This afternoon, as I was sprinkling Ice Melt on the path between my back door and the garage, so as not to die an untimely death from a fractured hip, thinking about environmental troubles caused by Ice Melt, I spotted my little red squirrel neighbor out in the alley. It reminded me of the other day, when yet another female engaged in yet another mating chase near my back yard. You have to admire the diminutive rodent - apparently the Brad Pitt of small animals. But, of course, even a diminutive rodent only breeds among its own kind.
And that's what reminded me of the folly, of the ignorance, of the ill will, of people who for so long assumed that the "mixing" of human races must be so unnatural. To a recent blog of mine, dealing with miscegenation, I got a response that expressed gladness at having to look up the word. At first, for a second or two, I thought, what? Glad not to know a word? But I quickly understood what he meant: Glad not to live in a world in which one has to know that word. And he's right.
Squirrels instinctively know their "kind," and so do people. And human "races" have absolutely nothing to do with such a biological distinction. Except for bigots, for whom I prescribe a liberal dose of Ice Melt.