’96 Lithuanian Basketball Team and ‘friends’. (photograph by Jack Straw—a joke for dead fans)

Chris told me this great Olympic story about the 1992 Lithuanian Men’s Basketball Team—how the first team was partly sponsored by the Grateful Dead. Naturally, they wore colorful tie-dye warm-up uniforms, sporting a version of the typical skull logo—typical if you’re a dead fan, that is.

Not only did they stay warm in them, though, the public sight of the Lithuanians accepting bronze medals was pretty heart-warming. It sounds like the Olympic podium has never been quite the same.

Against the odds, Lithuania went on to win the Bronze in Barcelona and stood proudly to receive their medals in tie-dye green, yellow and red with Lietuva (Lithuania) written across their chests. I wish I could have seen it.

The story actually begins with Lithuanian born Raimondas Šarunas Marciulionis :

Drafted by the Golden State Warriors in the sixth round (1987), Marciulionis was one of the first Europeans to get significant playing time in the NBA. He really got excited when his country gained its independence from the USSR in 1990, and set himself to organizing a national basketball team. The rest is history as the Lithuanian team went on to win three Olympic Bronze medals.

Saurnas Marciulionis is quite a special fellow I’d say. Back in 1992, the Goldenstate Warriors thought so and signed him to a 10.4 million dollar contract . The part I like is how Saurnas jumped right into the middle of that scary Bay Area earthquake. During the aftermath of the 1989 Loma Prieta Earthquake, he was spotted in his Goldenstate Warriors jacket pulling trapped passengers from a train wreck and administering first aid.

After his career as a pro was over in the mid-nineties, Marciulionis moved back to Lietuva, his homeland—our loss, their gain. He is reportedly one of Lithuania’s most successful businessmen.

How (you might ask) is Lithuania fairing in the Beijing Olympics? True to magical form, Lietuva stunned Olympic Gold Medal hopefuls, Argentina (79-75) on Sunday and then went on to pound Iran 99-67. Their next game pits them against Russia on Thursday. For a full basketball game schedule, click here.

Happy tales, and happy clicking for more information on sendoutcards,

Laura signing off

Burney Falls in the Fall of '08

Hello everybody!  I am thrilled to the bone!  How about them Democrats! It was such a sweet victory that blogging seemed lackluster by comparison, so I skipped a couple of weeks (times two).  I even bought a vintage coat on ebay to commemorate the purpling of our nation.  Yes, folks, the coat is very purple–purple mohair to be exact!

The savoring period is over, though, and now I’m back on track (ahem). But I just can’t seem to shake the feeling that some serious celebrating is still due me and my kind.  I mean it’s been 8 years since adults occupied the White House.  I am trying so hard to ignore Bush’s last stand and keeping my fingers crossed that he won’t do anything undoable.  Thank god for the (“Congressional Review Act of 1996”) a glorious tidbit sponsored by Congressman Bill Archer.

Pushing all that out of our minds for a day, my partner (Chris) and I drove to Burney Falls, which is about 60 miles east of where we live.  What a gorgeous day on the Modoc Plateau–home to the McArthur-Burney Memorial Falls State Park and the eighth wonder of the world, (reportedly designated so by President Teddy Roosevelt).

Eighth wonder or not (’cause there is a bit of controversy), here are a few pics and links with info on how to get to the magnificent falls, what to wear and some neat walking trails.  I say ‘walking’  because the paths are certainly on the hospitable side. Even your grannie could walk the 75 feet from the parking lot to the viewing area. And have I mentioned the fine steps down to the mist filled basin?

love-eagles

This northern Cal State Park is within the Cascade Range and includes 910 acres of forest, plus five miles of streamside and lakeshore, as well as a portion of the man-made Lake Britton, itself.

While walking along the shore, Chris and I were privileged to spot two mature bald eagles in flight and at rest. Follow the link for a pdf file on the subject.  I didn’t know this, but the Lake Britton/Pit River area is home to one of the largest populations of bald eagles in the contiguous United States.  At least seven pairs nest here, and it is a winter home, as well.

We sat for twenty minutes and watched these creatures on a conifer branch, hanging out side-by-side like lovebirds. One sang to the other. It was truly amazing!   Follow this link for a very short less complex version. I choose to think we heard the male serenading his mate, but it’s my romantic nature.  Maybe the boy eagle was just calling to a fish or two below.

The whole Burney Falls area is a fisherperson’s paradise. With his eagle-eye, Chris spotted some fine fellows swimming close to the shore.  He offered them vanilla Power Bar (for which I scolded him) but they weren’t biting.  A sixteen incher, however, did go for a bit of bagel.

Back to Lake Britton.  Formed by damming the Pit River, it’s fed by four (count ‘em) active creeks full of trout: Cayton, Clark, Hat and Burney.

The park’s centerpiece, however, is the 129-foot Burney Falls–not the highest or largest waterfall in our state, mind you, but often regarded as the most beautiful and definitely worthy of a sendoutcard. Not having seen all of the falls, I am reserving my opinion.  I did delight in the mist filled basin as you can see from the picture below.

About the park’s landscape:  It all began with volcanic activity. Throw in a little erosion–say millions of years worth and Voila! Everywhere you look there is black volcanic rock or basalt. This layered, porous matter holds a ton of rainwater and snow melt, which in turn feeds a very very large underground reservoir.  The basalt also hosts a ton of green moss, as you can see from this pic Chris took along Burney Creek.

Not enough can be said about Burney Falls–but how about these two items:  It releases 100 million gallons every single day and was named after pioneer settler Samuel Burney, a southerner whose offspring are credited with saving the entire area from dreaded commercial development.  Let’s hear it for the McArthurs! They bought the property and gave it freely to the state in the 1920s. it took two years for the state to accept the gift. Now those were some generous, persistent and farsighted folks!

Speaking of which…

Caltrans to the rescue

What a wild weekend!  Chris and I rode out the first winter storm of the 2008 season on the southern Oregon coast, Brookings to be exact.  Don’t get me wrong, we had a plan.

The plan was to ignore the nasty political climate while lolling about three stories above the beach and listening to the wind howl.

The hardest part was getting there, though—you know, driving in the pouring rain, dodging boulders and safety challenged motorists.  I’m serious. Rocks were pelting Highway 199 from thirty to fifty feet above and cars were flying.

If you’ve ever seen those signs, Watch for Rocks, they ain’t lying.  Though I don’t know what good looking up in the air does.  I think they mean we should be watching for them on the roadway.  Duh!

Speaking of which, we were lucky enough to get right behind this scooping vehicle for about five miles.  Watching it zig-zag all over the road like a rock-eating bug was kind of thrilling. Unbeknownst to us, though, we were headed for a mini-boulder pile strung across both lanes.

So everybody waited for a spell, while the scooper did its thing—very ably, I might add.  Bored and looking for something else to photograph, I happened to glance up and see this huge mass towering above our heads, ready to fall at any minute, I expect.  No pictures did our danger justice, but here’s one anyway.

You see, folks, the first rain of the season finds all these little cracks and fissures that are just waiting for that last thread of rocky togetherness to dissolve; which in turn causes rock slides on the roadway below— where we, the humble motorists, scurry about minding our own business.

It’s always a mess after the first storm, or, so I was told by a local lady, and I have no reason to doubt her small-town veracity.  Unlike one female politician we all have come to know, her word had a ring of truth.

There were also curve improvement and bridge replacement delays on Highway 199, not to mention a nasty looking crash that our sure-footed Subaru just missed participating in.

By the looks of things, somebody had lost control of his car, rolling and gouging a trench in the highway for about 25 feet before smashing against the side of the mountain wall. Better to end up there, though, than the rocky Smith River bed a hundred feet below on the other side.

The ragged vehicle was pretty near the rock slide, but I do not know if the obstruction caused the crash or not. The slick roads were dangerous enough without falling rocks.

Needless to say, Chris slowed down, after so many reminders of death and destruction.  For my part, I kept looking overhead for more of that falling rock stuff.

Here is the view of the Smith River gorge from the rock slide area where we had to wait for passage.  As you can see, it was very misty.

Speaking of which, we took a hike in the redwoods along the side of a tall hill near Brookings.  To get there, I had to drive on a sometimes muddy, birch lined, one-lane road for 4 miles, winding higher and higher into the heavenly mists.  No falling rocks or oncoming, thankfully.

The hike was steep in places, as the sign had warned us, but not really difficult. Gigantic redwoods were here and there, some of them still standing as they had for centuries, some in big pieces, some burned out but still green at the top.

This wasn’t the prettiest redwood hiking trail I’ve ever seen, but it was the only one where we encountered nothing but plant life and one, single, humongous, shiny black bug or spider. ( I couldn’t tell which.)  Such quietude was unusual for a redwood grove. Most of them are packed with foreigners in search of the esteemed ‘forever green’ Sequoia.

Sequoia Sempervirens or the coastal redwoods that we saw along the trail are the only representatives of their kind living so far north. They like to hang close to the ocean for the moisturizing effect but don’t want to breathe a lot of salt—hence the need to be a bit inland.  It’s the moderate temperatures and the coastal fog drip that’s necessary for their well being.  Fog drip….sounds exotic, doesn’t it.

For a question and answer format, You can follow this link to Ask the Redwood Doctor, Chris Brinegar (retired biology professor) for more info.  Dr. Brinegar has a unique perspective for offsetting your personal production of carbon dioxide, which he calculates at about 1600 tons per person, by the way.  If you have other burning redwood questions, he’s the man.

For a dryer approach, here’s a bit of what Wikipedia has to say: Sequoia sempervirens is the sole living species of the genus Sequoia in the cypress family Cupressaceae. Common names include Coast Redwood and California Redwood. It is a monoecious evergreen, meaning there are separate male and female reproductive organs on the same tree.  The life span is most impressive—multi millenniums (over 2000 years).

Coast Redwoods are the tallest trees in the world, reaching up to almost 400 feet in height.  Also impressive is the roundness factor, scientifically known as diameter at breast height —clocking in at 26 ft for the biggest ones.

The quietude of our hike was more eerie than relaxing.  Heavy mist and fog drip added to the other worldliness.  Once, we stopped to watch a few huge, sparklers start hundreds of feet above our heads and fall from the tree tops.

Perhaps you can imagine our faces pointed straight to the sky waiting for drips to make landfall.  Whole seconds would elapse.  Chris tried to catch a couple in his mouth. He also took this proverbial looking-up-view of tall timber.  Nice, huh.

Meanwhile, back in our motel on the beach the sky was clearing up. Patchy sun was replacing the storm, and there were many seagulls for Chris to play with.

All in all, the winter storm turned out to be not as intense as predicted.  I have this link you can follow for an update of what’s next for the West Coast.  Weather is getting easier to predict than anything else these days, especially the stock market.

Mount Shasta got its first topping in a while.  See how pretty the mountain looks!  if you’d like a greeting card (sendoutcard) with this pic on the front, just say so.  Chris (opportunityreviewer.com) can handle it.

I'll bite your head off.

Did you know that the name ‘mantis’ comes form the Greek ‘mantis’, meaning prophet or diviner? Did you know that the praying mantis is named for its humble folded claw position and not its ability to prey on creatures five times its size?

European mantis demonstrating its ability to hang sideways

Chris and I found this formidable looking insect on our screen door.  No doubt it was looking for crickets or other juicy tidbits. There are times, though, when the chosen tidbits do seem rather ambitious. I don’t know if this particular 2-3 inch predator could wrestle down and bite the head off a lizard, mouse, snake, hornet, tarantula or hummingbird, but the bigger ones can.

Before you decide to keep a praying mantis as a pet, think on that and know this: In some states it’s illegal to make a pet of a praying mantis, unless the mantis is foreign, i.e. Chinese or European. Both were introduced into the Northeastern U.S. about 80 years ago in the hopes of controlling crop-eating insects.

Back to the law: How can you know when you’re committing the crime of imprisoning a native?  The Chinese mantis is more brownish and has a green lateral stripe down the front wing, while the European sports a black ring on its leg like the one we found (see above).  As usual, Wikipedia puts it more scientifically: The Euro mantis is easily distinguished  by a black-ringed spot beneath the fore coxae.

Since there are at least 20 species native to the U.S., if you see one, best not try to domesticate it. When I was a kid, someone (might have been my mother) encouraged my little brother to keep a praying mantis trapped between the glass and the screen of his bedroom window—supposedly the perfect open air environment, i.e. cage, though some swear you can keep them without bars.

Occasionally, I watched my little brother fiddle with the odd looking creature, feed it live crickets, flies and spiders, hoping for some bonding.  I think it was supposed to earn him a merit badge, too—you know, the kind that Boy Scouts get.  If you’re hot to know more about scouting badges and insects, follow this link to Insect Life Merit Badge.

Speaking of which, the praying mantis is the only insect in the known world that can swivel its head from side to side in a 180 degree radius. If you want to see some very cool detailed shots of the mantis, click here.  Did I say shots? What I meant was brilliant new photographic techniques pioneered by David Yager, an associate professor of psychology and neuroscience at the University of Maryland.

Yager photographs his mantids (praying mantises) dozens of times, “each shot focused a few ten-thousandths of an inch deeper than the last.  A computer melds those views into a single image that is simultaneously focused throughout the insect.”

Why does Yager do this?  So his students can explore the mantids’ inner ear. What’s so neat about an inner ear?  Of the 2300 different species of mantids, most share the highly peculiar trait of having just one ear, located smack dab in the middle of the chest.

Moving on.  The praying mantis is one of those insects that gives women a bad name:  That’s because the female is known to bite the head off her mate, but only during copulation. This doesn’t deter the male in any way, so they say; in fact, it speeds up his ejaculation process.  And how do we know that the sperm gets a healthy boost just as the male is decapitated?  Because male researchers find this sexual cannibalism so fascinating that they have devoted many hours to watching it happen.

Sad to say, the watching might be what causes it, though.  In confined laboratory conditions with bright lights in her face, the female is more likely to eat the male, possibly as a means of survival, possibly because the dude was not an adequate lover. Who knows? I choose to think she is killing the male out of the goodness of her heart, saving him from the degrading hopelessness of life long imprisonment.

Back to the mating process: Like many other females, the mantis secretes a pheromone to attract the male and let him know she’s ready.  Sometimes he approaches from the front and other times he makes a flying leap from behind, depending on his preference. During one experiment, a mantis couple was observed copulating for six hours.  Afterwards, her lover was allowed to fly away, its head unscathed, thereby proving my point that females let the good lovers live on.  If you want to see a mating pair of Chinese mantises, follow the link.  Don’t worry, I searched long and hard to find the happy ending; but I warn you, it was at the expense of a cricket.

Although the praying mantis is known for its cannibalistic mating process, there is good evidence that it only occurs 5-31% of the time. Dan Feldman, mantis voyeur extraordinaire, says this occurs most often because the female is hungry and a mate’s head provides an instant source of energy for her.  Why didn’t I think of that!

But there are other explanations: As we all know, natural mating takes place without a camera and bright lights, so rather than leaning over the tank to study their every move, one group of researchers left the two love-mantises alone and videotaped what happened.

By their own accounts, they were amazed. Out of thirty private matings, there was not one instance of decapitation. Instead, the camera filmed an elaborate courtship display, with both sexes performing a ritual dance, stroking each other with their antennae before finally uniting in ecstasy. “It really was a lovely display”, one fellow reported, leading to his conclusion that sexual cannibalism occurs most often only if the female is hungry.

Still another researcher, thinks the head eating also benefits the male, since he serves as a kind of vitamin injection for his offspring who will now be strong in a world where survival of the species is everything. Plus, he gets to pass on his own genes. Whoopee! The fact of the matter is, sexual cannibalism isn’t unheard of in nature. The male redback and orbweb spiders fall prey to their lovers, not to mention the infamous black widow.

Despite its mating habits or maybe because of, the praying mantis has historically been quite the star of mythology and folklore. More recently, it starred in the Hollywood production of the sci-fi thriller, The Deadly Mantis (1957), a giant female that hatched after a volcanic eruption melted its Arctic ootheca (encasement).  Hmmm, does anyone see a remake using global warming?

Back to the old folk tales: French people believed a praying mantis would point a lost child home and help wandering lovers. Lost Muslims looked for a mantis to point them towards Mecca.  Some Africans tribes thought it could raise the dead. Americans thought mantis juices blinded men and killed horses.  But the Chinese had it down: Nothing cured bedwetting better than roasted mantis eggs.  I don’t know exactly what they did what those eggs, but knowing the Chinese, they ate them pickled or in a stir-fry.

Speaking of eggs, after mating, the female lays up to 400 in batches that are enclosed in a tough, spongy encasement called an ootheca. You can find oothecas attached to fence posts, twigs and stems, or buried in the ground.  No matter what size the mantis is, the eggs are all the same size. Some vigilant females stand guard over their eggs until the nymphs (young) emerge, unless it takes all winter.

Generally speaking, though, the eggs hatch in 3 weeks to 6 months depending on the temperature and humidity. The young finally emerge from tiny holes in the casing, looking exactly like their parents, only smaller. Because the nymphs grow quickly, they molt (shed their skin) while maturing into adults—adults like the European mantis Chris and I found.

We’ve come full circle, folks. If you would like a greeting card to have and to hold, of the green praying mantis on a red Maple leaf, just ask. I have access to the Great Printer in Salt Lake City—you know, the one that works for Sendoutcards.

Happy tales,

Laura signing off

UFO over Mt Shasta~photo by Chris Tatro (sendoutcards.com/site)

Speaking of leaders, we’ve got less than eight weeks till we get a new one. There’s a scary thought.

Let it pinball around your brain a bit, folks, and you’ll see what I mean….Time’s a wastin!

What’s all this mumbo-jumbo about earmarks?  Shouldn’t any state, regardless of population, creed or need, have the right to a spending spree? Or does that honor extend to the populated few?  A mute question, judging from reality.  The fact is, all Earmarkers like earmarks and earmarking just fine.

Which brings me to what I like best about an ‘Earmark’, i.e. its humble versatility as a part of speech.   ‘Earmark’, for example, can be a noun (including a gerund), a verb, an adjective, not to mention an interjection: Damn! Dickweed! Earmark!

A little focus, please:  An earmark is a line-item inserted into any bill that anonymously funnels cash to a specific project or recipient behind the public’s back.  In other words, any member of our esteemed Congress can direct a large wad of the taxpayer’s cash to his or her town where it can be spent on a pet project, without the Member of Congress having to identify him/herself or the project.

I’ve searched high and low to find some site exclusively devoted to earmarks and found it.  Follow the link if you like, but I did tweak some pertinent info from the FAQ section on earmarking:

How can we, as funders of the earmarks, ferret out the identity of an earmarker? We can’t. Earmarkers are allowed to hide behind any pile of crap they choose; nothing says a member has to identify his or her earmarks.  So just shut up about it.

Some Representatives and Senators are proud, though—-shouting their earmarks from the highest heights via the press, while many refuse to discuss them at all.  One way of finding out an earmarker’s identity is to look at the project name of the cash recipient—often named after the earmarkers, themselves.

Who gets the most earmarks? Who gets anything in life? The more powerful members of Congress. The surest way to excel in earmarking, however, is to be on an Appropriations Committee. The best position to secure anything, including earmarks, is to be a chair of an appropriations subcommittee.

Speaking of chairs, Rep. Don Young of Alaska has occupied a nice, fat, cushy one since 1973.  Back in 2005, as the head of the Transportation Committee, Young earmarked funds for the now infamous, Bridges to Nowhere. One of these bridges fellow Alaskan earmarker, Sarah Palin, supported—before Congress ended her non-wet dream, that is.

Back to Don Young, though:  in October 2006, Rolling Stone called Don one of “the ten worst Congressmen“. I’m willing to bet the magazine sill stand by its assessment.  If you read a little further, you’ll probably agree that this top ten honor should extend indefinitely.

Don Young on the subject of environmentalists:   a “self-centered bunch of waffle-stomping, Harvard-graduating, intellectual idiots” who “are not Americans, never have been Americans, never will be Americans.”

Don Young making a pun: The victims of Katrina, he suggested, “can kiss my ear!”

Don Young waving a  penis at Mollie Beattie.  Whipping out the eighteen-inch penis bone of a walrus and brandishing it like a sword on the House floor, Young said to Beattie (director of the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service), “There’s nothing sacred about this bone!”   Young also waved his penis at the rest of Congress, while arguing the right of an Alaskan entrepreneur to sell the sex organs of endangered animals as aphrodisiacs.

As you can see from the picture below, folks, the bone is a mightier weapon than the pencil and gives the term ‘pencildick‘ (a penis of small girth) new perspective.

Thank-you to the blog, A Tiny Revolution, who provided this comparison. I think you’ll agree that the Don Young penis story has much more punch.

Speaking of which, Rolling Stone has a lot more to say about “Mr. Pork’s” deeds as one of the infamous ten:  “Alaska’s Third Senator,” and former tugboat captain knows how to haul home the bacon.  More than $400 million was earmarked for two bridges.   Two separate bridges, folks, to two separate nowheres!

The first, nearly as long as the Golden Gate, was to serve an island community of fifty people. The second, known as ‘Don Young’s Way,‘ would connect Anchorage to a patch of scarcely habitable marshland, making Alaska, the nation’s third least populated state, the fourth-biggest recipient of transportation funds.  “…Stuffed it like a turkey,”  the famous earmarker boasted.

Which brings me to the subject of boasting:  John McCain and Sarah Palin criticized Democrat Barack Obama over the amount of money he earmarked for his home state Illinois, even though Alaska under Palin’s leadership has earmarked 10 times more money per citizen for pet projects.

Pet projects, you know, like the Bridge to Nowhere, the one that Palin was for before she was against.  Thanks to this very same bridge, we have to listen to Palin repeat ad nauseum, “Thanks, but no thanks,”

According to the Anchorage Daily, however, Palin campaigned in 2006 on a build-the-bridge platform, telling Ketchikan residents she felt their pain when politicians called them “nowhere.”

The newspaper goes on to say that they’re still feeling pain today in Ketchikan, over Palin’s subsequent decision to use the bridge funds for other projects — and over the timing of her announcement, which they say came in a pre-dawn press release that seemed aimed at national news deadlines.

“I think that’s when the campaign for national office began,” said Ketchikan Mayor Bob Weinstein on Saturday.

Meanwhile, Weinstein noted, the state is continuing to build a road on Gravina Island to an empty beach where the bridge would have gone — because federal money for the access road, unlike the bridge money, would have otherwise been returned to the federal government.”

Allow me to paraphrase the Washington Post on this ‘thanks but no thanks’ stance:

Palin is failin’ the Pinocchio Test. It would be more accurate to say that Sarah Palin finally killed off a bridge project that had become a national joke then used the money to build a road to nowhere.

Here is an Alaskan website that provides information about one of the Nowhere Bridges—a mute point, at this juncture.

I’m wondering what Sarah Palin is going to do about the second bridge—’Don Young’s Way’.  It’s still up in the air, so to speak.

Happy tales,

Laura signing off.

p.s. If you would like a real hold-in-your-hand greeting card, i.e. a sendoutcard , of the UFO pic that Chris  took yesterday morning, just say so.

Just when you thought it was safe to open my blog without hearing about the Beijing Air quality, think again…….

Remember how Chinese officials shut down their coal-fired plants prior to the Olympics in order to improve the air of Beijing? Guess, what, folks. This included Vitamin C factories, and now there is a shortage of precious C—which means higher prices for you and me.

Speaking of which, Chris and I received a notice from Highland Labs (makers of our private vitamin line) telling us that Vitamin C is almost nonexistent due to Chinese factory shutdown, and the price of C is sky rocketing.  In plain language,  Linus Pauling is rolling in his grave.

Here’s a little known fact: The Chinese cornered the market on Vitamin C production way back in 2005.  How did they do that, you ask? By using ancient, capitalist strategy, or undercutting everyone else to put them out of business, then raising prices. After China dominated the manufacturing sector, it was as simple as fortune cookie.  

Check out this historic tidbit, dated 20-Oct-2005: “China’s dominance of the vitamin C market was confirmed last week as DSM halted all production of the bulk vitamin in the US, making its Dalry plant in Scotland the only remaining major plant outside of Asia.”

Vitamin C prices have spiked. China controls 80 percent of the market.

Two years later July, 2007 the news (Christian Science Monitor) gets more grim: “A sharp rise in the international price of vitamin C is focusing fresh attention on the risks of the world’s growing dependence on China for essential food supplies and additives.”

Big market: A poster advertises one brand of Vitamin C. Prices for the key additive have risen sharply in 2007. Tim Johnson/Newscom

“China, which exports more than 80 percent of the world’s ascorbic acid – also known as vitamin C and a key food preservative – appears to have cut production over the past several months, pushing prices up by more than 200 percent to a four-year high. ” Vitamin C Imports from China to US: Historic Prices (kilograms).”

Notice how far the prices dipped only to rise:

year 2000: $5.00

year 2001: $3.25

year 2003: $3.50 to $6.75

year 2005: $3.50

2007: (Jan-June):$3.40 to $11

Leo Hepner, a London-based management consultant to the food and pharmaceutical industry, says, “The Chinese have virtually captured the lot, unbeknown to most people. It puts us in a very difficult situation if, say, they stopped making it.”

Leo Hepner, the soothsayer, is what we should call him. Beause that’s exactly what the Chinese did—Stop making it: They halted factories during the Olympics, including the Paralympics which will run through mid September.

August 4, 2008 Desert News, Salt Lake City:  “The only remaining producer of Vitamin C (ascorbic acid) outside China is Netherlands-based DSM. Its plant in Scotland is running at capacity and still cannot meet world demand, said DSM’s Martijn Adorf.

“China’s near-monopoly opened the door to huge price increases,” Her Hepner added, “and sparked an ongoing antitrust lawsuit. Much like a pole vaulter, ascorbic acid prices shot up from $3.50 a kilogram last year to $22 today.”

Hepner, the London-based food and nutrition soothsayer, went on to remind us that the Chinese in recent years had dumped ascorbic acid on the world market, and sold it for much less than it had cost to produce, which, in turn drove out most of the competition.  He blames Western producers for taking advantage of China’s bargain-basement prices.

Why didn’t Western producers of Vitamin C see this coming?  Weren’t they taking enough Vitamin C for normal brain function?

I don’t know, folks, but they weren’t the only dull ones.

According to Hispanicbusiness.com, factories in Beijing produce 70 percent of the world’s umbrellas, 60 percent of all buttons, 72 percent of shoes worn in the United States and 80 percent of U.S. toys.

But, but, but, how will we keep warm?  Stay dry?  What happens when all our shoes wear out? Will Santa have enough toys for the good little girls and boys?

These are questions we should think about now, folks.  Check your clothing labels, your electronics devices, your furniture your anything….we don’t need a soothsayer to see the handwriting on the Great Wall.

Come to think of it, why not let me be your soothsayer? There’s a window right now, folks. For more information about sendoutcards and other marketing opportunities, call Chris (530 925-2845).

Happy tales,

Laura signing off.

Mt Shasta sunset by Chris Tatro (www.sendoutcards.com/site)

Gustav, staff of the gods, has veered West of New Orleans, and that’s a good thing by most accounts. His impatience to make landfall lost the dude some strength, so he’s been downgraded to a category 2 hurricane.

What tropical cyclone is next on the horizon, I wonder? That’s easy to find out. First, though, you ought to check out this Western Hemisphere Satellite Map full of tropical depressions and tropical cyclones. It’s rather awesome!

Then there’s the Western Pacific Global Satellite Map. Equally awesome! And for heaven’s sake, don’t leave out the Tropical Atlantic Satellite, and the South Pole Infrared Satellite Image while you’re there, just for kicks.

Speaking of kicks, Tropical Storm Hannah is next on the horizon—more specifically, the East Coast horizon. And let us not forget Tropical Storm #9 soon to be named “Ike”.

5 Day Forecast for Hanna compliments of Weather Underground.

For a full update on the Atlantic Basin click here. All hail to AccuWeather.com! (No pun intended.)

Happy tales,

Laura signing off.

We’re talking about 100,000 condoms handed out to 10,500 athletes of the Olympic Village, along with leaflets and videos in a variety of languages. By my calculations, that makes 9.532805328053280… condoms apiece, although I don’t advise what that decimal suggests, i.e. halving them.

Since it takes 2 (two) to use one condom, each athlete was able to have SEX 18 times with a remainder of 550 for the more gifted performers.  Was that enough, I wonder?

Lest you think this is a new thing, free condoms have been handed out to Olympic athletes since ’92, Barcelona.

You’ve really got to applaud the Chinese for seizing another manufacturing opportunity, though. True to form, the condoms were made in China by the China Reproductive Health Industry Association.

Moving on.  In keeping with the spirit of free condoms, here’s something I know you’ll enjoy:  The Bill and Melinda Gates Foundation has funded  a ‘condom condom’ ringtone designed to introduce the youth of India to the humble condom.  Statistics for HIV in India put the disease at almost 2.5 million, but to speak of AIDS is taboo.  Not surprisingly, the use of any penis covering device is also taboo.

“We’ve made a conscious effort to move the concept of the condom away from negative association, like HIV and sex work,” said Yvonne MacPherson, country director of BBC World Service Trust India.

The ‘condom, condom!’ ringtone which can be downloaded for free features a 55 second, rousing, musical rendition of the word “condom” sung a capella by enthusiastic men in five part harmony.  What are you waiting for, folks?  Get your butts over to condomcondom.org!

And now for something completely different from the online newspaper China Daily:

Mother shocked to find condom in schoolbag

Mount Shasta sunrise sans smoke by Chris Tatro (www.sendoutcards.com/site)

Good morning, one and all, from the slopes of Mt Shasta, your friendly, active, neighborhood volcano in Northern California. It is a sendoutcards kind of day: The atmosphere here is crystalline, with an inspiring AQI (Air Quality Index). Let me just say that this is the sky of which dreams are made.

If you’ll bear with me for a bit more politics, compliments of the People’s Daily Online, I would be most honored. Those Asian types may not know their English, but that doesn’t stop them from turning a phrase, not to mention a victorious moment.

The victorious moment of which I’m speaking happened last night at the Democratic National Convertion, where Barack Obama was hailed by many as one of the greatest orators of our time. Even the critical Pat Buchanan, “right from the beginning”, looked shellshocked. This former presidental candidate called Obama’s acceptance speech the best and most important political convention speech he had ever heard, going back 48 years.

You can decide for yourself, though. For Barack Obama’s speech on video along with the complete text, follow this link to The Huffington Post. You can also get the lowdown on McCain’s VP pick( Sarah Palin).

Who is Sarah Palin, you might ask: She’s “the former point guard and captain of the Wasilla (Alaska) High School Warriors who went on to become Miss Wasilla 1984 before working as a local news sports reporter who then served as city councilwoman and mayor of the town of about 9,000 before being elected governor of her home state just two years ago. Here, a look back at the woman who failed to become Miss Alaska, but could be a heartbeat away from being President of the United States of America. ” For more photos….

Enough of this bold nonsence, folks! Back to my favorite no-nonsence Chinese newspaper. As you can see, I am shouting the finale of today’s blog, ’cause I don’t know how to get rid of this bold type. Here, therefore, in the bold italics of their own words is how the People’s Daily decided to play out the closing ceremony of the 2008 Democratic National Convention:

“On Aug. 28, 1963, U.S. civil right activist Martin Luther King Jr. brought Americans into a dreamland with the resounding “I Have A Dream” speech in Washington D.C. As Dr. King foresaw before he was assassinated in 1968, the country now has accepted a person of color to be the presidential nominee. The son of a Kenyan man and Kansas white woman is fighting for his way.

On his journey to the White House, the Illinois senator kept appealing to Americans, in rural cottages or in urban stadiums. It did not take too much time to convince young people inspired by his underdog stories and upbeat speech.

Now, Obama is supposed to become more fearless since Joe Biden joined his fight for the White House.

There could not be a better time for Republicans to flex their muscles in foreign and national security areas.

Despite a national convention that was filled with calls for party unity, it remains an unfinished mission to Obama to woo those voters who used to support Hillary Rodham Clinton but now are considering helping McCain.

And just what pic was chosen by the People’s Daily to represent Obama in his glory moment? Hmmm…Can those foreigners possibly be insinuating that Barack has two sides of his mouth from which to speak? I don’t think they like him much. But you be the judge.

People's Daily: English version---Obama talking out one side of his mouth

Happy tales,

Laura signing off

p.s. Chris Tatro For President!!! A SendOutCard in every mailbox!

This tidbit sparked some interesting chatter about hummingbirds flying South for the Winter: They look so fragile. How do the little things manage? How far do they go each day? Do they fly in little spurts? Big spurts? Where do they end up?

After consulting a gazillion sources, I found out that any answers to hummingbird migration are ‘iffy’ and really depend on who you want to believe. One thing for sure, hummers can be spotted in one of three Winter homes.

For most, it’s down in Central America (between Mexico and South America) where the insects are big, juicy and plentiful. Some, however, remain along the Gulf Coast, perhaps too old or too young to attempt that 457 mile flight over water. Still others, prefer the Outer Banks of North Carolina. (For interesting hummingbird migration speculation, facts and artwork, check out this link.) To tell the truth, folks, how the humming bird manages to make such a long, lonely journey without eating every five minutes is a mystery.

Dan True, meteorologist and hummingbird photographer, suggests that a hummer crossing the U.S. could travel “the circle winds created by a super high, as far as 1,200 – 2,400 miles” before the high gives out. According to True, they may be in a “state of constant migration, traveling farther and with more purpose” than once imagined. People have often seen hummingbirds “flying through the mountains at 200 feet and occasionally 300 feet above ground – taking advantage of the Great Basin winds”. This way, they might be able to migrate in a full coast-to-coast circle, hopping the tail winds and munching along the way. Sounds mind boggling, doesn’t it?

How do they know when to leave? …When the days get shorter, of course.

Do they fly in flocks? When is the last time you saw a flock of hummers? OK, so that’s not a fair question, since an entire flock could be zipping by at the speed of light. The answer is….drum roll…..Hummingbirds never do anything together. They are solitary creatures and feisty ones at that. Anyone who has ever put up a backyard feeder knows how unsharing the little buggers can be. I hate to say it, but it’s the males that are most preoccupied with guarding all the food.

Never too preoccupied to copulate, though. (I know, I know) I just said that they don’t do anything together; but that’s impossible, ’cause they do follow the prime directive to perpetuate their own species, and this requires the usual form of togetherness. The courtship dance of the male hummingbird is by no means usual, though. Spectacular would be more like it.

Driven by extreme urges, he becomes more of a dare-devil than ever. First launching himself skyward 60 feet or more, he immediately nose-dives at the speed of light (about 50 mph), only to pull up at the last nanosecond and relaunch. This persistent fellow makes a U pattern again and again, amidst much chitterings and loud flappings of his wings. (choose me, choose me, choose me…)

Speaking of wings, hummers are the only birds that can rotate their wings in a circle, thus enabling them to fly backwards, forwards, sideways, upsidedown straight up or straight down, not to mention hover in place. Check out this pretty YouTube Video set to an old song that will probably bring back memories of teenage togetherness from long ago. (Uh oh, we’re perched on the verge of a sendoutcards moment*.)

Speaking of togetherness, when the female feels like it, she selects a mate —perhaps the most energetic dude catches her eye, or the one defending a territory that looks to be uncommonly rich in oil, I mean flowers, but that’s only if she’s smart. In any case, as soon as the male deposits his seed within her little body, the courtship is over. So is the honeymoon, for that matter. Fatherhood is not his forte, either.

Undaunted, the female goes on to build her nest, lay white pea-sized eggs (ideally two), become a mother and raise a family. The typical male mates again with several other females, as if he enjoys the idea of a harem. Then amped on the afterglow of numerous copulations, the male hummer goes off to war, his sole purpose being to conquer and defend the best and richest territory. It is reported or suggested that he does allow females with whom he has mated to feed off his flowers, but I have seen males attack females. Maybe they were just the ones that denied him, though. That’s why I try never to deny them a full tank of sugar water.

Anyone who has hung around a hummingbird feeder knows that you can be dive-bombed by the defending male, even while attempting to refill the receptacle with treats. Speaking of sugar water, Hummingbirds only use the sweet stuff as fuel—-a drug, if you will, to get them hopped up enough to snag boocoodles of succulent incects. Thanks to the mother’s regurgitation of insects into waiting mouths, the hummer is a carnivore from the get-go. Although, sometimes the tables can turn.

If you want to watch a sick YouTube video of a praying mantis eating a newly hatched hummer, then be my guest. On second, thought, I’m removing the link. Instead, you can see a video of two little hummers hatch, get taken care of, grow up and leave the nest.

Happy tails, I mean tales, Laura signing off

p.s. *Why sendoutcards, you ask? Because you can create and design your own hummingbird cards that the Great Printer prints, stuffs, stamps and mails—that’s why.