By Bob Gaydos

Following my own advice, lately I’ve been trying to maintain a sense of serenity in an increasingly untidy world by being more conscious of what’s going on in my own chunk of it. What’s going on around me and what can I do, as physicist/author Thomas Campbell says, to reduce the entropy?

In the simplest terms, which is all I’m qualified to offer, Campbell’s book, “My Big TOE (Theory of Everything)”, uses physics and mathematics to explain, among other things, that consciousness is fundamental in the universe, and that the goal of the Larger Consciousness System is reduction of entropy, or disorder.

       As part of that system, I feel I have to do my part. So I focused on my world. No politics.

     Well, the biggest news story around here has been a massive fire that has consumed acres of forest around Greenwood Lake, a lovely spot which sits on the border of New York and New Jersey. The fire has raged for days in this area, which has been uncharacteristically rain-free for weeks. I’m trying not to speculate that global warming, which some people say doesn’t exist, has had any part in this change of weather pattern.

 The positive news is that no homes have been destroyed as of this writing and no evacuations have been necessary thus far. 

    However, an 18-year-old parks employee, helping with the massive fire control effort, was killed when a tree fell on him. A tragedy. And I’ve seen no account of the significant toll the fire has surely taken on the wildlife that call the forest home.

       Connecting those dots, it has been all too easy to notice the toll taken on wildlife in my neighborhood by the confluence of mating season, the end of Daylight Savings Time and the steady increase in land development and consequent reduction of forest space for deer to live  free and safely.

     A 10-minute drive this morning produced three deer carcasses on the side of the road. Another drive the other night, about 15 minutes, resulted in close encounters with half a dozen deer.

      Four friends of mine have had direct contact with deer this season, the result being one totaled Subaru, one dead buck and three trips to the repair shop. Fortunately, none of my friends was hurt.

       Counting raccoons, squirrels, foxes and other wildlife just out there looking for some food, there were more than 35,000 animal-related crashes in New York State in 2023, according to the Institute for Traffic Safety Management & Research. That’s about one every 15 minutes. 

      My limited contribution to reducing the entropy in this regard has been to utilize my cataracts-free eyes gratefully and diligently when on the road. Really, it’s more like self-preservation.

     As I was writing this column, I noticed a hawk sitting on a branch of a tree out back. Consciousness, I said to myself. So I sat and watched the hawk as the hawk sat and watched whatever was going on in our patch of New York.

     Not much. The dogs, much too big to be prey for this predator in any case, were in the house. There were no squirrels, chipmunks or rabbits to be seen. We, the hawk and I, sat and watched for 15 minutes. Very patient bird.

      Then, suddenly, he or she took off, flying swiftly to our neighbors’ property and an apparent target of opportunity. Out of my sight. Not sure I had much effect on the entropy there.

     But, as fate, or synchronicity, would have it, just as the hawk flew off, a bulletin from The New York Times popped up on my phone. Donald Trump was planning to nominate Rep. Elise Stefanik as U.S. ambassador to the United Nations.

      Talk about potential entropy. Stefanik went from being a fairly normal middle-of-the-road Republican to a number one Trump stooge and apologist literally overnight. No qualms. No apologies. No explanation.  Like that hawk, just waiting for her opportunity.

     Yeah, it’s politics, but she’s from upstate New York and strongly supported George Santos, the phony disgraced congressman from Long Island, when he ran for Congress. We like to keep our portion of the Empire State free from such, umm, entropy sources.

      Sorry, readers. Sorry, Mr. Campbell. Guess you could call that a slip. Creature of habit. 

 

      

      

 

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By Bob Gaydos

 For most of my life, I’ve lived in small cities (Bayonne, Binghamton, Annapolis, Middletown) and one large town (Wallkill), which is really a mall-dotted highway surrounded by housing complexes. Throw in a few years living on college campuses. Basically, it’s been city or community living.

    When you live with a lot of other people close by and you want to be relatively content, you learn the rules of the road, the do’s and don’ts of getting along. Mostly, it’s mind your own business and don’t make a lot of noise.

     A few years ago, I moved to the country, a bit of upstate New York between the Hudson River and the Catskills that is often protected from major weather issues by the imposing Shawangunk Ridge.

     Country living means owls, woodpeckers, coyotes and starry skies, oh my.

     It’s nice. Well, usually. It’s quiet. Usually. In any case, it most definitely has its own rules of the road. Things a transplanted city boy ought to know. Something I call country etiquette.

     The notion (see how I used the word “notion“ instead of “idea“?) that there was such a thing as country etiquette grew out of a recent conversation about a not uncommon country experience.

     A couple of years ago, our quiet summer evening at home was disrupted by a loud squealing of tires and a loud thud. Right in front of our house.

     We rushed out to find a car sitting in a culvert in front of our house, a distraught young woman sitting behind the wheel and our mailbox on the ground, post and all. I don’t recall who called 911, but state police arrived quickly, talked with the driver (who was shaken but not hurt), someone called a tow truck, we went back in the house and eventually everything was back to normal, except for the mailbox. Its career was over.

      In short order, we replaced the mailbox and occasionally wondered what happened to the young driver. I suspected alcohol may have been involved.

     A couple of weeks later, the whole scene repeated itself. Nighttime. Squeal. Thud. Car. Culvert. Young woman driver. Unhurt. Mailbox kaput.

     Deja vu all over again, as Yogi Berra once said. Same follow up. Police. Tow truck. Mailbox flattened.

      Again, we replaced it and the new one has survived ever since. But here’s the thing. Neither driver offered to pay to replace the mailbox (they both got out of their cars and talked to us) or to have it repaired. Now, it seems to me that a basic rule of country etiquette ought to be that if you wipe out someone’s mailbox (and get caught at it), the decent thing to do is to make it right again. Pay for a new one.

      And that’s what got me thinking about other rules of country etiquette. What are some things to help someone new get along with neighbors who may not live right next door? Here’s what I’ve come up with so far:

— Having a handy supply of eggs is nice, but keep your chickens in your own yard as much as possible. Free range doesn’t mean the whole neighborhood, or, especially, the busy road.

— Don’t shovel your driveway snow into the road. It’s only extra work for the highway crews and it’s dangerous.

— When driving, wave at people walking along country roads. It’s neighborly.

— Walkers, please wear reflective clothing at night. It’s awfully dark out there sometimes and the roads are often winding and have no shoulder. We’d like to get to know you.

— Don’t let your dog walk on the road side. Preferably, don’t walk your dog on the road at all. Some drivers are less attentive than others. (See reference to mailboxes above.) And yes, clean up.

— Slow down for people at their mailbox. (A personal peeve of mine.) You can even wave.

— In fact, slow down in general. Posted speed limits are not merely suggestions.

— Be patient with a farm tractor on the road. He’ll be out of your way shortly, or he’ll pull over as soon as he can. He’s working.

— Be honest at roadside honor stands. Act like there are cameras in the trees.

— Free stuff at the foot of a driveway is really free. If you want it, take it. Someone always does.

— If you’re not going to back up a lot of traffic, be nice and let people back out of their driveways. It can be tricky sometimes.

    That’s what I came up with so far. If you have other suggestions, please leave them in the comment section.

    While I’m at it, I figure I might as well add another feature of country living — a potpourri of handmade road signs. Here are a few I noticed this past year:

— Corn maze, hay ride, pumpkins, pickles, sweet corn

— Beef sale

— Fresh garlic

— Sunflower patch, mums, hay for sale

— Farm fresh eggs

— U pick pumpkins

— Fresh key lime pie, 

— We buy ATVs dead or alive

     Like I said, nice.

     ‘Til next time at pet-friendly Tractor Supply.

rjgaydos@gmail.com