Lost art, but not dead yet.

Many years ago my wife gave me a sweatshirt that I still have. It is very beaten-up these days, but I won't part with it yet. I think it has an important message about the human condition, especially the agnate half of the human condition.  

Why don't men want to ask for directions? 

I realize that's an exceptionally broad sweep, but within every truism is some truth. My dad did not like to ask directions and neither do I, nor do most guys I know. It's not like we sat down at the lodge meeting and voted on it -- "All right, boys, remember, from this point in, no asking directions." I think it's just instinctive to the male side of the species. When you're a stranger and you're lost, you are in a position of weakness, and asking directions is akin to admitting weakness to someone you don't know in a place with which you're unfamiliar. When we look at it that way, it's no surprise that the situation sets off alarm bells deep in our psyche. 

In fact, it's not surprising at all that men don't want to ask for directions. It's much more surprising that women do—even when they don't have a guy with them that they can force to ask for directions. I think prudence enters the conversation then, saying that getting more lost is even worse than admitting being lost. This is another sweeping generalization, but I think by and large women are stronger in the virtue of prudence than men are. 

The reason I bring this all up is that a friend of mine is taking his son to West Point today. Despite all the wokeness that has descended on BSA (please, don't call it Boy Scouts anymore), and the fact that they're allowing icky girls in because all Girl Scouts do is sell cookies, some boys are still working on their achievements. Today these scouts are going to work with actual soldiers on their orienteering merit badge. 

When my pal mentioned this, I thought he meant cartography, but no. In fact, much to my surprise, the BSA has never had a merit badge for cartography or mapmaking, according to Steve Henning's research-filled page on the topic. There I was, thinking that Orienteering is just another wussy, watered-down skill that replaced the more demanding cartography, as General Science replaced Zoology, but no. What it did replace was Pathfinding, which had been discontinued anyway in 1952; Orienteering came on the scene in 1973 and has remained a badge ever since. Furthermore, the Orienteering badge has a 10-page workbook with all the stuff you have to do; it made me tired just looking at it. No wonder I never got past the blue uniform.

So I've decided Orienteering really is useful. In the age of GPS we usually don't need it; nor do we need to ask directions as much as we used to. However, if it helps these boys grow into men who don't have to ever ask for directions, then I'm all for it. They're fulfilling the First Rule of Manhood, and making us old guys proud.

Little triumphs.

It was an absolutely spectacular weekend here in the lower Hudson Valley, wonderful for the graduation ceremonies at West Point. And on my little patch of paradise as well. Some may have complained that it was too cold -- 47 degrees Sunday morning -- but that was because the humidity was so low. I loved it, my wife was a fan, and our hairy dogs thought it was an early Christmas gift. Remember, we had snow suitable for making snowballs five weeks ago, so this was plenty warm enough.

Did I get a lot done? Kill the weeds, clean the fridge, repair the front walk, and all the rest on my to-do list? No, I did not. But I had my little triumphs, and in the current conditions of the year I am happily blessed for those. Here are some:

1) Watermelon! As you may recall, the last time I brought a watermelon into this house, carrying it up the cellar stairs from the garage, it turned into the worst fumble since Jeremiah Castille ruined Earnest Byner's day in 1987.  So this time I put the big ol' fruit in a paper shopping bag with handles and carefully carried it up, bracing the bottom to prevent sudden tears. It is sitting on my counter, waiting for the knife. Triumph!

2) Tomatoes! Last week I planted tomatoes in a large pot on the porch. I've done this several times since we lived here. The deer and other pests won't come on the porch, and there's a good mix of sun and shade. I've had lots of luck with red peppers, too. But since we got dogs, who famously like to dig, I have avoided putting temptation in their way. Well, my wife misses those home-grown cherry tomatoes, so I said I would try -- but I got a late start. I set up the pot on Saturday. And less than a week later....

They're growing a lot faster than my hair is from my home haircut. Triumph! (I did have to put a barrier around the pot because junior varsity dog Nipper could not tear himself away from it -- sniff sniff sniff. And we all know the sniff is the father of the dig.)

3) Mass! Saw a great Mass online. That was not what we'd hoped to do; the churches have reopened, but the restrictions for Mass are exceptionally tough to prevent a resurgence of the Chinese Death Virus. So the Archdiocese says there's still no obligation to attend Mass in person. Indeed, most of us can't; with the crowd restrictions, the church is only allowed to have about a quarter of the usual attendees. I count it as a little victory that we exercised caution and were rewarded with a wonderful homily for the Solemnity of the Body and Blood of Christ by Fr. Mike Schmitz of Ascension Presents.

4) Speech! I mentioned above the commencement at West Point. A friend a mine, lifelong Democrat, called yesterday and said he was very impressed by what he saw of the president's commencement speech on the news. I was obliged to check out the speech, and I have to agree. Very moving, very powerful. A few classic Trump flourishes, but that's our president for ya. I loved his mention of the Great Chain at West Point that saved the nation from British invasion from Canada in the Revolution -- a chain whose links we touched on our visit in 2018 -- and used it as a metaphor for the army itself, "a great chain reaching out from this place — one made not of iron, but of flesh and blood, of memory and spirit, of sheer faith and unyielding courage." That's a great chain, indeed.

Not all these li'l triumphs had anything to do with me, beyond my willingness to participate, but it's not all about me. How was your weekend?

West Point.

If you've ever been in New York's Hudson Valley, I hope you've had the time to visit West Point. This is, of course, the college of the United States Army, where the Black Knights play their home games. And as the US Military Academy it is an active college campus, albeit one where live ammunition is authorized and survival training is done on the surrounding hills. 

It's also a great place to see some American history. We were there not long ago for a little tour and a history lesson. 

I remember going when I was a Cub Scout, long before the boys' scouting organizations turned into the pantywaist outfits that they are now, and I think we were taken there to see where we might go to school if we were very smart and very tough and very dedicated and very fit. I think I failed on all four counts, but I still liked the trip.

Here's some random shots from our current-day visit, to display my lack of photographic skills and share a little trivia with you. 

View of the Mighty Hudson from the visitor's center. You can get a taste
of how lovely this river valley is from here. In autumn it is ablaze like glory.

The West Point Museum

Question: Name two Shea Stadiums in New York.

Answer: The Mets played in one Shea Stadium in Queens from 1964 to 2008. And the US Army plays lacrosse, sprint football, and various track and field events at its own Shea Stadium at West Point. (Michie Stadium is where the Black Knights play football.) The Mets' Shea was named for William Shea, who helped get the National League expansion franchise started; the Army's Shea was Richard Shea, an Army athlete was was killed in 1953 in Korea. There, now you can win a bar bet.

Very poor shot of the American Soldier's Statue (1980),
dedicated to the enlisted man. 

No history of West Point can fail to include the Great Chain, a chain of mighty links stretched across the Hudson to stop British ships coming from Canada in the Revolutionary War. When the British learned of the Great Chain and the many cannon waiting for them, they decided not to try that route. The tourists here are touching some of the actual links. Most were melted down for scrap. (The links, not the tourists.)

I'm informed by my sources in the valley that occasionally fake links show up, but there was one very famous hoax regarding the Chain (see the story here, along with a much better picture of the links).

Our guide showed us the many cannon that had been
captured in America's wars dating back to the Revolution;
1812, Spanish-American War, et al are represented. We were also
told that we no longer capture weaponry. What fun is that?

"Caution: This End Out."

Lady Fame graces the top of one of the tallest monuments in West Point, the Battle Monument of 1897, commemorating those who paid the ultimate price in the Civil War---for the North. Here the war is called the War of the Rebellion.

I was touched by everything about the monument, but I think especially these cannon on display---buried facing down, so brother may never fire upon brother again in these United States.

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One final note: We did not get to see the famous statue of General George S. Patton, at least not up close, so the picture below is not mine. It famously took the mathematically poor Patton five years to graduate the four-year program at West Point---West Point still requires students to study engineering---and when asked about that he would say, "In the whole time I was at West Point, I couldn't find the library." In his statue he is seen with a pair of binoculars.

According to Maureen Oehler DuRant and Peter E. Carroll's book West Point, from which this photo comes, Patton's widow requested that his monument be placed at the West Point library. There he stands... facing away from the building. You'll find it one day, General.