Idle American: Uncle Mort and his bats

My Uncle Mort sometimes has “bats in his belfry.”

Fact is, he’s heard such second-, third- and fourth-hand opinions so many times that he’s begun research about these flying mammals.

Now, he swells with pride when he hears the description, believing that he and bats are both grossly misunderstood.

The expression - first appearing in a Newark, New Jersey, newspaper in 1900 - suggested that belfry-bound bats dart about rapidly, even when trying to navigate enclosed spaces.

Nothing in those early days suggested that “belfry bats” - albeit acting erratically - had anything in common with “regular bats,” or even with some preachers, but the possibility gained traction.

Anyway, if Mort had hit the brake there, his mind (floppidity with “bat facts”) might have saved him from flailing about in the tall weeds of yet another doomed-to-failure “project.” (As we know, most of his “get rich quick” schemes turn to clabber.)

He started thinking about how the poor things have become demonized, playing secondary roles in horror movies, and too often labeled as “blood suckers.”

Scientists believe there may be as many as 1,500 bat species, all of ‘em emulating Good Samaritans on a daily basis. For example, they dine on mosquitoes.

Further, he learned that only three species suck blood, and none of them, even the most disoriented, have ever been spotted on this continent. Most are in and around Central America.

Bats in  Texas have big hang outs around Austin and Mason. Though he can’t prove it, he wonders if they are attracted to both politicians AND jars. “Perhaps we could import some of those blood-suckers to Austin,” he cackled.

“Maybe they haven’t felt welcomed most places,” Mort opines. “Lots of my friends go to great lengths to construct houses to attract our annual migration of purple martins, and several other bird species that come our way, but nobody I know is building bat houses.”

Now you are getting ahead of me! Yep, Mort is planning to mass produce what he believes will be revolutionary bat houses, with world-wide distribution projected.

“They won’t be as big as belfries,” Mort admitted. “But I intend to drill large holes on all sides, giving bats targets, no matter which direction they’re coming from. I think they’ll find these to be good places to hang out.” He wants to do his part to help bats, what with many species on the decline, some edging toward extinction.

Mort also recommends that churches build bigger belfries, maybe with padding. Another option might be for churches to avoid engaging pastors about whom mental acuity and bats are mentioned in the same sentence. He thinks congregations should seek pastors with horse sense or stable thinking.

Before leaving  this topic, the announcement of a $45 million budget shortfall at the University of North Texas is a hair-raiser. Bookstore sales of UNT bat, bird or gingerbread houses won’t square the budget.

With grant lists shortening and enrollment dwindling at some other schools, similar announcements will be forthcoming.

Maybe some of the deep pockets handing out big NIL checks to star athletes (name/identification/likeness) will float some dollars toward the listing mother ships.

Coming to  mind is the story of a tiny college in financial straits many moons ago. Hours before the trustees’ year-end meeting, the president and his staff were looking for pennies under sofa cushions.

They, along with the governing body, knew that finishing the year in the black was improbable, if not impossible. The educators high-fived, however, upon arrival at the last ledger line. They’d finished the year in the black, but by coins, not greenbacks. “Get the budget printed, and make sure to use black ink,” the president joked, jumping to conclusions - his favorite exercise. With brows furrowed even deeper than usual, the financial guy doused the celebration quicker than five-alarm firefighters.

Groaning, he blurted, “Sir, that won’t be possible. We’re out of ink, and if we buy any, it’ll need to be red.”

Dr. and Mrs. Newbury, married for almost 60 years, reside in the Metroplex. Speaking inquiries, newbury@speakerdoc.com, phone 817-692-5625.