The National Cherry Blossom Festival along the Potomac River is back. The magnificent cherry trees are in bloom to announce the arrival of spring. They are early this year, perhaps in anticipation of an influx of tourists eager to see Congress in action, or maybe it is global warming. Who knows?
Once many years ago, I visited Congress in session. I recall watching distinguished politicians, men and women, debating the important issues of the day. “My distinguished friend…”, or “The gentleperson from the great state of…” was the order of the day when addressing one another while considering important legislation.
Watching Congress on C-Span now suggests that decorum is rare these days. Perhaps the tourists should just skip visiting Congress and seek out something more pleasurable, like the cherry trees.
By the way, remember “Stumpy”? He/she lives, sort of. Back in 2024, the National Park Service planned on cutting down 300 trees including 158 cherry trees to make way for a new retaining wall along the river so Washington would not become a swamp. (Not sure that worked. But I digress, as I often do.) One of those trees was the popular “Stumpy”, long a favorite attraction because, though hollow and half dead, it continued to blossom year after year, attracting tourists from all over the world.
The Park Service promised to take cuttings from old Stumpy and grow new offspring from the famous tree. And they did! (At least one government department keeps promises.) The National Arboretum has successfully grown “baby Stumpies”, clones which are flowering and will be ready to be planted next Spring. The tourists and the birds will be glad about that.
Speaking of birds, do you remember the Bird Call Phones I wrote about last year? Dave Schulman, a violinist and audio producer in Maryland, turned an old phone booth into one that plays bird calls when you dial different numbers. It became very popular and he planned on expanding the idea to other cities. I know this because Mr. Schulman, who apparently reads The Wanderer, emailed me to thank me for mentioning his invention. How about that!
Another phone booth of note you may have heard about is the “Call a Boomer” booth installed near the campus of Boston University. The phone is connected to a phone in Reno, Nevada, a popular gambling and casino venue, that sits in the lobby of a senior citizen housing complex. The idea is to encourage “meaningful” communication between generations. Do you think college kids are angling to get gambling tips from the senior citizens?
Phoning strangers is not new. In 1948 a phone booth was installed in the middle of the Mohave Desert miles from the nearest paved road. Its purpose was to provide emergency communications for remote miners. After the mines were abandoned, the phone remained operational. A man discovered the phone booth on Google Earth, visited it and published the number. People from all over the world began calling it. Campers began setting up tents, and RVs started to arrive just to talk to anyone who called, and call they did. The number of people eager to talk to somebody…anybody, from somewhere else began to cause serious environmental issues on what was now the Mohave National Preserve. The booth was removed in 2000 and replaced by a “headstone-like” plaque. Much like “Stumpy” the saga of the Mohave phone booth was resurrected in the form of three films, a podcast, and a novel, proving that someone will monetize just about anything.
Speaking of which, did you hear about Punch the monkey? Punch is a Japanese macaque who was abandoned by his mother and was rejected by his troop of fellow monkeys. Zookeepers provided Punch with a large stuffed orangutan that he quickly bonded with and refused to be separated from. This touching tale naturally became a worldwide sensation. The zoo, with increased attention and attendance, began selling Punch merchandise, profiting nicely. Even IKEA, the furniture giant, began selling stuffed toy monkeys with arms wrapped tightly around an orange orangutan toy.
As for the real Punch, he has finally made friends and is living happily, still clinging to his orange friend.
Mattapoisett resident Dick Morgado is an artist and happily retired writer. His newspaper columns appeared for many years in daily newspapers around Boston.
By Dick Morgado
