I had to toss my son’s long, pointed umbrella last night, as it finally gave up the ghost. The white plastic pieces on the shaft had gone brittle and cracked. It must have been 20 years old, and it took up several feet of space, not having been invented during the collapsible, compact years.
They mustn’t make them like that anymore, as our newer, smaller umbrella ribs can’t seem to last longer than a set of tires, and they certainly snap in a solid wind.
However, we live in Texas, where it rains as many fingers as I have per year. It’s enough to make us want to run out and dance in it–and we have! But never to this extent.
Okay, yes, that Mongolian is an eagle hunter. But he’s not eating the eagle; he’s using it to hunt. Deer hunters hunt and eat deer, but eagle hunters use the eagle prowess in a self-serving manner and consequently keep the eagle alive. They train the eagles to catch small animals such as foxes and hares, whose furry coats eagles can easily spot in the snow. Then the trainer eats them. You see? It’s all about the hierarchy of which animals we like. Is it okay to kill tuna to eat sandwiches? Absolutely. Is it okay if we accidentally kill a dolphin while we’re in the middle of murdering tuna? No way, Jose. It’s about which animals matter.
Obviously, in America, eagles are emblematic of our country. We do not train them, and instead use hawks in falconry. We do not touch them, or their nests, or their eggs, as this is prohibited in the Bald and Golden Eagle Protection Act. Though the bald eagle was removed from the endangered species list in 2007, we continue to protect them as the symbol of our country. And we are certainly not alone in loving eagles. Mexico has a golden eagle on its flag, with a serpent in its talons, mid-murder. If that’s not badass, I don’t know what is.
And lest you think the mere association with eagles is not powerful, remember that The Eagles hold both the #1 and #3 spots of best-selling albums of all time (per http://www.mentalfloss.com). And that’s why we don’t stab eagles with steely knives.
I’ve never lived in a trailer court or hauled a camper or driven inside a 50s car, or even seen more than three inches of snow in my life. So perhaps that’s the appeal here to me. It all looks so campy and fun! I may not ever build a real snowman before I get to heaven, so I’ll enjoy the pictures instead.
For the more refined sensibilities, you may prefer your holiday pooches in cardinal-dotted doorways of resplendent mansions.
Reminds me of a certain Malt I’ve read about…
Or perhaps you prefer a chillier theme for a most chill dog.
Whichever way you go, make sure you can tell the real ones from the fakes!
I don’t get this at all.
Here we see pageant organizer Morten Traavik helping winner Dos Sopheap with her prize (a titanium leg to replace the one blown to smithereens), which she decided was too uncomfortable to actually utilize. Her fame, however, brought her college sponsorship. Norwegian filmmaker Traavik claimed the pageants “challenge the conventional concepts of beauty” and allow these women opportunities to feel pride as well as earn income. I suppose it’s a not-so-classic case of making lemonade from lemons, but it’s a hard issue to address.
No, no, just kidding. Actually, that’s animal trainer Doug Sues sitting on the back of famous screen star, Bart the Bear, then a young 10-year-old weighing 1300 lbs. Bart lived to age 23, passing in the year 2000, from a battle with cancer. No telling how many times he kissed Doug right in the puss.