Florida Sky

Out of Town

THE WIRE Finale, 2

Two great articles appeared during the week after THE WIRE finale. One was in American Spectator, the other in the Wall Street Journal. I've been trying to write this post since then and it just has not gelled for me in any sort of satisfactory fashion until this afternoon. The articles quoted below resonated with me because they highlighted the chameleon-like nature of THE WIRE and its ability to appeal to a broad range of viewers regardless of their ideological positions.

Conor Friedersdorf wrote in "The Wealth of Baltimore" in American Spectator on 12 March:

The Wire is a show that one can throw on after a politically mixed party, confident that Republicans, Democrats, and libertarians nursing nightcaps will all find scenes that seem to them to confirm their worldviews; art that expertly mirrors society reflects its disagreements too.

I argue that this pan-political appeal arises from the fact that the show's creators are old newspapermen from a time when papers -- and the media in general -- despite political allegiances, felt a much stronger obligation to tell the story straight.

Friedersdorf contiuned, that that the liberal press seemed to have misunderstood THE WIRE:

What's bizarre, as the show comes to a close, is the preponderance of commentators who agree that The Wire is a searing attack on capitalism, for that analysis -- echoed in Slate, the New Yorker and the Atlantic, among many other places -- is plainly wrong. The Wire is brutal in its critiques, as any viewer knows. Its most thorough dissections, however, concern the least capitalistic institutions in Baltimore.

Julia Vitullo-Martin wrote in "Urban Decay" in the 14 March WSJ that:

. . . conservatives may see in it a lesson that liberal viewers are unlikely to take to heart. Set, written and produced in Baltimore, "The Wire" aired 60 episodes, with each of its five seasons focused on a different subject -- drug trafficking, the port, local politics, public schools and the city's newspaper. From the series' opening sequences filmed in "The Towers" -- huge public housing projects whose courtyards serve as drug bazaars -- through its depiction of the continuing devastation of neighborhoods by violent crime and unemployment, the Baltimore of "The Wire" becomes the poster child for six decades of failed urban policy.

She quoted disheartening statistics about Baltimore and crime:

. . . Surpassed only by Detroit in CNN/Morgan Quinto's 2006 ranking of the country's most dangerous large cities . . . With 282 homicides last year and a population of about 641,000 . . . a homicide rate six times that of New York and three times that of Los Angeles . . . highest per-capita heroin consumption in the country . . . . public schools deteriorated, graduating less than half their students.

THE WIRE was a work a rare work of art that drew you in, regardless of your viewpoint or politics, compelled you to both watch something that was not pretty and to think about it. What you took away was directly connected to your personal politics/world view, but it started a dialogue amongst its aficionados about causes of the problems that afflict urban America and possible solutions.
It strikes me that season 5 seemed to be screaming the question: What if the modern press just told the story? Erstwhile City Editor, Gus Haynes wanted his writers at the fictionalized Sun to write their stories well, beautifully, tightly, interestingly, and, finally, truthfully. While I and others may not agree with the liberal take-away of the show, and the liberals with mine, at least we're talking about it because we were informed by beautiful, tight, truthful storytelling.

Good Stencil

Canal St Boston

Signs

The tulips and daffodils are sprouting in one of my side beds.

The forsythia and magnolias have really large buds and are ready to burst.

Some mornings I can smell the earth again.

I can smell my composter when I'm near it.

One of the neighborhood crows had a big stick in its mouth for a nest.

The Juncos are less frequent visitors to my feeder.

Red Winged Blackbirds returned to the feeder today.

The sun is actually warm even though the air is not particularly so, right now.

THE WIRE: The Finale

Sunday night marked the series finale of The Wire on HBO. It did not disappoint. They compressed a tremendous amount of action into 90 minutes and tightly, nicely and neatly tied up the story line that had been building all season, but that had really begun 5 seasons ago. There were times this year, I must admit, where I felt that the show had jumped the shark. The whole serial killer story line didn't ring entirely true nor did the fact that McNulty and Freamon could work the system as they did -- though after the plan was hatched and had matured over a couple of episodes it became more plausible.

Last night's episode tied it all together. It ended as I anticipated it had to -- a systematic effort of butt-covering, deal-making and political machinations. It played true and validated the entire season (the whole series, really). Much of what I read about prior to this season said it was all about the media, newspapers in particular. The media, and the Baltimore Sun in particular, played a much larger role in this season and it helped to round out the portrayal of the power-players in the modern urban environment.

Whether depicting street level dealing, working class woe or faltering schools THE WIRE was always about "The System." The way The System works is ugly, and THE WIRE shone a bright light right up its backside. The show never delivered the expected -- in terms of mass-media-entertainment-consumer expectations -- resolution because that would been neither real nor logical. The creators once said in an interview that the logic of the story must be played out; and, it was each week, and brutally so. Favorite characters got done -- both at the business end of a gun and by The System.

THE WIRE was a show with a POV -- it was angry, it pulled no punches and it didn't always tell you what you wanted to hear. Unlike most shows it didn't lionize one political party over another; it didn't offer bromides that everyone and everything will be OK if you believe in yourself; it did not get behind one solution over another. It was a show that was descriptive rather prescriptive. As show creator David Simon mentioned in a letter on HBO, dated 10 March, 2008:

We tried to be entertaining, but in no way did we want to be mistaken for entertainment. We tried to provoke, to critique and debate and rant a bit. We wanted an argument. We think a few good arguments are needed still, that there is much more to be said and it is entirely likely that there are better ideas than the ones we offered. But nothing happens unless the shit is stirred. That, for us, was job one.

The problems that grip Baltimore, as depicted in THE WIRE, are the problems that afflict many American cities. The problems appear intractable given the self-sustaining nature of The System and the human beings who comprise it. To truly clean up The System and make things right, would compel the players to give up much of what they have striven for -- corners, donations, stars on collars, literary prizes. Each of these things translate into power, and power is the name of the game within both the world defined by THE WIRE and ours.*

Dealers deal. Police police. Lawyers lawyer. Politicians politic. Media reports. Each feeds off of the others, and requires the others to survive. The System is a system because it perpetuates itself. There will always be someone to fill a void created by the departure of another -- whether mortal, or merely physical. That is why, in the coda, as the theme song played and McNulty gazed out on the Baltimore skyline, Daniels stood as a Public Defender, Pearlman sat in judge's robes, Michael became a stick-up boy, Dookie tightened the strap and loaded his spike, Slim Charles sat with The Greeks, and Bubs . . . Bubs sat at the table with his sister and her child to eat (the only happy ending in the series).**

The episodes always started with a quote and from what I can observe and recall the previous 59 quotes came from the episode itself. The finale's quote came from Baltimore's own H.L. Mencken:

"... the life of kings."

It seems that Mencken is a fitting a patron saint for this show that laid bare the structures of power, money, ambition and ultimately human weakness that shape and mold the modern, American, urban experience. THE WIRE told the story of a great American city, and the people who live in it honestly, openly and with great verve. The characters were human, fallible and venal but they were not all bad even when they were monstrous. They characters knew and played their role in The System, even when it required them to be their worst. Baltimore is any city, and the people who occupy The System live in every city, and the people who stand by and watch live in every city. Never before, and perhaps never again, will we, the TV-watching-public witness such an honest depiction of ourselves.

*See Peggy Noonan's column last week for a related view on power.

**The show synopsis on HBO.com contains a similar litany, I wrote this before I read that -- I was looking for the quote on the wall of the Sun offices that appears when Gus & Alma are speaking as Alma clears out for Carroll County. This may be over-think, but my academic background compels me to credit sources/mention similarities to the thought of others, even on my unread blog.

A Couple of Things to Note

I was kicking around today over on BlackFive, and found a couple of interesting things.

Woodrow W. Keeble: Medal of Honor Recipient
I found this story on the blog, BlackFive. It's the story of the
Woodrow W. Keeble, the first and only Sioux to be awarded the MOH.
He received the award for gallant service on 20 October, 1951 near
Sangsan-ni Korea. Definitely read the citation, and the background, they are amazing. The presidential comments are interesting too.
The medal was awarded 3 March, 2008 . . . how come I didn't see this
in the papers?

BlackFive post

173rd Airborne Brigade
Also on BlackFive, but via Michael Yon, I saw this call for support for the members of the 173rd Airbirne Brigade, currently serving in Afghanistan, and recently suffering a hatchet job in the NY Times. You can send a letter of thanks/support to them via this email address (adjusted in an attempt to avoid spammers): skysoldiers173rd[at]gmail[dot]com

BlackFive post
Michael Yon

Fast Tracks

Last Wednesday night a healthy dusting of light fluffy snow fell on the Quarter Acre. In the morning there were quite a few animal tracks in the yard and Child One and I followed some cat, rabbit (C1 identified them before I did) and crow tracks before heading off to school. The cat and rabbit tracks went from the back yard to the front, and the crow's tracks were especially entertaining and loopy on the sidewalk. In the afternoon I took both Child One and Child Two into the yard to follow the rabbit and cat tracks some more. We also saw the tracks of a frenetic small bird on our patio.

My interest in tracks was piqued when I found some coyote prints in the back yard the week prior. Though I didn't show them to my kids I made a mental note to bring them out and look for tracks after a snow. Mother Nature obliged and so did our wild and semi-domesticated neighbors. Both kids got a big kick out of our investigation and it was a fun way to kill some time on a cold winter day.

Leap Year Shmeap Year

As if February is not already interminable, this year it has an extra day. I understand that the earth's orbit around the sun takes 365.25 days . . . I understand that this physical reality necessitates the addition of a calendar day every four years and that since February has but 28 days it has room for the extra. Could we not add the extra day to one of the months with 30 days? The end of April can be lovely, as is the end of June and even September. But, no. We add one more day to February, the longest month.

Suburban Demographics

The below is quoted from "The Search for The Next Soccer Mom" in the Wall Street Journal (2/28/08). The article highlights several trends being watched by demographers that may play a role in the 2008 Presidential Election. Given that I'm a suburbanite, this portion of the piece, among others, caught my eye:

The suburbs are the contested terrain. According to Robert Lang of Virginia Tech, Thomas Sanchez of the University of Utah and Alan Berube of Brookings, Republican voters used to dominate the suburbs, but "with these areas becoming larger scale, quasi-urban environments, they are highly contested spaces that contain some of the nation's most important swing districts."

"Density equals Democrats," they argue, because the social environment and housing types in these areas tend to draw more Democratic leaning voters. Conversely, the farther out you get from the urban core, the more voters lean toward the GOP. Hence, strong Mr. Bush and GOP performance in the emerging suburbs and exurbs that lie on the fast-growing metropolitan fringe (52% growth between 1990 and 2005, compared to only 11% in the innermost suburbs).

But in 2006, the Democrats were more competitive in the metropolitan fringe and dominated the rest of suburbia. As Messrs. Lang, Sanchez and Berube put it, "The metropolitan political battle line is not neatly split between city and suburbs, but instead now mostly lies in the transition areas between mature and emerging suburbs." In 2006, the Democrats pushed that battle line fairly far out into the emerging suburbs. In 2008, the battle may turn on whether they can hold that line or whether the GOP can push it back into the mature suburbs.

William F. Buckley, RIP

William F. Buckley, father of the modern conservative movement, founder of National Review and a major player in twentieth century American literature died this morning while working in his study. By all accounts, he was both a brilliant and a good man. Many of the paeans I'm reading this afternoon and evening all speak of his gentlemanly nature, his command of language, his wit, intellect, and his joy -- an emotion nearly extinct on Terra Politica. I read a 2005 interview with him in the Wall Street Journal in which he offered his interlocutor a cocktail before lunch, and went on to say "mischievously," that "[t]here's a certain wholesomeness to the Republican Party." The interview certainly showed his joie de vivre, but also explicitly highlighted the difference between being conservative and being a conservative -- a point Buckley made in reference to the president.

William F. Buckley's founding statement for National Review:

Let's face it: Unlike Vienna, it seems altogether possible that did National Review not exist, no one would have invented it. The launching of a conservative weekly journal of opinion in a country widely assumed to be a bastion of conservatism at first glance looks like a work of supererogation, rather like publishing a royalist weekly within the walls of Buckingham Palace. It is not that, of course; if National Review is superfluous, it is so for very different reasons: It stands athwart history, yelling Stop, at a time when no one is inclined to do so, or to have much patience with those who so urge it.

National Review is out of place, in the sense that the United Nations and the League of Women Voters and the New York Times and Henry Steele Commager are in place. It is out of place because, in its maturity, literate America rejected conservatism in favor of radical social experimentation. Instead of covetously consolidating its premises, the United States seems tormented by its tradition of fixed postulates having to do with the meaning of existence, with the relationship of the state to the individual, of the individual to his neighbor, so clearly enunciated in the enabling documents of our Republic.

Omar Got Got

We're very big fans of The Wire on HBO. Without a doubt, it's the best show on television because it is what TV can be at its best: engaging, enraging, entertaining, disheartening, honest, raw and real. The arc of the story lines have been developing for five years, the characters growing, changing and getting more real each season.

There are only two episodes left in the series and last night, Omar (Little) -- the stick up king of West Baltimore, feared, revered and reviled by those in the game, a homosexual, a sociopath but a moralist who never turned his gun on someone not in the game -- one of the best, most charismatic and interesting characters in the show took one in the back of the head while buying a pack of Kools, soft-pack, in a Korean Grocery.

The scene was masterful: Omar hobbled into the store, on a desolate street. There was a sense of dread in the desolation. As Omar bought his smokes, the bell on the store's door rang and he looked at whoever just entered the store, didn't deem that person a threat and went back to his business. Just as my nerves were calming down (jangled by the bells)there was a bang, blood and gore spewed out of the top of Omar's head and onto the bullet proof glass at the checkout counter. The camera cut quickly through the space where Omar once stood to show a little corner boy standing behind Omar, looking terrified and confused. He reached down to touch Omar's body, pointed the gun at the proprietress, dropped the piece and bolted.

It was taughtly rendered television -- proving once again that there are no throw-away scenes and details in The Wire, and that your favorite character will buy it rapidly and violently if the logic of the story requires it. Just as the show started last night I told Mrs. Agricola that I had a feeling that Omar was going to get Marlo before the cops did (it's a 2+ season story line), and that all of their hard work was going to be for naught. I guess I was completely wrong.

Omar got got.
No one on the street even knew who got him.
The Baltimore Sun didn't even deem his murder newsworthy.
A county ME saved him from being mis-identified in the morgue.
The episode closed with the body bag being zipped over his face.
Life is tough in West Ballmer.

Inside Out Job

I took advantage of some beautiful, but cold, weather to do an inside out job. Like many of my neighbors my garage had become a repository for all sorts of stuff -- but not actually a motor vehicle. There are plenty of bikes, trikes, scooters, jogging strollers, snow shoes etc. etc. as well as stowed detritus from last fall's yard clean-up and just generally junk. I attacked it today and cleaned it out and I think that my car will fit. It's not a big deal, not a big job, but it's a good thing to get out of the way. The garage cleaning is the sort of project that for which the winter is made. Next on my list is my workshop/storage area. It really is the little things in life that make me happy -- and taking control of stuff and its spread is a big source of joy -- it's cathartic.

Concerning Obama's Ascendancy

Currently, I'm between contract gigs. I'd had something lined up but it fell through as so often happens when contracting with small, interactive-inexperienced agencies. I've been beating the bushes and reading a ton of stuff about the presidential primaries. I did my civic duty and voted last week, casting a meaningless vote for a once-hopeful but now former candidate (who was still in when I voted).

Things have certainly changed quickly over the past week and now, in light of the VA/MD/DC primaries it looks increasingly as if Barack Hussein Obama has a pretty legitimate shot at the Democrat nomination. I qualify "legitimate" because it's not apparent that the Clinton Machine will actually acknowledge the ground rules of the primary to which they agreed before all of this madness started. Who would have thought that BHO would give Ms. Rodham such a run for her money, and actually beat her? I've had a feeling since late summer that he would -- she's too strident, too divisive and, frankly, too unappealing -- but I'm not sure that I would have wagered my kids' college savings.

He's a heck of a speaker, and charismatic but listen to what he says. He doesn't say much except to say how lousy, how unfair, and Dickensian the whole country is. When he's not being negative he's speaks vaguely of what he stands for and showers his crowds with bromides about "change" and "yes we can!" First of all, he's taken a page from The Commonwealth's very own Governor Deval Patrick, and his campaign motto of "Together we Can." As I wrote after Patrick's election in 2006:

It's a terrific marketing line. It says much and says nothing. It's brilliant and permits the reader to finish the line and therefore believe that the coming administration will fulfill his or her governmental dreams. The Patrick campaign never permitted itself to be defined, to take a stand or to declare its beliefs. Instead, it used its brilliant slogan to make the electorate believe that anything is possible. It's a great message, it's a great slogan but unfortunately the lack of substance, and the apparent lack of a plan behind the slogan don't bode well. . .

To be fair to Gov. Patrick, his campaign motto was better than BHO's. As the father of a toddler-boy I get my fair share of "Bob the Builder," whose motto is, "Yes We Can!" Just like the Democrat front runner for that party's presidential nomination Bob is not overly deep. Despite BHO's willful opacity, and his pseudo-positivity the more he speaks the more his true, negative view of America, his absolute lack of knowledge about foreign affairs emerge from the shadows. During my recent, unfettered, stroll around the blogosphere I've found some scary things popping up -- video and photographic evidence of, if not his true colors, then his lack of patriotism (I know, I know, don't questions the Democrats' Patriotism -- though the below pictures can only make one do so).

Here is BHO refusing to salute the flag last fall in Iowa.


Here is a shot from his newest campaign office in Houston.


He won't wear a flag on his lapel. He won't place his hand over his heart during the National Anthem, and Che's face and the Cuban flag fly in one of his offices. Once the people who sought the office of the presidency seemed to have some sort of love for this country or were compelled to serve out of some sense of duty. What inspires BHO, and what is it that inspires his followers to such levels of enthusiasm? There is a definite cult of personality around the man and that is not a good thing in my book, especially not given his seemingly ambivalent view of America.

The Wisdom of Fandom

"Thank you for coming . . . the visiting room is ahead, and to the right . . . please be sure to sign the guest book . . . "

The undertakers rolled into every living-TV-Rumpus-dorm-bed-den-barroom in New England last night around 11:00 PM EST -- just after Eli Manning and the NY Giants committed regicide on the presumed-kings of the NFL, our New England Patriots -- and welcomed us to the funeral parlor. The Giants dispatched the men from Foxboro brutally, ruthlessly and with the utmost professionalism -- qualities we'd come to expect from our own team of football-Gods. It wasn't personal, except that it was, and always is, when you make your living imposing your will on other men. When it was over, we were all reminded how personal and painful fandom can be.

I've been around sports and Boston Sports (capitalization is intentional) for a long time. We've long supported teams that were whipping boys and also-rans. Historically, Boston Fans are die hard, stubborn, bitter-enders who pray to St. Anthony, the patron saint of lost causes. The past seven years have been the Golden Age of Boston Sports -- the Celtics 80s notwithstanding. Super Bowl XLII was meant to be the crown jewel amongst a ridiculous trove of treasure: 3 of 7 Super Bowls, 2 of 4 World Series, the best record in the NBA, a highly ranked D-1 college football team, a pro hockey team that's currently playoff eligible, and as I write this, BC and BU just tore it up in an OT of the second game of the opening night of the Beanpot -- one of the best college tourneys of any kind.

Super Bowl XLII, however, showed how fragile the line between pleasure and pain, success and failure is, and how emotionally devastating fandom can be. I go about my day-to-day, and try and not get overly fired up about sports, though I do like them, I follow them, I derive pleasure from them. I loved this Patriots team -- not in the latently homosexual way that so many "dudes" around here "love" Tom Brady. It was a distinct honor to watch them play, and go along for the ride. Yet, as a friend wrote on his blog "Why do I get so emotionally invested in something that is out of my control?" I wish I knew because Super Bowl Monday was a drag. There is no energy in the area, everybody is down and I've heard more than once that people were up all night; that they thought that what they'd seen was a bad dream. No such luck. It was all too real, and now many of us are questioning why we are fans; is the sort of pain we feel in the wake of a loss like that in XLII worth it in the long run?

Dreams of 19-0 ended "oh . . . no . . . " as Plaxico Burress hauled in the winning TD with 35 seconds to go. Perfection was thwarted. A tremendous, record setting ride has been written off as meaningless. That seems a bit harsh to me, and not entirely fair but never forget the aforementioned, razor thin line between pleasure and pain, success and failure. A miserable 2:24 at the end of XLII, wiped out the previous 18 hours 57 minutes and 36 seconds of superiority, and now the Patriots are judged failures and now their fans, me included, suffer an existential crisis, as we contemplate the wisdom of fandom. I've long said though, that regardless of the team, win or lose, I've got to get up and go to work, pay my mortgage and feed and care for my children. Today was no exception, and, looking ahead, pitchers and catchers report to Ft. Meyers in 9 days, and Patriots mini-camp is only about 6 months away . . .

"Hi, my name's Agricola."
"HI, AGRICOOLA!"
"I'm a fan . . . "

Kitchen Repaint

We repainted the kitchen in January and I can' believe how much it's changed my perception of the house, and how come it took so long to get around to it. We went from nasty burnt umber walls and bone colored trim and cabinets to nice bright silver-blue walls with bright white trim, doors and a new coat of kitchen and bath paint on the ceiling. Everything is done in a semi-gloss and it looks awesome. We also changed the hardware on all of the cabinet doors and took the opportunity to reorganize all of the shelves.

I started the job grudgingly -- I'd wanted to paint Child Two's room and the entry-front hall first, but Mrs. Agricola and then Mater & Pater Agricolae got on me and I knew the jig was up. We originally intended to paint only the walls and ceiling, but the cabinets and trim looked so beat that we gave the whole room a total makeover and it looks great. Pater Agricolae helped tremendously in hanging the cabinet doors, which proved the trickiest part of the job, and Mrs. A got her reorganization fix in a huge way. The kitchen is not perfect, but it's a huge improvement and with the addition of a table from and bar stools from Ikea it's completely more useful. This was another good, family, project on the Quarter Acre that has improved life and fed our handy-people nature.

Raptor Dance

I was sitting in a meeting the other day (1/28/08)and saw a pair of Bald Eagles starting their mating dance. The male was striking with his white head and tail, and the female was larger and duller in coloration. They were wheeling around one another and soaring about over Joppa Flats in Newburyport. I was witnessing the flirtation stage and did not get to see the spectacular and death-defying talon-locked-tumble portion of the ritual -- no doubt, they moved out of view for some more privacy.

Disenfranchisement Rejected

Following up "Change, Right . . . " a Nevada court rejected the suit brought by Clinton supporters and the NV Teachers' Union to ban casino-based caucus places. This ban would have disenfranchised Black and Latino employees of Casinos and other companies along the Las Vegas Strip. The suit was filed on behalf of the Clinton campaign in the wake of the powerful Service Workers' Union endorsement of Barack Obama.

How is it that the Clintons get away with this stuff, and why are they such darlings of the main stream media? Are there any less attractive people than these people (and I'm not referring to physical appearance)? They are rotten to the core. Is the country really ready for at least four more years of ugliness?

I have only questions, and no answers.

Change, Right . . .

Lest anybody think that the current election, as currently campaigned by the Democrats, is about changing government and saving the working and middle classes of America, read John Fund's opinion piece in today's WSJ.

. . . [I]t was only last week [the Democrats] argued before the Supreme Court that an Indiana law requiring voters show ID at the polls would reduce voter turnout and disenfranchise minorities. Nevada allies of Hillary Clinton have just sued to shut down several caucus sites inside casinos along the Las Vegas Strip, potentially disenfranchising thousands of Hispanic or black shift workers who couldn't otherwise attend the 11:30 a.m. caucus this coming Saturday.

D. Taylor, the president of the Culinary Workers Union that represents many casino workers, notes that legal complaint was filed just two days after his union endorsed Barack Obama. He says the state teachers union, most of whose leadership backs Mrs. Clinton, realized that the Culinary union would be able to use the casino caucuses to better exercise its clout on behalf of Mr. Obama, and used a law firm with Clinton ties to file the suit.

How lovely, is the nakedly aggressive pursuit of power.

Shaking the Trees

Monday, a Nor'Easter dropped about 8-10 inches of snow on the Quarter Acre. the snow was an odd, pasty consistency that stuck really well to trees and shrubs and really bent them over but it was not that heavy to shovel. I went out just after dinner to move some snow from the end of the driveway, after a late plow run, and noticed that the trees and shrubs in front of the house were seriously laden.

The beautiful Kusa Dogwood just outside of our front door was in serious danger of collapsing from its snow cover. For some reason, neither Mrs. Agricola nor I had noticed during the day how bowed and very much in danger it was of losing one of its main leaders. In order to prevent losing this tree I started shaking it with my shovel to knock the snow out of it and lessen its load. Snow was falling all around me, and I had a slight worry, in the back of my mind, that maybe, just maybe, the shaking would break the tree and I'd get nailed by a big snow-covered branch. The shaking seemed to work, caused no further damage, and this morning the leader seemed to regain its more typical, vertical alignment.

I also shook a Rose of Sharon right in front of the house that typically stands about 12 feet high. With it's snow cover it was bent nearly in half. Now, Rose of Sharons are tough, willowy trees that grow like weeds. I'm not a huge fan of them, but this one is pretty large and shields the house from the sun so I gave it some good shakes to release some weight. It too returned to it's normal verticality.

I've shoveled lots of walks and driveways in my day but never actually shoveled trees. I've got a thing for trees though and the Kusa, in particular, is an attractive and valuable specimen that would would have been terrible to lose due to storm, or more accurately, post-storm damage. Add tree shaking to the list of homeowner's responsibilities,