And then I wrote...

by Dick Schilling, "Editor Emeritus"

... that my paternal grandmother, whose parents emigrated from middle Europe, knew the weather folk wisdom of that area. They were not “blessed” with today’s modern forecasting system.

She always cited the effect of the weather just before the ides of May, the 12th, 13th and 14th, as predicting how the summer’s weather would be. They were called the “ice days” because they could be rather cold days. They were the predictors for June, July and August, respectively.

If that holds true this year, we are not in for a warm summer season. All three were less than ideal spring days. In fact, that Sunday morning, there was widespread frost. I didn’t think much about it. The flowers seemed to have survived. But Monday morning when I went to cut the sparse asparagus my patch is producing, I found several spears which were soft and wilting, apparently affected by that frost.

So, it was a surprise when I learned that morning that April was the warmest month on record world-wide. My utility bills show that was not the case in this area.

I suppose any columnist worth his salt (what does that mean, anyway?) feels obliged to comment on the transgender accommodation suggestion by President Obama and his administration recently.

Every time the subject comes up, there is the discussion about shared bathrooms, shared locker rooms, and shared showers.
And every time I hear one of those discussions, I am reminded of an incident from my own background.

A fellow officer and I, while our carrier was berthed in Kobe, Japan, did the usual tourist things that city provides. There was a large contingent of British citizens in that city, as well as a large group of what they called “white” Russians, all because of the mines. I assume the “white” tag was applied because they were from western areas of Russia, as opposed to the Mongolian areas. The Brits had a neat pub, called The King’s Arms, were there was a dart board, where we could order “half and half beer/ale, and where we could get one of those famous Kobe steaks, heavily marbled, from rice beer fed and massaged beeves.

It was the Christmas holiday season, and one of the employees, noting the crowd, suggested we might want to try a local club, which was used to having non-Japanese customers. It was pleasant, and there were entertainers. The Japanese learned that lonely Americans liked their Japanese girl entertainers as scantily dressed as possible,

We had been in Japan long enough to recognize the word “benjo” as meaning toilet, so I took advantage. There was a slanted trough about two and a half feet up, that served as a urinal. There was also flowing water in a trough at floor level. While I was pondering that placement, one of the girl entertainers came in, pulled down her minimal lower clothing item, and squatted over the low trough about five feet away.

Neither of us acknowledged the other’s presence.

I figured I wasn’t in Iowa anymore, Dorothy!