Blue and Gold

I have watched my fathers hometown slide into graceful ruin over the past 50+ years. When I was a lad, there was a grocery store, tavern, cafes, filling stations, chicken hatchery, and telephone switchboard. The switchboard was replaced when the two sisters who ran it retired.

The tavern was abandoned and replaced with a liquor store sometime in the 50's. Two old buildings on the south side of the main street slid into decay, roofs and floors collapsing over the years, until by 1959 the only reminders were sunken lots and broken tile walls attached to the adjoining buildings. These tiles were colonized by sparrows and finches. I was fascinated by the chirping, fluttering chaos of those walls of a late summer evening. We had plenty of sparrows at home in Kansas, but nothing to compare with the yellow splash of the gold-finches.

I was reminded of those walls a couple of days ago when I looked out onto our backyard and saw a pair of gold-finches flitting around our blueberry cage. We lost all our berries last year when something nipped the blooms before they could germinate. We suspect bunnies or squirrels - since there was evidence of chewing on the bushes. So we built a cage - close spaced chicken wire around the perimeter, with a tomato cage panel on top. Our local squirrels are too chubby cheeked to fit through the tomato cage, so we felt reasonably safe. The blueberries blossomed and set buds - we counted up to a dozen little green swellings by mid may. Half a dozen of them had turned blue and bulbous by late May. We had one anxious morning when we saw blackbirds sitting on the cage. They eyed the situation carefully for a few minutes, but apparently decided not to risk getting trapped inside. Then, about two weeks ago, I noticed that the blues were gone - neatly trimmed at the calyx.

I watched the gold-finches - at first because they are an unusual sight in our neighborhood, but then because they hung around our cage. The female sat on the southern edge of the cage, while the male hopped about the northeast corner. Then he did a very finch-like maneuver and swung around his perch. Now he was holding onto the cage 'roof' but was inside! He stayed there for perhaps 15-20 seconds - obviously checking out something inside. I could see his head and neck moving, but otherwise have no clue what he found. He then swung back up and flew away. The female followed shortly.

I did a little research on finch foods. They are not known for berry picking. But we have obviously created a habitat that they are one of the few vertebrates capable of exploring. Cardinals, robins, starlings, and bluejays are more likely scavengers in our neighborhood. Still I am intrigued with the notion that we have created a puzzle favoring our more adventurous, and flexible, feathered friends.

1965 Impala

I am not nice to cars. I have ruined almost every car or truck I have owned. Some of this I can write off as inexperience in my callow youth. But, the truth is, I was ruining cars well into my 30's.

My first car was a 1965 Chevy Impala. It was sturdy, and held up to much abuse. Actually it was a tank. I got the car in 1969. I was a 22 year old college student and proud if myself for having talked the price down $500 by threatening to walk out of the dealers showroom. My first accident came after I owned the car about a month. I backed out of the driveway one morning and swung it around to face down the street. K. came out of the house waving her hands for me to stop, so I did. The Impala had a scratch on its rear fender, but my neighbors car had a significantly dented front end. From this incident I learned about insurance and to keep an eye out behind me. This same car succumbed to front end damage in the early 70's when I looked down to see what fell off the dashboard just as a tree entered my lane on 11th street. It finally succumbed to major abuse one weekend when I went to Kansas City. I drove over a curb in a fit of parking lot rage, bottomed out the front end and cracked the exhaust manifold. I must have also damaged the transmission, since I lost 3rd gear. So I roared back to Lawrence down highway 10 that night in 2nd gear. I sold it to a junkyard that same month.