Friday, March 30, 2018

A Spirited Dispute

Thought for the day:  Be at war with your vices, at peace with your neighbors, and let every new year find you a better man. [Benjamin Franklin]

[image courtesy of Seniorark]
That ol' Ben Franklin was a smart dude. No doubt, we should all wrestle our vices into submission, and being friends with our neighbors is undoubtedly a good idea, but somehow, I don't think most men would appreciate their ladies looking for a better man each year...

But neighbors... some neighbors make it really hard to get along, don't they? The loud inconsiderate ones who party into the wee hours of the morning, (Without inviting YOU!) the ones who blithely allow (Nay... encourage!) their dogs to evacuate on your lawn every day, the ones who borrow, borrow, borrow and never ever return. You know the kind. Robert Frost told us Good fences make good neighbors, but some people are so belligerent and difficult to get along with, they find a way to try our patience, fence or no fence.

And then... consider some of our world-wide neighbors. In far too many cases, inane disputes between countries have led to wars. And then... there's Canada.

Canadians are extraordinarily tolerant and polite. I can't imagine our neighbors to the north going to war for a frivolous reason. I mean... just look at how they protest:


Q. How do you get a Canadian to apologize?
A. Step on his foot.

Q. How many Canadians does it take to change a light bulb?
A. None. They don't change light bulbs; they accept them just the way they are

So would it surprise you to know that Canada and Denmark have been at odds for decades?

[image courtesy of Toubletap/Wikipedia]
What's their bone of contention, you ask?

Um, a rock.

Yeah, a rock... a BIG rock, but pretty much a rock, nonetheless.

Its name is Hans Island, and it's an uninhabited rock about half a mile in diameter and completely devoid of vegetation. It lies in the middle of Nares Strait, which separates some Canadian islands from Greenland, which, of course, belongs to Denmark.

The problem is, that strait is approximately twenty miles wide at its widest, and according to international law, any country can claim any territories within twelve miles of their shores. So... both Canada and Denmark claim this frigid hunk of Arctic rock as their own.

[wikimedia]
In 1973, the two countries signed a treaty to create a boundary between their territories, but the folks who drew the imaginary line down the middle of the strait kinda chickened out when they encountered the rock right in the center. They hopped over it without assigning ownership to either country.

So... both countries claim it. How do these two countries fight their battle over this rocky island?

With great spirits and a touch of humor.

[Image courtesy of Royal Danish Navy, 2002]
From time to time, the navies from each of these countries pay a visit to this barren chunk of rock.

When the Danes visit, they hoist their flag and erect a sign saying, Welcome to this Danish island.

And... they bury a fine bottle of Danish schnapps.







[Image courtesy of NY Times/Wikimedia]



And when the Canadians visit, they remove the Danish flag and hoist a Canadian one. They also exchange the sign for one that reads, Welcome to Canada... and they dig up the schnapps and replace it with a nice bottle of Canadian Club whiskey.

It's rather nice to hear about a dispute being handled with firewater instead of firepower, isn't it? These guys exchange shots... but it's the kind that warm a man's heart on a frigid Arctic day.

There's an old Danish proverb that says, No one is rich enough to do without a neighbor. I'd say these two countries take this to heart. These fellow NATO members continue to be good neighbors, in spite of a silly little dispute over a rock. Somehow, if oil should suddenly be found at this location, I have a feeling these countries will work that out amicably, too. After all, that's what friends do.




                                Until next time, take care of yourselves. And each other.


Friday, March 23, 2018

Finding Joy in Success

Thought for the day: That some achieve great success is proof to all that others can achieve it, as well. [Abraham Lincoln]

[image courtesy of Morguefile]
Achieving a goal and reaching some level of success is worth celebrating, but not just when it's a personal achievement. I think we should cheer for everybody's successes. If, as John Donne said, No man is an island, and any man's death diminishes me, shouldn't it also be true that appreciation for the achievements of others can elevate us, as well?

That explains why so many of us get such a thrill out of watching athletes accomplish feats far beyond our own abilities, and why so many of us swell with joy when in the presence of great art. We marvel and maybe even feel a teensy bit of pride at these wondrous achievements of mind and body. There's even a word for it. Buddhists call it Mudita, which essentially means finding joy in the happiness and success of others.

Only those who attempt the absurd can achieve the impossible. [Albert Einstein]

Today, we're going to look at the impossible achievements of some amazing men. There's an old Swedish proverb that says, The best place to find a helping hand is at the end of your own arm. But... what if there is no arm...?

What some may consider a catastrophe, others consider a challenge.

[photo from Army Medical Museum]
Consider Civil War veteran Samuel Decker. While reloading his gun in 1862, it misfired and took off the lower part of both of his arms.

So what did he do?

By 1865, he'd designed and overseen the building of his own state-of-the-art prosthetic arms. With the help of his invention, he could dress himself, feed himself, write, and even pick up objects as small as a pin.

[photo from Army Medical Museum]













In 1867, he was invited to the Army Medical Museum, where these photographs were taken to document him and his ahead-of-his-time invention.

Think his story is amazing? Wait until you hear about a young man who currently lives in Andorra...

[photo from Mirror Online]








For as long as he can remember, David Aguilar, like many other children around the world, has loved playing with LEGO® blocks. But David is a little different from most of the other children... he was born with a profoundly deformed arm.

So what did he do?

At the age of nine, he made his first LEGO® prosthetic arm.

It wasn't as successful as he would've liked. Not strong enough.

But he didn't give up.

In recent months, this enterprising 19-year old young man, who dubs himself Hand Solo, built another much more sophisticated... and stronger... arm from LEGO® building blocks.

What the mind can conceive and  believe, and the heart desire, you can achieve. [Norman Vincent Peale]

                                                                          Wanta see?



                                                    Doesn't that make you feel... good?

Wait! That's not all! A gentleman named Carlos Arturo Torres invented a LEGO® kit for children to build their own totally cool prosthetic arms! He said the idea was to take away the stigma of being different and make the prosthetic fun for children to wear, and the kits he donated to some children in need of them were resoundingly successful. In 2016, his IKO Creative Prosthetic System won the Grand Prix at Netexpo, an innovation summit held in Paris, and the hope was to release this kit commercially sometime in 2017. Unfortunately, I haven't found any indication that this has happened as of yet. But maybe soon...?


So does this give you a whole new perspective on those annoying little blocks that hurt like Hades when you step on them in the middle of the night in your bare feet? Yep, there's a whole inspirational world of possibilities and millions of things I will never build with LEGO®, but let's rejoice at the things other people have accomplished with them and applaud every other wondrous human accomplishment. Why? Because life isn't a competition. We're all on the same team. It's mudita, baby.

There is strength in numbers. When the bricks stick together, great things can be accomplished. [Steve Klusmeyer]

                    And that's true, whether talking about building blocks... or people.

                           Until next time, take care of yourselves. And each other.


Friday, March 16, 2018

Happy Maewyn Succat's Day!

Thought for the day: It's fine to pretend to be Irish on St. Patrick's Day; we pretend to be good on Christmas, don't we?


[image courtesy of Wikipedia]

Faith and begorra, it's St. Patrick's Day tomorrow. He's the patron saint of Ireland, and in celebration of him driving away the snakes and bringing Christianity to the Emerald Isle, people all over the world get poop-faced on green beer and Irish whiskey. I do hope such an honor is never bestowed on me after my passing...

Didja know St. Pat's real name was Maewyn Succat? Patrick is the name he took when he became a priest. Just as well, because Happy Maewyn Succat Day doesn't roll off the tongue quite as easily, especially after consuming copious quantities of the aforementioned beer and whiskey.

Didja also know St. Pat (Shhhh) wasn't even Irish?

Nonetheless, on March 17 every year, the date of this patron saint of Ireland's death, he is celebrated. With parades... with green you-name-it... with corned beef and cabbage or Irish stew. With lots of laughter. Ah yes... the laughter. How about an Irish joke or two?

[image courtesy of Morguefile]

One fine St. Patrick's Day, two men were sitting side-by-side at an Irish pub in Boston. After a while, one looks at the other, and says, "I can't help but think from listening to you that you're from Ireland."

Rather proudly, the other man says, "Why, yes, that I am!"

The first said, "So am I! Whereabouts from Ireland might ye be?"

The other says, "From Dublin, I am."

The first says, "Sure and begorra, so am I! And what street was it you lived on in Dublin?"

The other says, "Oh, a lovely little area it was. I lived on McCleary Street in the old central part of town."

The first says, "Faith, and it's a small world, so did I! And to what school might ye have been going?"

The other says, "I went to St. Mary's, of course."

The first guy gets really excited. "So did I! And what year did ye graduate, then?"

The other says, "In 1964, I did."

The first guy is so excited at this news, he nearly topples from his bar stool. "As I live and breathe, the Good Lord must be smiling down upon us this fine St. Patrick's Day! I can hardly believe the good luck that brings us together in the same bar. I graduated from St. Mary's in 1964 my own self!"

About this time, another man enters the pub and orders a beer. The bartender shakes his head as he hands the beer to him, and says, "It's going to be a long night."

"What makes you say that?" the patron asks.

"The Murphy twins are drunk again."

************

That joke reminds me of a true story that happened to me. Not at a bar, but at my doctor's office.

A temp was filling in for the receptionist that day, and in the course of chatting, she discovered I was from Maryland. She got very excited at this news and said, "Me, too! Whereabouts?"

I told her, "Dundalk." (Which, by the way, is a sister city to Dundalk, Ireland.)

Even more excited, she said, "ME, TOO!" Then she asked which high school I attended.

I said, "Dundalk High School."

"ME, TOO!!!" she screamed, practically jumping out of her chair. "What year did you graduate?"

When I told her the year, she stared at me, wide-eyed, with a blank expression on her face. Finally, in a much more subdued voice, she said, "Maybe you knew my mother...?"

***********

A word to the wise: Never borrow money from a leprechaun. (They're always a little short...)

Know why you should never iron a four-leaf clover? It's never a good idea to press your luck.

Know how to tell if an Irishman is having a good time? Easy. He's Dublin over with laughter.

                                                     How about a wee bit o' Irish cheer?





May your glass be ever full. May the roof over your head always be strong. And may you be in heaven a half hour before the devil knows you're dead.

                                 Until next time, take care of yourselves and each other.
                                  Bless your little Irish heart, and every other Irish part.