Dear Reader,
A few nights ago I saw the news footage they were broadcasting (MSNBC, at least) of the ill cattle being fork-lifted, and otherwise prodded, to their deaths, and subsequent butchering and distribution. This is why 143+ million pounds of beef (71,500 + tons/at least twice that many animals) have been recalled, although a lot of the beef from this particular processing center has already been consumed.
I was horrified by what I saw. Now, I don't "horrify" easily. I can watch TV shows like CSI and even "Dexter" without blinking, because I know it's fake. I can watch the "real crime" shows on Court TV and MSNBC because I know the perpetrators (mostly) have been caught. I can watch Freddy and Jason and all the rest; heck, I watched "Dark Shadows" back in my youth, when that was considered "bloody." What unifies all of these things I can watch is that they involve humans harming/killing/butchering other humans. Oh, yeah, and that they are, mostly, fake. So, as I look in shock and wonder at humans' capacity to torture and kill other humans, when I see humans abusing animals, who want nothing more than something to eat and a place to sleep, I am even more horrified.
These were awful images; they made me cry, and these days that's hard because of the meds I'm on. But what a terrible, heartbreaking sight: poor, sick cows being pushed, prodded, or even hauled by forklifts; shocked repeatedly by electric prods; mouths opening in pain. Thank heaven there was no sound on the tape, but you could see that the cows were reacting in agony.
What is wrong with humans? How can they think this is the way to treat other animals? How can humans do the things they do to even their domestic animals, like dogs and cats? How can anyone think it's okay to beat or drown or electrocute or choke a dog to death (Michael Vick)? How can people douse animals with gas or lighter fluid and ignite them? How can people involved in the meat industry treat living things this way?
I am not a vegetarian. I love a good hamburger, steak, hotdog, or even a good piece of chicken or turkey. I love eggs, and cheese, and other animal "by-products." However, it shocks me that there are so many horrible practices in the meat/food industry that, if they were common knowledge, would lead to a wholesale rebellion against the meat-factory practices as they exist now, and to a more humane, less industrial track for the meat products we consume.
The last time I had a reaction like this was when my younger sister told me that after Easter, most of the unsold baby chicks and ducks that are hatched for Easter basket sales are simply killed. The sidebar to this is that, when batches of eggs hatch and there are already enough (a full quota) of baby chicks/ducklings, the hatchlings are incinerated. That is, put by the tray into a furnace and simply burned alive.
This image has haunted me for years. I think it's why I stopped eating cornish game hens; tiny little chickens. Again, how can humans be so cavalier about other living things? I know that not all people, not even most people are like this. But so many "ordinary" people seem to see no problem with these sorts of atrocities. What does that mean; where does it come from?
Many folks didn't "get" why there was such outrage at Michael Vick's actions in his dogfighting career. It seems as if the Congress is more upset by sports "heroes" taking steroids, and only harming themselves, than by their killing animals and showing no contrition. I know there is a very active animal rights "movement," but sadly, most of the people involved with it, and most of the spokespeople, come across as unreasoning and unreasonable hysterics. They also always look like wild-eyed fanatics, with more than a touch of "hippie" to make the image even less attractive to the general population.
We are also dealing with a vast array of different cultural approaches to animals and their treatment. For example, apparently in some Asian countries, it is acceptable to torture dogs to death, so that their MEAT is tender for human consumption. Oh, MY GOD!
So, what to do? Treat my cats as well as I possibly can; be nice to the dogs I meet; try to provide a sanctuary in the Park for domestic and wild animals and their people; eat as little meat as possible, and never hunt or harm or kill an animal. Well, I'll make an exception for roaches; okay, roaches and flies and mosquitoes, but I allow spiders to make themselves at home!
Meow,
Catbird
Thursday, February 21, 2008
Tuesday, January 22, 2008
What Keeps Me Singing?
Dear Reader,
I haven't written much about my singing here; this past year or so has been a difficult one in that area, both personally and in my general involvement with my chorus. It's these things that frequently make me question why I keep singing.
Then, I have a lovely night like last Saturday night. I was invited to participate in a "gig," a fundraiser for a medical condition called ARDS (Acute Respiratory Distress Syndrome). We were singing the Brahms "Requiem." I refer to this as a gig because I only had to show up for one rehearsal, the dress and the concert. No big pressure, a short schedule, in and out. No pay of course, but any time I get a chance to sing the Brahms with an orchestra, I'll take it.
I was called for this because someone told someone else that I was a "good" singer, and that I knew the Brahms. I'll take credit for the latter; I love the piece, and have sung it many times in concert, so have had the opportunity to memorize a lot of it, and work on subtleties like expressing the text (which is profound), understanding the entire concept of the work (which is complex) and really working on the musical nuances (which are many). I had some back and forth with the person who invited me as to the rehearsals I could attend, and ultimately, it worked out.
Because this was a "pick-up" gig, I had no idea who might be singing it, although I was told there were several Mannes College of Music opera students. The accompanying orchestra was also from Mannes, as were the two soloists. On hearing that the chorus was going to be comprised in part of opera singers, I was immediately concerned. The first rehearsal confirmed this; not only were several of the young women operatic singers, but they also didn't really know the music, although that didn't seem to stop them from singing everything full-blast. They also seemed to have no concept of tempo, dynamics, blend, etc. I was told that my "job" was to keep the tempo going, and try to provide some sort of "glue" to pull these voices together. I am not an operatic voice, so I knew I couldn't out-sing these women, at least volume-wise. In any event, I tried to do what I was asked to.
Rehearsals, no matter how well one knows a work, or how smoothly things go, are always tedious and laborious. And, you never really know how well a concert will go by how the rehearsals have gone. There is an old superstition that, if the dress rehearsal for a concert is BAD, the concert will be great. I have seen this happen. My personal belief is that when people are performing, the key is the audience. Being in front of an audience changes everything; adrenalin is pumping, you're more focused, you know you need to pay attention to the conductor, you're on a high-wire in some ways. This is one of the things that keeps me singing.
Another is that, apparently, I'm pretty good. Again, I'm not an operatic soprano, nor am I at this point at the level where I could earn a living singing. But as an "avocational" singer, I've been told I'm good; not only as a musician, but my voice is good, as well. I was surprised after the gig the other night when another singer who had been standing in front of me, a soprano, told me she loved my voice. Another woman then commented that I have a wide range (about 2 1/2 octaves or so), which really impressed her. I was honestly taken aback by this praise. I was just doing my "thing," singing with the tenors and altos during the rehearsals (to ground my voice), and then singing my part as best I could.
The problem, of course, is that I get involved in the groups I sing with in ways other than musical. This has been invariable; I join, I take on some small task, then pretty soon I'm involved with the Board or in some other substantial way in the operations of the group. And this always leads to problems: political or otherwise. If I could just stick to the singing, I'd be happy.
Maybe someday!
Catbird
I haven't written much about my singing here; this past year or so has been a difficult one in that area, both personally and in my general involvement with my chorus. It's these things that frequently make me question why I keep singing.
Then, I have a lovely night like last Saturday night. I was invited to participate in a "gig," a fundraiser for a medical condition called ARDS (Acute Respiratory Distress Syndrome). We were singing the Brahms "Requiem." I refer to this as a gig because I only had to show up for one rehearsal, the dress and the concert. No big pressure, a short schedule, in and out. No pay of course, but any time I get a chance to sing the Brahms with an orchestra, I'll take it.
I was called for this because someone told someone else that I was a "good" singer, and that I knew the Brahms. I'll take credit for the latter; I love the piece, and have sung it many times in concert, so have had the opportunity to memorize a lot of it, and work on subtleties like expressing the text (which is profound), understanding the entire concept of the work (which is complex) and really working on the musical nuances (which are many). I had some back and forth with the person who invited me as to the rehearsals I could attend, and ultimately, it worked out.
Because this was a "pick-up" gig, I had no idea who might be singing it, although I was told there were several Mannes College of Music opera students. The accompanying orchestra was also from Mannes, as were the two soloists. On hearing that the chorus was going to be comprised in part of opera singers, I was immediately concerned. The first rehearsal confirmed this; not only were several of the young women operatic singers, but they also didn't really know the music, although that didn't seem to stop them from singing everything full-blast. They also seemed to have no concept of tempo, dynamics, blend, etc. I was told that my "job" was to keep the tempo going, and try to provide some sort of "glue" to pull these voices together. I am not an operatic voice, so I knew I couldn't out-sing these women, at least volume-wise. In any event, I tried to do what I was asked to.
Rehearsals, no matter how well one knows a work, or how smoothly things go, are always tedious and laborious. And, you never really know how well a concert will go by how the rehearsals have gone. There is an old superstition that, if the dress rehearsal for a concert is BAD, the concert will be great. I have seen this happen. My personal belief is that when people are performing, the key is the audience. Being in front of an audience changes everything; adrenalin is pumping, you're more focused, you know you need to pay attention to the conductor, you're on a high-wire in some ways. This is one of the things that keeps me singing.
Another is that, apparently, I'm pretty good. Again, I'm not an operatic soprano, nor am I at this point at the level where I could earn a living singing. But as an "avocational" singer, I've been told I'm good; not only as a musician, but my voice is good, as well. I was surprised after the gig the other night when another singer who had been standing in front of me, a soprano, told me she loved my voice. Another woman then commented that I have a wide range (about 2 1/2 octaves or so), which really impressed her. I was honestly taken aback by this praise. I was just doing my "thing," singing with the tenors and altos during the rehearsals (to ground my voice), and then singing my part as best I could.
The problem, of course, is that I get involved in the groups I sing with in ways other than musical. This has been invariable; I join, I take on some small task, then pretty soon I'm involved with the Board or in some other substantial way in the operations of the group. And this always leads to problems: political or otherwise. If I could just stick to the singing, I'd be happy.
Maybe someday!
Catbird
Thursday, January 10, 2008
Going to the Dogs!
Dear Reader,
I'm a cat person. I've been a cat person since we got our first cat, a black stray who got caught in a piece of outdoor furniture, in 1961 or 62 when my family lived in Albuquerque, NM. This cat got the original moniker of "Kitty," and despite my Dad's grousing and my Mom's threats to take him to the pound every time we disobeyed her, he came with us when we moved to Newport, RI, via West Virginia. As a kid, I had no idea how difficult this was; as an adult, I credit my parents (especially Daddy, who built Kitty's travel cage from a milk crate) with having the heart to take him with us (in the car, no less!), rather than having him get "lost" as they easily could have done.
Sadly, Kitty was hit by a car a year or so after we got to Newport. Predictably, it was during one of the worst blizzards on record. Unpredictably, when Kitty came home, obviously injured, Daddy took him to the vet, in the blizzard, to see if he could be saved. He could not. We were only cat-less for a short time, though. Soon, we got Tommy, and a couple of others, and I have had cats as my primary pets almost continuously ever since.
As kids while we lived at home, in addition to cats we had the usual suburban zoo of other pets and guest animals: fish, turtles, mice, rats, rabbits, guinea pigs, ducks (little Easter ducklings who grew up), lizards of some sort, horses, and the occasional baby bird or other wild animal, who never survived, to great heartbreak. We never had a dog, however. We had a "guest" dog for a couple of weeks, a stray who ended up biting and who was taken to be "adopted." My youngest sister got a great dog, Bear, who was a yellow Labrador mix, at some point after I had moved away, and she was on the verge of doing so; he was sort of a family dog for several years until he ran away and never came back.
However, on my own, I have never had a dog as a pet; only cats. Make no mistake, either; I love my cats. I've gone through a few generations and a couple of major groupings. My first group was the 3 Amigos: Miss, Buddy and The Snotta. I acquired all of them in 1980, in various locations and under various (interesting) circumstances. They were a great crew, and as we went on, we became a little family. We were joined by Booboohead in 1990. Then age began to set in: Buddy died in 1993 of kidney disease; Miss went in 1995 from the long-term consequences of diabetes; The Snotta died in 1998 from the effects of a large, benign tumor in her abdomen.
In the meantime, I had taken in Winky, in 1995, after Miss died (owner didn't want her) and Kootie, in 1999 (again, owner didn't want her), after The Snotta died. I got Big Guy in 2000, when I saw him on Broadway in a cage, and decided I just had to have this cat. Nothing special; he looked like he could be Winky's BIG brother, and he had the most loving face, but no "breed" or "color." Just a regular guy, a Big Guy. The Booboohead died in 2003, of cancer of the jaw (inoperable). Winky died in October, 2006, of inoperable stomach cancer. Kootie and Big Guy continue in good health, although they should both be on diets. You try putting a cat (especially one who has ALWAYS weighed 20 pounds) on a diet!
But, over the last couple of years, I have come to know a great number of great dogs, and am starting to think about bringing a dog into the fold. This has been mostly due to my work out in the Park, and the dogs I've met have been mostly adult dogs, who have been trained and whose owners are loving and smart "parents."
I know that raising a dog from a puppy is difficult, and in some ways like raising a child, at least in terms of training the young one to be civilized. And, although I've had pretty good luck with adopting older cats (Winky was always skittish; Kootie hides under the bed for anyone but me; Big Guy is the perfect gentleman), I know that adopting an adult dog can be fraught with issues. Dogs seem to hang on to their pasts more than cats do, but again, I have met some terrific dogs who were adopted by their owners as adults, who have no issues at all.
Why would I want a dog? Well, although I know cats aren't really "moody," dogs, by contrast, are ALWAYS happy. Well, almost always. Once in a while a dog might be a little miffed because his owner isn't there, or because his dish is empty, but just as soon as his person comes in the door, or he gets some food in his dish, he's ecstatic again. Just look at a dog's face; some of the biggest smiles I've seen have been on pit-bulls, and other "scary" dogs.
Owning a dog requires one to get out of the house. Dogs don't do the "box" thing; they need to go au naturelle. In addition, of course, most dogs are too large to get sufficient exercise indoors; dogs need to run, jump and play, and they need social interactions with other dogs. They are, at base, pack animals, and I think their influence in many cases helps singular people have some social life. It's not as if I'm a troubled loner, but on the other hand, it wouldn't hurt to have some social interactions which weren't laden with other pressures, as are my work, chorus, and sometimes my Park encounters.
However, before I would take on the responsibility of dog ownership, I would (and continue to) think through both sides of the question. Could I regularize my schedule to walk a dog, and get him out to play enough? Doubtful at this point. Could I clear out enough stuff from my apartment to give a dog enough room to walk around comfortably? Not likely right now. Could Big Guy and Kootie deal with a canine baby sibling, or worse a doggy big brother? No way!
As with kids, I'll have to continue having a dog vicariously for now. Well, with kids, I don't have any other choice at the moment. With a dog, I'm going to take the responsible road, and not take one on until I am really equipped to do so. In the meantime, I love my cats, and am thinking about getting another one. That would fit better with where I am now. And I'll continue to enjoy the doggies out in the Park, around the neighborhood, in my building, and where ever else I run into them.
How much is that doggie in the window?
More later,
Catbird
I'm a cat person. I've been a cat person since we got our first cat, a black stray who got caught in a piece of outdoor furniture, in 1961 or 62 when my family lived in Albuquerque, NM. This cat got the original moniker of "Kitty," and despite my Dad's grousing and my Mom's threats to take him to the pound every time we disobeyed her, he came with us when we moved to Newport, RI, via West Virginia. As a kid, I had no idea how difficult this was; as an adult, I credit my parents (especially Daddy, who built Kitty's travel cage from a milk crate) with having the heart to take him with us (in the car, no less!), rather than having him get "lost" as they easily could have done.
Sadly, Kitty was hit by a car a year or so after we got to Newport. Predictably, it was during one of the worst blizzards on record. Unpredictably, when Kitty came home, obviously injured, Daddy took him to the vet, in the blizzard, to see if he could be saved. He could not. We were only cat-less for a short time, though. Soon, we got Tommy, and a couple of others, and I have had cats as my primary pets almost continuously ever since.
As kids while we lived at home, in addition to cats we had the usual suburban zoo of other pets and guest animals: fish, turtles, mice, rats, rabbits, guinea pigs, ducks (little Easter ducklings who grew up), lizards of some sort, horses, and the occasional baby bird or other wild animal, who never survived, to great heartbreak. We never had a dog, however. We had a "guest" dog for a couple of weeks, a stray who ended up biting and who was taken to be "adopted." My youngest sister got a great dog, Bear, who was a yellow Labrador mix, at some point after I had moved away, and she was on the verge of doing so; he was sort of a family dog for several years until he ran away and never came back.
However, on my own, I have never had a dog as a pet; only cats. Make no mistake, either; I love my cats. I've gone through a few generations and a couple of major groupings. My first group was the 3 Amigos: Miss, Buddy and The Snotta. I acquired all of them in 1980, in various locations and under various (interesting) circumstances. They were a great crew, and as we went on, we became a little family. We were joined by Booboohead in 1990. Then age began to set in: Buddy died in 1993 of kidney disease; Miss went in 1995 from the long-term consequences of diabetes; The Snotta died in 1998 from the effects of a large, benign tumor in her abdomen.
In the meantime, I had taken in Winky, in 1995, after Miss died (owner didn't want her) and Kootie, in 1999 (again, owner didn't want her), after The Snotta died. I got Big Guy in 2000, when I saw him on Broadway in a cage, and decided I just had to have this cat. Nothing special; he looked like he could be Winky's BIG brother, and he had the most loving face, but no "breed" or "color." Just a regular guy, a Big Guy. The Booboohead died in 2003, of cancer of the jaw (inoperable). Winky died in October, 2006, of inoperable stomach cancer. Kootie and Big Guy continue in good health, although they should both be on diets. You try putting a cat (especially one who has ALWAYS weighed 20 pounds) on a diet!
But, over the last couple of years, I have come to know a great number of great dogs, and am starting to think about bringing a dog into the fold. This has been mostly due to my work out in the Park, and the dogs I've met have been mostly adult dogs, who have been trained and whose owners are loving and smart "parents."
I know that raising a dog from a puppy is difficult, and in some ways like raising a child, at least in terms of training the young one to be civilized. And, although I've had pretty good luck with adopting older cats (Winky was always skittish; Kootie hides under the bed for anyone but me; Big Guy is the perfect gentleman), I know that adopting an adult dog can be fraught with issues. Dogs seem to hang on to their pasts more than cats do, but again, I have met some terrific dogs who were adopted by their owners as adults, who have no issues at all.
Why would I want a dog? Well, although I know cats aren't really "moody," dogs, by contrast, are ALWAYS happy. Well, almost always. Once in a while a dog might be a little miffed because his owner isn't there, or because his dish is empty, but just as soon as his person comes in the door, or he gets some food in his dish, he's ecstatic again. Just look at a dog's face; some of the biggest smiles I've seen have been on pit-bulls, and other "scary" dogs.
Owning a dog requires one to get out of the house. Dogs don't do the "box" thing; they need to go au naturelle. In addition, of course, most dogs are too large to get sufficient exercise indoors; dogs need to run, jump and play, and they need social interactions with other dogs. They are, at base, pack animals, and I think their influence in many cases helps singular people have some social life. It's not as if I'm a troubled loner, but on the other hand, it wouldn't hurt to have some social interactions which weren't laden with other pressures, as are my work, chorus, and sometimes my Park encounters.
However, before I would take on the responsibility of dog ownership, I would (and continue to) think through both sides of the question. Could I regularize my schedule to walk a dog, and get him out to play enough? Doubtful at this point. Could I clear out enough stuff from my apartment to give a dog enough room to walk around comfortably? Not likely right now. Could Big Guy and Kootie deal with a canine baby sibling, or worse a doggy big brother? No way!
As with kids, I'll have to continue having a dog vicariously for now. Well, with kids, I don't have any other choice at the moment. With a dog, I'm going to take the responsible road, and not take one on until I am really equipped to do so. In the meantime, I love my cats, and am thinking about getting another one. That would fit better with where I am now. And I'll continue to enjoy the doggies out in the Park, around the neighborhood, in my building, and where ever else I run into them.
How much is that doggie in the window?
More later,
Catbird
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