The Oppenheimer Report - 5/7/12

As Spring peeks through the grey clouds of the past week, I notice that we have some new visitors out on our lake. Two baby loons have taken up residence in the waters near our house and this makes me happy. With their beautiful markings and melodious call, loons are probably my favorite local birds. Unlike the noisy over population of Canadian geese, who honk incessantly and leave their piles of crap everywhere, loons are a welcome addition to our lake. They seem to thrive here, unlike some of the other lakes up here overrun with “personal watercrafts.” Apparently, the wakes from jet skis are tough on baby loons. I know what you’re thinking, that I’m acting like Katherine Hepburn in On Golden Pond. I have one thing to say you. Pooh! I’ve become a bird lover, which is something I never thought I‘d become. On the other hand, I am not a squirrel lover. Last week I received my “Yard Sentinel,” the latest in my so far ineffective arsenal of rodent-busting weapons. In my never ending squirrel eradication campaign, I am desperately grasping at all straws. The Yard Sentinel is an electronic device designed to emit an ultrasonic noise bothersome to rodents. I set it for the proper frequency, plugged it in a placed it out in the yard, but I think the f-ing thing is attracting them. It certainly isn’t not driving them away. And while I was expecting it to emit some inaudible high pitched sound, it makes noises like predatory birds. I could do that. No more Mr. Nice Guy, it’s time for Plan B. I’ll let you know what Plan B is when I figure it out.

Believe it or not, I have a big problem with animal abuse of any sort. In truth, I wouldn’t knowingly make even a squirrel suffer. A friend of ours down in Florida named Lois used to take in retired race horses and rehabilitate them, after which she placed them in good homes. It was a difficult job, because it was expensive (she barely made enough to cover her expenses), She had no help, and it was emotionally and physically taxing. Some of those horses had been badly abused. My mom and dad were avid equestrians but not big fans of horse racing, specifically because of the mistreatment of some of the animals. They felt many thoroughbreds were raced too young, before their bones were fully developed, and this caused sometimes fatal accidents. Last week I read a disturbing article in the NY Times about the problem, with the general message that the problem has escalated with the infusion of casino gambling money. With higher purses, there is more inclination for owners to put injured animals on the track, loaded up with painkillers and other drugs, and this has resulted in an astounding escalation in serious accidents and on-track euthanasia. All in all it’s dangerous for the jockeys and horribly cruel to the horses. Money talks and the horses suffer. As often happens, the regulatory agencies put in place to avoid this kind of animal cruelty have been ineffective, and it was actually the jockeys who finally made a stand. Everyone thinks in terms of the big races and assumes that most race horses are expensive, pampered animals. In truth, the majority of race horses are not big money makers, and stories of abuse to “claim race” horses, the lower end of the racehorse spectrum, are becoming more and more common.

Final notes. In the let’s-get-real department, there was a ferry disaster in Guwahati India, in the northeastern part of the country, wherein 103 drown when an overloaded ferry sunk in bad weather. I read about these accidents all the time, and it amazes me what is not considered hard news in America. Snookie’s expanding waist line and Newt Gingrich’s campaign debts are front page news in North America, but this tragedy rated one paragraph on some inside page of the NY Times. Can you imagine if that disaster had happened in America? It would certainly be front page news, and Elton John would write a song about it. Adam Yauch, a/k/a “MCA” and founding member of the seminal hip hop group The Beastie Boys died last week at 47 from a rare for of cancer of the salivary gland. I was never a fan of the band, but from what I’ve read about him post mortem, Yauch was a very interesting guy, and nothing like his onstage persona.

Gotta go … time to sharpen my hatchet and “get medieval” on some squirrels. Don’t worry, I’ll be humane and make it quick.

Written by Jamie Oppenheimer c2012 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED