Hall of Pretty Good

Happy 2012! Let's hope for a happy, healthy, and prosperous year for all of us.

It's going to be a significant year. I'm hoping for better things, but all that transpires around me suggests that won't be so. For instance, if Mitt Romney is elected President (and I'm not at all sure he can defeat Obama, but if...), I think the Democrats will ultimately be more satisfied than the Republicans. In Michigan, the obsession with "best practices" will continue to trump common sense. And, amid it all, most people will continue to be more concerned with American Idol, the NFL on CBS, and what other latest Hollywood-type committed some perversion.

In the mean time, I see the baseball Hall of Fame has officially become the Hall of Pretty Good. I'm not knocking Barry Larkin as a ballplayer; he was very good. But, seriously, does he conjure up images of Babe Ruth, Ty Cobb, Ted Williams, Stan Musical, Sandy Koufax, etc.? Of course he doesn't. It continues to reflect this national obsession with giving awards, more and more often to people who don't deserve them. What defense can be given for awarding a Nobel to Algore or B. Obama? Can you imagine honoring the Wayne County executive with his alma mater's "Alumnus of the Year" award? How can anyone keep a straight face with that one? What about our high school "halls" or "walls" of fame? I still see that practically every school is an "Exemplary School," "Blue Ribbon School," or some other such nonsense. How do we get so many poor products with so many "great schools?" Why do our little leagues insist on handing out trophies to each and every kid who plays, even the worst of them, those who don't try, etc.? What's wrong with a watermelon party at the end of the season? And, the list goes on and on and on.....

I know "The Fur Trade in Michigan" likely doesn't arouse a great deal of excitment, at least not at first glance. But there is a lot of cool stuff involved with it. Imagine a 5'4" man hauling around two or three or four 90-pound bales of fur, carrying them two or three miles, often running. Imagine eating something called "pemmican," sort of an energy bar two or three hundred years ago, made of animal fat/grease, maybe some berries and flour. Imagine traveling hundreds of miles in a birchbark canoe, with a thickness of maybe 1/4" or 1/2", sewn together with the roots of tamarack trees. Imagine the government getting into an enterprise, competing with private companies, giving itself all of the advantages, but failing miserably. (That really happened!) I don't know if I am enjoying writing this thing as much as I am enjoying finding out all this new stuff. (And "stuff" remains one of my favorite words!)

I like tacos.