Gwynne decoded

As far I can tell, Charles Goodnight is the only writer to use the name “Dirt Dauber” to refer to birds in the swallow family (Hirundinidae). Everyone else reserves that name for various species of wasp. From his The Making of a Scout, some frontier navigation wisdom:

‘The scout had to be familiar with the birds of the region,’ continued the plainsman, ‘to know those that watered each day, like the dove, and those that lived long without watering, like the Mexican quail. On the Plains, of an evening, he could take the course of the doves as they went off into the breaks to water. But the easiest of all birds to judge from was that known on the Plains as the dirt-dauber or swallow. He flew low, and if his mouth was empty he was going to water. He went straight too. If his mouth had mud in it, he was coming straight from water.’ (pp. 42-43)

Goodnight is cited in S. C. Gwynne, Empire of the Summer Moon, p. 198. David Sibley writes that American swallows of the genera Hirundo and Petrochelidon use mud to build nests. All are permanent Texas residents, at least by today’s distribution maps.

Spoiler Alert: Everybody Dies

An entertaining, quite funny dollop of dark blackout comedy and Chicago-style audience abuse that brings these holiday tidings: “the world is a creepy place.” Of the six-member ensemble, Travis Turner stands out in a sketch in which he is called on to impersonate a domineering, supportive mother. Woolly company member Jessica Francis Dukes gets to show her musical chops with some serious belting. Maribeth Monroe is handy with a swiffer, cleaning up after an especially bloody scene. All four men of the ensemble do well with perhaps the deepest sketch of the evening, an exploration of race and cultural values as personified by Chicago’s two hapless baseball teams. And a hat tip to the evening’s followspot operator.

  • Spoiler Alert: Everybody Dies, written and performed by Chicago’s The Second City, directed by Billy Bungeroth, Woolly Mammoth Theatre Company, Washington

84%

An op-ed piece by Nicholas K. Peart, reflecting on the five times this 23-year-old community college student has been stopped and frisked by police.

…last year, the N.Y.P.D. recorded more than 600,000 stops; 84 percent of those stopped were blacks or Latinos. Police are far more likely to use force when stopping blacks or Latinos than whites. In half the stops police cite the vague “furtive movements” as the reason for the stop. Maybe black and brown people just look more furtive, whatever that means.

Maswera sei?

…I began to understand and speak Shona without being conscious of how I stepped away from the white noise of my own language to do so. …the world made deeper, richer, and sometimes, kinder sense. There is, for example, a reciprocation in Shona greetings that does not exist in English: “Maswera sei?” (How did you pass the day?) is generously answered thus: “Taswera kana maswerawo” (I passed the day well if you passed the day well). To which the original greeter replies, “Taswera hedu.” (I passed the day well, indeed.) The well-being of an individual depends on the well-being of others—I’m okay if you’re okay.

—Alexandra Fuller, “Her Heart Inform Her Tongue,” Harper’s Magazine no. 1940 (January 2012), p. 61

Bessie’s revenge

My maternal grandmother was an insane fan of Ruth Lyons, Ohio television personality of the 50s and 60s. Grandma would no sooner miss a 12 noon episode of The 50/50 Club than she would skip serving her overcooked gray chicken for Sunday dinner. So, come the winter holiday season, we would hear Ruby Wright with Cliff Lash’s band singing “Merry, Merry, Merry, Merry Xmas.” A lot.

It’s been, oh, 45, going on 50 years since I heard that song. (Unless I actually saw Female Trouble—I don’t remember.) And I was OK with that.

Spread the word

In addition to a quick blurb as @DavidGorsline, I want to praise the online publication of the Catalogue for Philanthropy: Greater Washington. Selection as one of 70 top small-budget (under $3 million) DC nonprofits involves a six-month vetting process to find organizations with “rock-solid financial and organizational structures.” Washington City Paper, in its introduction to the list of 70 worthy charities, writes,

Traditionally, the Catalogue has bound its list into a book and distributed thousands of copies to “high net worth individuals” in the area. This year, we’ve worked with the organization to highlight its list in our pages, with the idea that you don’t have to be rich to want to give a little.

Winter weeds at Woodend

Five nature fun facts from today’s winter weeds workshop with Stephanie Mason:

  • The generic name for the tickseed sunflowers, Bidens (two-toothed), describes the two-barbed achenes that are typical fruit of the various species.
  • Sensitive Fern (Onoclea sensibilis) is also known as Bead Fern. Look at the spore cases along the fronds in winter to see why.
  • The slender seed pod of Dogbane (Apocynum sp.) looks like a mustard’s silique, but it’s actually a follicle that splits open on one side.
  • Broom Sedge (Andropogon virginicus) is not a sedge, but a grass, and it rather resembles Little Bluestem.
  • A little while ago, I had tumbled to the nomenclatural connection between Cardueline finches and Carduus thistles. But what I didn’t know, as Stephanie explained, is that goldfinches delay breeding into the summer, when thistles are about to set seed. Rather than feeding nestlings insects, as is the norm with songbirds, the parents regurgitate “thistle milk” for their young.

Not just for coffee farms

Paul Stapleton introduces “evergreen agriculture.” In Africa, intercropping with trees of the genera Sesbania, Gliricidia, Tephrosia, and others improves yields and provides other benefits; dropped leaves from the trees provide natural fertilizer.

The indigenous African acacia (Faidherbia albida) is perhaps the most remarkable of these fertiliser trees. Faidherbia sheds its nitrogen-rich leaves during the early rainy season and remains dormant throughout the crop-growing period. The leaves grow again when the dry season begins. This makes it highly compatible with food crops, because it does not compete with them for light, nutrients or water during the growing season: only its bare branches spread overhead while the food crops grow to maturity.

Krapp’s Last Tape

We loved the details in this performance by which John Hurt and the production team make the piece their own: the cloud of dust when Krapp drops the ledger on the table; the overhead light fixture with one of its two bulbs burned out; the squeaky boots; the way that Hurt’s Krapp says spool like he’s enjoying a private joke. Perhaps most saucily, Hurt treats the squared pool of light that defines his den as something tangible: as he paces, he walks out of the light, then stops short, as if he’s hit a physical barrier.

He executes the material at a measured one-hour pace that some might find a little off-putting. And we missed the snatches of the hymn “Now the Day Is Over” that are scripted for Krapp. But in sum, it’s a performance to treasure.

I used to think that the piece could be adapted to more contemporary recording technology, but after seeing this performance, I doubt it. The meticulous fiddling and threading of a reel-to-reel tape recorder gives the play a breathing space, almost scene breaks, that would be lost if Krapp were merely popping DVDs into an optical drive slot.

  • Krapp’s Last Tape, by Samuel Beckett, performed by John Hurt, directed by Michael Colgan, produced by the Gate Theatre Dublin, performed at Shakespeare Theatre Company, Washington