Where did they go?

My youngest daughter was philosophising over life and death the other day.

"Is it true that good people go to Heaven when they die?" she asked me.

"It is", I answered.

"Is it true that bad people go to Hell when they die?" she asked me.

"It is", I answered.

"But Grandma says that she's old enough to know that there is something good and something bad in everyone", she said. "Where do they go?"

I didn't know what to answer. No one stays here forever, so they must have gone somewhere. Is there a place in between?

I told her that those who are mostly good go to Heaven, and those who are mostly bad go to Hell. She promised she would try her best to be mostly good.

So 49,5 per cent good, and you go to Hell. 50,5  per cent good, and you go to Heaven. What a difference one per cent makes.

My Dog had Mail today

Writing is one thing Man can do, but no other living beings can do. Writing is communication with someone who is not present. Someone who is at another place. Only Man can do that.

Or so I thought, until I read this very interesting book by John Bradshaw In Defence of Dogs. There is a brilliant chapter on the dog's sense of smell and how it is used. The scent-marks left by dogs contain a lot of information that can be picked up by other dogs. E.g. the identity of the dog, which can then maybe be matched with a dog, that your dog already knows. It may tell something about when the other dog was at that particular place etc. And there may be other information that we are not able to imagine because we do not perceive the world or communicate by means of odours.

We can only guess. Tonight, on my evening walk with my male Retriever, there were many such scent mark-messages left there by various dogs. One in particular aroused the interest of my Retriever. My guess is, that it was from a bitch telling other dogs passing by that she was ready for mating here and now.

"Pee-mail" is a catchy word for these kind of messages left along the roads and in the fields. Written in a secret language that only dogs can decipher.

Men care more about Nature than Women do

" I think that love of Nature depends on the individual person, and that it has nothing to do with sex, race or religion".

 

These word were spoken by my uncle Jack, and now he has been brandished as a sexist by the local liberals (or the cat lovers and tea drinkers as he refers to them - quite wrongly as some of them seems to love nothing at all).

 

You might not know my uncle Jack, although a lot of people do. He is not unintelligent, but he has never learned to be politically correct. He speaks his mind without thinking. And it is incredible what the human brain can come up with, if you are not careful. The broad-minded community of our small town calls him narrow-minded. (He, rather naively, claims that broad-minded people can't be broad-minded, if they call other people narrow-minded).

 

What happened was this: There was an article in the local newspaper. It was about women. One claim was, that women care more about Nature than men do.

 

That was what he reacted to. He wrote a letter to the editor, and that's where he wrote the fatal sentence already quoted above: "I think that love of Nature depends on the individual person, and that it has nothing to do with sex, race or religion".

 

And now he is being accused of accusing women of being racists and that therefore he is a sexist!

 

I confronted him about the commotion caused by his unfortunate comment. "Well" he said, "its nothing. Think about what would have happened, if I had written "Men care more about Nature than women do." 

 

Quite honestly, I do not dare think about it.
------------------------

PS. Many years ago (1975) a saw a Danish film "Ta' det som en mand, frue" (Take it like a Man, Madam!). It reversed the roles of men and women in an office environment. Quite revealing when you had women behave like men and men like women. And quite chocking to hear the kind of remarks usually uttered by men about women in the mouth of women, and about men. Much has happened since then. Maybe it will soon be time to make the version Take it like a Woman, Man! Sometimes I now do the "sex reversal test" to see how female comments on the male sex would sound if the gender was changed. You should try it. It seems that women can get away with saying things about men that men cannot say about women.

People don't Think - and when they do .....

Worried about making a fool of yourself?

Dressing to go out. Should I wear a tie? What if all the others don't? What will they think of me?

 

Was that a stupid remark the one I made about the football match last Saturday? Should my car have been another colour - is it like showing off too much?

 

Well, don't worry. At least not, if you are of a certain age.

 

Some time ago, listening to the radio, I heard an elderly man being asked how important it was to him, what other people thought of him.

 

"Less and less with age", he replied. "With age I have come to realise two things. a) People don't think, and b) when they do, they don't think of you."

A Birthday Forgotten

The young are not what they used to be, when I was young. They lack the stamina that my generation has. Take bicycling, for example. My son in law, who is generally very sporty, recently bought a race bicycle. He first had to learn to bicycle. As a small kid he was always brought to school by car, and as he grew older the bus was his means of transportation. The city where he lived was not considered safe for children to cycle in.

 

He started training on his new bicycle. Not very impressive, if you ask me.

 

One day we were having a family dinner. He was talking about his progress in the art of cycling. "Today I even overtook another cyclist", he said. "Come on" he had shouted as he passed, "you can go faster than that".

 

"What was the reaction?", I wanted to know.

 

There was no reaction, he told me.

 

Then I made a very funny remark: "Maybe she didn't hear you. Maybe she hadn't turned on her hearing aid."

 

I noticed that he wasn't laughing. Not only do the young lack stamina, they also lack humour. And that's not all. Their memories are not as good as ours. I never miss an opportunity to mention the date of my birthday, but this year he had forgotten it, so I got one present less than expected.

The Stationary Voyager

A man comes on the radio. ‘Good Morning’ he says, ‘and welcome to another glorious summer’s day’.

 

 

 I have just put the kids to bed and sat down to enjoy a glass of wine and listen to a bit of radio before going to bed.

 

 

According to the man on the radio traffic is still dense, but the morning rush is easing a bit. And it is going to be fabulous day with bright sunshine and temperatures well into the eighties. I don’t know how hot that is, I am used to the Celsius degrees, but it sounds nice. The start of a new day with all its promises and possibilities. A commercial advertises new car tyres (or should it be tires). Pay for three, get four.

 

 

An offer you can’t refuse – unless you would have to take your car half way round the world. I am sitting in Europe, and I am listening to a local Californian radio station on the Internet. It is early evening. Rain is predicted for the next four days. I had great plans for the day, but most of them have been repostponed till tomorrow.

 

 

Tonight I have listened radio stations in Greece, Italy, France and the US. A great way to keep your language skills going. And a great way for the stationary voyager to move round the world.

 

 

Good night – or good morning, as the case may be. A new day is about to begin – or end.