With your indulgence, dear reader, here are a couple of entries found in Curmudgeon Chronicles. Written 10 years ago, so substitute a few names here and there to update:

Keeping up appearances

Nobody seems to have recorded whether Columbus hit the beaches looking regal. From his knees up, at any rate: It’s probably tough to be regal with your cloak hems soaking wet. (On the other hand, General MacArthur eschewed a gangplank when he returned to the fray in World War II, and the wet-to-the-knees look worked for him.)

One can imagine a focus group of uncommitted natives scoping ’ol Chris out and trying to decide whether to welcome him and his gang or kill them and divide their belongings at leisure. Presumably, Columbus had some air about him – a few months at sea in a caravel was possibly sufficient – that carried the day. Here is an unsubstantiated rumor that the vote was 51 percent for, 36 percent against. Fourteen percent went home to hide the women.

So much seems to hinge upon appearance, then as now. How any ties have you heard in just the past few weeks that so-and-so “looks presidential.” Looking presidential boils down to wearing a tailored suit, responding to light and/or sound, having some control over three facial expressions, and not picking your nose in pubic.

There really ought to be a little more to being president than that.

Election not a horse race

Jut about every pundit, politico, columnist, egghead and talking head seems to agree with the proposition that presidential political campaigns should present carefully articulated, clearly detailed, insightful points of view and propose directions toward which the country should move. Most Americans concur.

Presidential campaigns, nearly everyone says, shouldn’t be run as horse races are run. Naturally, that’s the way they are conducted. Here comes Buchanan, coming up from Iowa to New Hampshire toward Arizona and South Carolina, thundering up the well-worn and muddy track, catching up to nose out Dole, who faded in the stretch. Alexander a possible third, but only lengths ahead of Forbes. Then comes Keyes and Lugar. Far behind is Dornan, clearly out-classed. Gramm as a scratch. And then there’s Beedlebaum ... in ... the ... rear.

Handicappers and odds-makers are clearly confused. Lots of early foot was shown, some staying power, a few good mudders, much fancy grooming, and quite a bit of jostling and interference. Foul claims galore. A few contestants headed completely in the wrong direction.

Yes, a funny way to choose the person to be president, the commander-in-chief, the one who can press the button and nuke us all back to the last extinction, the most inspirational leader of the nation, most powerful person in the most powerful nation in the world.

Anybody laughing?

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Field Notes: It’s hot and dry. The hay was put up without it getting wet. Fire danger’s high and higher. Wildflower blooms are sprinting upslope. (Maybe luring hummingbirds.)

Tom Hahn has been finding many red and white-winged crossbills in any forested locations taking advantage of a bumper crop of spruce cones. He has also seen black-backed and three-toed woodpeckers, along with sapsuckers and a very few nighthawks. Hummingbirds, on the other hand, seem far reduced in number at many feeders.

Elk and deer are well-fed and sleek, as the availability of their forage would suggest.

Summer hustles on.

© Bert Raynes 2008

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Bert Raynes writes weekly on whatever suits his fancy with a dash of news on nature and its many ways.