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Gunter Svenson is 43 years old, and his grandfather, Dagmar Svenson invented the modern surfboard in Modesto California in 1943.
Gunter grew up on the beach, living in Modesto, San Diego, and for two unforgettable years, in a small shack on the Mexican side of the border on the Baja Peninsula. In 1978, Gunter graduated Summa Cum Laude from Berkely College of Music in Boston, MA. He was invited to join the London Philharmonic as a first chair oboe player. After seven years with the LPO, he retired, and began his travels to Tahiti, the Arctic, and a five year odessy on the big island of Honshu, Japan... where he studied swordmaking, and gathered material for a book he's writing on 14th century geishas.
Gunter speaks fluent Portuguese, !bantu, and is currently teaching himself to code messages in pictographs after the style of the Minoans.
Gunter lived in Mesa, Arizona with his dog, Cat, and a 400 year old cactus but then decided he'd rather be in New York City.
bio by Bo Gus (BIOWRITER)
Wish I was as rich as an elder living in NYC, with his own alligator farm to supply meat for experiments in his favorite hobby.
I don't like the sound of an alligator farm though I can easily see a dank basement somewhere downtown in Chinatown teaming with baby alligators.
Once upon a time way back i got talked into helping out in a similar place .though just growing bean sprouts not alligators ... damp, wet, rotting plywood beds in dim light, seeded with sprouts which had to be harvested after a couple of days, rinsed and packaged. My clothes reeked of mold after each session... turned me off to bean sprouts ever since.
Reminds me of one of my favorite dishes - morcilla ... blood sausage! here with black squid ink pasta.
We got a new cat. ZinZin likes alligator (minus the Thai curry of course,) sardines and lox.
She doesn't like vacuum cleaners.
Gathering storm clouds promise a welcome respite to a parched City after a long hot dry spell. I hurry home before the downpour, stopping to watch a pair of sparrows having at it right there on Third Street in the dust below a thirsty sidewalk tree. One of the sparrows gets the upper hand, so to speak, grabs his foe by the neck and starts hammering him into the dirt. He's gonna kill him! What to do, what to do?
A couple of neighbors join me, watching in horror. I can see their thoughts, same as mine: It's nature. It's normal. Nothing we can do. The pair of fighters begins to roll, oblivious to all, clenched to each other. They roll off the sidewalk over the curb and plummet through the grating of a storm sewer.
The neighbors hurry off without looking at me. I head home, mumbling to myself That's nature. It's normal. Nothing I could have done. I make it to my front door just as a clap of thunder shakes the air signaling the start of the deluge.
seems like a good place to hide ...
That is too cute! :D My kitty will hide behind my kitchen window curtain, but like your kitty, their tail is sticking out. :D
She's a handful, except when ...
Do Not Disturb! I'm taking a nap.
We humans gave up our position as the sole user of tools long ago. But, you say, there still is the exploration of space to claim for our uniqueness, something to be justly proud of. I think a closer look even there shows no single unique knack that makes us human, it's all a matter of degree, orders of magnitude, powers of ten.
Behold the lowly slime mold ! Lab experiments have shown it possesses enough intelligence to find and remember the route through a maze to get at food. But wait ... there's more: In the wild Protostelids, commonly known as slime mold, are solitary microscopic one-celled creatures which spend most of their life roaming forest floors while munching on decaying leafs, fallen trees and such. Perhaps it's when they bump into each other too often, or when there is not enough to munch on, or simply because they want to accomplish greater things, they band together and join into a gelatinous protoplasm, a blob, that goes galumphing through the underbrush, leaving slimy strands snagged on twigs and stones. That's what gets it noticed and why it's called slime mold.
At some point the blob finds a suitable spot to stop. Using their own bodies the creatures build a launch tower, then top the tower with a capsule containing a payload of their precious spores. Don't know if there is someone doing a countdown but there is an explosion and We have a Liftoff! The capsule with its precious cargo soars into the wild blue yonder to find new worlds, to boldly go where no slime mold has gone before.
It's all a matter of degree, orders of magnitude, powers of ten.