Campfire Songs for the Retirement Roundup

Ghost Workers Whom We Hire

(to tune of: "Ghost Riders in the Sky")
An old employee went to work, the same as any day,
And while he settled at his desk, ready to earn his pay,
All at once on his screen arrived an ominous warning;
He was summoned to meet with H.R. later that morning.

Their files were very thick and they archived everything.
They smiled at him as he sat; it was cold and menacing.
Your work, they said, is excellent – we've noticed for some time –
We'd like to keep you with us yet 'though you are past your prime.

Yippie-yi-yay
Yippie-yi-ooh
Some folks ne'er get away.

As he looked 'round the room to see if they might be joking,
He saw the glint in their eyes and that their ears were smoking.
Piles of paper on the table, waiting for blood to sign,
A pledge forever more to vow, “My soul e'er shall be thine.”

We heard you say that you were worried about retirement,
What you could do to fill your days, after your employment.
So if you prefer here to stay to ever play our games,
We will make a place at our side in our eternal flames.

Yippie-yi-yay
Yippie-yi-ooh
Ghost workers whom we hire.
Ghost workers whom we hire.
Ghost workers whom we hire.

---

Don’t Throw Me Out

(to tune of: "Don't Fence Me In")
Oh, I have years, lots of years of experience to share
Don’t throw me out.
Let me work at my job nestled in my old chair
Don’t throw me out.
Let me come in each day and smell my mornin’ coffee
And listen to the news and swap tales with my posse.
Set me out to greet visitors in the lobby,
(but) Don’t throw me out.

Just wait a bit, do not cashier my old career
Underneath pensioning feet.
While here I sit, let me produce those facts obtuse
That I so oft do repeat.

I want to feel that my life still has some meaning,
As I near those retirement pastures greening;
I know to work’s end I am now careening
(but) Don’t throw me out.

Oh, give me time, just a bit more time to linger.
Don’t throw me out.
Let me find in my mind how to leave this wringer.
Don’t throw me out.
Let me be my old self ‘til I plan another
And enjoy what has been before the next other,
Or let me train my own replacement if you’d rather
(but) Don’t throw me out.

Just four more years, in your employ me to deploy
Wherever I can help out.
To ease my fears, let me fulfill with my tried skill
‘Til this job I can do without.

I want to roam someday in that slower pasture
And sleep until noon with no disaster,
But I have many leisure skills yet to master
(so, please) Don’t throw me out.

---

On The Off Ramp

(To tune of: "On the Road Again" (Willie Nelson version))
On the ramp at last -
Time is coming to exit from my jobs past,
That life I live working to do my daily tasks
And I can see approaching its end so fast.
On the ramp at last.

Doing things that I've been asked,
So many things that may be later trashed.

O, I'll need to say goodbye to work amassed.
On the ramp at last -
Like a load of bricks, they built my self image,
They filled my day's glass,
Giving me the reasons to join the scrimmage.

That's the way
To the off ramp at last.
Say farewell to all those whose path I crossed
In the life I worked doing my daily tasks

And leave directions to all the chores I pass
From the ramp at last.
Like a trail of breadcrumbs to lead them to the clue
Through my notes so vast
Hoping they can find what, without me, to do

That's the way
To the off ramp at last.
Just can't stay fore'er in the happy past --
The life I will live is coming near at last

And I need to get ready, so very fast -
Now that I have reached the ramp at last.

---

Get Along Little Dougie

(To tune of: "Get Along, Little Dogie" )
Whoopee-ti-yi-yo, get along, little Dougie;
It's your retirement to face on your own.
Whoopee-ti-yi-yo, get along, little Dougie;
You know that it's time for you to head home.

Your parents did raise you to work for your living,
And you try to do so, if ne'er too hard.
While we appreciate the effort you're giving,
We are still all signing the farewell card.

Whoopee-ti-yi-yo, move along, little Dougie;
It's your retirement to face on your own.
Whoopee-ti-yi-yo, move along, little Dougie;
You know that it's time for you to stay home.

Some folks join the old rat race for security
That's where they get it most awfully wrong.
You can run 'round the track well past maturity,
But there comes a time when you should be gone.

Whoopee-ti-yi-yo, move over, little Dougie;
You made your fortune, if ever you will.
Whoopee-ti-yi-yo, move over, little Dougie;
Leave so we'll have a position to fill.

---

O, My Old Job

(to tune of: "O, Shenandoah")

O, my old job, I'm bound to leave you.
I must leave forever.
O, my old job, I'm goin' to miss you.
Away, I'm bound away
To future mystery.

O, my old job, I'd loved my career.
I must leave forever.
O, my old job, beware what is dear.
Away, I'm bound away
To future mystery.

O, my old job, I planned to retire.
I must leave forever.
O, my old job, ne'er thought it so dire.
Away, I'm bound away
To future mystery.

O, my old job, you're always with me.
I must leave forever.
O, my old job, wherever I'll be.
Away, I'm bound away
To future mystery.

---

Sippy Cocktail Straws

(to tune of: "Tumbling Tumbleweeds")

Look at them rushing around,
Treading water, not to drown,
While at poolside I'll be found,
Sipping mai tais with my sippy cocktail straw.

Cares of the past are behind,
As I peacefully unwind –
Fixes are for others to find.
Sipping mai tais with my sippy cocktail straw.

I knew it was time to leave,
Time for my work's reprieve.

I will just rest right here
Now that I am off that tier,
No troubles to ever hear,
Sipping mai tais with my sippy cocktail straw.

I knew it was time to leave,
Time for my work's reprieve.

I will just rest right here
Now that I am off that tier,
No troubles to ever hear,
Sipping mai tais with my sippy cocktail straw.

Birthday Songs for the 1952 Cohort

2B62

(To tune of “As Time Goes By”)

We must remember this,
Standing at the abyss,
Years fly as years do fly,
Our aging we cannot deny
As time goes by.

And when, at sixty-two,
They say “you may be due
For pension to apply” --
Our past does bring our future nigh
As time goes by.

Those contributions
Cached for later date
Plus the interest
Added to our plate;
We’ll need income
To live out our fate --
On this we can rely.

It’s still the same old story
Counting inventory,
To last until we die.
The world will always want our money
As time goes by.

Do calculations
With too much unknown;
All speculations
Invoking a groan.
We need comfort
Even when we are grown --
That no one can deny.

For now, remember this,
We have a job, such bliss,
They’ll not yet say goodbye --
We’ll hang on if we try
As time goes by.

---

Don’t Sigh So Much, You Old-timer

(To extracts of the tune: Don’t Cry for Me Argentina)

Don’t sigh so much, you old-timer!
Your youth hasn’t really left you.
Although your wild days,
Your mad existence,
And those old promises
Fade in the distance.

Under the batterings of aging,
(Which you never invited in
Although they came anyway),
You grew by inch and mile.
Age is illusion,
It’s not a dilution.
Years add more layers,
But you are there all the time;
Time only hides you inside you.

Don’t sigh so much, you old-timer!
Your youth still plays within you
With the working you,
Husband-father you,
And all that is you;
So, Happy Birthday!

A Small Happy World

Somebody needs to care, but it need not be me,
I will take a small share from what near me I see.
But the woes of it all is more than I will bear,
As so behind my wall, I will stay unaware.
Can I hide here within with just my pleasant dreams,
And reduce what has been to what it blindly seems?
Can I hold my comfort that many do not share
And withhold my consort from others in despair?
Perhaps, I "can" with ease, but "should" is the question;
Should a small sphere I please, to avoid depression?
Is helplessness enough to give excuse to stop --
The ugly world rebuff and dismissive shields drop?

Valentines, Ink.

Valentines, Ink Corporate Language of Love
Contractually:
Be it known, the party of the first part
Admires and desires party number two,
And counts as assets his soul and his heart,
Held in trust where interest does accrue.
Herein said first party humbly offers
A proposal their assets to combine
In a merger to fill Cupid's coffers,
If you consent to be my Valentine.

Financially:
    If pennies buy dollars when put in the right stock,
    And small dreams turn the key of all industry's clock,
        Invest in my wee line
        And be my Valentine;
    Together we can find if someone buys this schlock.

Fiduciarily:
When I exchanged my love for thine,
Your trust I did invoke.
It is the contract of Valentine
In the promises we spoke.
I hold my duty the most dear
To do my best for you.
All my priorities are clear,
Telling me what to do.
This year as I renew my oath
And ask you to be mine,
I pledge my never-ending troth
To all that you assign.

HOME FROM VACATION

Home from vacation; Oh my, what a rest!
From sixty to zero, life did change its pace.
No schedule to meet at someone's behest;
Only a spectator of the rat race.
The Weather Channel told me of the storms
That besieged the folks back home in the North;
The snowfall that piled beyond standard norms,
Temperatures squeezing out any warmth.
Snug in Florida, I slept through the chill,
Which drove residents to find scarf and cap,
Until the afternoon sunshine started to grill,
And then on the chaise, I caught a short nap.
I could not endure such ease forever,
But, for two weeks, it is fine however.

Burnt Out Offering

Burnt Out Offering

When Sunday comes, my recent habit is

To think about this bit of blogging biz.

Some times I have a piece I have worked on

That I yet must decide if duck or swan.

Or perhaps some impulsive doggerel

Missing the goal of my inaugural.

To be or not to be a wit renown,

Nobler to be quiet than a crappy clown.

For long, I wrote to amuse only me

When there were no others to read nor see;

That may be true mostly even with this blog

Sailing into the unresponsive fog.

What satisfaction do I seek here

Dancing exposed to the surfing sightseer?

A cry out for some undue attention

To validate my own false pretension?

Is it humble to hold your thoughts within

And retire from the world with no chagrin?

Or is it greedy to withhold your part,

To hoard your ideas, and not to impart?

What example must we set for others,

To share our lives with our human brothers?

Can I claim a role as a building block

In my willingness to peddle this schlock?

My imagined reader, if you exist,

You choose to meet me at this web-based tryst.

If, from here, you go unfulfilled away,

Please fault me little for your wasted stay.

Office Haiku

Office Haiku

Breathe in the coffee

Await the computer’s boot

Eight more hours to go

=+=+=

In the cubicle

Many to hear and be heard

Solitude sacred

=+=+=

Breakroom aroma

Peppered with gossip for zest

Thought for food today

=+=+=

Commute across ice

Adrenal flushed at my desk

Rest for return home

=+=+=

The Quality of Data

The Quality of Data:

Reflections on a numberless society

The quality of data can be strange,

It piles uncounted in pools and puddles

Shaped by where it falls. It is twice misgrasped:

It eludes him that describes and him that listens.

Some concepts seem so basic that it requires considerable willpower to imagine one's existence without them. Numbers are probably not inherently part of our human biology, but once introduces into our framework of thought, it is hard not to enumerate the world around nearly automatically.

But we also verbalize by quality without resorting to quantities for everything we encounter. Probably the qualities of our experienced surroundings are the much more frequently noted characteristics and data we process into our decisions. Many people happily admit to be “math-impaired” without any particular feeling of loss.

So, suppose the only language and concepts for dealing with the world were qualitative, not quantitative. Absence or presence (“out” or “in” to our spherical friends below) of some quality, but no measure of its absolute volume or intensity. All attempts to state such comparison were only relative (bigger than a breadbox, smaller than a refrigerator; or bigger than a large weasel, smaller than a small bison). How lost would you be until you had seen a bison (and a weasel) or had its size placed relative to your own experience?

The mathematicians amongst us would say there is still math to be done with such relations, groups/members, and opposites. Some people simply cannot be distracted from their proclivities, but it will be the rare person today who will follow their symbolic notations and computational gymnastics. Most of us will drop back to our non-arithmetic intuitions and pattern recognitions.

Earthling: I come in peace. Does one of you speak for all here?

Quals (together): I speak here.

Earthling: No, one at a time please. Who is your leader?

Quals (together): Fred! Fred is leader here, bigger than me, bigger than Sam, bigger than Walter, but lesser than Big Bertha. Big Bertha is not here.

Earthling: Fine, then I wished to speak to Fred. … Hello, are you Fred?

Fred: Yes, I am Fred.

Earthling: Fred, we come from a star and planet 184 light-years from here. We want to be friends and learn from each other.

Fred: Greetings. Learning is good. Quals like to learn. And to teach. But, Fred does not understand words you use.

Earthling: How can you answer if you do not understand what I say.

Fred: I do and I do not understand. I ignore when I do not. Why do you say “we” and not “I”. “we” is group.

Earthling: There are 27 other crew members on the spaceship. I came out to meet you, but we all wish to be friends.

Fred: What is “twenty-seven” of not-this crew members?

Earthling: 27 is a number. (holds up all fingers and clenches/unclenches twice, then one hand once, and finally extends two fingers). This many.

Fred: (spherical, no digits) Huh? “Twenty-seven” is a dance?

Earthling: No, a number. (scratches 27 lines in the dirt while counting) 1, 2, 3, …, 27!

Fred: Oh, “twenty-seven” is Art? Both Visual and Performance? What is “one”, “two”, “three” …?

Earthling: Can you not count?

Fred: What is “count”?

Earthling (looking at his commpad): “To name quantities by sequential accumulation.” Gee, I hardly understand that definition. It is like you see one thing and then you see another, so you have two, and then you see another and you have three, and so forth.

Fred: Another is “two” and is “three”? What is the difference?

Earthling: Uh, one? Gee, you are getting me confused, too.

Data Bells

Data Bells

To Melody of: Jingle Bells

Working o'er the years

In employ of D.O.C.,

With lessons and cheers

Filling my esprit.

Data to juggle,

And challenges to meet,

What else would make such a struggle

An employment treat.

CHORUS: Data sets, data sets,

Data everywhere,

O what fun it is to crunch

And find something to share, O

Data sets, data sets,

Data everywhere,

O what fun it is to crunch

And find something to share.

So many years ago,

I happened on this job

And thought while times are slow

I'd hang out with this mob;

I knew nothing of their work,

Corrections was all new,

But with IT I could lurk,

And try to muddle through.

CHORUS: Data sets, data sets, …

The database was huge,

I'd never seen so much;

Part planned and part kluge,

It held all in its clutch.

And yet they desired more,

So I set to meet the task,

Listening as the specs did pour,

And making what they ask.

CHORUS: Data sets, data sets, …

Now that system going,

Too old, they say, to run;

Seeds I've been sowing

May now be redone.

My old friend will be tossed

To make way for the new,

Without his data I feel lost

And think I should go, too!

 

CHORUS: Data sets, data sets, …

When Dragons Came for Christmas

When Dragons Came for Christmas

To Melody of: Frosty The Snowman

Clarence the Dragon came home from the department store
With his soft green skin, and those wings of blue,
And the happy grin he wore.
Clarence the Dragon was a Toys for Tots gift;
He was stuffed with fluff, for a child to love,
But he gave my heart a lift.

He sat in the livingroom
And watched the T.V. with us.
He was fine with whatever was on
And he never made a fuss.

Clara the Dragon came to join him the next week
And quickly she sat right down at his side
And nuzzled up cheek to cheek

Snuggly snug snug, snuggly snug snug,
Look at Clarence smile.
Snuggly snug snug, snuggly snug snug,
They’ll be here for a while.

Both of those Dragons decided they would settle in,
So they dressed up as Thanksgiving pilgrims
And help us feast with our kin.
When the Christmas tree was decorated and lit,
They put on their next holiday caps
And had their own stockings knit.

They moved right in to heart and home
And brighten up the place
With thoughts of a child yet to come
And the smile on her face.

Clarence and Clara, soon they will have to leave us here,
But as we say goodbye, with a heartfelt sigh,
We’ll be filled with Christmas cheer.

D.O.C. Office Party

Corrections Carols

=====

The Prisoners’ Carol

To Melody of : O, Christmas Tree

O, D.O.C., O, D.O.C.,
Your prison bars confine us.
O, D.O.C., O, D.O.C.,
May prison soon refine us.
You teach us what is right and wrong.
You teach us how to get along.
O, D.O.C., O, D.O.C.,
May prison soon refine us.

O, D.O.C., O, D.O.C.,
You give our life such structure.
O, D.O.C., O, D.O.C.,
You give our life such structure.
And when we return to our homes
Better thoughts will now fill our domes.
O, D.O.C., O, D.O.C.,
You give our life such structure.

O, D.O.C., O, D.O.C.,
Your prison bars confine us.
O, D.O.C., O, D.O.C.,
May prison soon refine us.
You teach us what is right and wrong.
You teach us how to get along.
O, D.O.C., O, D.O.C.,
May prison soon refine us.

---------------------------------------------------------------------

Go Rest You Weary Officer

To Melody of: God Rest You Merry, Gentlemen.

Go rest you weary officer,
Leave your woes behind here.
Remember the next shift
Will now put on their gear
To relieve you from the stress
When inmates start to wear.
O time off for leisure and home,
Leisure and home
O time off for leisure and home.

In bed so snug, in your own home,
You can catch up on your sleep
And dream in peaceful rest
‘Til your alarm does beep.
A few hours of your own,
Remaining day does creep.
O time off for leisure and home,
Leisure and home
O time off for leisure and home.

Soon enough you return again
To take your daily post
And guard all those poor souls
In the imprisoned host. 
How you will guide them from the wrong
Where your help is needed most.
‘Til time off for leisure and home,
Leisure and home
‘Til time off for leisure and home.

“Fear not,” says your supervisor,
“You are the one in charge.
The inmates will work the rules,
But obey, by and large,
Remain firm and be vigilant,
And your duty fairly discharge,
‘Til time off for leisure and home,
Leisure and home
‘Til time off for leisure and home.”

You used your training every hour
To maintain the site’s calm.
You faced conflict ‘fore it starts
And dealt with great aplomb.
You ran your unit as it should,
Part sheriff and part Mom.
Now, time off for leisure and home,
Leisure and home
O time off for leisure and home.

----------------------------------

Way Out On A Bender

To Melody of: Away In A Manger.

Way out on a bender, too drunk to see straight,
He swerved from the highway and hit the park gate.
Stars twinkled above as he passed out below,
That very drunk driver to prison will go.

It was not his first time reckless at the wheel,
And the judge was less willing to make a deal.
“Your mother may love you and think you are sweet,
But to the rest of us, you belong off the street.”

“So cool your heels awhile and clean up your act,
Six months to serve is the penalty we exact.”
He sits in his jail cell as holidays pass
To reflect how alcohol should not mix with gas.

-------------------------------------------------

‘Cause DOC is Watching You Now

To Melody of: Santa Claus Is Coming To Town

You better watch out.
You better not stray.
You better behave
Both night and day
‘Cause D.O.C. is watching you now.

They have your charges,
Sentences too.
Better be careful what you do
‘Cause D.O.C. is watching you now.

They check in when you sleeping
And know when you’re awake.
The E.M. tells them where you go,
They are very hard to shake.

You better watch out.
You better not stray.
You better behave
Both night and day
‘Cause D.O.C. is watching you now.

With officers on the street
Checking everyone on their beat,
The D.O.C. is watching you now.
 At jobs and home, with whomever meets you,
They make sure you are staying on cue,
‘Cause D.O.C. is watching you now.

The neighbors will be happy

To know you’re doing well.
If you stop being scrappy
And get off that worn path to Hell.

So! You better watch out.
You better not stray.
You better behave
Both night and day
‘Cause D.O.C. is watching you now.

They check in when you sleeping
And know when you’re awake.
The EM tells them where you go;
They are very hard to shake.

You better watch out.
You better not stray.
You better behave
Both night and day
‘Cause D.O.C. is watching you now.

------------------------------------------------

Did You Learn What I Taught?

To Melody of: Do You Hear What I Hear?

Said the teacher to the inmate,
Did you learn what I taught?
Up here on the board of slate,
Did you learn what I taught?
A fact, a fact,
Simple in its way
With value if you tuck away,
With value if you tuck away.

Said the parolee to his employer,
Do you see my degree?
I’m working to be a lawyer,
Do you see my G.E.D.?
A start, a start
Upon which to build,
To become somebody more skilled,
To become somebody more skilled.

Said the employer to the governor,
Do you know what I know?
Corrections molded me a learner,
Do you know what will grow?
A seed, a seed,
Planted in knowledge,
Can a mis-started life salvage,
Can a mis-started life salvage.

Said the governor to all the people,
Let us spend taxes wisely.
Proclaim it from hall and steeple,
With our schools, be not miserly.
The stray, the stray,
Can be brought back home,
And needs not hopelessly roam,
And needs not hopelessly roam.

------------------------------

The Good DOC Commissioner

To Melody of: Good King Wenceslas.

The Commissioner looked on
The work of Corrections,
And proudly his eye was drawn
To all fulfilling their missions.
With duty, they bent to task,
‘Though often unnoticed,
Performing all he did ask,
To leave no detail missed.

“Deputy, come stand by me,
And help me solve this puzzle.
What thought have you of how we
Can reward such bustle?”
“Sir, there’s hardly any money.
Budget’s tight, costs mounting;
It’s long since times were sunny,
According to accounting.”

“Bring me pad, and bring me pen,
Let’s brainstorm ideas;
A snack maybe, now and then,
Or coupons for tortillas.”
The two of them went to work
To find a way to say,
From the top to lowest clerk,
We owe more than we pay.

“Sir, perhaps we should say that,
As often as we can.
For them, we’ll go to the mat,
As they do, to a man.”
“In their footsteps, we should walk
With the devotion they show,
And with our acts, as much as talk,
Remember the debt we owe.”

So, led by them, he leads them,
With determined drive
To make a workplace gem
Where all can work and thrive.
Let us appreciate the boss
As he does of us all,
And join him in shared sauce
To answer duty’s call.

 -------------------------------------------------

Rudolph, the Under-aged Felon

To Melody of: Rudolph, the Red-Nosed Reindeer.

Rudolph, the under-aged felon,

Was caught while in the act.

But even though you saw him

He would just deny the fact.

Nobody could ever trust him

Nor would even turn their back,

Lest they became the victim

Of Rudolph's next attack.

Then one Marine recruiter came

To offer some hope:

"Rudolph, you're so fill of fight,

Why not serve your country right"?

Now everyone claps with pride

And cheers him when they can.

Rudolph, you under-aged felon,

You're off to Afghanistan.

------------------------------------
 

The Workcrew Carol

To Melody of: Deck the Halls.

Paint the walls and clean the highway,

Fa la la la la, la la la la.

Service hours is how you repay,

Fa la la la la, la la la la.

For the harm you did to others

Fa la la, la la la, la la la.

Bringing shame to dads and mothers,

Fa la la, la la la, la la la.
  

See the happy people greet you,

Fa la la la la, la la la la.

Here is a chance to start anew,

Fa la la la la, la la la la.

Replace the bad with good deeds,

Fa la la, la la la, la la la.

Relieve instead of cause the needs.

Fa la la, la la la, la la la.
 

Feel your value in your labors,

Fa la la la la, la la la la.

As you help, not hurt, your neighbors.

Fa la la la la, la la la la.

You'll feel better for what you do,

Fa la la, la la la, la la la.

And now follow a path that's true

Fa la la, la la la, la la la.

--------------------------------------------------------

Adoration of the Three Stooges

Adoration of the Three Stooges

We three Fools of Comedy come
Performing deeds so truly dumb.
Seltzer and pie and insults fly,
Amusing you with our scrum.

O screen of silver, screen of light,
Screen turned on through the night,
Sleepless viewing, popcorn chewing,
Bring us to your endless sight.

Born in Brooklyn, the fourth of five,
As the bully I would so thrive.
Others are good, but I guess would
Without me not survive.

O screen of silver, screen of light,
Screen turned on through the night,
Sleepless viewing, popcorn chewing,
Bring us to your endless sight.

The smarts is what I sought to bring
When all thought was sorely lacking.
But man of wit when an idiot
Often gets a bruising.

O screen of silver, screen of light,
Screen turned on through the night,
Sleepless viewing, popcorn chewing,
Bring us to your endless sight.

Mirth was mine: the view of a child
With all my emotions gone wild.
Chortling, barking, anger sparking,
Anything goes if you smiled.

O screen of silver, screen of light,
Screen turned on through the night,
Sleepless viewing, popcorn chewing,
Bring us to your endless sight.

Humorous, yet it makes you cringe,
As slapstick goes to outer fringe.
With “nyuk, nyuk, nyuk”, and a quick duck,
Come along on our binge.

O screen of silver, screen of light,
Screen turned on through the night,
Sleepless viewing, popcorn chewing,
Bring us to your endless sight.

LEAVES

The leaves under the snow
Accuse I was too slow.
Too much ease I did take
Instead of wielding my rake

It is the trees I blame
Which cause me undue shame.
They held on for too long,
Trying Fall to prolong.

I did do the chore thrice,
Clearing the leaves quite nice,
While those oak trees looked on
At my work on the lawn.

They shook at me their crowns
With the wind's rattling sounds.
Although strong gusts did blow,
They refused to let go.

So now the leaves will wait
Until winter does abate.
I will find them next Spring
As the first chore they bring.

Cost Analysis of Straw Architecture

Fifer Pig
Old Sow’s Sty, McDonald Farm
Storyland, USA

Dear Sir:

As per your request, I have prepared the following cost-benefits analysis on the desirability of constructing your future home of straw.

The excellent availability and low cost of this material makes it practically a steal as a construction medium.  The 8-feet tall walls for rectangular, modest 144 square feet home (15X15 exterior, 12X12 interior) requires about 126  bales and can be erected by the homeowner and a few friends within a day.  However for this design, an additional cost would be the construction of a roof requiring much more expensive wooden support beams.  The A-frame, pyramid, conical, or igloo designs with narrowing walls as they reaches their peak height would close the top of a straw structure while providing adequate headroom for a person of your size.  Somewhat more technique is needed to complete these designs, but their complexity should not be overwhelming to a pig of your intelligence.

I estimate the floor area, enclosed volume, and bale count for these four closed designs as:
Equilateral A-frame, 15X15 exterior base, 15 feet height: 144 sq.ft. with 1370 cu.ft. (1190 below 8 feet) from 130 bales (some cutting required);
Equilateral pyramid, 15x15 exterior base, 15 feet height: 144 sq.ft. with 760 cu.ft. (695 below 8 feet) from 109 bales;
Equilateral conical, 15 feet exterior diameter, 15 feet height 113 sq.ft. with 600 cu.ft. (545 below 8 feet) from 130 bales (shaping required);
Hemispherical igloo, 19 feet exterior diameter, 9.5 feet height 200 sq.ft. with 1040 cu.ft. (max height is 8 feet) from 162 bales (shaping required).

Heating and cooling cost are largely a function of the cubic volume.  Your best bargain for floor space as a ratio of the enclosed volume is the igloo design (about 1:5.2) without volume loss above 8 feet, but that is the most difficult to build and requires the largest lot size.  The equilateral pyramid is the most economical and relatively easiest erected with a similar floor-area:volume ratio.  It is my recommendation for your needs and budget.

Recognizing the limiting time constraint you have placed on this project in order to meet the demands of your musical career, it would be possible to forego the usual coating of the straw with stucco, mud, and/or plaster.  Unlike the speed with which the walls can be erected, this spackling phase is very labor-intensive.  There is an increased risk of damage from weather, rot, and foraging animals with an appetite for straw in the absence of this protective barrier, but if your residency plans are short-term, the rates of depreciation may be essentially immaterial  to your needs.  Similarly, the expense of a water-tight foundation on which to rest the house may also be a waste of money and time, given the short occupancy you anticipate before your career blossoms after the coming winter season.

In summary, I would encourage you to proceed with your plans to build your house of straw.  It is suitable to your lifestyle, timeframe, and budget.  I look forward to your house-warming party; please remember to invite me.

At your humble service,
Zeke Midas Woolf, RA/AIA

Rapping at My Door

Rapping at My Door

Once upon my lazy recliner, feasting on takeout from the diner,
I sat and flipped idly through mindless cable channels galore –
Tasty crumbs from my lips lapping – when outside there came a rapping,
A most irritating tapping, an insistent, beckoning chore.
“Oh, not now, I have just sat down to eat,” I did wish to implore,
“Please leave me and come no more.”

The knocking stopped to my relief, visitor gone was my belief,
As I paused on the sports network to get the latest baseball score.
But too soon had I decided, my conclusion was misguided;
For upon my ears collided, the urgent knock I could but abhor,
That pounding call to duty – a host’s duty I could not ignore –
Oh, stop now and knock no more.

So I set my dinner aside and went to see who was outside,
In my slippered feet slowly sliding across the hardwood floor.
Carefully I went, not to fall as I traversed through the dark hall.
The peeking hole in the portal showed me no one at the front door,
For I had not lit the lights when I went silently to explore,
Hoping he stood there no more.

So I turned to make a retreat and resume my meal and my seat,
When again, at the infernal rapping behind my back, I swore.
“You are not there, I just did look,” I said as angry fist I shook,
“Why do you treat me like a schnook and play your games to make me sore?
Some comfort and to relax at end of day is all I ask for,
But you still want something more.”

Across the hall I go again to confront my evening’s bane.
Resigned now and with the porch lamp brightly aglow, its light did pour
Forth to illuminate my stoop. And looking now I saw a troupe
Of small monsters that made me whoop to see such characters from lore.
Their true identities all hidden by the frightful costumes they wore,
Covered in gore and much more.

“Have you come to scare me tonight? For, in truth, you gave me a fright.
Two Ghosts, ghoul, vampire, beastman, and mummy, in all miniature.
Why at my house do you here haunt and with your knock do you me taunt?
I have to wonder what you want that you assemble at my door?”
In one collected voice “Trick or Treat” arose from this motley corps,
“Candy is fine, nothing more”.

The Freedom to Vote

The Freedom to Vote

The problem with absolute Freedom is how seldom one truly gets to exercise it. To be free is to be untethered to anything and unfettered of any restraint. When does that ever happen!?

Freedom, on a more practical level, does not permit us to do everything we can, but defines a range in which we may act. Some restraints are self-imposed, based on our own sense of morality, risks, values, and logic. But many limitations are established by agreements we have with the people around us. Those choices which we allow to others are the same freedoms of which we have the expectation to possess ourselves.

Such is the freedom to vote. If my vote is to have value then so must yours under the same qualifications. In demanding my right to vote, I am conceding my inability to make the decision alone. I am buying into the agreed process for how the votes will be treated to arrive at a decision and thus implicitly agreeing to the decision as binding on me, irrespective of how I vote. Such a “freedom to vote” is costly purchased in restraints upon my other actions, especially it seems, when that vote goes against me.

True “Freedom” would be not to need to yield my actions to the opinions of others in the decision to be made. Universal Freedom would be the anarchy of everyone governed by their own decision, unable to affect or to be affected by another person’s actions. Hermits might experience such, but not those of us living amongst others.

“Free” societies are not built to strengthen Freedom, but to harness its power of desire beyond self-interest into cooperative efforts and protections. The Declaration of Independence makes this point in its “self-evident truths”:

• that all men are created equal,
• that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness
• that to secure these rights, Governments are instituted among Men, deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed,

These are truths which are universal (equal in all people) and not statements about our differences (in health, wealth, beauty, intelligence, citizenship, etc). There is a set of naturally provided (endowed) attributes that cannot be separated from the person to be given to another (unalienable). One person’s Life (organic being), Liberty (choices) or Pursuit of Happiness (desires) cannot be removed and placed in another person. And yet, these attributes are not secure. Although they cannot be transferred to another, they may be denied without the security of society (Government) and specifically a society whose agreements (rules of governance) are based on the protection of equal and shared rights being the purpose of that society. A Society that is “destructive to these ends” must be altered or abolished, according to the Declaration of Independence, in favor of another “most likely to effect their Safety and Happiness”. There is still no certainty of these goals ensured by this fundamental document of our American society, only best efforts.

To secure = “to make (something) safe by guarding or protecting it”; “to make (something) certain”; “to put (something) in a place or position so that it will not move”. Particularly, this last definition describes the relationship between Security and the Freedom it secures. In order to be secure, restrictions are placed on the range of motion (action) of the object. It is “tied down for its own safety”. Security and Freedom are opposing forces and it is the “consent of the governed” which decides the balance.

And thus, as a society, we vote, a compromise in every decision made between our individual Freedom and the Security of having any Freedom.

Discovery?

Discovery?

In fourteen hundred ninety-two,
Columbus sailed the ocean blue.
Across the unknown western seas,
He went to find the East Indies.
Twenty-four hundred miles he thought
Was how far to the lands he sought.
Wrong was he by fivefold or so,
But yet the Royals let him go.

Five weeks from Canary Island,
He led his small maritime band.
And there was seen a shore again
As ended the easterly sea lane.
The next four months he island-hopped
As for the Asian spices he shopped.
He found the chili pepper hot,
But not much else to spice the pot.

His eye did seek other treasure
To bring him and sponsors pleasure.
In the natives' trinkets of gold,
His chance for riches, he did behold.
One tenth was his by the decree
Signed when he was sent out to sea.
Perhaps they thought he would not return,
But the gamble might profits earn.

And so gathering what he could,
He turned back to make his claim good. 
His own success he richly praised
And soon a larger fleet was raised.
All of Europe passed 'round his name
Spreading wide his explorer's fame.
The Admiral, Governor too,
Had conquered the ocean blue.

Now the Spanish empire began
To add the conquest of the land.
All that was west of the Pope's line
Was Spain's realm by powers divine;
The riches, the land, even people,
Dealt cards from the Catholic steeple.
Subjects to rule by force needed,
Their pagan rights so quickly ceded.

Centuries later, in this land,
We celebrate the ocean spanned
And honor those who led us here
To this “discovered” hemisphere.
'Though helped by serendipity,
Europe took the opportunity
To fill the space (or seize a bit)
And, in their own eyes, upgrade it.

Who Hid My Cheese?

WHO HID MY CHEESE?

There are widely held beliefs that vocalization in the common house mouse (Mus musculus) are largely devoted to procreation and nurturing of the very young. Although selectively bred and altered for uses in laboratories for over a century, the study of the audible (to humans) and ultrasound speech of mice has remained in its infancy. Thus, I received the following with a great deal of skepticism, but consider it only fair to allow you, my readers, to draw your own conclusions.

My transcription from the near microscopic markings on the scraps of paper found on the floor of the Animal Care Facility may be somewhat inexact, but I have labored many a long hour over some years since their discovery to organize these materials. Nonetheless, gaps exist in the record that I have, perforce, needed to leave unfilled.

===

“George, can we go to the gym? Let's go to the gym, George. I like the gym.”

“Maybe later, Lenny. Algernon is coming over to help us plan for our future. We can't run the Boss' mazes forever. We need our own maze where we are free to decide whether we want to run today or just relax and have the cheese delivered.”

“But I like the wheel, George. I can run and run and run and I never get lost there, George.”

“Sure you do, Lenny. We'll have a wheel at our maze too and then you can run all day if you want. But we need to plan, we need to save to get there. Algernon's got a program for planful mice like us who want to get beyond this day-to-day working for the Boss.”

“Okay, George, if that is what you say, it's okay with me, George. But can we eat first? I'm hungry, George.”

“Yeah, go ahead. But try not to eat it all. We gotta think ahead.”

...

“So, the postponement of the immediate gratification of making a repast of every consumable good you find can yield you long term security. Allocating a small but steady contribution to the pooled trust fund provides all members with a dependable resource to support them in old age and disability when they have completed their working careers. Any questions?”

“Ah, Algernon, what's a con-sometable? It's good, right, Algernon?”

“It is the best, Lenny. The trust fund handles a variety of commodities; Agricultural and Manufactured. Seeds. Dairy. Pellets. And many more.”

“Algernon, if we eat what other mice are depositing for their future, what will they eat when the future gets here?”

“Well, George, the simple fact is that the shelf life of these non-durable goods means they won't last. The beneficiaries now provide an outlet for the commodity while it still has value and the depositors now receive credit towards the acquisitions more contemporary to the future date of their need.”

“But where do these 'acquisitions' come from?”

“The next generation, George. Your kids and your kids' kids. This a program for the ages. We are not a bunch of savages. A little help from everyone means everyone gets help when they need it.”

“Why won't the young mice just eat it? Or cache it away for themselves?”

“Decomposition in the latter case. Maybe obesity in the first. Waste does not preserve value, simple as that.”

“How much will we get back when we retire?”

“Okay, now, that's an interesting question.”

“Does it have an answer, Algernon?”

“Oh, certainly. But there are several variables involved, so the answer for you may not be the same as the answer for a different contributor. And since you do not yet have a history of contributions, it would be more a speculation than a guarantee to state a specific rate of return. But, be assured the system will take better care of you than having no support.”

“Well, okay, let's sign up. Is that okay with you, Lenny?”

“If you think we should, George. You understand these things, George.”

…

“George, do we got any more of those 'plan seeds' left?  I am hungry, George.”

“That's because you eat like six mice, Lenny. Here, I still have some.”

“Why are we getting fewer seeds, George?”

“Well, Algernon says that enrollment of new mice is down since the funding cutbacks at NIH and other research labs. It probably only temporary, he says.  Plus with all the exercise, nutrition, and medication we have been getting, there are more of us retired mice living longer.”

“Could we go back to work for the Boss, George? He fed us good.”

“No, he is not looking for old mice like us, Lenny. He cannot even support all the younger mice at the moment. I heard he set most of them out in the field to fend for themselves. Something about defaulting on a 'mortgage'.”

“What's a mort-gauge, George?”

“I am not sure. 'mort' comes from the Latin for death and a gauge is a device to measure, you know, like the treadmill the Boss used to have us run. So, I guess it is something to measure how dead or near dead you are.”

“I don't think I could run many laps on a mort-gauge anymore, George. I'm too hungry.”

“Well, I think they all expected us to be dead by now, Lenny. It will happen with their help or not.”

===

That is all I have been able to decipher from these mysterious scratching. I know nothing more of the fate of George, Lenny, Algernon, or any other mice from this facility.