A Quick Hello From Phoenix

by Charline from Arizona

In this concrete jungle known as Phoenix many of you may wonder what we do for relaxation. Allow me to share. On those rare days when the temperature gauge actually rests on that teeny line separating our “hot” versus “hell” months many of us venture outside. Where better to go than the zoo? I recently managed to cajole one of my friends into going along but sadly we forgot it was Valentine’s Day. We crested the last small hill which had kept the zoo hidden and came face to face with its overflowing parking lot. I briefly contemplated returning another day but we were already there and I was eager to see the animals. In locating a parking spot we were lucky enough to witness an “almost” altercation between two muscle bound hunks. The one was saving an empty space with his vehicle; the other was irate he could not have it. Temperatures have not even reached triple digits yet and already tempers are flaring.

Once inside I grabbed a map even though I didn’t really need it. I know the zoo like the back of my hand. I hurried off to visit one of my favorite exhibits, the Black Tailed Prairie Dogs. They are nothing if not predictable. As usual they were eating although I was unsure if this was breakfast, snack, elevensies or just plain lunch. I am fairly certain they are somehow related to hobbits. They are small, have hairy feet, are plump in the middle, and they love to eat.

“Recycling” took on new meaning at the Golden Eagle / Common Raven exhibit. An empty toilet paper roll was being carried around by a massive raven because the center was now filled with food. In case you were not aware, felines are not the only animals that “cat-nap.” The coyotes and Mexican wolves were also doing a great job of this. For the record “out of sight, out of mind” does not hold true at the zoo. The emptier the enclosure, the more determined people were to find its inhabitant. Consequently various sticks, stones, and even a few cacti became the elusive “animal.” I could have spent hours with the squirrel monkeys but apparently so could everyone else. I never really heard people go completely gaga before until about forty of them all noticed (at the same time) a squirrel monkey scratching its tail. The Hamadryas Baboon sitting alone on her log reminded me of a wizened old man. Truthfully I think she was just irate because the male was hogging the rest of their enclosure. The otters were out cavorting with reckless abandon; able to hold everyone’s attention until the onlookers realized they could go ride a camel. Definitely healthier than smoking one!

Also, in watching those around me I did notice collars on polo shirts are once again standing up. People! Please! There is a reason this trend ended! Finally, many of you may be familiar with “mini me” from the second and third “Austin Powers” movies? Well, I saw the three foot five inch “mini” version of Lou Ferrigno’s “The Hulk” today. What can I say? It was the hair! Whenever I saw him I idly wondered if he would become enraged, turn green, start growling, and lose his clothes.

All in all it was a great day at the zoo!

In sports, January 29^th was a sad day for the Arizona Cardinal’s organization and Cardinal fans since Kurt Warner announced his retirement. Warner comes across as a man who sticks to his decisions so I doubt that we here in Arizona will suffer through any “is he retiring, is he not” drama. A possible downside might be that Warner’s solid decision may not land him any Superbowl commercials like Hyundai’s comical vision of “Brett Favre Ten Years Later.” The upside is that Warner will definitely be remembered for his playing skills and not how many times he wavered back and forth about retiring. Let’s hope that Matt Leinart is capable of filling the rather sizeable shoes Warner leaves behind.

Lastly, I would like to take a moment to pay tribute to Gilbert police officer, Lt. Shuhandler, who died in the line of duty on the night of January 28^th. The tragic event started as a routine traffic stop but did not end until over an hour later; more than fifty miles from where it all began. I would ask that we remember these uniformed men and women place themselves in harms way every day in order to offer us protection and uphold the laws of our country. Maybe next time we see one of them we can take the time to treat them with thankfulness and let them know they matter!

Charline Ratcliff, author

www.thecurseofnefertiti.com

Cockfighting in Kentucky

by Tony from Kentucky

Animal cruelty is always a hot button issue in this country. From local issues to Micheal Vick Americans don't accept cruelty to animals. The state of Kentucky however is divided on one animal cruelty issue, cockfighting. For those not familiar with the practice sharp, knife-like blades are attached to the talons of roosters. Roosters by nature will fight when put together, so when raising chickens only one rooster is needed per group of hens. After attaching the blades the roosters are placed in a round concrete pen and allowed to fght to the death. This type of activity draws large amounts gambling, drug activity, and often the illegal trade of guns. In the state of Kentucky this horrific abuse is listed as a mis-demeanor with a maximum of a $500 dollar fine. According to reports in The Mt. Sterling Advocate, Montgomery County, which has a large cock-fighting arena that would rival many boxing venues, receives in excess of 1 millon dollars a year from hotel, restaraunt and other business activities.

Although the venue was taken down by state law enforcement two years ago, a Louisiana organization has reopened the facility due to the lax laws. They are more than willing to pay the fines and report the income. Local law enforcement turns a blind eye and the local mayor of Jeffersonville, another Montgomery County town in which the venue actually resides, has stated his approval of the activity due to the great financial benefit to the local economy. Currently the Kentucky state legislature is looking into making the activity a felony but until then, the practice will continue.

New Mexico Update - 2/4/10

by Jess from New Mexico

Reading through the surrounding blogs, it seems a blanket of snow has covered the entire country in its wintery shawl. All over sleepy little towns, people are slipping and sliding and driving at 20 miles an hour to work. New Mexico is no exception. Our fair, irregularly shaped state is getting school closures, delays and early releases almost twice a week now and drivers reluctantly leave their homes to slide through red lights on Cerillios Road. But, although we're not truly versed in the ways of winter, we do not complain. Instead we put on our game faces and hats with pom poms and we go up to the Santa Fe Ski Basin. These days the slopes are mobbed with inexperienced snowboarders, average skiiers and daredevils with wide grins venturing down some of the more intense slopes like Molly Hogan and Lower Wizard.

The Santa Fe Ski Basin, located up the wibbliest-wobbliest road in town, is the perfect place to learn how to become one with the snow. For the youngins, there's a great Ski School. Located up the double seated chairlift are some adorable bunny slopes and up the quad are some great intermediates i.e. Muerte and Midland. And for those feeling adventurous there's the triple lift which leads to fantastic views (Gayway) or a long, challenging mogul run (Roadrunner). Don't fit into the aforementioned categories? Well for those who don't feel like faceplanting into a mogul is enough punishment and would rather ski into a tree, there are runs like Big Rocks (a properly named run which resembles closer a sign pointing to a forest then a regulation run).

For those in New Mexico who love to glide upon the surface of the snow they go to the Santa Fe Ski Basin. For those who prefer requiring a parachute to ski, they go to Taos. In short, New Mexico is a great place for snow sports.

Arkansas Update - 2/1/10

by Doctor Perry from Arkansas

For the past few years I have awaken from my nightly slumber in the exact same way; a reluctant opening of one eye and then the other, a drunken stumble from the bed to the living room, and a glance out the window at the world around me. Each morning I partake in this ritual and yet I almost always see the same thing: nothing. The highway is quiet so early in the morning and not even the most insomniac-stricken peoples are out yet. And still I stare at the empty landscape, sighing at the blank view of asphalt that runs across the edge of my land. The sun has not yet risen but it’s already hot. It’s always hot.

But not today. When I peered, half-asleep, out that dirty glass window early last week I found a bizarre sight. Through the glass, frosted with ice, I saw not the usual dull brown and reds of the country, but an amazing world of bright whites and beautiful, shining snow painted over my land. Somehow, and I still haven’t quite figured it out, my hot, sticky, lazy town had been replaced with a vibrant, gorgeously breathtaking one. I was astonished. I was so excited, in fact, that I immediately ran out to greet the new alien planet I had discovered. This, I soon learned, was a bad idea.

What had at first appeared to be a gift from the gods soon became the most terrible curse I could imagine. Sure the snow is beautiful, and sure the children love the stuff. But as soon as I darted outside, running across the lawn like a schoolchild toward a candy store, I understood the horrors of winter weather. My feet were suddenly no longer attached to the ground. What blasphemy was this? My arms were flailing about wildly and I seemed to be floating. But I was not floating. I was falling. And it hurt.

Since that initial slip I have fallen at least a dozen times; on the stairs, on the sidewalk, in my driveway. Even my loyal dogs seem to be standing in specific areas strategically mapped to cause me to trip and fall. I can’t walk, I can’t run, and I can barely drive. Yes, we get it; snow is pretty. But is it really worth me risking a broken bone every time I go outside? I think not. So I’m begging you, anyone who has the power to do so, speed up global warming! Make the skies rain fire! Burn the earth! Whatever it takes to end this nightmare, I beg you to do it.

Please, set the planet on fire now, before someone gets hurt!

Civil Rights Protest Site Opens As Museum

by Josh from North Carolina

On February 1, 1960, four African-American college students, Franklin McCain, Ezell Blair, Jr., David Richmond, and Joseph McNeil, began a sit-in at an all white lunch counter in Greensboro, North Carolina. Six months later, it ended with successful desegregation, blacks and whites finally sharing the same eating space. The Greensboro Four protest, as it came to be called, is widely considered as one of the seminal acts of Southern civil rights. Forty-nine years later, the former F.W. Woolworth five and dime whose events ignited similar sit-ins across the South has been transformed into the International Civil Rights Center & Museum (http://www.sitinmovement.org/home.asp).

Containing many preserved 1929 Woolworth architectural details, including terrazzo floors and an art deco staircase, as well as featuring the original contested stools and counter as its focal point, the center is a repository of historical documents and artifacts relating to the struggle for civil rights. The 30,000 square foot complex houses fourteen permanent exhibits, a state of the art auditorium, traveling exhibits, and an archival center. Notable artifacts on display include a 1950s era bus seat signed by Rosa Parks; a rare two-sided Coke machine, one meant for blacks, the other for whites; and a pen used by President Lyndon Johnson to sign the National Voting Rights Act of 1965 (http://www.usatoday.com/travel/destinations/2010-01-28-international-civil-rights-center_N.htm). The museum’s stated purpose is to provide a place “to witness, to experience and to discuss how to affect social change in our own nation and around the world.” (http://www.sitinmovement.org/home.asp)

Greensboro is the third-largest city in North Carolina, and elected its first African-American mayor, Yvonne Johnson, in 2007.

Doors open February 1, 2010. Admission is $8 for adults, $6 for students and seniors, and $4 for children aged 6-12 (under 6 are free).