A Plazaland mammoth drum circle

With help from some pert Purple Nurple

And other sweet strains

Entranced nearby brains

Cops didn’t attempt a reversal

3:47 a.m. A man found himself locked inside a Northtown restaurant in his underwear, and couldn’t figure out how he had gotten there. An neighbor heard his cries for help and called police. Police determined that he had crawled in there through a hole in an adjacent residence’s closet, and extracted him via the same route. Damage to the restaurant’s bathroom wall was to be negotiated by the business and Captain Underpants.

11:50 a.m. A man at a Uniontown bus stop was said to have exposed his disgusty-bits at a passing woman, but police determined that he had been going potty and the hideous display was just collateral damage.

Being within the boundaries of Humboldt county may have something to do with the freewheeling verbiage, but that’s just speculation on my part.

Slithy, tove-like speculation, I daresay…

On the other hand, and on the other coast, there is the Rochester Police Log of Rochester, New Hampshire. Settled in 1749, incorporated in 1778, and given to occasional spouts of poetic crime reporting.

Wednesday, Feb. 9

8:12 a.m. — Off Pickering Road out in front of a home, flies a flag upside-down at half mast.

“That’s a sign of distress,” says a flag-aware man who telephoned police as he passed.

A police welfare check finds that folks are OK —

the rope on the flagpole had just given way.

Monday, Feb. 7

5:46 p.m. — A baby opossum is caught in a fence, but Fish & Game won’t send a man,

it’s too small they say so it doesn’t make sense, but thankfully police have a plan…

they free the wee creature — throw hats in the air — and in a cat carrier stuff it,

then feed it some veggies, and, showing they care, will let it go later (not snuff it).

(reformatted for clarity. in print it’s all run together)

These nuggets of poetry are rare and sometimes hard to spot due to formatting so you’ll have to keep a sharp eye out…

Wherever you get your crime news – the local rag, the Post Office wall, other inmates – leave time to browse these spots on the interwebs.