When Friends Come to Play by Jane Tolbert

My dad always remembered when his cousin Kate came to play and usually took the best marbles. When we were kids, if our parents invited their friends for dinner, the kids came too. Sometimes we had fun. Other times, the kids appropriated our favorite toys, mocked our imaginary forts or tree houses, or . . . .stormed through our play area (usually cars and houses and animals lined up according to the stripes on the oriental carpets), breaking things and wrecking havoc. Telling us their toys were bigger, better or newer. . . .

Playing with friends is part of growing up. My kids had friends over, and most of the time, no casualties occurred. But on occasion, the Maple Town bears got injured, the doors of both a dollhouse and a car parking garage were pulled off their hinges and Ken had his foot chewed off. Another battle ensued over who would become Queen Frostine (in the game of Candy Land). But some visits passed slowly. We ran out of games in the first 20 minutes of a four-hour afternoon. The visitor spent the remainder of the time by the window, waiting for a ride home.




Now that my kids are grown, the only play that occurs takes place when a small, energetic Chihuahua mix comes to visit the resident cats. For the first 20 minutes, they chase each other from room to room over chairs and sofas, and under tables. Gradually, the cats drop out of the game and disappear out of reach to recover.

Later, the cats reappear, batting their toys about as a type of invitation to play. The dog usually chews a bit too hard on the tiny mice and foam balls. And the dog toys are too big for the cats to carry. Causalities include the horns on a buffalo and felt mice. The Chihuahua races around, playfully nipping at the cats who return a couple swipes with their paws. After another vigorous 20 minutes, the cats curl up on the sofa with the dog or they disappear. The small dog waits by the window for her ride home. Plus ça change. . . .

April 22 is Earth Day! By Jane Tolbert

One of the Florida springs





Prairie, south of Gainesville, Fla.



Gorges du Loup with the village of Bar sur Loup, France. Although you can't see Gourdon, it's a perched village that overlooks Bar sur Loup and, on a clear day, you can see the Mediterranean.




Wild flowers (cistus)grow. In the Mediterranean basin, you can find miniature orchids as well as the herbes de provence.



View from Juan-les-Pins looking toward Cannes. The Esterel Mountains are in the background.









Crane Creek, Melbourne, Fla.


Earth Day. . . . Enjoy and protect! And if you have some time, comes to the Springs Forum at the Randy Batista Gallery Thursday night at 7 p.m. (Gainesville)

Les actualitiés. . . in the Nice Matin by Jane Tolbert

A boar was rescued as it swam two kilometers from the Marina Baie des Anges. A sailboat ran aground on a reef early Sunday morning just off the coast of Antibes. These news stories made headlines of the Nice Matin over the weekend.

But even the Nice Matin increasingly shows more focus on events of global import. This weekend, European news was dominated by the crash of a plane carrying 96 Polish officials en route to Katyn to commemorate the 1940 massacre of 22,000 Polish elite under the orders of Stalin. And the Nice Matin, which often focuses on the “insolite,” provided coverage. News travels ever more quickly in our global community.

Years ago, neighbors in my rural French community told me political assassinations or disasters were of little importance to their way of life. They meant, they still worked as masons or would have an aperitif at the end of the day, and they looked forward to hunting season. But with globalization, we have become more involved with events outside of our home communities. When I learned of this weekend’s tragedy, I wrote a Polish friend in Nice, where 3,000 Poles live. Within a couple of hours she wrote back, “There are tragic locations that attract misfortune.”

Headlines of the national media focused on Poland. Of the numerous articles about Katyn in Le Nouvel Observateur, a translated essay from Newsweek (“What Next for Poland’ by Andrew Nagorski) pointed out that certain events (like Pearl Harbor in the US or Katyn for the Polish) become symbols of tragedy, just like my friend had pointed out. These places need no words to convey the enormity. The journal also carried reactions from dignitaries around the world, including that of former Polish president Lech Walesa. Le Monde described journalists in tears and compared the gathering of dignitaries at White House to Buckingham Palace when news broke about the death of Princess Diana.

News not only travels fast, but so do reactions. For some readers, the Polish disaster raised questions about why so many officials traveled together on one plane. Others questioned airline policy that allowed landing in unsafe weather. Some readers criticized journalists for their lack of objectivity in coverage. Too much emotions and too many clichés, these readers said. Still other readers alluded to the cover up—the attempts to blame Nazi Germany for Katyn rather than Stalinist Russia. Unlike the media of years ago, we now have a type of dialogue that brings additional meaning to these events, some of which might have remained buried in history.

Swimming boars and grounded sailboats provide strange and ostensibly trivial stories that link together tragedies of great magnitude. Like its counterparts, the Nice Matin has always covered local news, which reflects the fabric of our society. But it also provides the major stories and reader reactions, which suggest that people do seem concerned by what transpires outside of their immediate community.

Scary Roads and Elusive Bike Racks by Jane Tolbert

More than two weeks ago I discovered (and purchased) a Saris “Bones,” which gives me the freedom to drive to safe biking routes. Given that Florida ranks among the top states in the nation for biking fatalities, I tend to ride very defensively.

But with the onset of warm weather, I decided to bike to run errands from my house. After all, I could use the back roads to get to Office Depot and the public library, both of which are only 10 minutes away. And even with construction, bikes can usually squeeze through.

But quickly, I encountered a major problem. The one back road—a critical intersection that enabled me to avoid the scary traffic—was under construction. Large trenches blocked me. Road construction and detour signs directed all traffic through endless neighborhoods of winding streets, depositing us on the big, scary roads in the midst of weaving traffic. My 10-minute errand turned into a 40-minute ride (well, I did get a workout ). When I arrived, I discovered that Office Depot, where I do a lot of business, had no bike racks. The manager did offer to let me park inside. As for the public library, those books will have to wait. The library has moved the bike rack to a very distance and isolated area by a Dumpster.

Google has recently unveiled its mapped bike routes, according to an NPR story aired on March 31, 2010. These maps will help all cycling enthusiasts to arrive at their destinations safely and quickly. But reader comments related to the bike maps pointed to a few “kinks”—like a 600-mile detour to avoid a bridge. And NPR reporter Jacob Fenston and a friend encountered additional difficulties when they tested a Google bike map to ride from Washington, DC, to Arlington. The estimated 34-minute ride actually took twice that long because all traffic was prohibited in some zones.

The bike map project arose from the efforts of Peter Smith, an Austin, Texas, resident who collected the 50,000 signatures to convince Google to create bike maps. Like Smith, cyclists everywhere dodge drivers on cell phones or with a trailer of lawn equipment or a boat in tow. The other day, a car flipped over on the causeway bridge just hours after I had biked by there.

The day safe bike routes in Melbourne are mapped by Google, I hope they include detours, bike racks and those stores where nice managers offer to help.