November 2018 – Stone Fig

Thanksgiving Road Trip

Sometimes to get where you want to go you take a drive. Road Trip! Those two words often bring joy and always bring excitement. And it’s not just the family dog that gets excited; everyone does! Whatever the destination, it’s an adventure waiting to happen. It’s the enjoyment of something new.

As important as the destination is to the road trip, it’s just as important to first get on the road. But what happens when even the first stage doesn’t come together?

The goal of a recent road trip was to reach the rocky coast of Rhode Island. It was going to be crowded on the roads, but my goal was worth the trouble. I planned to walk along that rocky coast and watch the sun come up over the Narragansett Bay. There are several trails in the area that I count as favorites, but this time I was going to try a new path. I had heard it led across the rocks to a precipice overlooking the Bay.

It was Tuesday. I had been planning all week to get on the road after work and head north. It was going to be a two-day drive. And I knew that I’d have a lot of company on the road since it was Thanksgiving week. I had plans for where to stay in Rhode Island, but I would decide where to spend the first night when I was on the road. If I was able to get in three to four hours of good driving, the second day on the road would be easier.

Leaving at 5:30PM would mean pulling off the road around 9:00PM. Then on Wednesday I’d have a short drive up the I-95 corridor in New England. That stretch of road can often be a bear so I decided giving myself plenty of time was best. There was no need to be in a rush, especially when rushing is often not possible due to traffic. But it turned out that getting out of – or in this case onto – my driveway was the first and greatest hurdle.

Our second car was parked on the street. We were having some improvements made to our house and the garage was being used for storing equipment and material. The project was almost completed so now there was room for me to move this second car into the garage before we left. I had moved that car around the block several times to keep it out of the way of the workers and their vehicles. And therein lay my problem.

Everything was ready. The bags were packed. The food was in the cooler. Maps were in the back seat. And we were right on schedule. All that needed to be done was to put the car in the garage, and we could be on our way. I got into the car and turned the key – and nothing. Not a wheeze, not a whimper, was to be heard from the car. I was stunned. I tried again, but nothing. And I tried again with the same results. The perfect plan for an escape before the major push of traffic was falling apart.

Several phone calls later and following the arrival of a service truck, the car was running. I had forgotten that the battery in the car was drained a little bit each time I started it over the last several weeks. And since I only drove it around the block, the battery never had a real chance to recharge. Even if I pushed the car into the garage, I would have the same problem when I returned and wanted to drive it out of the garage.

The service truck driver got us started, but now two hours had passed. Traffic was building up in front of me. To the hours lost I now had to add half an hour of driving the car around to make sure the battery was completely charged. This done, I put the car in the garage. Now we were nearly three hours behind our carefully planned schedule.

But when I reached into my plan – figuratively speaking – to salvage it, the best part of the plan that I could grab hold of was the flexibility we had worked into it. When we had decided on the trip we knew that our final destination was over a day away. We knew we would have to spend the night on the road, but now how far would be get?

FLEX-I-BIL-I-TY! It’s got to be your middle name on a road trip! Especially at the beginning.

There are many parts to a road trip, and like a story there is a beginning, a middle, and an end. For us the beginning was almost the end – or so we thought. But helpful people on the phone and a helpful service truck driver and our (reach deep for it) patience allowed us to get to the middle. We made it. We arrived in Rhode Island and had a good walk. We stood on the precipice and looked over the bay. It was cold, but there was little wind and the bay was as calm as a mill pond. The sun rising over the distant rocks and turning the surface of the dark water to shimmering reds and golds was well worth the trouble.

At the end we got home safely. May we all!

Yes, the car in the garage started right up!

Enjoy the road. Enjoy the trip. And always be flexible.

Frosty Morning

What it’s like going out to a bird survey station in the late Fall before the sun comes up.

It’s DARK !

It’s quiet.

It’s cold.

There’s the sound of the frosted grass crunching under your feet as you walk up the hill.

It’s the frosty haze from your breath.

It’s your heart beat as the loudest thing you can hear.

It’s thinking that your backpack is too heavy with too much stuff.

It’s passing the old family cemetery.

It’s stumbling on a root that you’ve stepped over 1,000 time before.

It’s the little bird flying up in front of you as you pass its roosting place in the grass.

It’s your heart rate speeding up.

It’s stopping and standing and listening and hearing the exhale of the Earth.

It’s seeing Venus brighter than you’ve ever seen her.

It’s losing the path and stopping to try to find your way.

It’s finding the path.

It’s thinking that you hear something.

It’s reaching the summit.

And it’s setting down your chair – and sitting in it.

It’s relaxing to the point of being in the dark like everything around you.

It’s looking up and seeing stars you can’t see from your house.

It’s your heart rate slowing down.

It’s knowing that no one else is out there – it’s just you.

It’s recognizing Orion and Spica in Virgo.

It’s having a cup of hot coffee from the thermos you carried in your back pack.

It’s hearing a night hawk close by.

It’s sitting quietly and watching the eastern sky brighten as dawn comes.

It’s waiting – for what you’re not sure.

It’s seeing a deer cross the top of the distant hill.

It’s seeing a fox come out of the underbrush and look at you.

It’s wondering what the fox may think.

It’s seeing the hill and the woods go from grays to the golden browns and reds of the Fall.

It’s knowing that the persimmons can be eaten – if you can find them.

It’s hearing the first bird sing out – and an answer.

It’s recognizing the bird song from your youth.

It’s thinking about what you need to do that day.

It’s the excitement of hearing the bird call you are seeking.

It’s seeing the sun come up.

It’s realizing that what you’re doing now is as good as it gets.

It’s lingering in the early light.

It’s walking down the hill in the morning sun.

It’s saying a prayer for the whole world on a frosty morning.

CLICK-Bait

We all do it. It’s an easy way to waste some time.

Ohhh – there’s an interesting picture – “CLICK!”

We have taken the bait.

We all spend time on the internet. Perhaps we are online for work or for a hobby or to volunteer – or even just to pass an idle hour – or rather 5 minutes. An idle hour is too much.

If you are like me, you may wander away from your stated purpose every now and then. Sometimes I search odds-and-ends while I take a break between work sessions. However, those times that we wander through the endless, enticing corridors of the web may cause us to become stuck in a sticky trap. But we should be able to extract ourselves shortly after a few laughs, or a pleasurable moment or two of letting our mind wander.

I use these times that I wander on the internet as cool-downs between work session. It’s like playing solitaire. I can do it without putting much thought into it and so can also be thinking about a project that I’m working on. I always find it relaxing and often helpful.

A lite search for articles on “Click Bait” (Cbt) turned up several including one from Wired and one from Forbes (links below). Both spoke in unflattering terms of the problems with Cbt and how it distracts us. The articles both start with a focus on what the Cbt headlines states and how that makes us react. I would challenge this and say that is true if we are letting Cbt use us, but what we need to do is empower ourselves to use the Cbt to our own advantage.

The two referenced articles have a scientific basis and speak to studies conducted by the authors and by others. I make no such claim. This article is not based on a study, scientific or otherwise. It is based on what I like. Wait – have I fallen into the Cbt paradigm? The Cbt invitation classically uses emotions to get me to click. But why do they want me to click in the first place. It could be – but I highly doubt this – the author/owner of the click bait-able article just wants me to have a moment of fun. What I do believe is that there is some algorithm running behind the article that knows who I am. OK, that may sound somewhat paranoid, but I feel (not a scientific word) that there is some merit in the statement. Let’s see. How do the sites that post the Cbt make money? Yes, making money is a strong incentive for baiting the silken trap. They make money by having me look at my computer screen, because next to the picture of the kitten or the article that claims “THIS WILL MAKE YOU A MILLIONAIRE” – is an ad. Maybe the ad is for shoes or for dog food or for vacations, but there is an ad. When I open the webpage and see the ad, someone is making money. But I have to say, “That’s OK”, because I clicked on the Cbt because I wanted to – a mild distraction in the middle of a busy day.

But what else has happened? The algorithm – not one you can dance to – that is embedded behind the article says, Billy has just looked at a picture of shoes; Billy must want SHOES! I am sure that you notice that once you have bought a pair of shoes on line – or looked at some shoes on line – suddenly there are ads all over your screen about shoes and where to buy them. “They” know what I’m looking at. No Kidding! I firmly believe that whenever I willingly do something on the internet that it is being noticed and recorded and sorted and added to the profile of ME.

So, what do “they” know. First, they know where I live. Maybe not this apartment on this street but the area. My ISP tells them this whenever the algorithm sees my IP address. So what else do they want to know? They want to know my demographics. They want to know how old I am and how much I money I make. You see the bait all the time, “What was the most popular tree the year you were born.” No one cares what tree you like, but if they can find out your age bracket that is gold for marketing to me. And then there are questions like, “What is the most fun you can have in your tax bracket?”, e.g., questions from which your response will imply your income. Bingo – now they know where you are, how old you are, and how much – in general terms – you make. Now they want to know your gender. I don’t see too many headlines – or bait lines – that ask outright, What is your gender? But many times, if you enter the web and start looking around it’s the big algorithm in the web that perhaps can deduce what your gender is. And now they have it all – because you gave it to them. Willingly.

As we blunder through the internet it’s always good to recall Mary Howitt’s memorable line, “Will you walk into my parlour? Said the spider to the fly.” You are invited in not because they want to entertain you – but to use you, to sell you stuff.

So where is the fun in that? The fun is in turning the tables – or trying to turn the tables – on them. Deny them the information. First, don’t care about the tree that was the favorite in the year you were born. But do care about what helps you relax. Take a look at a cat if you want. Look at pictures of the 50 best national parks. The internet knowing you like kittens or that you like being outside is more or less ok. Especially if it uses that information to send you pictures of cats (which evidently you like) and articles about being in the woods (which is a passion). But watch the ads change as you go. You will see cat food and pet products replace the ads for shoes that used to line you screen. And perhaps you will see more scenic views of national parks.

But remember the closing lines of Mary Hewitt’s fable of the spider and the fly.

And now dear little children, who may this story read,
To idle, silly, flattering words, I pray you ne’er give heed:
Unto an evil counsellor, close heart and ear and eye,
And take a lesson from this tale, of the Spider and the Fly.

It’s a game we play with the algorithm. How much can I enjoy without telling it more than I should? So be aware.

Now what do you think of these shoes?

The articles reference above:

Bryan Gardiner’s article in Wired Magazine – https://www.wired.com/2015/12/psychology-of-clickbait/

Jayson DeMers’ article in Forbes – https://www.forbes.com/sites/jaysondemers/2017/07/26/is-clickbait-dying-or-stronger-than-ever/#6d291b3f3dac

The Mary Howitt’s poem The Spider and the Fly may be found at – https://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-spider-and-the-fly-4/