Ever notice how, in August, you're more likely to see news about, say, off street parking or prize beagles on the front page? It's called the silly season. I read a post on Boston.com about this phenomenon: what Miriam Webster online says is "a period (as late summer) when the mass media often focus on trivial or frivolous matters for lack of major news stories."
Which reminds me of what happened when I went to Vidiconnections, to get pictures of their antenna farm. Howard Leland was there, too: at their public access
television center, LFTV, taping a sort of infomercial.
I thought he'd be plugging his Loonfoot Falls Museum of Lint and Gum Wrappers. He explained that plans weren't far enough along to make a public appeal. His goal that day was to raise awareness and funds for the SPCD, or Society for the Prevention of Continental Drift.
I'll say this for Howard Leland: his sense of civic duty is quite well developed. He has, for a time, set aside his dream of a museum celebrating undervalued cultural treasures: in a quest to stop North America's reckless march westward.
He was quite disappointed that LFTV wouldn't air a program by SPCD's candidate in the midterm election, and even more disappointed when I wouldn't sign SPCD's latest petition to Congress.
He perked up considerably when I agreed to let everyone reading this column know that he'd be on LFTV, warning of the dangers of continental drift, next Wednesday at 10:30 p.m.
Showing posts with label Howard Leland. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Howard Leland. Show all posts
Friday, August 20, 2010
Friday, August 6, 2010
Dust Bunnies are Not Lint!
Howard Leland found me in the Whistle Stop Cafe this week, and informed me that dust bunnies are not lint. And that this distinction is very important.
He also discussed his plans for the Loonfoot Falls Museum of Lint and Gum Wrappers. As I reported in April, his dream was to open a lint museum here in Loonfoot Falls. On consideration, he told me, he realized that as fascinating as lint is, it might prove challenging to provide a sufficiently varied array of displays on the subject.
Gum wrappers was an obvious choice, he explained, since those are often found mingled with lint when one empties one's pockets. Besides, there's a remarkable variety of gum wrappers.
The inner wrappings around individual sticks come in two basic varieties: single layers of paper or similar material; and double layers with paper inside and foil outside. The paper wrappers, of course, often are printed with the brand name: and occasionally are unmarked.
Remarkable.
Outer wrappings, enclosing several sticks, are what Howard Leland finds most interesting, though. He showed me a scrapbook he happened to have with him, where he has cataloged and categorized gum wrappers by brand, type, color, and historical period.
Inside the back cover of the scrapbook he had an envelope full of sketches of displays. His favorite was the interactive lint table. That was a large tray holding lint and lint cards: things that look like horse brushes. He figures folks will love playing with lint.
He may be right.
He also discussed his plans for the Loonfoot Falls Museum of Lint and Gum Wrappers. As I reported in April, his dream was to open a lint museum here in Loonfoot Falls. On consideration, he told me, he realized that as fascinating as lint is, it might prove challenging to provide a sufficiently varied array of displays on the subject.
Gum wrappers was an obvious choice, he explained, since those are often found mingled with lint when one empties one's pockets. Besides, there's a remarkable variety of gum wrappers.
The inner wrappings around individual sticks come in two basic varieties: single layers of paper or similar material; and double layers with paper inside and foil outside. The paper wrappers, of course, often are printed with the brand name: and occasionally are unmarked.
Remarkable.
Outer wrappings, enclosing several sticks, are what Howard Leland finds most interesting, though. He showed me a scrapbook he happened to have with him, where he has cataloged and categorized gum wrappers by brand, type, color, and historical period.
Inside the back cover of the scrapbook he had an envelope full of sketches of displays. His favorite was the interactive lint table. That was a large tray holding lint and lint cards: things that look like horse brushes. He figures folks will love playing with lint.
He may be right.
Friday, April 16, 2010
Under-Appreciated Lint
If you were one of the folks who signed that petition from the Society for the Prevention of Continental Drift, Howard Leland has another great cause you may want to support.
I ran into Howard this week, at the Whistle Stop Café. While I finished my coffee, he educated me on the subject of lint. You know? That stuff you find in your pocket and the clothes dryer filter.
Seems that many people think lint is useless: a nuisance at best, and sometimes a fire hazard.
That view, Howard told me, was very short-sighted and ill-informed. Then he generously shared his accumulated store of lint lore.
Take lint as a fire hazard, for example. Lint building up in your dryer filter can ignite and burn down your home. But lint makes good kindling when you want to start fires.
Need modeling clay? Take lint, flour and water: and you've got a sort of substitute for modeling clay. Lint, by itself, or stuck to construction paper, is a fair substitute for cotton balls: so a person could sculpt clouds and snowmen from the stuff. Families with school-age kids: take note.
Stuff lint in tube socks, and you've got a draft-stopper for the bottom of doors.
Lint makes decent compost: or you can use it to make homemade paper.
And, if you've got any lint left over after that, leave outside. Birds can use lint for nesting material.
Howard Leland's dream is to open a Museum of Lint here in Loonfoot Falls.
I ran into Howard this week, at the Whistle Stop Café. While I finished my coffee, he educated me on the subject of lint. You know? That stuff you find in your pocket and the clothes dryer filter.
Seems that many people think lint is useless: a nuisance at best, and sometimes a fire hazard.
That view, Howard told me, was very short-sighted and ill-informed. Then he generously shared his accumulated store of lint lore.
Take lint as a fire hazard, for example. Lint building up in your dryer filter can ignite and burn down your home. But lint makes good kindling when you want to start fires.
Need modeling clay? Take lint, flour and water: and you've got a sort of substitute for modeling clay. Lint, by itself, or stuck to construction paper, is a fair substitute for cotton balls: so a person could sculpt clouds and snowmen from the stuff. Families with school-age kids: take note.
Stuff lint in tube socks, and you've got a draft-stopper for the bottom of doors.
Lint makes decent compost: or you can use it to make homemade paper.
And, if you've got any lint left over after that, leave outside. Birds can use lint for nesting material.
Howard Leland's dream is to open a Museum of Lint here in Loonfoot Falls.
Friday, December 11, 2009
Howard Leland and the SPCD
Someone wanting to drift anonymously through life shouldn't live in a small town. It's like the old joke says: "If you can't remember what you did today, ask someone - they'll know."
So, it was a bit of a surprise to be when I learned that Howard Leland, someone I've known for years, is a long-time member of the SPCD.
I made the discovery, talking about the news with him last week. I mentioned an article about plate tectonics, which led to Howard Leland explaining a few things to me.
For years now, America has been drifting away from Europe. Literally. At a rate of 2 point five centimeters a year. That doesn't sound like much, but it adds up. The Atlantic is a dozen feet wider now than it was back in 1866 when the first trans-Atlantic cable was completed.
Obviously, Mr. Leland said, there has been a great deal of needless expense: repairing and replacing cables as North America moved west.
It's more than cables, of course. As North America and others drift recklessly around, their movement causes earthquakes, volcanic eruptions: and even, as mountains grow and oceans change shape, climate change.
The SPCD, or Society for the Prevention of Continental Drift, wants to change all that. They've sent petitions to Congress, and are raising funds for a national advertising campaign.
Mr. Leland was disappointed when I didn't sign the SPCD petition. As a sort of recompense, I thought I'd alert my readers to the perils of continental drift.
So, it was a bit of a surprise to be when I learned that Howard Leland, someone I've known for years, is a long-time member of the SPCD.
I made the discovery, talking about the news with him last week. I mentioned an article about plate tectonics, which led to Howard Leland explaining a few things to me.
For years now, America has been drifting away from Europe. Literally. At a rate of 2 point five centimeters a year. That doesn't sound like much, but it adds up. The Atlantic is a dozen feet wider now than it was back in 1866 when the first trans-Atlantic cable was completed.
Obviously, Mr. Leland said, there has been a great deal of needless expense: repairing and replacing cables as North America moved west.
It's more than cables, of course. As North America and others drift recklessly around, their movement causes earthquakes, volcanic eruptions: and even, as mountains grow and oceans change shape, climate change.
The SPCD, or Society for the Prevention of Continental Drift, wants to change all that. They've sent petitions to Congress, and are raising funds for a national advertising campaign.
Mr. Leland was disappointed when I didn't sign the SPCD petition. As a sort of recompense, I thought I'd alert my readers to the perils of continental drift.
Howard Leland: It All Began With Butterflies
The full list of columns featuring Howard Leland, one of Loonfoot Falls' more earnest citizens, has been moved to "".
Here's where Howard first appeared:
Here's where Howard first appeared:
- "Loonfoot Falls' Backyard Butterfly Preserves"
(August 23, 2008)
Friday, November 13, 2009
Tofu Turkey: No Kidding
You may remember Howard Leland, proponent of the 'natural yard,' member of the Asclepias Society member, and defender of zombie ants.
He's decided that he won't contribute to the annual slaughter of turkeys this year. He told me that he's going to feast on a concoction of tofu, sage, rosemary and thyme. No parsley, though. The recipe also calls for vinegar (balsamic, not that ordinary kind), red wine, Dijon mustard, soy sauce, and a few other ingredients.
Turns out, "balsamic vinegar" isn't vinegar at all. It's not made from wine, but from grape pressings that get boiled down and aged. The source I used said that it got popular in America after chefs at upscale restaurants started using it. No wonder balsamic vinegar was new to me. I'm more a Captain Blimpo Lindenburger kind of guy.
I'd have thought that starting with five blocks of well-pressed curdled soybean milk would be enough soy product: but Mr. Leland showed me the recipe, and soy sauce is there, on top of the hefty dose of tofu.
And, I learned that there's a commercial product called Tofurky®: Made, naturally, in a very vegan way with no "genetically engineered foods." That must take some doing, since soybeans have been a domesticated plant for about 31 centuries now.
I had a very interesting talk with Howard Leland, learned how enthusiastic he is about his latest project, and suggested that he see if he could make vegan tofu turkey: with cranberry flavor mixed in before baking.
He's decided that he won't contribute to the annual slaughter of turkeys this year. He told me that he's going to feast on a concoction of tofu, sage, rosemary and thyme. No parsley, though. The recipe also calls for vinegar (balsamic, not that ordinary kind), red wine, Dijon mustard, soy sauce, and a few other ingredients.
Turns out, "balsamic vinegar" isn't vinegar at all. It's not made from wine, but from grape pressings that get boiled down and aged. The source I used said that it got popular in America after chefs at upscale restaurants started using it. No wonder balsamic vinegar was new to me. I'm more a Captain Blimpo Lindenburger kind of guy.
I'd have thought that starting with five blocks of well-pressed curdled soybean milk would be enough soy product: but Mr. Leland showed me the recipe, and soy sauce is there, on top of the hefty dose of tofu.
And, I learned that there's a commercial product called Tofurky®: Made, naturally, in a very vegan way with no "genetically engineered foods." That must take some doing, since soybeans have been a domesticated plant for about 31 centuries now.
I had a very interesting talk with Howard Leland, learned how enthusiastic he is about his latest project, and suggested that he see if he could make vegan tofu turkey: with cranberry flavor mixed in before baking.
Friday, August 7, 2009
Amber Defenders and the Zombie Ant
Howard Leland got bad news last month, from the Asclepias Society. It's official now, he told me: The society is interested in butterflies of any species. But not ants.
Mr. Leland is determined to save ants of the world from insensitive scientists, and is pursuing that goal with the zeal he’s shown for promoting butterfly preserves and sustainable leaf blowers.
Some people might have learned of the indignities suffered by a zombie ant, and remained unmoved. Not Howard Leland.
A lesser man might have been discouraged by the Asclepias Society's lack of cooperation. For Howard Leland, it was a call to action.
He's organizing the Amber Defenders: People protecting ants from indignities; even as amber has defended ancestral ants' remains from the ravages of time.
Looking at it that way, it's sort of heroic and poetic.
Howard Leland's told me, several times, the incident whose retelling inspired him.
About fifty years ago, an innocent ant got swabbed by oleic acid. No harm done, physically, but Mr. Leland’s sure the ant suffered emotional distress.
After ants have been dead for a few days they start giving off oleic acid. Ants rely heavily on smells to keep track of things, so that very-much-alive ant registered as "dead" to its colony-mates.
As far as other ants were concerned, they had a dead ant walking. For two hours, the zombie ant was picked up, carried to the colony's 'graveyard' pile, over and over.
So far, the Amber Defenders has three members, including Mr. Leland.
Related posts:
Mr. Leland is determined to save ants of the world from insensitive scientists, and is pursuing that goal with the zeal he’s shown for promoting butterfly preserves and sustainable leaf blowers.
Some people might have learned of the indignities suffered by a zombie ant, and remained unmoved. Not Howard Leland.
A lesser man might have been discouraged by the Asclepias Society's lack of cooperation. For Howard Leland, it was a call to action.
He's organizing the Amber Defenders: People protecting ants from indignities; even as amber has defended ancestral ants' remains from the ravages of time.
Looking at it that way, it's sort of heroic and poetic.
Howard Leland's told me, several times, the incident whose retelling inspired him.
About fifty years ago, an innocent ant got swabbed by oleic acid. No harm done, physically, but Mr. Leland’s sure the ant suffered emotional distress.
After ants have been dead for a few days they start giving off oleic acid. Ants rely heavily on smells to keep track of things, so that very-much-alive ant registered as "dead" to its colony-mates.
As far as other ants were concerned, they had a dead ant walking. For two hours, the zombie ant was picked up, carried to the colony's 'graveyard' pile, over and over.
So far, the Amber Defenders has three members, including Mr. Leland.
Related posts:
- "Save the Ants!"
(April 3, 2009) - "About Leaf Blowers, Wild Flowers, and Raking"
(October 11, 2008) - "Loonfoot Falls' Backyard Butterfly Preserves"
(August 23, 2008)
Friday, April 3, 2009
Save the Ants!
Howard Leland, listening to All Things Considered last Wednesday, was appalled at what he heard. It was, in part, an account of how a respected scholar displayed blatant disregard for the safety of an ant.
Back in the fifties, I gather, a researcher named E. O. Wilson swabbed an innocent ant with oleic acid. That didn't hurt the ant directly. However, since oleic acid is what dead ants give off after a couple of days, other ants in the colony reacted to the very much living ant as though it were a little formican corpse.
For two hours, the swabbed ant endured the indignity, Mr. Leland explained to me, of being picked up, carried to the colony's 'graveyard' pile, and dumped there.
Howard Leland was never one to ignore a vital issue. In 2005, he was among the first in Loonfoot Falls to make his back yard a butterfly preserve. More recently, his stand against noise pollution led to a neighborhood discussion of noise: and a resolution to the leaf blower issue.
This week, Howard Leland has a new cause. He is determined to save the ants from uncaring researchers. He tells me that his letter to the Asclepias Society has not yet been answered.
"It's a long shot, anyway," Mr. Leland said, "the society's charter specifically limits its interests to monarch butterflies: but I felt I had to ask."
If you live in Loonfoot Falls, Howard Leland will probably ask you to join his cause. Just letting you know.
Back in the fifties, I gather, a researcher named E. O. Wilson swabbed an innocent ant with oleic acid. That didn't hurt the ant directly. However, since oleic acid is what dead ants give off after a couple of days, other ants in the colony reacted to the very much living ant as though it were a little formican corpse.
For two hours, the swabbed ant endured the indignity, Mr. Leland explained to me, of being picked up, carried to the colony's 'graveyard' pile, and dumped there.
Howard Leland was never one to ignore a vital issue. In 2005, he was among the first in Loonfoot Falls to make his back yard a butterfly preserve. More recently, his stand against noise pollution led to a neighborhood discussion of noise: and a resolution to the leaf blower issue.
This week, Howard Leland has a new cause. He is determined to save the ants from uncaring researchers. He tells me that his letter to the Asclepias Society has not yet been answered.
"It's a long shot, anyway," Mr. Leland said, "the society's charter specifically limits its interests to monarch butterflies: but I felt I had to ask."
If you live in Loonfoot Falls, Howard Leland will probably ask you to join his cause. Just letting you know.
Saturday, October 11, 2008
About Leaf Blowers, Wild Flowers, and Raking
I've never minded leaf blowers myself. That whining roar is as much a part of what I grew up with, as the sound of lawnmowers. But, some people don't like the sound. At all.
Howard Leland, who converted his back yard into a butterfly preserve back in 2005, met with the city council to ban leaf blowers twice: Once, in 2003, because they were too loud; again in 2006, because exhaust fumes from the leaf blowers were making his milkweeds and wild flowers sick. He put it a little more scientifically than that, but that's the gist of it.
A week after that 2006 meeting, Glenn Severtson, a neighbor of Mr. Leland's, invited Howard and the other homeowners on that block to the Whistle Stop Cafe. They spent the better part of a Saturday afternoon there, talking about Mr. Leland's yard-full of milkweed, fireweed, columbine, goldenrod, and so forth; and their leaf blowers.
When it was over, they'd agreed that Mr. Leland wouldn't try to get leaf blowers banned in Loonfoot Falls, if they'd stop using leaf blowers. Mr. Leland said that he'd make sure their yards got raked.
In the autumn of 2007, Howard Leland was out daily for well over a week, getting one yard after another raked. He told me that it was great exercise: better than jogging.
He also told me that he was getting a leaf blower for the job this year. He's not giving up his principles, he explained. The blower's motor is electric.
Howard Leland, who converted his back yard into a butterfly preserve back in 2005, met with the city council to ban leaf blowers twice: Once, in 2003, because they were too loud; again in 2006, because exhaust fumes from the leaf blowers were making his milkweeds and wild flowers sick. He put it a little more scientifically than that, but that's the gist of it.
A week after that 2006 meeting, Glenn Severtson, a neighbor of Mr. Leland's, invited Howard and the other homeowners on that block to the Whistle Stop Cafe. They spent the better part of a Saturday afternoon there, talking about Mr. Leland's yard-full of milkweed, fireweed, columbine, goldenrod, and so forth; and their leaf blowers.
When it was over, they'd agreed that Mr. Leland wouldn't try to get leaf blowers banned in Loonfoot Falls, if they'd stop using leaf blowers. Mr. Leland said that he'd make sure their yards got raked.
In the autumn of 2007, Howard Leland was out daily for well over a week, getting one yard after another raked. He told me that it was great exercise: better than jogging.
He also told me that he was getting a leaf blower for the job this year. He's not giving up his principles, he explained. The blower's motor is electric.
Saturday, August 23, 2008
Loonfoot Falls' Backyard Butterfly Preserves
There's very little grass in some Loonfoot Falls back yards. Colorful splatters of wildflowers and milkweed have replaced the neatly-trimmed lawns of over a dozen houses.
And that's just the way the owners want it.
They're members of the Asclepias Society, an organization dedicated to giving monarch butterflies a place to stay and raise a family at the summer end of their migration. The Asclepias Society was founded in 2000 by Samuel H. Robins, chief entomologist at the Minnesota Institute for Scientific Studies.
That was the year when the monarch butterfly became Minnesota's state butterfly.
The Asclepias Society gets its name from the scientific name for milkweed, a plant that young monarchs munch before turning into the orange-and-black adults.
A member of the Loonfoot Falls chapter, Howard Leland, said, "I thought it sounded crazy at first. You know: making your back yard into a butterfly preserve?" He decided to try planting wild flowers and milkweed in his back yard in 2005. After four summers with the Asclepias Society, the only part of his back yard not covered with flowers and milkweed is a path to the garage.
"It's great," Mr. Leland said. "Those wildflowers pretty much take care of themselves, and watching the butterflies beats most of what's on television."
This year's monarchs are either already on their way south, or soon will be. Mr. Leland and his fellow-Asclepiasans want to make sure that when another generation returns next year, they'll find plenty of butterfly-friendly back yards in Loonfoot Falls.
And that's just the way the owners want it.
They're members of the Asclepias Society, an organization dedicated to giving monarch butterflies a place to stay and raise a family at the summer end of their migration. The Asclepias Society was founded in 2000 by Samuel H. Robins, chief entomologist at the Minnesota Institute for Scientific Studies.
That was the year when the monarch butterfly became Minnesota's state butterfly.
The Asclepias Society gets its name from the scientific name for milkweed, a plant that young monarchs munch before turning into the orange-and-black adults.
A member of the Loonfoot Falls chapter, Howard Leland, said, "I thought it sounded crazy at first. You know: making your back yard into a butterfly preserve?" He decided to try planting wild flowers and milkweed in his back yard in 2005. After four summers with the Asclepias Society, the only part of his back yard not covered with flowers and milkweed is a path to the garage.
"It's great," Mr. Leland said. "Those wildflowers pretty much take care of themselves, and watching the butterflies beats most of what's on television."
This year's monarchs are either already on their way south, or soon will be. Mr. Leland and his fellow-Asclepiasans want to make sure that when another generation returns next year, they'll find plenty of butterfly-friendly back yards in Loonfoot Falls.
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