Once upon a time oval bumper stickers on the back of cars were just European country identifiers, distinguishing anonymous numeric plates for cross-border traffic. In America people adopted their ancestral nation's stickers as a badge and their message was pretty straight forward. Once you'd learned that "E" stands for Spain and "H" for Switzerland, you were sufficiently versed in the language of oval bumper stickers.

This is not the case today. Now the simple oval with initials has devolved into a swamp or personalization. "OC", "BB", "RB", "OBX", "ES", and "MRE" adorn many of the cars around here. There is a locality about these abbreviations that helps identify what they stand for; the tiny text beneath the bold abbreviation comes as no surprise. To anyone living here Ocean City, Bethany Beach, Rehobeth Beach, the Outer Banks of North Carolina, the Eastern Shore and the Maritime Republic of Eastport are all familiar places. But occasionally there are some that don't readily surrender their message. A station wagon passed me on my way to work with an "EI" on the back window. "EI"? Easter Island? My first thought was a place, but maybe it's a school, or a league or anything at all. In New York last weekend I saw a couple unfamiliar stickers and had no chance of placing them, or knowing what they are saying.

The original purpose of these stickers was to clarify the origin of cars traveling in Europe. This was modified in America, becoming instead a proclamation of heritage or identity. But it was still a universal language with an unambiguous meaning. Now the messages are personalized and every place creates their own symbols. "RB" might mean Rehobeth Beach, but nothing prevents it from meaning Rhythm & Blues or Ronny Bogart, either. People buy these stickers to identify themselves to others, but not to everyone. These are public messages of a private nature, since the meanings are not universal.

Everything is going this way. Eventually television will be demand driven, not centrally scheduled. Every aspect of our lives will be chosen and broken into discreet bits, we are free to mix-and-match our way through life. But it worries me all the same. In programming, the most powerful controls are often difficult to use simply. It takes an enormous amount of learning to figure out how to do relatively straight forward things. Once you have learned the system, it's usually clear why they broke it down into such tiny bits, but occasionally you wonder why it had to be so difficult.

I don't want a difficult life. I am not looking for powerful results. These bits might let people live custom lives, but they are also insular. Each personal bit is another bite out of the broader community. So what? Eventually these granular services will need to be reformed into finished products. The internet would be useless with Google. Netflix weeds through my choices and suggests other movies that I might like. With each new movie rating they are getting better. Better by plugging me back into a broader context and comparing me to my fellow netflix customers. Ah, community.

Of Bikes & Bunnies

Each morning I expect my morning commute to be easier than the last. Each morning I cruise the same flats, climb the same hills and descend the same slopes, but every morning feels like it might kill me. Increased morning humidity and temperatures play some role in that; it is pretty hot, morning or not. This morning, though I timed my ride after weeks of not doing so and was hearten to see that my ride's time went from twenty-six to twenty-one minutes. So each morning I go a little faster, push a little hard, and ride perhaps a little better.

Yesterday Matilda's wait ended and we bought a black-eared bunny. She's already doting on it like a mother, calling it "sweatpea" and other sugary names. We should have done this earlier, but a confluence of events, laziness and bad decisions pushed it back until we said, "Enough is enough!" Owen's excitement matches Matilda's. Walking the rabbit in our backyard yesterday evening, he hopped eagerly alongside it (causing it no small amount of terror). Matilda will now be able to talk about her long promised bunny with her friends in Helsinki. She leaves next Monday and it hasn't sunk in yet. I'm sure she'll have a good time.

Assume an Error & Stick to It

Ladybugs have a good life. Not only do bodily toxins protect them from becoming a bird's lunch or a frog's supper, they kill harmful pests and are pretty enough to charm to most squeamish ladies. Ladybugs are attractive and good, a winning combination in our day and age.

Or, at least most are.

Turns out the orange variety I've watched on my squash plants, suspiciously near large chewed areas, were not defending my plants from harm. They were feasting. They are known as Squash Beetles and are one of two varieties of ladybug that harm plants. So now there is no more twisted reasoning justifying my flawed knowledge. I saw they were eating the leaf, but I doubted my eyes and went with what I presumed to be true. I hypothesized tiny perpetrators with large appetites that were being eaten by the orange ladybugs. Oh, foolish me.



Under the Squash Leaf

Seeing an orange devil supping on a leaf, I rushed over to the plant and knocked it off. I lifted the leaf, preparing for a final vicious assault when my fury was halted by a tiny box turtle, no bigger than a silver dollar. It was the cutest thing. It showed no fear, even when I picked it up to show Matilda and Owen. Later when we returned it to the squash plant (where it might have been snacking, too!) it ran off, seemingly unaffected.

Where have the floats gone? Annapolis' 4th of July parade had many nice things, but almost no floats. Candidate after candidate running in 2006, but little else. The kids loved the candy, but outside the placards, there was no creative efforts made to dazzle. Groups of mini owners, corvettes and PT Cruisers, fire trucks, GARBAGE TRUCKS!!! and Street sweepers, but no kids on crepe draped bikes. Oh well. It was still fun.

Earlier, we wandered the Paca House gardens. Beautiful. So much growing, and to think it is built where once a hotel and parking lot stood. A change (a return) for the better.

And the weather? Beautiful. The lights splashing in a beautiful sky.