Author: Stacy Horn

I’ve been following the siege in Mumbia, which finally ended early this morning.  Plus, the story of the Walmart employee who was trampled to death.  I vaguely remember almost being trampled, although I forget the circumstances.  But I remember the sense that the people about to trample me didn’t even see me.  That term “blind panic” really does describe it. Something happened to cause the crowd I was in to fear.  Fortunately I didn’t panic, quickly spotted where no one else was headed and jumped there.  I was mostly lucky though, that there was a spot to jump to.  It’s hard to blame people who are terrified and don’t know what they’re doing, but I still remember hating them, just watching in horror and hating them.  I guess I was being only human too.

I gotta believe that no one in that Walmart crowd meant for that to happen, and we know from history and countless experiments how something like this can happen, the crowd-mind and lack of individual responsibility, but still.  I read that when employees asked the people to leave afterwards, that someone had died as a result of what they had done people continued to shop. That I find harder to understand.

Back to Mumbai, how do people get this damaged?  Interview after interview of people who managed to escape almost all use the same word to describe the killers:  remorseless.  They killed children for God’s sake.

I’m so proud of myself.  I returned the pumpkin pie I bought yesterday at Balducci’s.  It really was horrible.  The crust was soggy, the pumpkin part soupy and not well spiced.  They were completely nice about it though. Even better, outside the store, these guys were back!  The shar peis, aka The Three Sweetest Dogs in the World.  They are actually reserved with strangers I noticed, but I can just tell they are loving with family.  One of them had a cast!  Check out his brother (or sister) giving him some sympathy.  My thanksgiving dinner below.

Howard and I always get Veselka to go and watch something on TV.  I got my pumpkin pie, so happy ending all around.  I know it’s out of focus but I love this particular flashy out of focus blur it does sometimes when I put it on the night snapshot setting.

I’m meeting Howard later for Thanksgiving food and tv, but I forget about food for now.  I have to eat now and I’ve got nothing.  Plus, the pumpkin pie I treated myself to is awful.  It’s soggy and undercooked.  I want to return it, but I’m not sure I have the nerve, plus the store is probably not open. Whatever I decide, I still have to go out there and get food.  I want pizza. Thanksgiving pizza.  That reminds me, I keep meaning to make movies out there, but I forget.  I thought movies of the neighborhood and New York might be a nice change from pictures.

In the meantime, here’s yet another cat shot.  (What can I say??  They’re right there.  All the time.)  This is Finney peeking around the computer screen. He was obviously looking at my reflection and not me.

Did I ever tell the story about growing up near a small turkey farm?  I can’t remember the name (which is bugging me).  And I don’t remember how I figured it out, but I discovered that certain noises would cause the turkeys to talk back to me.  I loved visiting the turkeys from time to time to talk to them.  

Me:  High pitched squeaking noises.
Turkeys:  Gobble, gobble.

Back and forth we’d go, me squeaking and the turkeys gobbling back.  I suppose it was inevitable that I stop eating them.

I recently read about the Farm Sanctuary’s Adopt-A-Turkey project. I know some people will think with all the suffering in the world, it’s silly to give what little we might have to a bunch of turkeys, but if there’s a God he’s paying attention to the care we take of his other creatures.

Here’s the important part, the point I really want to make though:  Even if you’re going to have turkey for Thanksgiving, consider doing this.  Just because you can’t go all the way and become a vegetarian doesn’t mean you shouldn’t still do what you can.  I often get people pointing out, “An animal might have suffered so you can have that cheese,” or one of many other things.  “How do you know plants don’t suffer?”  We all do the best we can. Just because I can’t eliminate all suffering doesn’t mean I shouldn’t try at all. It’s such a weird argument for not bothering.  If you walked by two people drowning and could only save one would you say, “Well, I can’t save them both so I’m not going to even bother saving one.” Every step you take to not hurt a living creature matters.

Who knew these little guys liked pumpkin pie, too??

UPDATE:  My sister-in-law Karen Horn just saved the day.  The farm I’m remembering was Finello’s Poutry Farm.

The West Side

The East Side

Extreme Close-Up