Cowledge And Mooniversity
Ninety-four years after the Battle of Culloden, a gold coin was found in the hoof of a cow. What is to be made of this historical tidbit?
Bonnie Prince Charlie and his army were brutally routed by the Duke of Cumberland. The Jacobites were out of money and supplies, notably food, down to one biscuit per man per day. The marshy terrain as well as adequate nutrition and better munitions also favored the English army. The Stuarts had a tough time charging through the boggy ground; six thousand of them were killed compared to only 300 of the redcoats. The few Scottish fighters who survived the brief battle were killed by the English who waited four days to kill any of the insurgents who tried to stagger out of the slop.
Enough history lesson for one blog. Back to the cow with the gold coin in her hoof.
Some historians argue that the gold coin came from a hoard that was enroute to support the uprising. Perhaps a French ship, under attack by the British, dumped the gold in the Loch. Years later, a coin showed up in the hoof of a cow.
So what should we do 200 years later. Should we drop everything and head to Scotland with a metal detector? Should we quit our jobs to allow time to examine every cow in Scotland!. Afterall, an ounce of gold is worth thousands of dollars, and the value of an antique coin would be significantly more. Should we ponder every hoof, examine every cow?
What’s that you say? Popping off to the UK to meander around in a swamp is a poor business plan? Just because ONE farmer found ONE piece of treasure in the hoof of ONE cow doesn’t mean that there are oodles of coins in every bovine appendage?
Hmm. When you put it that way, I have to agree. Or as Aristotle mentioned in the Nicomachaen Ethics 2600 years ago, one sparrow does not make a summer. One piece of gold in one hoof two centuries ago is not a cogent reason to pop across the pond investigating random cows.
Then why do loving parents extrapolate from one admissions data point to direct the rest of their children’s educations, activities, and entire lives? Trombone is said to be the “scholarship instrument!” Susie plays Trombone and was admitted to a Highly Rejective College. Never mind all the other Susies who play trombone who WEREN’T admitted. (Thinking of the entire 500-person first-year class at Old Bricke University composed exclusively of trombone players just tickles me.) Never mind that Susie was also a brilliant scholar, took the most sophisticated academic coursework her high school had to offer, and had 99th percentile test scores. Never mind that Susie built a nuclear submarine out of sticks and mud in her basement. No, no. Susie was admitted ONLY because she played the trombone.
Nah.
I tried to push the analogy to suggest that we should all trot off to the bog in Scotland to look for trombones in the hooves of cows but all I can come up with is one trombone does not an admission decision make. But I do have some gentle advice for loving parents: Your children may or may not wish to pursue the trombone. Or in addition to trombone they might want to learn about the uprising that was quashed at the Battle of Culloden or become familiar with Aristotle’s Nicomachaen Ethics. Or read whatever they darn well please and learn that which is of interest to them. I might recommend The Phantom Tollbooth, the Prime Number Theorem, evolutionary psychology, and Beethoven’s Seventh for starters, but again, your child, their choice.
Rather than encouraging your kids to learn a little of what is exquisitely awesome about the world, you could instead decide to go to Scotland searching for gold trombones in the hooves of cows; let me know how that works out.
