Dogs Hold A Special Place in Our Hearts and Minds

                    

                                  Dogs Hold a Special Place in Our Hearts and MInds 

  The reasons for loving dogs are enthusiastic, eloquent, sometimes surprisingly scientific, and shared by some 66 million dog owners across the country. I am a believer not just because I have experienced daily life with two of these special companions in recent years, but because canines have profoundly shaped my understanding of others.  

At eight years old, I carved up my dad’s issue of National Geographic magazine.  My primitive scrapbook of pictured breeds convinced me that collies were the photogenic ideal. I certainly wanted one. The television premiere of Lassie in 1954 was an inspiration.  Unfortunately, my dad liked cats more. Also, a nip on my butt from the neighborhood German shepherd frightened me away.    

Even so, when I learned that our public library held shelves of novels about dogs, I voraciously consumed every one about collies authored by Alfred Payson Terhune. “Lad: A Dog” won my adolescent heart, and Jack London’s 1903 “Call of the Wild” captured my imagination. There is still no better way to learn to read for pleasure than to fall in love with an animal and make reading about it your passion.  

During this same period, tv and comic book canines proliferated.  I was captivated by Roy Rodger’s Bullet, Sergeant Preston’s Yukon KIng, the U.S Cavalry’s Rin Tin Tin and by the end of the 50’s Fred MacMurray’s Shaggy Dog.  To date, at least 152 different dogs have played important roles in movie and video land.  

Many years would pass before we would purchase a canine pet, but I was always fascinated by dogs and their owners.  I understand someone better if they own a dog and I can see how the dog reacts to them. Just to illustrate, 30 of our 47 presidents have kept dogs.  Most became beloved family members.  

Probably the best known was Fala, FDR’s Scottish terrier.  Throughout WWII, Fala became a news-fetching companion for the president who made no secret of his deep affection for the Scotty.  

Dogs sometimes become heroes because they selflessly save lives, especially during wartime.  Two legendary examples are Sergeant Stubby in WWI, a stray bull terrier who took part in 17 battles and even captured a German spy; and Chips in WWII who helped capture 10 Nazis in one day despite serious injuries.  

Dogs ingratiate themselves because they are either extremely trainable or bred for special purposes.   We see them routinely performing as drug sniffers, senior home visitors, therapy dogs, or seeing-eye dogs.  The most memorable example in my personal experience was a local deputy sheriff who trained and relied on three different dogs – a beagle who could sniff our paper currency, an arson dog who could sniff out minute traces of accelerant, and a blood hound who could track down escapees or runaways.   

Dogs and humans have been connected for at least 15,000 years.  The link is really a co-evolution where each species learned to benefit the other for survival and companionship.  Researchers suggest that when dogs and their owners interact, each experiences a biochemical surge of oxycontin, also known as the “love hormone”.  The mutual benefits are therapeutic and help to reduce anxiety, loneliness, and depression.   

Moreover, science suggests that dogs have a remarkable ability to empathize, that is, to read and respond to our body language and vocal expressions. Nor do they forget what they see.  One kind of memory is associative and immediate, thus explaining why they always perk up when we bring out that favorite toy.  Another sort of canine memory may last for years.  Witness how they remember and react to their owners or events after lengthy separations.  

I am convinced that the rewarding companionship of our wonderful pooches taught us more about ourselves than we ever thought possible. What seems to make dogs learn from us is just what we learn from dogs – how to express and reciprocate unconditional love.  

 

 

Inauguration of the Lusitania

By Jeffrey M. Bowen

(December 2017)

 

Somewhere as I half slept

An inauguration drifted.

 I dreamed of seas that moaned and wept,

By morning fog had lifted.

I thought it time to celebrate

A president’s arrival.

But then I choked and gasped “No, wait!”

The question is survival.

Democracy assures us  

That we still have a voice,

 But discord oozing like some pus

Reveals a fateful choice.

Arrogance is the lot we drew,

The facts we just ignore.

Hidden motives still abound,

And disguise events in store.

Somehow this seemed familiar,

As I drifted on the sea.

The sky was blue, the surface glass,

Thrown back a century.

 I floated with my jacket cinched,

Above I saw the towers

Of a massive ship still inching on,

Debris cast off in showers.

From her tilted decks it rained,

Life torn apart and screaming

Like some great animal in pain,  

Its entrails bloody streaming.

I felt so cold, cried out in vain,

As bodies floated round me,

I’d chosen Lusitania

And now the judgment bound me.

I thought my ship invincible,

So big, so fast, so vast,

But then what seemed unthinkable,

Became torpedo’s blast.

Because of warnings overlooked,

I thought I was protected,

But now I float amid the hooks

Of destiny infected.

Somehow I knew the time could come,

I knew we’d rue the day.

An inauguration struck us dumb,

Yet still we chose this way.

There’s no escape to safety,

My hopes have sunk like stones,

The Lusitania haunts me

 With the lessons in her bones.

 

The Lusitania sank in May 1915.

Donald Trump was inaugurated in January 2017.

 

 

A Rural State of MInd

 

A Rural State of Mind

A rural spot is much more than a location. It is a state of mind and feeling.  Having lived in the hilly farm country of western New York for three decades, my wife and I are dedicated believers in “ruralness”.  In retrospect, it took quite awhile to get there.

In the 1970s and 80s, we lived close to downtown Albany, near the shopping malls and the flight path of the airport.  Several times a day, the jets would rattle our windows, and their landing lights would flash on our house. We adapted to crowded bus rides to work, continuous traffic noise, weekend past times of shopping, and a tiny lawn hardly worth mowing.  We made the best of city living, but a rural future was something we yearned for.

Where and how I grew up explains a good deal of my abiding interest in rural life.  My dad took me hunting and fishing for years as I grew up in the Lakes Region of New Hampshire.  I matriculated at a rural college in the mountains of Massachusetts and learned in American studies that small-town life is woven through our country’s history.   

Many years later, as research director for a state association of school boards, I realized that upstate and downstate New York are different worlds in many ways.  Whenever I spoke to regional school boards, I was always impressed by the strong flavors of conservative practicality and self-reliance found upstate, often rooted in farming or traditional small businesses.

 There are confusing ways to classify rural places for economic and demographic purposes, but my favorite description is “sprawling open spaces, extensive agricultural production, and communities with vibrant histories”.  Eighty-seven percent of our land can be described this way.  A sparse 18 percent of our population lives there.

After 22 years of city living, we finally landed in the rural heart of western New York, where I eventually became superintendent of a school district of 12 towns and 250 square miles.  My wife became superintendent in a small adjoining district so we gained a comparative perspective.  In many respects our districts are outer suburbs of Buffalo, with a share of daily commuters to and from the city.  My district crosses four different counties, which creates multiple challenges of rural bureaucracy.  The schools out our way are really like community centers and support systems for services and activities.  One of my proudest accomplishments was to support construction of a multi-purpose barn for career and technical learning on the high school grounds. Our FFA (Future Farmers of America) is an award-winning multi-generational phenomenon.

Soon after we purchased a home several miles away from town, we discovered some of the peculiarities of being out in the country. Distance to the nearest medical facility and grocery stores became significant. So did the operation and maintenance of a well and septic system. Nighttime seemed darker, traffic passed infrequently, and winter whiteouts became an urgent topic of conversation. Seasonal festivals and county fairs, musical concerts and parades, and group yard sales are signal community events. The police blotter in our local weekly newspaper became a source of endless fascination.

In perspective, being fundamentally rural has a unique character of its own.  Especially in retirement, we have enjoyed enduring friendships, a relaxing and stress-free solitude, deep connections to the land and nature, changing seasons, and a sense that the incredible beauty and space of rural living had always been waiting for us.  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Mixed Messages of Common Sense

 The Mixed Messages of Common Sense 

By Jeffrey M. Bowen 

The features of common sense have always intrigued me because they seem so easy to identify but slippery to define.  Consider works of art in a museum.  A famous  painting may appeal because you would love it over your fireplace.  Another display shocks you because it consists of broken glass shards hung around a bare light bulb. The painting appeals to your common sense because you know what you like when you see it, hear it, or use it.  As for the glass shards, the big aesthetic idea may be to violate your expectations.  The truth is, nonsense to you may make great sense to someone else.    

Common sense appeals to me because I like to think I own more than a little of it.  Usually, it is a simple and reliable guide.  But I also realize that new discoveries and strange revelations often occur because they contradict our common sense.  Current media on the internet spews disinformation and propaganda to disrupt our commonsensible opinions.  

My interest in common sense is its potential connection to artificial intelligence (AI).  Will we ever be able to adapt common-sense models to the internet?  We are headed that way, but the big challenge may be empowering the predictions of the artificial mind to instantly shift technical gears based on intuitions and emotions.  Imagine the absurdity of an auto dealer who tells you that the latest model in their showroom has a special button called common sense.  It would activate your controls when you attach a sensor to your ear and press the button.  Don’t dismiss the idea too quickly because self-driving cars are already a reality.  

American history provides a compelling inspiration for my curiosity about common sense.  In April 1776, an essayist named Thomas Paine published a phenomenal 47-page booklet titled “Common Sense”.  The popularity of the essay, relative to the small size of the colonial population, make Paine’s reasons why the colonies should declare their independence from Britain one of the most influential written statements in our history. 

Just a few months after its publication, the Continental Congress adopted our Declaration of Independence, with its opening sentence, “We declare these truths to be self-evident...” Common sense, right? Ironically, in the same sentence we endorse the idea that all men are created equal.   Centuries later we still struggle with the implications.   

 The echoes of our forefathers can be heard in deep suspicions of authoritarian elites and undemocratic dictatorships.  Our citizens prefer authentic experience and verifiable proof.  What is more, constitutional democracy provides a guaranteed framework of legal protections that assure our right to vote and stabilize our ship of state.   

The bedrock is common sense: that is, our ability to make sound, reasonable judgments and decisions based on simple and practical knowledge.     

Evidence can be found at the checkout counter of many bookstores, where you will find books full of advice like “Life’s Little Instruction Book’” or “Don’t Sweat the Small Stuff.”   Most of the self-help advice is common sense.  It is revealing for what it says about our culture and traditions.  Some is basic; for example, don’t walk into traffic or touch live wires.  Other statements recognize being polite, like saying please, thank you, and even putting the cap back on your toothpaste before someone else in your household uses it.   

Homey examples like this do not mean that common sense has been overlooked in the academic world.  One familiar theory is called the cognitive continuum. At one end are reflective and intuitive judgments.  At the other end is rationality. In between are combinations, for instance using a rationale to justify intuition.  

Daniel Kahneman, a Nobel Prize winner in economics, has become famous for explaining these two co-existing systems of thinking.  The first (system 1) works fast and intuitively, without thinking.  It emphasizes first impressions and can either save us in an emergency or reveal sudden opportunities. When you apply a rule of thumb and screen out extraneous information, you are exercising your intuition.   

On the other hand, a rational thinker (system 2) weighs the odds more carefully and is less willing to take risks before reasoning through all of the alternatives.  If time is available, and an issue is not truly complex, this kind of thinking prevents too many disastrous mistakes.  Yet it can become expensive, and more background knowledge may be needed.  

 Interestingly, “deliberation without attention” has strong merits when the number of choices is restricted, and a pattern of previous decisions can be applied.  Too much conscious thought may not produce the best result.  

The value of intuition, when mated with common sense, depends on the situation.  Complications arise when personalities, including emotions and biases come into play.  On balance, gut feelings, are often as effective as lengthy analysis.  But it is sensible to pay heed to the mixed messages of common sense.  You may encounter either a garden of truth or a mine field of lies. The key is not to follow intuition blindly, and never to underestimate it.