Monday, February 17, 2014

R.I.P. Marius, the 'surplus' giraffe

By Bob Gaydos
Marius

        They killed a giraffe in Denmark. Executed him, actually, with a bolt gun, at the Copenhagen Zoo. Then they performed an autopsy and butchered his body while an announcer explained what was happening to a crowd of onlookers that included lots of wide-eyed, young children.
Finally, they fed the carcass to the lions and tigers.
The Romans couldn’t have made more of a spectacle of it.
        The giraffe, Marius, was two years old and, apparently, in the best of health. He posed no known threat to any other living creature. His “crime,” according to the two men responsible for killing him, was that he was too normal. The product of a breeding program at the zoo, Marius was apparently unfortunate enough to possess the type of genes that the scientists said were already well-represented in the zoo’s giraffe population. Allowing him to continue as part of the breeding program would not be good for the giraffe population as a whole, they said. He was surplus material.
         Bam! Bye,bye, Marius.
         There’s more. Copenhagen Zoo officials had an offer from Yorkshire Wildlife Park in Britain to take Marius off their hands. The British zoo is part of the same breeding program as the Copenhagen Zoo and has a state-of-the-art giraffe program. In fact, Marius’ older brother lives there. But Copenhagen Zoo officials didn’t even bother to answer the British zoo’s inquiries, saying they felt Marius and his surplus genes would also be taking up valuable space in the British zoo’s program. The offer of a private individual to buy Marius for $680,000 and place him in a wildlife preserve was also ignored.
          One more thing. When word of Marius’ impending execution was revealed, more than 20,000 people signed online petitions to find him another home rather than kill him. Rather than discuss the matter with animal rights activists who organized the petition, zoo officials moved up the execution without telling anyone.
         There is so much wrong with this story, it’s hard to know where to start.
Let’s go with the arrogance that permeates this entire affair. First of all, giraffes are not considered to be an endangered species and the zoo scientists acknowledge the animals breed well. So why the breeding program in the first place? If the species is taking care of its diversity on its own, why do humans have to meddle in the process? Because we know better what’s good for them?             Breeding a giraffe in captivity and then killing that same giraffe two years later because he possessed no special genetic makeup (Oops! We made a mistake.) hardly suggests a higher order of thinking. Callous disregard for life, yes. Enlightenment, no.
          To then insist that the pubic butchering of the animal and feeding him to the lions was a scientifically and culturally valuable experience for the young children who watched is utter nonsense and reeks of a desperate attempt to justify the act. I have no idea what was going on in the minds of parents who allowed their young children to be subjected to this abuse, but this was not “natural” as zoo officials insisted. This was a man-made spectacle. In nature, Marius would at least have had a chance to evade his predators. Zoo officials lured him with a piece of rye bread before they shot him in the head.
           As for moving up the execution when public protests grew, the haste with which the zoo, not only killed Marius, but got rid of his remains, might suggest to a suspicious person a sense of urgency to get rid of the evidence. Of what, I have no idea, because I’m not schooled in what zoos might do to their animals.
          Which leads me to the bigger point here and perhaps the only good news to come from Marius’ untimely demise: It raises an awareness of the need to find out what exactly does go on in zoos and whether they are really necessary -- in any way -- for the benefit of animals, as opposed to entertainment of humans.
          Copenhagen Zoo officials said such killings are routine in zoos, to preserve and protect the animals. Or perhaps, to balance the zoo’s budget? After all, zoos are limited in space as well as funds. Today’s cute giraffe baby can easily become tomorrow’s surplus mouth to feed in such conditions. How routine is this culling of zoo populations? Who decides? What are the regulations or guidelines?
          Animals also obviously get bored being confined in zoos or even safari parks. And exploitation and abuse of animals is not unknown, especially in zoos lacking oversight by outside agencies. But Marius was killed in a respected zoo in a major European capital in a country with a reputation for progressive thinking. And he was the byproduct of a breeding program to which zoos throughout Europe subscribe and whose scientists endorsed the execution of Marius, the innocent.
           In effect, they decided the world, never mind the Copenhagen Zoo, was too small for one more healthy, two-year-old giraffe
           In the same week Marius was killed, thousands of dogs were poisoned and shot in Sochi, Russia, to “clean up” a sub-tropical city that was chosen to host the Winter Olympics. Apparently, the humans there and in Copenhagen never heard of controlling a population of animals by neutering them instead of killing them.
           Such arrogant disregard for life will ultimately be the downfall of the human race.

bobgaydos.blogspot.com

Monday, February 10, 2014

'The picture of health?" Me? Sonofagun

By Bob Gaydos
The 'new' me.
IR Photography

        “You’re the picture of health.”
(She has to be talking to me. There’s no one else in the room.)
“Thank you, doctor.”
This exchange took place last month at an office in Middletown. The picture was considerably less pleasant, never mind healthy, some 18 months earlier when I first walked into the doctor’s office. I was overweight, with the familiar accompanying physical complications -- high blood pressure, pre-diabetic blood sugar readings, good and bad cholesterol numbers headed in the wrong directions, low B-12 and Vitamin D readings, a lack of energy, flexibility and stamina and swollen ankles.
         If anyone asked, I said I felt “fine.” And I believed it.
Since that time, I have lost 50 pounds and kept it off. I no longer take the blood-pressure and diuretic medications that were originally prescribed. I’m told my numbers in all other areas are “good.” I have more strength and energy and my flexibility is improving as is my stamina. My ankles look great
         And I plan to stay this way.
         I’ve been writing occasionally about my improved health and the lifestyle changes that brought it about for two primary reasons: 1. I know myself well enough to know that when I share my plans publicly I am more likely to stick to them, especially when they involve significant challenges; 2. People have told me that my updates have inspired them to make health-related changes in their own lifestyles.
         Now, I admit it’s a nice ego boost to be told that something I’ve written or done has motivated someone to try to improve his or her lot, and at at the same time I’m humbled to think I can make a difference in someone’s life. But the truth is my motives are purely selfish.
         I’ve been muddling around this planet for 72 years and I’d like to enjoy at least a couple more decades here before moving on to the next station, whatever, wherever and whenever that may be. The key word in that sentence is “enjoy.” I don’t want to hang on as a creaky,  chronically complaining old crank no one wants to be around. I can’t stop the years from adding up, but I sure can do something about the pounds and the blood pressure.
         By way of updating my current condition, I am pleased to report that shoveling snow this winter from hell has not left me panting and praying for sheer survival. I don’t like it, but neither do I dread it. It’s good exercise (up to a point) and evidence of improved stamina.
         Getting to this point has not been a matter of jumping on a stationary bike once in a while or taking an occasional stroll around the block. That used to count as “exercise” and, technically, still does. But that doesn’t take fat off or put muscle on. For me, it has meant changing the way I eat and making workouts, with and without weights, part of my routine. The workouts have been regular and irregular during this transition period, but they have been regular enough that the 50 pounds I lost have not been rediscovered.
         My coach tells me I have a lot of nascent muscles. (I think some have progressed to actual muscles, but it’s not worth quibbling about.) The main point is that the bench presses (with dumbbells), planks, pushups, crunches and squats have shaped a new body (and vocabulary) and, while I don’t look forward to every exercise, I do appreciate the feeling of accomplishment at mastering something new and the emergence of lats, glutes, abs, quads, biceps and triceps.
          I’m really talking about being fit here, not just not being fat. To me, that means combining regular workouts with a nourishing, appetizing, non-punishing diet. I don’t believe in starving myself or limiting portions of foods I enjoy which also happen to be healthful.
          No, it has not been a piece of cake. Not long ago I reveled in the embrace of cheesecake. French fries used to count as a vegetable. Coke or Pepsi? Depended on my mood. Salt and vinegar potato chips, bacon, butter and sour cream on my “healthy” baked potato. Lots of salt, lots of sugar, lots of fat. Lots of XXL shirts and not much energy.
          As I said, I was “fine.” There is, to be sure, a bit of bliss in ignorance. It’s all good … until it’s not. Turns out what I didn’t know was actually hurting me.
          Without going into too much detail, I have stopped eating red meat and almost eliminated salt, processed sugar and saturated fat from my diet. I eat a lot more vegetables and fruit -- as much as I want really -- and try to eat foods that have not been “enhanced” by additives I can’t pronounce and whose chief purpose seems to be creating a long shelf life. That means less packaged goods and more of what used to be called “food.” For some reason, the less we add to our food, the more it costs, but that’s a topic for another time.
          I don’t tell anyone how to eat (although I may still make suggestions to my son), nor do I tell anyone what they should do for exercise. Unless asked. Then, if I tell someone he can eat as much as he wants of different foods and and that it tastes good, but he says he wants to continue eating the same stuff, but smaller portions, I say, “Good luck.”
          If I suggest regular exercise and I hear the occasional-stationary- bike-and-try-to-walk-regularly mantra, I say, “That’s good. Good luck.”
My feeling is that any significant change comes down to motivation, not need. I have my own personal motives to change major areas of my life and I am fortunate to have found someone to help me make those changes. I don’t believe in using “old age” as an excuse for whatever ails me. If I did, I’d still be taking the drugs the doctor prescribed a year-and-a-half ago. I’m not bragging; that’s just the way it is, for me. We make our own choices.
          It’s simple. I like what’s happening to me physically, which is good for me mentally and spiritually. And I feel better than fine. I feel good.

 bobgaydos.blogspot.com