Quit Hollerin’

Being an introvert, I really do not care for a lot of chaotic noise invading my world . . . my space . . . or my mind.  Sadly, we live in a world filled with chaotic noise pounding us from all directions stirring up vitriol creating division and divisiveness.  It seems and feels like everyone is hollering at one another.  It is wearing me down.  I want the hollering to stop.

John Prine wrote a song called Quit Hollerin’ at Me.  The premise of the song’s story is that the advertising world—especially on television—is constantly hollering.  Buy this!  Use this!  Say this!  Hear this! Yada, yada, yada!  This onslaught is overwhelming to the point that the singer has had enough and wants all the “hollerin’” to stop.  The truth is that the song is about more than advertising . . . it fits all the “hollerin’” going on in the world today.  You should listen to the song.

 

The hollering is all around us.  There is the economic hollering.  There is religious bantering.  There is the climate screaming.  There is the continual political yapping.  There is all the “ism” posturing.  There is gender and sexuality piping into the fray.  Everyone is striving to be heard.  Hollering . . . yelling . . .screaming . . . howling—noise, noise, noise!  All want us to listen and follow.  It is enough to drive a person insane—especially an introvert like me.

 

The scary thing about it all is that all this hollering is grounded in fear.  It is not about understanding the “other”.  It is about fearing the “other”.  Who is the “other”?  Well, that would be anyone who doesn’t see, believe, and live like the one doing all the hollering.

 

The idea behind hollering is that hollering gets heard.  And that might be true.  It might be true if everyone wasn’t hollering at the same time. It is all noise.  Noise has been proven to raise the anxiety level in critters and humans.  It seems to ramp up the fear.  Fear is the new bat used to beat people into submission.

 

In his 1933 inaugural address, President Franklin D. Roosevelt coined the phrase, “Nothing to fear but fear itself.”  His goal was to calm the nation’s people of their economic fears and to sell them on his domestic policies and programs to alleviate the problems of the Great Depression.  Then, of course, he started hollering and stoking up the fear if people didn’t listen and follow his guidance.

 

Fear is “an unpleasant emotion caused by the belief that someone or something is dangerous, likely to cause pain or be a threat.”  All this hollering is based on fear.  We humans do not like being scared.  Because of this we have bought into fear.  And, somehow, out of all this hollering we are supposed to discover the solution to all our fear . . . to all that scares us.  Yeah, right!  You tell me what you hear . . . I hear a lot of noise.

 

I’m tired of it.  I am certain that I am not the only one fatigued by all this hollering.  I just want some peace and quiet.  Don’t we all?

 

Sadly, I don’t think it is going to go away.  I think the past couple of decades has only seen it grow . . . that and social media.  Social media has only amplified the hollering.  It is out of control.  Fear is big business.  Fear sells.  It will get worse before it ever gets better . . . remember we are about to enter the “season of fear”.  It is an election year!  The hollering will only get worse as we enter the realm of politics in an election year.

 

All the hollering will center around fear.  What do we citizens of the United States of America fear?  Well, apparently a lot.  According to the annual research conducted by Chapman University’s Survey of American Fears it appears there is a lot of fears.  The survey covers 97 topics ranging from government, health and environmental matters to disaster preparedness, the paranormal and personal anxieties.  In 2023 the “top ten” fears were:

 

Corrupt government officials (1)

Economic/financial collapse (2)

Russia using nuclear weapons (3)

U.S. becoming involved in another war (4)

People I love becoming seriously ill (5)

People I love dying (6)

Pollution of drinking water (7)

Biological warfare (8)

Cyberterrorism (9)

Not having enough money for the future (10)

Other fears: terrorist attack (16), global warming (20), outcome of the next presidential election (23), and random/mass shootings (24).

If you take out the personal fears about the people we love, eight of the ten are familiar hollering themes that I have heard my whole life.  Several have been around way before I was ever born.  And we are all hearing them now as the election year ramps up.  Woe to our ears!

 

Whatever the case, fear is a mechanism of control by those in power . . . and it works!  It works because we humans are lazy.  We are looking for the easy way out . . . the loopholes . . . the least amount of time and energy spent.  If someone else is willing to do the work . . . then so be it!  If someone wants to tell us want to think and do . . . well, that is better and easier for us.  Our hope is maybe they’ll stop hollering at us.

 

Though we humans might be lazy, we do have brains.  We are capable of thinking for ourselves.  Even if it appears as if all the hollering has lodged itself in our heads, there is still our voice buried deep under all that noise.  Our voice.  Our voice of reason.  Our voice of compassion.  Our voice can lead us where we need and should go.  Our voice can speak for itself.  We ought to listen to that voice.  Listen and trust that voice.  If we use our own brains, do our own work, that voice will show us the way.  We must believe in ourselves because in the end it is our choice and no one else’s as to what we believe and do.

 

Think about it . . . those ten fears . . . what is new?  Corrupt government officials—show me a generation where this is not the case.  Economic/financial collapse—nothing new there.  Russia using its nuclear weapons—its been there since the Cold War.  I imagine that one of Russia’s greatest fears is that the United States will launch its nuclear weapons.  Another war?  Most of our nation’s history shows that we have been at war or in a military conflict practically every year of our existence . . . history proves this.  War is nothing new for us.  Pollution and climate change has been happening since I was a child and that was a long, long time ago.  When has money—in particular, having enough not been a concern?  There really are no new fears under the sun.  Just a lot more hollering about them.

 

We are not stupid.  We have the resources and the brain power to begin to solve all the fears we have.  We just need to stop listening to all the hollering and that includes our own hollering.  We need to sit down, listen, discuss and discern, and trust one another for the sake of everyone.  Everyone!  It can be done if we quit being bullied by all those hollering.

 

What we need is a mantra . . . something to remind us that we are fully capable of thinking for ourselves . . . capable of working together for the benefit of all . . . capable of community.  I think John Prine offered a good one: “Quit hollerin’ at me!”  Of course, we could add to it the classic line from the movie Network (1976): “I’m mad as hell and I’m not going to take this anymore!”  Combine the two and we have the perfect mantra to guide us in this adventure. 

 

“I’m mad as hell and I’m not going to take this anymore!  Quit hollerin’ at me!”

 

Hey, it works for me.  Might work for you.  We ought to at least give it a shot.  What do we have to lose?

 

Quinn No!

Since I have been writing the Big Old Goofy World blog the most popular and viewed entry has been Door Bell!  It has been viewed approximately 2,500 times.  Dora Bell was our miniature Dachshund.  Never in my wildest dreams did I think that a blog about one of our dogs would be the most popular thing I wrote.  Of course, if you knew Dora, it only makes sense.  After all she was a Dachshund, and everyone knows that the world revolves around Dachshunds . . . at least she thought it did.

Dora passed during the thick of the Covid pandemic.  She had just turned 16 years old.  That is a lot of years for any dog . . . quite an accomplishment for a Dachshund.  Her heart finally gave out and she took her last breath in the arms of those who loved her deeply.  It sadden our hearts.  A huge void was created in our hearts and lives.

 

Nine months later we got Birdie.  Birdie is a beautiful, kind, gentle, and playful soul of a dog.  She is a “Borgie”—a Border Collie and Corgie mix that we got from a ranch near Melstone, Montana.  We were told by the ranch family that we got her from that they used Borgies as cattle dogs.  Because of their shortness it is difficult for the cattle to kick them.  It was good to know even though we didn’t have any cattle.  Six grandkids were as close as we could get to cattle.  We got Birdie because she was the cutest, least active, and most beautiful of the litter.  Turns out she was pulling the wool over our eyes . . . She is cute, beautiful, but she is far from inactive.  Quite the opposite.  She has easily carved her niche in our hearts and lives.  A wonderful addition to the family.

 

This is not about Birdie.  Birdie’s story will come another day.  No, this is the story about Quinn.

 

Who is Quinn?

 

Quinn is the newest addition to the Keener canine family.  Quinn joined our family in March of 2023 at the ripe old age of seven months old.  She is a miniature Dachshund . . . and I mean miniature.  She is an itty bitty and weighs in at 8.5 pounds soaking wet at 15 months of age.  Well beyond her growing years.  It is hard not to fall in love with her . . . though I tried.

 

I tried hard.

 

Quinn comes from a pet store in nearby Billings.  A pet store my wife likes to frequent on her lunch breaks to see the puppies.  That is how she discovered Quinn.  She was the last of a litter of mini-Dachshunds that the store was selling from a Hutterite colony in Montana.  She was the sole survivor of the litter left unsold.  Probably because she was a runt.  She had been at the store for several months, which is odd for a puppy.  My wife fell in love.  The puppy reminded her of Dora.  Thus, began the emotional combat . . . the pleading . . . the tempting . . . the pulling of heart strings.  The onslaught was on whether I was ready or not.  Though she wouldn’t admit it, she was determined to bring Quinn into the family.  She began playing me like a fiddle.

 

For a while I resisted quite well.  Yet, at the same time, I had to admit that Quinn was quite cute from the pictures I received daily on my cell phone from my wife. It went against my better instincts.  This was a puppy from a pet store, and we have all heard the horror stories of puppies from pet stores.  To top it off, she had been there for several months, which is a long time for a pup to be in a store.  At the same time that was the trump card the wife played.  It was sad to see such a cute puppy living in a kettle in a pet store.  She needed freedom.  She needed a family.

 

Twang!  My heartstrings broke.

 

I was broken.  We negotiated bail for Quinn and freed her from her pet store captivity.  She was a free dog.  She waltzed right into the family and our hearts . . . though timidly at first.

 

It took her about a week to completely warm up to us . . . to trust us.  Now the wife had figured that Quinn would be her dog.  Much to her chagrin the little stinker attached herself to me.  The pup was like a shadow.  Everywhere I went, she went.  When napping she cuddled up on me.  The family teased me about how attached she was to me and that she wasn’t the sort of dog a masculine person would have.  It did not matter what I said, they were relentless.  I kept saying she wasn’t mine.  Luckily (for my sake) she has broadened her world and is willing to any available lap.  The wife is happier now.  Quinn still shadows me though.

 

But Quinn is not Dora . . . despite the resemblance.  No, Quinn is her own dog.  At the same time, she is a Dachshund.  Because of that she has many of the Dachshund traits.

 

Quinn loves to eat.  She is a bottomless pit where food disappears into the vast unknown.  Quinn has never met a food that she didn’t like.  I give her give her that. You name it, she will eat it.  Nor is she bashful.  She has no problem trying to help Birdie eat her food.  Thankfully, Birdie is fairly tolerant . . . she growls a little, but always leaves a kibble or two for her little sister.  You name it . . . Quinn will eat it.

 

Quinn is bossy . . . or maybe assertive.  She has no problem in letting people know what she is thinking.  Living by her stomach, she has an internal clock that lets her know its time to eat.  At 5:00PM, every day, she begins barking and letting us know that it is time . . . time to feed the pups!  She is pretty insistent about it.  Same with the morning and noon feedings.  When her stomach insists, she responds.  She comes to wherever I am, sits at my feet, rolls those big brown eyes, and starts yapping.

 

It is effective . . . she gets what she wants.

 

Same with playing.  She loves to play . . . especially with toys that make noise.  The louder and irritating the sound, the better.  Her goal is either to drive us crazy with the noise or, heaven forbid . . . she must get the squeaker out.  She is a menace to stuffed toys, she has methodically demolished and torn apart every stuffed toy apart . . . one limb at a time.  Her toys are scattered across the house and yard.  Plus, being a Dachshund, all the toys are hers.  Birdie isn’t so sure about that . . . but, again, she is patient with her little sister.  Dachshunds don’t share well.

 

Quinn loves to play.  She attempts to play with Birdie.  Birdie probably weighs five times more than Quinn.  Quinn is also small enough that she can stroll under Birdie.  Size does not deter.  She tries to play with Birdie . . . tires to play tug-a-war.  It lasts a few minutes and then Birdie shakes her head and Quinn goes flying and tumbling into the ozone.  Unphased . . . Quinn comes running back for more.

 

As I said . . . she’s a talker and lets you know she is there and has something to say.  I have come to appreciate these conversations.  I look her in the eyes and ask, “What?  Did Timmy fall into the well?”  Of course, this only prompts her to bark more.  She barks when she wants to eat . . . when she wants to play . . . when she wants to go out . . . to announce intruders.  I think she just likes to bark.  More times than not she grows tired of trying to get me to understand, turns and walks away.  I’m an idiot that she leaves in her dust.

 

I love her enthusiasm for life.  She is full of joy in the moment.  She loves life.  She loves her sisters.  She loves us.  It enthuses from her very being.  She often gets what we call the “rips” where she runs and zips through the house at lightening speed.  It is “damn the torpedoes!”  It is “full speed ahead!”  Thumpity thump through the house or yard at a hundred miles an hour—the thundering wiener is on the loose.  It is pure joy in motion.  A sight to behold.  I wish I had her enthusiasm for life.  I’d join her, but the wife would get irritated.  I’m not as graceful as Quinn . . . nor am I as cute.

 

Quinn is still a puppy.  She acts like a puppy.  She thinks like a puppy.  She is constantly exploring.  Constantly checking out everything.  She lets her curiosity get the best of her.  It often leads to . . . well everything she should not be doing.  That means she knows the word “NO!”  She knows it quite well.  In fact, she probably thinks her name is “Quinn, no!”  Dora was always barking at every noise . . . at every person who came to the door . . . at every visitor who graced our home—thus she earned the nickname “Dora Bell”.  Quinn has earned her moniker of “Quinn No!”

 

Quinn has taken her place in our heart and the legacy or pups we have loved.  She joins those that came before her . . . Pettie (Scottish Terrier), Whoopie (Akita), Maddie (Boxer), Dora (mini-Dachshund), Lucy (dapple mini-Dachshund), and Birdie (Borgie).  Throw into the mix our granddog Scout (Australian Shepherd/Border Collie mix), my current girlfriend, Stockton (neighbor’s dog), Moose (Great Dane and previous neighbor’s dog), Bear (Great Pyrenees), and Honey Badger (rez dog of neighbors).   We love them and loved them all.  They have made our lives better and joyful.  They have left their marks upon us . . . or as someone said, “Dogs leave paw prints on our hearts.”  Quinn has joined our family and lives with us.  We could not imagine it any other way.

 

You’d think we would learn.  Some unknown dog lover said, “Having a dog will bless you with many of the happiest days of your life, and one of he worse.”  Yeah, you would think that we’d learn.  It is worth the risk.

 

Yes, Quinn, yes!