SERVING HENDRICKS COUNTY SINCE 1847
Page 6
The Republican
Thursday, February 4, 2021
Voices
Hinduism: We Don’t Bite! By Krishna Lathish [This week, Voices welcomes a new contributor. We’ll let her introduce herself: Hi! My name is Krishna Lathish, and I’m a junior at Avon High School. I am 16 years old and very excited to be able to contribute to The Republican! I’ve always been an avid reader and a childhood with my nose in the books eventually led to wanting to write myself; I hope to go to college on the west coast with a major in journalism/media studies and become a literary editor or journalist. I’m excited to get to know the community!] The first school I ever attended, from 1st to 2nd grade, was Chapel Hill Christian School in Speedway. Learning bible verses at school and coming home to the Ramayana may seem confusing for a child, but I never had a problem with it. No one had to explain to me that you could go to school, read about and respect Christianity, and still be Hindu. However, when I brought up being Hindu as a child, I was met with confused stares and insensitive questions. Why did I have to respect their religion when they didn’t do the same? Did The Golden Rule only apply to fellow children of Christ? But I wanted to be rational. There’s no point in holding grudges against children, and what knowledge they didn’t have of world religions would develop through the school system and world experience, right? But by my friends’ own admissions, they barely know anything about Hinduism, aside from some vague memories of freshman year history. Most didn’t know there was a Hindu temple in Avon. This didn’t make me angry, but more disappointed. There are many Indian people in Hendricks County, a lot of them practicing Hindus. I’ve always appreciated this town for it’s diversity, but what’s the point of diversity if people are made to feel like outsiders? But idle complaining doesn’t accomplish anything, so instead I’ll give you a crash course on Hinduism. It’s the world’s oldest religion, dating back 4,000 years, and is polytheistic, emphasizing the importance of samsara (the cycle of life) and karma (cause and effect). The “goal” of Hinduism would be to attain moksha: freedom from the cycle of life and death as part of the supreme soul. God is referred to as Brahma when formless and Paramatma when corporeal; in this form, God comes as the figures Brahma, Shiva, and Vishnu. All this could be learned from a simple Google search, or even better, through asking a Hindu friend. My experience in Hendricks County leads me to believe that this lack of education isn’t malicious, but rather from a fear of asking the wrong questions or not knowing the right people. But as a Hindu girl, I can assure you that your Hindu friends are more than happy to explain. And if you don’t have any yet, make a visit to one of the numerous (over 15) Hindu temples in Indiana! If all of that isn’t convincing enough, just know that we love to feed people. I’m not perfect either. I don’t know every catechism or perfectly understand the Torah or Quran, but I’d like to take the first step. There’s so much to be gained form learning about the world and beliefs that you haven’t considered before, and there’s never anything to be lost by making someone feel more welcome. When we all move towards inclusivity in Hendricks County, there are no losers. ______________________________________________
A Squirrel About Town By Archy “Pendergast took this one.” Archy was showing me his family photo album. We were looking at a cabinet photograph of a well-fed squirrel, balanced on his haunches, beside a pile of walnuts that exceeded him in height. “It’s an occupational,” he added casually, describing a vintage photo showing someone in the garb of their profession or with the tools to their trade. “Grandpa Phineas was a noted gatherer.” The album was old fashioned, with a plush velvet cover, but the photographs were of exceptional quality and sharpness. He turned a page to show a view of Main street from a considerable height. “Taken from Grandfather Enoch’s nest,” he explained, “near the top of the hackberry tree that stood on the northeast corner of the court house yard. Planted when the old Gothic brick court house was completed, by one of the men who helped build it.” Archy’s collective memory kicked in. “Young squirrels used to race to see who could be the first to climb to the top. The squirrel brides used the witch’s brooms from the tree to fluff their nests when the in-laws were coming. It was a shame they cut it down.” I didn’t know squirrels had their photos taken. “We town squirrels had an agreement with the photographers,” he explained. “They took our pictures, without charge, and we agreed not to bombard their skylights with walnuts. Equitable, don’t you think?” He turned to a photo of a desk with open books scattered across the surface. “Cousin Osorio attended Central Normal College,” he said with no small measure of pride. “Took the Scientific Course. Became Professor Tingley’s assistant. “ I pictured a squirrel in a white lab coat, holding a beaker of foaming liquid. “Not that kind of assistant,” Archy snapped. “He and his comrades helped Tingley string the wires for the first telephone in town, in 1879. Wires had to be strung through the trees because there were no poles. The squirrels threaded the wires so they were windproof.” “Quite a family you come from,” I said admiringly. “Everybody’s got one,” the squirrel said. “They just don’t always know about them.”
ASK MR. TRAFFIC
We offer Voices as a place to share a story, a memory, an idea, a comment, a criticism, or a solution. Contributors must include name, address & phone number. (Please keep submissions under 500 words)
Exploring Hendricks County
By Jackie Horn With Groundhog Day this past week, I feel the need to ask the question,
Groundhog: Harbinger of Spring or Just Another Large Rodent? Every year on February 2nd, the folks in Punxsutawney, Pennsylvania, pull a poor drowsy rodent out of his man-made winter burrow and ask him to tell the world whether Spring is here or if we need to endure six more weeks of winter. Punxsutawney Phil isn’t the only groundhog to be abruptly awoken to predict the weather. Wiarton, Ontario; Sun Prairie, Wisconsin; Dunkirk, New York; Staten Island, New York; and Atlanta, Georgia, all have their own woodchuck weathermen. (Sorry ladies, for some reason all the prognosticating whistle pigs are male – or at least have male names.) As a kid I really believed. The groundhog didn’t see his shadow? “Get my shorts and sandals out, Spring is just around the corner!” As I got older, and wiser, I questioned why I didn’t see any Hoosier woodchucks getting out to check the sun? It seemed to me that winter dragged on regardless of the sky conditions on one early February morning. So what’s up with Groundhog Day and Spring? The tradition of waking up a groundhog to foretell the end of winter was brought to America with Dutch and German immigrants. February 2nd is the mid-point of winter and in the Old Country, a badger was thought to be able to predict the coming year’s weather. Woodchucks are more common (and a little less feisty) than badgers here, so a groundhog was used. Groundhogs (which are large ground squirrels or marmots also known as Woodchucks or Whistle Pigs) are one of the few true hibernators. They build a winter den, usually in a brushy or wooded area, below the frost-line. After gorging themselves all summer and fall to put on weight, they enter the den in October and “sleep.” While they sleep, their body temperature can drop as low as 35 degrees Fahrenheit and their heart rate falls to 4–10 beats per minute. They breathe once every six minutes. When Spring comes (usually in March or April in Indiana, NOT February) they wake up, emerge from their dens and mate. The 2-6 babies are born about 30 days later. Dad may or may not stick around to help out with rearing the young. By August the young are ready to build their own burrows for the following winter. The problem I see with trusting the groundhog for weather reporting is visibility. Unless you know where a burrow is and stake it out, or one crosses the road while still drowsy and becomes roadkill, you miss the heralding of Spring’s arrival. A much more dependable animal for announcing Spring, in my humble opinion, is the Skunk.
Skunks are not rodents. They are most closely related to weasels. Not a “true” hibernator, the skunk does enter into torpor (think Hibernation Lite). They move into a den (often the same one every year) and enter a dormant phase. They become inactive, eat very little and sleep deeply. Like groundhogs, skunks emerge from their dens in early spring to mate. The females birth 4-7 kits, usually in May, 66 days after conception. (Counting back, the skunks are reappearing and mating about the same time as the groundhogs.) Mom raises the offspring alone. She protects them with the scent that we all associate with skunks. Interestingly, a skunk will give predators plenty of warning before spraying. Skunks’ memorable black and white striped coat is a warning. “Remember me? You don’t want to get too close there Buddy.” If that doesn’t work, the skunk will flip its tail around, hiss and stomp its feet. If all else fails, it sprays. A skunk doesn’t want to spray. Its limited supply of stinky chemical takes ten days to replenish, rendering them almost defenseless until then. It’s that smelly spray that makes the skunk my favored harbinger of Spring. You don’t need to see a skunk (or their shadow) to know their winter slumber is over. Skunks have terrible eyesight. They can’t see anything beyond 10 feet away. Add to that, when they first leave their burrows, they’re a bit groggy and wander into the road. Forget groundhog shadows. Use your nose. You’ll know when spring is in the air. ______________________________________________
By Chet Skwarcan, PE, President/ Founder of Traffic Engineering, Inc. Chet@TrafficEngineering.com
All Developments Generate Traffic
Exception: Ice Cream Shops Today’s column addresses, by far, the most asked question from my readers, “When do you plan to pay back all that money I loaned you?” On second thought, let’s move on to the second most asked question, “What are we going to do about all that traffic?” This question has become the standard question to ask whenever a new development is proposed near your house (or in your community — unless it’s an ice cream shop or a Taco Bell — then we really don’t care about the traffic — nor should we). Granted, it’s a reasonable question. All development results in more traffic — some more than others — some, a LOT more than others. And as we all know (by now), increased traffic goes hand in hand with living in a desirable community. Maybe there’s a better question, “Is the proposed development consistent with community goals and land use plans?” If the answer is ‘yes,’ then increasing traffic is no surprise. In fact, it’s a by-product of living in a flourishing community. Should traffic stop increasing, well, now that’s something to be concerned about. The important question then becomes, “How can we best accommodate extra traffic?” This is where a traffic study quantifies existing traffic patterns, predicts future traffic, and overlays one on top of the other to identify what needs to be done. Recommended improvements such as more turn lanes or traffic control have a common purpose: to maintain accessibility, efficiency, and safety for both the existing and future traffic on the adjacent roadways. How soon we forget — all of us were, at one time, future traffic. ______________________________________________
Our Readers Write Spring where art thou? Even though it has been a mild winter thoughts of spring always make me feel better. There have been so many downers this year: violence, political problems, and worst of all covid. The first day of spring this year is March 20th. But already we are seeing more daylight, signs giving numbers for baseball signups, trucks delivering farm equipment, and nurseries with opening dates to name only a few. Years ago we knew spring was close when the dairy queen in Brownsburg opened (They used to close for the winter) and Jesse’s market also in Brownsburg started having onion sets and seeds for planting. Let’s start the countdown to spring to give us a boast. It’s approximately 48 days til spring. Bee Jones Brownsburg ____________________________________________
Introducing The Indiom Challenge What is an Idiom? It’s a hot potato, rest assured, it’s a bitter pill, easy peasy really. Idioms set the bar, best thing since sliced bread, don’t bite off more than you can chew, though. Let’s not beat around the bush, it’s the best of both worlds. There is a method to my madness, some may say I’m not playing with a full deck, off my rocker. I just take it with a grain of salt, don’t want to steal anyone’s thunder. Now, don’t throw a hissy fit, God don’t like ugly. Bless your heart, now y’all give me some sugar. Hold your horses, I reckon it’s time for a come to Jesus meeting on this. Don’t let the door hit ya where the good Lord split ya” Well, I’m busier than a one legged man in a butt kickin’ contest, it’s time for me to fly, if you catch my drift. I love these. My brother could “turn a phrase” as well as anyone and I do miss that about him. Do you have a knack for “turning a phrase”? You are always welcome to stop by the paper for a chat. Jerry Vornholt
Idiom Challenge
Use one of the following idioms in a conversation this week: “It’s colder than a brass toilet seat on the shady side of an iceberg.”
“Hotter than a goats butt in a pepper patch.” “I’m so poor I couldn’t jump over a nickel to save a dime” _____
[Got a favorite idiom or family saying? Send it to us and we’ll try to “spread the word.” Just send an email to betty@TheRepublicanNewspaper.com, put in the mail to P.O. Box 149, Danville, IN 46122, or give us a call at 317-745-2777. _____________________________________________
