T. Buckingham Thomas

MAY 20, 2015
NOE BAER LITTERASY!

Last week, a juvenile bear was found exploring the suburb of Monroeville, 15 miles south of here.

The state game commission was alerted. So were the news media; these images are from KDKA-TV.

UPDATE: After more than 1,000 National Park Service employees were fired in February 2025 as part of the Trump administration's insistence on cutting federal expenditures, the residents of the parks realized that they needed to pitch in to take up the slack.

One bear was ambling down a road. (Click the picture for video.) Apparently somebody had cut a corner too close and knocked over an orange traffic cone, which was now lying on its side. Obviously, the bear thought, this isn't right. So she walked up to the base of the cone and put down a paw to make sure the object wouldn't slide toward her. Then she leaned down, grasped the cone with her teeth, and pulled it toward herself. With the traffic safety device now restored to uprightness, all was well, and the bear resumed her stroll.

In recent years I've been hearing about their opposite: substances that actually aid bacteria — but only the beneficial bacteria, such as those in our digestive system. Naturally, these products are called PRObiotics.

And now we have two more biotics. PREbiotics are fiber supplements that further encourage the probiotics. And if “pre” exists, does that imply that “post” exists as well? Yes, it does! POSTbiotics are substances produced by probiotics acting upon prebiotics. The Cleveland Clinic says that some of them, like the butyric acid found in rancid butter, “can be made into products or treatments that would have a healing effect on people.” Would have a healing effect, not do have a healing effect? Hmm.

I'm sorry, I misspaced. It appears that some products do contain nootropics. Allegedly they “reverse your biological age” (from 7 2 to 2 7 ?) by boosting mental clarity and “balancing energy levels,” whatever that means.

MAY 14, 2025 JABBERWOCK

Lewis? Lewis Carroll? What ... what are those slithy toves doing??? And art all thy borogoves mimsy?

See this month's 100 Moons article. ’Tis bryllyg!

Fifty years ago this month, I graduated from Richwood High School. Our Class of 1965 broke the mold. The authorities, despairing that any better class would ever come along, retired the school’s name. By that fall it had become North Union High School.

Next month we’re holding our 50-year reunion. It'll be a time to get together, catch up with each other, and talk about old times — including some youthful moments we might prefer not to relive.

To reassure us, class president Ed Olson (left) told an embarrasing story on himself a few months ago via e-mail.

Here's Ed's tale, to which I've added images from our junior and senior yearbooks.

I remember the Homecoming Dance of ’63 during our junior year. At that time, I had developed a teenage crush on Kay Clevenger (right), who was a senior.

I was sitting in the senior class section of the auditorium / gym at RHS listening to the melodious tones from the “Sunset Serenaders” from Pharisburg, Ohio, with their talent lineup of a drummer, a piano player, some guy on a bass or guitar ...

and our journalism teacher, Miss LeVan (left), on the saxophone.

I can still remember the band leader announcing, “And the next number is a ladies’ choice.”

Kay Clevenger walked off the gym floor and started up the steps. I could have sworn that we made eye contact.

She got a little closer and smiled. I smiled back, with my heart having passed the throat and continuing to ascend into my mouth.

As she reached the row where I was sitting, I stood up to accept her invitation.

Unfortunately, it was not until then that I realized Dick Hill (senior football / basketball / track star and all-around heartthrob for many RHS girls) was in the row behind me, also standing.

As Kay and Dick descended the stairs, there was only one way to save face. I started brushing my trousers as if they had become bunched up while I was sitting.

So, you see, even if there are memories you want to forget from high school, I can top yours.

Fortunately, when our senior prom came around the next year, the theme was “Arabian Nights,” and Ed found a beautiful girl who wanted to dance with him.

We don't often experience hurricane-strength gales around here, but unusually heavy storms of wind and rain swept through my region after 5:00 pm on Tuesday, April 29. AccuWeather called it a derecho. A gust of 71.3 miles per hour was the third strongest ever recorded at Pittsburgh International Airport.

More than half a million homes were affected by power outages, including my home, I guess. My electricity went off, but only for a short time: less than ten seconds.

After that, things soon calmed down. From my kitchen window I could see that a couple of yard chairs were no longer in their usual locations.

Some 90 yards away, a tree and a shed had fallen across Buxton Lane, a 130-yard-long alley that provides access to the backs and garages of a dozen houses.

Trees can't be removed until utility crews ensure that any fallen power lines are safe. Buxton is of low priority, so the alley wasn't cleared until Friday evening.

On Wednesday, the day after the storm, Pittsburgh's mayor declared an emergency. Fifty public schools were closed and 120 city roads were inaccessible.

I was able to navigate the suburbs with little trouble except for the fact that some traffic signals were dark. Pittsburgh Post-Gazette columnist Adrianna E. Ramírez wrote, “every intersection where the lack of electricity prevented the stoplights from working, I found myself grateful as we took turns, signaling carefully and moving with caution, respectful of one another.... The best stories are the ones of how we made it back to one another long after the storm.”

Weeklong repairs, according to West Penn Power spokesman Todd Meyers, were a “tremendous effort” involving thousands of line workers from more than 18 states. On the morning of May 6, West Penn reported that their last storm-related customer outage was restored, but around 4,400 Duquesne Light customers were beginning their seventh day without electricity.

On roadsides and in the woods, we may still be seeing branches and other remains of downed trees for months.

Local media are always in search of news, including stories about things that haven't happened yet. The media rejoiced a year ago when Pittsburgh was selected as the future site for the 2026 National Football League Draft.

We're expecting more than half a million visitors from out of town, the largest such happening in Pittsburgh's history.

For the past 12 months and also the next 12 months, every story mentioning improvements Downtown or on the North Shore or even at a suburban hotel must include a reference to the way that infrastructure upgrades and NFL Draft events will help promote the city's image.

Another topic that has been popping up with tiresome regularity is Real ID. You see, the United States, unlike most nations, does not have a national photo ID card. According to Wikipedia, “All legislative attempts to create a national identity card have failed due to tenacious opposition from liberal and conservative politicians alike, who regard the national identity card as the mark of a totalitarian society.” Halt! Show us your papers!

Therefore, we have to get by with alternatives. For weeks, local newscasts have been repeatedly urging us to obtain Real ID cards.

If you've somehow missed the explanation, these are ordinary driver's licenses with little gold stars in the corner, indicating that the identity information thereon has been verified from documents like birth certificates and W-2s and utility bills.

The cards cost an extra $30. Less than a thrd of Pennsylvanians have one. (Although they're evidence that you are who you say you are, they don't prove you're a U.S. citizen with the right to vote or the right not to be deported to Venezuela.)

“Hey, government: No!
You already gave me an ID.
If it's fake, you fix it.”
–Michael Longfellow on Saturday Night Live

Reacting to September 11, 2001, when terrorists hijacked airplanes, Real IDs were supposed to be required nationwide in order to board flights on domestic airlines or to enter nuclear power plants and certain federal buildings. The original deadline for that requirement was 17 years ago. Now today, on May 7, 2025, the requirement has finally arrived.

Often, a woman has difficulty obtaining a Real ID because the name on her birth certificate is no longer the name that she's using. She needs to present either a marriage certificate or a court order for a name change. A marriage license merely grants government permission to wed a few days later, so that's not good enough. Many folks discover that fact only after waiting in a long line at the PennDOT driver license center.

However, most people can postpone that visit to the license center. The much-hyped cutoff date is a TSA deadline, not a PennDOT deadline.

And it's not even a hard deadline. Yesterday, Homeland Security Secretary Kristi Noem told a Congressional panel that those who still lack an identification that complies with the Real ID law “may be diverted to a different line, have an extra step.” That may require an extra hour or so, according to TSA officials. “But people will be allowed to fly. We will make sure it's as seamless as possible and that travelers will get to stay on their intended itinerary.” She did say the agency is still committed to enforcing the law but did not say whether that enforcement will eventually become more stringent.

The passing of the deadline today merely affects TSA procedures for boarding a plane. It does not mean that Real ID cards will no longer be available from PennDOT. Only a minority of folks are frequent fliers, and if you know you aren't going to fly anywhere until, say, Thanksgiving, you can wait to get your card until, say, Labor Day.

• I've never changed my name.
• I've already had a Real ID since 2021, the last time I renewed my driver's license.
• I have a passport which will also confirm my identity.
• I haven't flown since 2007. After that, all my jobs were within driving distance. Having now retired, I have no plans to fly in the future.

So I've been ignoring the warnings in the media. Presumably after today, they'll halt!

Some folks cry at emotional scenes in movies. I don't, usually. What does bring tears to my eyes?

Watching the amazing Alysa Liu skating to the 2025 world championship, with her immigrant father (right) cheering her on.

Also, hearing a performance of Sergei Rachmaninoff's Prelude in C-sharp minor, which reminded me of the time when as an eighth-grader I performed a simplified version on the upright piano in the school cafeteria.

I learned about Southland Ice Company director Jodie Thompson in an episode of the History Channel series The Food that Built America. In 1927 Dallas, he allowed one of his “ice house” managers to sell not only blocks of ice (harvested the previous winter) but also a few food products. Now appreciative customers could skip an extra trip to the grocery store.

However, some grocers didn't like the competition and stopped buying Southland's ice, which at any rate would become less necessary as mechanical refrigeration was developed. Thompson responded by keeping his stores open for an unprecedented 16 hours a day, from 7:00 in the morning until 11:00 at night. From seven till eleven, get it?

Now appreciative customers could pick up ice plus other essentials when all the other stores were closed. How convenient!

Other innovations like gasoline pumps and Slurpees and Big Gulps and coffee to go allowed 7-Eleven, under the direction of Thompson's son, to grow to more than 12,000 United States locations with nearly $28 billion in sales.

With the dramatization of each good idea, I gave a little sob of appreciation. Way to go, intelligent entrepreneurs!

As a fifth-grader, I usually got my hair cut in my home town of Richwood, Ohio. But one week, for some reason, my mother took me to a barbershop in Raymond, 14 miles away. It would have been Saturday afternoon, October 7, 1957.

After my haircut, the barber gave me a 3 Musketeers candy bar for being a good boy. I liked the whipped nougat, and I remembered the experience. I don't recall being in Raymond for any other purpose, although there is a Methodist church on Main Street.

This rural part of Ohio has many scattered towns including Richwood, and I tend to confuse two other “R” villages, Raymond and Radnor. The former is nine miles west of Pharisburg, and the latter is five miles south of Prospect.

So I've done a little research. The main crossroads in Raymond is the intersection of Route 347 and Route 739, and it doesn't even have a traffic light. But Smitty's Mobil Service used to be on that corner, and the location is now a country variety store called Raymond Mercantile. (That's not to be confused with a Canadian business of the same name in Raymond, Alberta.)

Gail DeGood-Guy has linked to the Mercantile's post about a Farmer's Flea Market. “Every Saturday starting in May, we would like to offer our store location for anyone in the surrounding area with garden or farm produce, home baked cottage goods, flea market & garage sale items, handmade products, etc. to come on down and set up a table & canopy from about 9-3 or whenever sold out! We have room for at least 6 to 10+ about 12’ x 12’ spots to set up all around and in between both buildings, plus room for additional customer parking out back! This little spot is bigger than it looks and a great location to sell anything!”