The Ash Creek Papers

With the extinction of the dinosaurs the world moved into the Age of Mammals.  The diversification of animal life was stunning in the Miocene Epoch, readying the stage for the appearance of Homo habilis in the Pliocene and continuing thru to the Pleistocene with the flourishing of megafauna.

Huge beavers, magnificent elk, unearthly flightless birds, over sized bears, camels, mammoths, rhinos & carnivores… all roamed the land.  The lagest land mammal on earth was the Indricotherium (Matzoris major).  Fossil remains first discovered in Baluchistan put the size of this gigantic herbivore at 16 feet tall, with a length of 27 feet and an estimated weight of 15 tons.

Compared to the Indricotherium, our present day elephant would look like a mere pup.  How would you like to have to feed it?  Or clean up after it?  These are the type of questions my Grandmother would have raised.  And she was no Natural Historian.

Mommie Soph, my Grandmother for those that are not in the know, was a practical woman.  If an animal wasn’t a pet, then it was how many does it serve?  I reckon that an average sized Indricotherium could feed a good sized condo complex.

My Grandmother was a crafty person.  How many female butchers do you know?  Kosher butchers at that!  I could see her now, the wholesaler delivering the front end of the Indricotherium (the hind end would have been trayf — non-kosher), and she would roll up her sleeves preparing to section off 200lbs of flank steak, 500lbs of brisket… and that would just be the beginning.

Indricotheriums are well and good; but I think she would have had a greater interest in the smaller and more manageable “cousin” of this herbivore: Matzoris minor.  Coming in the Holocene Epoch, the Indricotherium had evolved into a smaller more nimble beast.

At their peak, herds of Matzoris covered Europe from the Russian Steppe, thru the Hungarian Plain all the way to Central France.  Thses peaceful grazers were plentiful, slow and dumb and they fell victim to carnivores and early man.  There is evidence that suggests that Sabertooth Cats killed them for sport and not for hunger need.

Early humans could not afford to be so friviolous… Each Matzoris was a prize for a family or clan.  Evidence found in the Caves of Lascaux and detailed in the famous Cave Frescoes show elaborate hunting parties engaged in killing the beasts.  There were scenes depicting its uses after slaughter, and even noted a few basic recipes.

There is much to learn from Cro-Magnon’s interaction with nature and the natural world.  The fur of the Matzoris would be used for cloaks or as decorative throws.  The hollowed skull would be used to bathe infants, the unique nine rib rib-cage would be converted into a quasi light fixture burning small amounts of Matzoris oil for fuel.

The most cherished part of the slaughtered Matzoris was the male’s testicles.  Its use in ceremonial meals is well documented.  It symbolized male strength and virility, and only a select few could partake in the heady broth that would be prepared. 

The shaman would invoke sacred blessings and would beseech the Gods to continue the line of the clan.  Then the leader of the hunt (called the Matzoris Maven) would be honored with a generous portion.  A circle of the clan would then be formed, dance with hands joined and held high, and the greatness of the Matzoris would be proclaimed.

After… the parents of the honoree would have to clean up.

Sadly, the Matzoris are nearly extinct.  The Przewalski Forest in Poland holds the last remaining Matzoris in the wild.  Unfortunately, the local population is notorious for hunting down the bucks seeking their testicles.  The testicles are dried, crushed to powder and added to Mott’s apple sauce, or, in some extreme cases, infused in solidified chicken fat and applied to a bridegroom’s male “member” on his wedding night.

Although not as effective the synthesized version of this delicacy is readily available… it appears in countless establishment and homes where it is made into a ceremonial soup following the recipe found in Lascaux… you know this dish as Matzoh Ball Soup.

Tasty.  Not quite extinct.  Enjoy.

Well… isn’t that’s what you’re supposed to do when you win the Super Bowl?  Sometimes you get to go to the White House, too.  And have a local parade.

I’ll pass on the parade… and going to the White House would be an honor… it’s just that the current occupant is not a person I care to see…

But… I’m always up for Disney World.  It’s like the “holo-deck” in Star Trek come to life… the ultimate trip to a wonderfully artificial environment.

Actually… I’ll let Peyton Manning take the trip without me.

Still it was supemely satisfying to see my Colts take the “big prize” this year.  You may ask, “why the Colts?”  How did I become a fan?  And what about them leaving Baltimore for Indianapolis?

It’s not like I’m from Baltimore, or Indianapolis for that matter.  I grew up in New Haven… and the closest team in those days were the New York Giants (they were actually called the New York football Giants to distinguish them for the New York Giants baseball team).  But it’s not uncommon for a kid to take a shine to a team from beyond his home region.  Witness the number of Cowboy fans throughout this country, ferinstance.  The team is usually a good one… with a star player, or players… and then they gotta have a cool uniform.

In 1958 the Baltimore Colts were a good team.  They had a star player in Johnny Unitas.  And their deep blue and white uniforms, helmets with a riveted horseshoe… real cool looking.

In my case, pledging my allegiance to the Colts was made easier by my Dad or Paul having no specific attachment to New York Giants.  Or, if they liked the Giants it was far less clear than their liking of the Brooklyn Dodgers.

I guess it was a matter of luck to come of “fan age” (circa age eight) when the Colts played in the historic overtime Championship game against the Giants… a game that would go on to define the NFL.  Our family listened to that game on our car radio when we went to Stowe, VT for a skiing vaction.

Johnny Unitas, Lenny Moore, Alan (The Horse) Ameche, Raymond Berry, Gino Marchetti, Gene (Big Daddy) Lipscomb, Art Donovan… I could name that entire team.

This was in the day before the AFL… before the Super Bowl.  When the NFL Championship was for all the beans.

The Colts would remain a good football team for better than a decade.

But they would suffer the ultimate disgrace… they were the first team to take it on the chin from the upstart AFL in Super Bowl III.  This was like an elementary school team beating your middle school team in softball.

The New York Jets and Joe Namath beat my Colts in 1968.  From that day on I have hated the Jets… and when the Jets had a 1-15 record several years ago… I was not quite happy enough.  I don’t know who I hate more… Joe Namath, the Grand Inquisitor, or that jerk who wears the green fire helmet and leads the Jets cheer at home games.

Two years later the Colts had a measure of redemption in winning Super Bowl V against the Cowboys (another team I don’t care for… although without the same malice I have reserved for the Jets).  It was a sloppy game filled with turnovers, and I think it is regarded as one of the worst played Super Bowls.

It’s OK, I’ll take the “w”.

I don’t think there was a Disney World in 1970 for the victors… maybe there was.

I was still in college then… still didn’t think too much about parades.  And I wouldn’t have wanted to go to the White House then either.  Although I find it hard to believe that I would ever find myself thinking that there could possibly be a more wretched President than Richard Nixon.  Thank you George W. Bush… you are like finding a team that I hate worse than the New York Jets.

Well… it’s been a long time between “drinks of water.”  The Colts finally win another Super Bowl in another sloppy turnover filled game.

It’s OK, I’ll take the “w”.

The Colts have moved from Baltimore to Indianapolis.  But it wasn’t like I have a connection to the city itself.  They are still the Colts… same neat uniforms, same history.  I have the luxury of continuing to be a fan without suffering the sense of desertion that folks from Baltimore would feel.

The Colts had a considerable stretch of time when they were awful… but they have returned to playing good ball again… they have gotten close to the big dance over the past four years.  They have a terrific Head Coach in Tony Dungy.  A person who I greatly admire for the way he carries himself.  A great Quarterback in Peyton Manning who calls his own plays… the way that Johnny Unitas did.

This was their year.

Who knows?  They might even do it again next year.  Me?  I’ll think about how much fun it will be to take another mental trip to Disney World.  But, I’m not greedy.  I hope they continue to play well… and I’ll be OK… as long as those son-of-bitch Jets don’t win. 

Look at our calendar.  It’s filled with “holidays” that are flawed in one way or another… and I think it is sapping our National strength.

First… let’s define a holiday.  A “proper” holiday is a day when banks are closed, National, State & Local Government agencies are closed, the financial markets are closed, schools are closed… and (this is important) people over 21 have the day off. 

Second… there are not enough proper holidays in the calendar.  And, as noted above, too many of our holidays are built on fundamentally weak frameworks.

All those holidays based on religion are at root horrible.  The sweep of history is filled with violence carried out in the name of religious beliefs.  And so we declare a day a joyous occasion… we decorate, we toast, we cheer, we celebrate, exchange gifts perhaps, we say thanks… and for those who don’t follow our precepts we will burn at the stake.

Then we have holidays based on war and its aftermath.

Or “holidays” that are product of the very powerful FTD Florist/Hallmark Card/Godiva Chocolate lobby, turning beautiful sentiment into a contrived exercise.

Even a neutral holiday like “Labor Day” has its problems.  Once a signal to the end of Summer & Summer vacation, it is now in most parts of the country an interuption in the regular school calendar.  Its connection to “labor” is largely lost… and when the rest of the European connected world celebrates labor on May Day, we let our paranoia for socialism show below our hem and run for cover.

And let’s take a closer look at Thanksgiving… an American holiday… our holiday.  Don’t forget that the celebration is built on a Puritan background.  You remember the Puritans and the Pilgrims?  Hey… you get caught looking up a dress and you were punished… severely punished.  No stern talking to, or a slap in the face… you were put into stocks or a ducking stool.  No wonder we were a supressed people. 

Then the Native Americans teach us how to eat lobster with sweet corn and make a clam bake… and how do we say thank you? How do we repay them?  We give them small pox.

And then we buy Manhattan for $26 (after rejecting New Jersey for $4.38… as it was written, “we were offer’d the lands & rivers of The Jersee; but it smelled of swine & foul oil).

So let’s raise a glass, stuff ourselves on turkeys that have been raised in cruelty and give thanks… and pray that the Detroit Lions produce a competitive football team for a change.

400 years after the fact, the Mashantucket Pequots are saying thanks… from their casinos.

A tad hypocritical, no?

I think it is clear that we need some quality holidays… celebrations not based in death & discrimination. Holidays without political attachment.  Holidays that do not promote over-indulgence.  A day that has no “sales days”.  A day where there is no need for cards, flowers or candy.

I know what you’re thinking… “that doesn’t leave alot.”

Well my friends… I am here to tell you that there is a day at hand… ripe for the picking.

The origin of Groundhog’s Day goes back to the Celts of Germany and France circa fifth century.  It was beleived that animals had supernatural powers that came into play on certain days or times of the year.  On the cross-quarter day (the day that is half way between the Winter Solstice and the Vernal Equinox), marmots and bears emerging from their winter dens would beat a hasty retreat if they saw their shadow… and there would be six more weeks of winter.  Cross-quarter day: February 2nd.

Early Christians called this Candlemas Day, or Hedgehog Day.

Earliest reference to this day in America can be found in the diary Berks County, PA storekeeper James Morris… his entry for February 4, 1841: “Last Tuesday, the 2nd was Candlemas day, the day on which, according to the Germans, the Groundhog {a large member of the marmot family} peeps out of his winter quarters and if he sees his shadow he pops back for another six weeks nap, but if the day be cloudy he remains out, as the weather is to be moderate.”

Well… there you are.  Simple enough.  It’s a grand day! Totally fun!  We don’t kill the little beast and eat him… we just watch him!  How good is this?

No songs.  No baked goods.  No cards. No post-holiday blues!  The perfect Holiday!

Well… almost a perfect Holiday.  We just have to elevate the day to National Status.  To take it beyond the borders of Punxsutawney, PA (home to the famous Groundhog, Punxsutawney Phil). 

We have to close government offices, close the banks, close the schools, close the financial markets… and then most important… a day off for everyone over 21.

I can see the fibre of this Country being restored already.

And now that we have that settled… we can move on to New National Holiday #2: “The Monday After Super Bowl Holiday.”