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IT’S OFFICIAL!

My yard has been certified as a Wildlife Habitat.

This is the sign that officially makes my yard a Certified Wildlife Habitat by the National Wlldlife Federation. Photo by Mariah Chase.
© Norine Dresser photo collection, 2020.

Since I first moved into my Las Cruces home in 2012, I have been birdwatching in the backyard. Although I would love to be a real birdwatcher and travel the world, or even closer, to observe our feathered companions, that is pretty hard to do when using a cane, as I must do. Birdwatching requires looking up with full attention. But looking up is hazardous for a klutz like me with natural tendencies to trip and fall. The only solution is to have a stationary bird center where I can observe from the stable environment of my dining room table.

What does it take to have one’s yard become a certified Wildlife Habitat? Naturally, food is one of the first requirements. I installed bird feeders right away. I ordered the usual supplies: bird seed; suet blocks; quail blocks; bark butter bits; worms. When the sales person at Wild Birds Unlimited asked whether I wanted live worms or dried worms, I made a quick decision, “Dead ones, please.” Why? Because if I ordered live ones, I would have to feed them celery every ten days and store them in the fridge. That became my line in the sand, and I opted out.

Another necessity is water. In addition to a solar-powered fountain that sits on the ground, I also have two other pans where they can drink. However, birds don’t follow my rules. Some bathe in the water rather than drink there. Others do both.

One must also provide a place where birds can shelter their young. I ordered two different kinds of bird houses and picked the perfect spot to place them. However, my backyard adviser, Liza Chase, warned me that if I used that chosen location there was too much sun and the hatchlings would cook in our desert sun. OOPS! The bird houses now sit in the shade of a tree.

So far, these are two different styles of bird houses. The upper photo shows a more standard bird house for finches, while the lower photo shows multiplex living quarters, also for finches that abound in the yard. © Norine Dresser photo collection, 2020.
Gambel’s Quail resemble California Quail. This photo is a bit misleading because the yellow on its chest is actually more like a creamy white. Its black mask and orange cap indicate that this is a male.

My favorite visitors to the yard are the Gambel’s Quail. When I see their bobbing top-knots as they scurry around the yard, I automatically smile. They are my daily meditation as I get caught up in watching their dramas: taking dust baths in the holes dug for them by the bunnies; keeping track of their errant young – and there is always one straggler; one standing sentry at the top of the fence overlooking the brood and ready to sound an alarm if danger approaches. And they are the best parents. They tend to their young for a long time, guiding them even as late as their teenage years, yet nothing is as precious as seeing parents escorting a string of baby feather balls.

Did you know that Roadrunners are a part of the Cuckoo family? And that
seems so appropriate, too, because they are such silly looking birds. I love it when they visit my yard, although their presence frightens some of the smaller birds.

Roadrunners make me laugh. The yard mostly clears when they are around, although surprisingly, I’ve observed a bunny chasing one off. I can only surmise that baby bunnies must have been hiding nearby. While they are in the yard, they are usually on the hunt for lizards. When I first started learning about birds, I told Kristi Lane, the owner of my local Wild Birds Unlimited store, I wanted to feed them, too. That inclination was squashed when she said, “They’re carnivores, you know.” And they have a bad reputation for eating quail eggs.

Cooper’s Hawks are predators that visit
my yard. They are rather small for hawks, but that speckled chest is an easy identifier.

Birdwatching has its dark side, too. Sometimes a Cooper’s Hawk will chase a dove into one of my large dining room windows. The crash into the window creates a sickening “thud” that reverberates through the house. Then after the stunned bird falls to the ground, the hawk pounces; feathers fly, and the hawk devours its prey. That doesn’t sit well while I’m having my lunch.

You can learn a lot by watching the backyard action. Pecking order has real meaning. At the bottom of the pecking order are the mourning doves but the white winged doves have priority over them. And the quail have seniority over the doves.

Knowing how much delight I receive from bird watching, Liza came up with a great idea. she thought I would enjoy hearing them, too. She set up a baby monitoring system so that I can hear them when I am in my bedroom and in the dining room. After a short while, I have become quite adept at distinguishing between bird sounds. The only creepy part is at night when I hear unfamiliar sounds, and it’s too dark out there to identify the culprit.

Other regular visitors to my yard are grackles, who elicit the response, “The sky is falling,” because they commonly look skyward; finches of many varieties; curved bill thrashers; hummingbirds; pyrrhuloxia (a kind of cardinal); sparrows; and mockingbirds.

This plaque was a gift from my dear friends, Mariah Chase and Roxana Gillett. Roxana participated in the gift despite my having previously gifted her with twelve pink flamingos that did not thrill her. The flamingos have since migrated to my yard where they have multiplied over the years. The bunny (Cottontails) population in New Mexico has greatly diminished due to some pandemic that has been causing their deaths. Now instead of having three to five every day, I only have one.

During this pandemic, I have been enjoying ZOOM meetings of the Audubon Society. Recently, one presenter said, “Birdwatching keeps you sane.” I must agree with her. Each morning as I record how many infections and deaths have occurred in Doña Ana County in the last 24 hours, I then turn my head to watch the birds and surrender my worries.

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Norine Dresser is a folklorist who has always loved birds. When living in Los Angeles, the Scrub Jays depended on her for daily doses of peanuts that they took from her hands. When they saw her car pull into the garage, they sat on the front steps hand railing and squawked at her to let her know they were hungry.

norinedresser.org

Visit my Gallery of Folklore & Popular Culture: flpcgallery.org

celebrations, customs/rituals, health, parties

Bob Dylan Was Right: The Times They Are a-Changin’

And Here’s the Reason Why – The Covid-19 Virus

I purchased this Covid-19 piñata from a piñata and popsicle shop here in Las Cruces, NM. Since no face-to-face parties are safe during the pandemic, I am hoping to smash it in October 2021, at my 90th birthday party. Hopefully, by then we will have a safe vaccine available. © Norine Dresser photo collection, 2021.
I purchased this Covid-19 piñata at a piñata and popsicle shop in Las Cruces, NM. Since face-to-face celebrations are unsafe during this pandemic year, I am hoping to smash it in October, 2021 at my 90th birthday party. Hopefully, by then we will have a safe vaccine available. © Norine Dresser photo collection, 2020.

During this 2020 Pandemic we are sheltering in place and keeping our social distances, but leading a sedentary lifestyle brings changes:

       We are gaining weight;

       Our pets are gaining weight;

       Bra sales are down;

       High heel sales are down by 70%;

       Pajamas and lounge wear sales are up;

       Lipstick sales are down (it smears inside a mask);

       Eye makeup sales are up;

      Single folks who are dating now concern themselves with, “What mask shall I wear?”

Since going to movies and dining inside restaurants is limited, we must content ourselves with home-based entertainment. Thus we are transported to places all over the world via TV streaming or ZOOM activities on our computers. I do both.

Last week, I visited the moon with NASA and saw close-ups of its peaks and craters. I’ve gone bird watching in Utah with the Audubon Society; I went on a pilgrimage with the Chinese Historical Society of Southern California to Yosemite to learn about the role of the Chinese as trail cooks and laundry workers in the National Parks;  In the Catskills, I listened to a band composed of Irving Berlin’s great-grandchildren playing great-grandpa’s tunes; I attended the Roswell, NM Jazz Festival to learn about the music of Duke Ellington; I toured three ghost towns in New Mexico; I wept at three different funerals: Catholic, Buddhist, Jewish.

I’ve ZOOMED to the Fowler Museum at UCLA for two Learn and Lunch sessions, one on Voudun flags from Haiti, the other on elaborate headdresses from Sierra Leone. I traveled to the Museum of the Jewish People in Tel Aviv; In Cuba, I enjoyed the music of an outstanding female trio, the Vocal Vidas, and I learned about St. Joseph Tables from the Italian American Museum on Olvera Street. In New York, I celebrated Stephen Sondheim’s 90th birthday party, where Broadway singers belted out his tunes. I’ve visited book clubs, meetings of the Las Cruces Press Women, and weekly gatherings of the Las Cruces Ukes. Once you start exploring online, the opportunities are endless. 

Despite ZOOM transporting us all over the globe for stimulating events, they can’t replace the experience of being with real people. That rarity happened when I attended a drive-through Jewish ceremony for Ephraim Schmukler’s first haircut, called an Upshearin. Ephraim is the three-year-old son of Rabbi Bery and Chenchie Schmukler, co-directors of the Alevy Chabad Jewish Center of Southern New Mexico. In addition to a boy’s first haircut at age three, the boy also accepts his responsibility to begin studying the Torah. 

Ephraim Schmukler, three-years-old, sitting under an archway of balloons before his hair-cutting ceremony. © Norine Dresser photo collection, 2020.

Several years prior, I attended the Upshearin of Ephraim’s older brother, Ari. At that time, the number of party goers numbered about fifty, held indoors with fabulous decorations and food prepared by his talented mother. The highlight was having every person step up to cut off one lock of the boy’s hair, in exchange for a donation to charity.

At the drive-through Upshearin, we received a packet of goodies, including cookies that were the birthday boy’s favorites. Then as we drove out, an attendant gave each of us a sno-cone to offset the oppressive desert heat of that day.

Las Cruces’ Tropical Shaved Kona Ice truck provided much-needed respite from the desert heat. © Norine Dresser photo collection, 2020.

Since I arrived at the tail-end of the event, Ephraim’s mom invited me out of my car to snip a lock of her young son’s hair. Actually touching this child’s soft silky curls was startling. When was the last time I touched a baby’s hair? This simple gesture reminded me of how much we have lost during this pandemic beyond those who have perished.

Norine, the Barber. What an honor to touch and cut this sweet baby’s hair. © Norine Dresser photo collection, 2020.

We crave human contact. We need hugs and human touch, actions that ZOOM cannot provide. Alas, we must wait until such time when human interactions are safe. In the meanwhile, I guess I’ll just have to content myself with hugging my cat for the twenty seconds per day she allots me.

Norine Dresser is a folklorist who has taken sheltering-in-place as a mandate.

norinedresser.org

Visit her Gallery of Folklore & Popular Culture: flpcgallery.org

customs/rituals, folklore, health

Quackery

Phrenology: While not an exact example of quackery, this was a bogus method of diagnosing human behavior popular in the 18th and 19th centuries. By examining the shape and unevenness of a head or skull, one could discover the organs responsible for different intellectual aptitudes and character traits using the above skull map. Photo by Mariah Chase. ©Norine Dresser photo collection, 2020.

 

JIM BAKKER SUED BY SECOND STATE FOR SELLING FAKE CORONAVIRUS CURE screamed the headline sourced by CBS News. Both Missouri and Arkansas claimed that Bakker and his Morningside Church Productions bilked consumers out of over $120,00 for colloidal silver, a product sold on the internet as a dietary supplement. However, ingesting this substance is toxic and can cause Argyria that can permanently turn the skin a bluish-grey. Regardless, Bakker advertised that his Silver Solution totally eliminated the virus, killed it, deactivated it.

According to Lydia Kang, M.D., and Nate Pedersen, co-authors of  Quackery: A Brief History of the Worst Ways to Cure Everything (New York: Workman, 2017), purveyors of sham cures prey on our fears of death or sickness. They hawk substances that don’t work, that hurt and even kill us. Sometimes the sellers truly believe their potions are effective; more frequently, they are being deceptive with intent to cash in on a catastrophe.

The COVID-19 pandemic offers a perfect opportunity for charlatans to take advantage of our anxiety about this invisible killer. An online Newsweek headline reads: Coronavirus Quack Cures Like Cow Urine, Fasting and Cognac Are Being Promoted by Authority Figures Around the World.

In Kenya, Nairobi Governor Mike Sonko promoted drinking cognac as an antidote for the disease. Elsewhere in India, party agendas included the drinking of cow urine as a cure for the virus. As absurd as that may seem, in the past, U.S. physicians touted ingesting  Premarin to reduce hot flashes of menopausal women. And how is Premarin made? From the urine of pregnant horses.

President Trump got into the action when he suggested injecting household disinfectant  as a possible cure for the Covid-19 Virus along with internally using ultra-violet light. The scientific world metaphorically groaned. (Isn’t that when Dr. Fauci covered his face?) Not only were these cures invalid but could lead to death. His pseudo-remedies inspired many Facebook jokes and satires. For example, Randy Rainbow, popular online parodist, wrote and sang: “Just a spoonful of Clorox makes your temperature go down….”

The WHO was not amused claiming that drinking anything with bleach in it can cause severe vomiting, severe diarrhea, life-threatening low blood pressure caused by dehydration and acute liver failure. A less toxic treatment in China caused some people to hold exactly seven peppercorns under their tongues to ward off the COVID-19.

Fortunately, there is a dependable online source called “Quackwatch.org” run by a Dr. Stephen Barrett. He calls it “Your Guide to Quackery, Health, Fraud, and Intelligent Decisions.” And he has been a good health crusader for over two decades.

Barrett posts numerous categories of COVID-19 scams including: Prevention (phony dietary supplements that boost immune systems); Testing (fake at-home kits, door-to-door sales people); Mask Exemption cards (no such things); Treatments (fake cures); Supply (phony salespeople who take your money and run).

These are scary times being surrounded by an unseen foe. The danger cannot be understated. Personally, two of my friends got the virus, but only one survived. In Sunset Park, Brooklyn, two dozen refrigerated trucks currently hold over 1,300 frozen victims awaiting burial. The bodies remain in limbo while families decide how they want their loved ones buried or come up with the money to pay for funerals.

Be careful. Discuss your concerns and plans of action with medical personnel, and observe recommendations for masks, avoiding crowds, and social distancing. To use an old maxim, Better Safe than Sorry.

                                                                   ###

Norine Dresser is a folklorist who takes the Shelter-in-Place recommendation seriously. The evidence? Check out her now long and greying hair.

Website: norinedresser.org

Gallery of Folklore & Popular Culture: flpcgallery.org

 

 

 

customs/rituals, death, death rituals, religion

Share the Vigil

In NYC, white refrigerated trucks hold corpses, victims of the COVID-19 virus.

I don’t know about you, but I feel so helpless during this Covid-19 outbreak. I am horrified by the accelerating numbers of infections and deaths. Besides trying to keep myself healthy and avoid spreading the virus, what can I do to help?

Physical limitations prevent me from volunteering, for example, at food banks. I have donated money to hard-hit communities, like the near-by Navajo Nation and to more local charities. But writing a check is not enough.

My solution arrived in the form of a recent email from Rabbi Regina Sandler-Phillips. Over ten years ago, I interviewed her for a book I co-authored (with Fredda Wasserman) called Saying Goodbye to Someone You Love: Your Emotional Journey Through End of Life and Grief. (New York: Demos, 2010.)

She expanded my knowledge about the Jewish tradition of preparing bodies for burial. Now she is involved with an interfaith organization that spiritually stays with the rapidly accumulating bodies in New York, and elsewhere in the world, until they are finally laid to rest.

Sandler-Phillips participates in an interfaith organization called, Sharing a Vigil for the COVID-19 Dead. Volunteers take shifts to focus on the dead while saying prayers, reciting poems, reading literature, playing music, or even remaining silent. This remote vigil-keeping is a way to bear witness and extend ultimate kindness to ALL dead – near and far, whether named or unknown.

When the Rabbi asked for volunteers, I signed up. I told her that every night in Las Cruces, between 11 p.m. until midnight, I would sing songs and accompany myself on the ukulele, while concentrating on the bodies elsewhere. Given the dire predictions about second waves of infection, this job will no doubt last for months, even longer.

Ordinarily, around 10:30 p.m., I am either at my computer in my office or streaming TV in the living room. I turn off the electronics and enter my bedroom for nightly ablutions before changing into my bedclothes. When I purchased the house, I loved having a reading nook inside the master bedroom. Years ago, I converted that space into a music nook that is ideal for my new endeavor, an improvised sanctuary.

Shortly before 11 p.m., I tune my ukulele and adjust the music stand holding a book of ukulele tunes, one for each day. Then at precisely 11 p.m., I begin to sing and play appropriate tunes. (I passed on Won’t You Come Home Bill Bailey?) While singing and playing, I visually focus on a sight that will never leave me — in New York City, large white refrigerated trucks, temporary morgues, that are crammed with bodies awaiting their final disposition. The thought of these lonely crowded bodies fills me with great sadness.

For one hour, I sing and play songs on my ukulele, keeping company with the bodies of all faiths as well as no faith. My house is quiet: the neighborhood has mostly gone to sleep; and there I sit unselfconsciously singing.

Whereas in the past, when I entered my bedroom at night, I immediately turned on the TV listening to a wrap-up of the day’s news followed by watching one of the late-night TV comedians.

However, my new routine has brought surprises. When I enter my bedroom, I can no longer turn on the TV.  And after I am finished at midnight, once more, I can no longer turn on the TV. Somehow, this new late night routine has become sanctified, and I cannot pollute it with gags and nonsense. It’s as if I have divided my house into new zones: the sacred and the profane.

This new and moving experience satisfies my need to meaningfully participate in one of the most horrendous events of a lifetime.

 

 

Norine Dresser is a folklorist who strongly disagrees with those who want to end the corona virus lockdown and reopen businesses prematurely.

 

norinedresser.org

For more information about Sharing the Vigil, visit http://waysofpeace.org/share-the-vigil

Cultural differences, customs/rituals, health, hygiene

Bottom’s Up!

 

Coveted roll of toilet paper during the Covid-19 Pandemic. © Norine Dresser photo collection, 2020.

 

What’s with all the toilet paper hoarding here in the U.S.? Does it seem strange to you? Truthfully, tell me how many rolls do you have in reserve?

Toilet paper has become such a treasured item, that when my Passover Seder meal was delivered from the Alevy Chabad Jewish Center here in Las Cruces, they also brought a cellophane-wrapped TP roll as a bonus.

I can’t say for sure, but in my memory when I was a child I used an outhouse while staying at my paternal grandparents’ cabin near Carbon Canyon in Southern California. I can’t remember what we used to clean ourselves afterward, but in stories and in films it seemed that it was either magazine or newspaper pages.

Sharon Hudgins, in a letter to the New Yorker, recalls teaching in post-Soviet Russian during the 1990s. At her university, there was no toilet paper at all. Instead they used pages from old textbooks on Marxism-Leninism.

I’ve read numerous articles about why we hoard toilet paper, and the one that resonates most with me is that we are attempting to exert control over our lives at a time when deadly circumstances are beyond our control.

Much of our TP panic is culturally motivated. There are other parts of the world where toilet paper is not the preferred method of cleaning one’s bum.

Multi-functional watering can for those who prefer water for after- toilet cleansing.  © Norine Dresser photo collection, 2020.

 

While living in Southern California, I used to visit some Iranian Muslim friends. I noted a watering can in each bathroom. They informed me that in Iran, most homes had bidets because they believe that water is the most hygienic way to clean one’s self. Since most American bathrooms lack bidets, having a watering can nearby can simulate the effect.

Water is the preferred cleansing method in many parts of Asia, India, Islamic Middle East, and Europe. In Italy, in 1975, a hygiene law stated: “For each accommodation, at least one bathroom must be equipped with the following sanitary facilities: toilet, bidet, bath or shower, washbasin.

During this pandemic crisis, some Americans have reconsidered that if they had bidets, they wouldn’t have to depend so much on toilet paper.

According to an article in the Guardian, if Americans gave up toilet paper, they could keep 15m trees from being turned into pulp every year. Manufacturing a roll of toilet paper requires 37 gallons a roll. Bidets save both trees and water, using only one-eighth a gallon per flush.

Jason Ojalvo, CEO of Tushy, a bidet company founded in 2015, claims that in the first week of March, 2020, sales doubled, then two days later sales tripled; then it was 10 times the normal sales. A few days after that, business peaked at a million-dollar sales per day.

Visitors to Japan marvel at their toilets. They have heated seats; posterior and front washes; adjustable water temperature; nozzle sterilization; adjustable water pressure; air deodorizer; white noise, even classical music to mask natural sounds; automatic lids and seats that lift up and down; with additional features of self-flushing; self-cleaning; warm dry air or air conditioning for hot days.

The newest trend has a small water basin located on top of the tank cover. After toileting, people wash their hands, then flush the used water from the basin that then drains into the tank and into the bowl.

 

Before flushing, user washes hands in basin attached to water tank.

 

So how much will one of these fancy toilets cost? Fifty K more or less. I’m afraid that’s not within my budget, but I can dream, can’t I?

 

Norine Dresser is a folklorist who would love to have one of those fancy Japanese toilets.

 

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