city of bigness

Literature, international cuisine, and foreign policy

2012-02-12T15:38:00.003-06:00

Good to know: In libraries where non-fiction is organized by the Dewey Decimal System, cannibalism (394.9) is next to etiquette (395).

Another sad story from my home town, where sometimes people aren't all that bright: A single mother loves her teenage daughter so much that when the clock strikes midnight and the daughter is now 18 years old, the mother wakes up the daughter and says that for her birthday they're going out immediately to get her favorite breakfast, a breakfast burrito at McDonalds. They get dressed and drive out to a McDonalds that's open 24 hours, but unfortunately they don't make breakfast burritos at 12:30 am. The end. No! It's not the end! Do not think they are totally sad people! They got insurance to pay for complete home repair after it burned down, possibly due to cigarettes lit in the presence of the grandmother's oxygen tank (she lives there too). So they got that going for them.

Word to the wise Republican candidate looking for a standing ovation: Accuse the French of being un-American.

New way to meet people

2012-01-18T20:20:00.001-06:00

The el train was full of commuters leaving downtown at the end of the workday. At one platform, a young woman got on; her petite build and short haircut reminded me of Tinker Bell. She seemed tired in some distinctive way. She wasn't winded from running… no, she looked the way I feel when I think I'm going to throw up. She looked like she was going to pass out, and a woman gave up her seat for her. After a minute, the seated Tinker Bell leaned forward and retched an orange mess that splattered directly between her feet. Another woman helped clean her face with tissues.

A passenger notified the train operator; he stopped at the next platform and came back to confirm that the woman was not having a medical emergency; he sprinkled sawdust over the orange puddle and the ride continued.

I was a little surprised to have seen it coming. I had an empty plastic bag in my backpack at the time, and I could've offered it to her preemptively. I'm just not sure of the most tactful way to offer it: "Excuse me young lady, you look like you're about to vomit. Would you accept this bag? Please forgive me if that's your normal expression."

Things I realized this year

2011-12-31T19:09:00.001-06:00

In the year 2200, female astronauts will have names like Marge and Betty, according to science fiction stories from the 1950s.

When I get to the office first thing in the morning, the only sign of life is the occasional cockroach. I'm beginning to think we're never going to walk in and find a kitten.

I try not to take it personally that my favorite TV shows are sponsored by Abilify, a prescription medicine for depression.

If the people on the train suddenly lost their smartphones, they'd all have to bring lap desks to lay out the cards for solitaire.

Favorite lines paraphrased from a podcast episode of the Thrilling Adventure Hour:
German vampire: "My name is Nosferatu."
Sadie Doyle: "Is that what it sounds like?"
German vampire: "What?"
Sadie Doyle: "A Scrabble rack of leftovers played as a bluff?"

Every child at the library is quieter than the parent shushing him or her.

At an office downtown I saw an elderly hunchbacked man creeping along with the aid of a walker. He was wearing blue jeans and a black motorcycle jacket. I still don't know what to think of that.

I am quick to be offended but slow to forgive, so it balances out.

Next year the word "wheelchair" will be replaced by "empowerment chariot."

I had believed the whole movie up to that point

2011-12-18T16:14:00.001-06:00

We always get training in the office for any new software or upgrades. Reference materials used to include printed text; now they come solely in the form of video tutorials which are much harder to tack to my bulletin board. But the training concept reminds me of a scene from the movie Independence Day that still bothers me years after seeing it. Jeff Goldblum settles into the chair of an alien flying saucer and takes about 1.8 seconds to scan the dashboard and declare that he can figure out how to fly the spaceship. This was the ship that traveled a distance too far to imagine, destroyed all the most picturesque architectural achievements of the planet, and measured 15 miles across. Oh yeah, and it was BUILT BY EXTRATERRESTRIAL ALIENS.

I've been in a software training class where an employee actually keeled over from an anxiety attack and had to be escorted to the hospital; clearly this co-worker was no Jeff Goldblum. Still, it's possible that in the movie we didn't see a dashboard screen aimed at Mr. Goldblum containing a little character saying, "It looks like you're hijacking the saucer. Would you like help?"

Disturbing the peaceful

2011-11-20T15:21:00.001-06:00

This must have been tried by now but I haven't heard how it went: At the site of a peaceful protest in an urban area, I would like to see protesters set up a lifelike sculpture of a human being sitting on the ground, fully dressed, holding a sign, and probably wearing sunglasses to cover the dead eyes. Fill it with discarded animal organs and blood, or something similar. Wait for a cop to confront the motionless being and record a video of what happens when he finally whacks it with a club. I'm curious about whether he'd stop or keep going after the head explodes in a cloud of chicken livers.

Beatrix Potter Mud Flaps

2011-11-06T20:02:00.000-06:00

These heavy-duty mud flaps are made in the U.S.A. of 3/4 inch durable high-quality rubber. Sold in pairs. Each features the characters of author/illustrator Beatrix Potter.

Easy to install and remove using your vehicle's two-inch drawbar or ball mount - no drilling required. All styles including best-selling Peter Rabbit and Squirrel Nutkin flaps have center hub and support rods of heavy gauge aluminum construction.

New Jemima Puddle-Duck flaps contain a two-pound steel plate molded into the bottom of each flap to increase flap weight and protect against windsail.

All styles including Appley-Dapply and Mrs. Tiggy-Winkle contain a layer of tear-resistant fabric for long-lasting quality.

Sale - 10% discount for Timmy Tiptoes and Cecily Parsley mud flaps, same quality construction as our best-sellers.

I'll see you

2011-10-21T21:42:00.001-05:00

Today was Y's birthday; she would've been 44. Our best years together were in the 1980s and I'm starting to think I might not forget her. At the best times our senses of humor traveled side by side at the same speed in the same direction and it was exhilarating like nothing else. The night I learned of her death I fell asleep and dreamt the most basic form of wish fulfillment: The coroner had been wrong! When he pronounced Y dead, he had actually been examining a storefront manikin. He was simply an idiot, the death announcement was a mistake, she was still alive.

Here's how it worked at the memorial concert for George Harrison: Toward the end of the show, after the big crowded-stage noisy superstar numbers, when you thought that was the finale, musician Joe Brown came out and sang the final song accompanied by his ukulele playing. I've viewed it multiple times and the visual display that gradually starts just after the one-minute mark gives me the chills every time. (Link to YouTube, five minutes)

Uncertainty by Jonathan Fields leaves nothing to chance

2011-09-29T20:07:00.001-05:00

This isn't funny ha-ha, just funny weird. A book on Amazon has a publication date of September 29, 2011 and on today, its publication date, it has 34 five-star reviews, all dated today, September 29, 2011. I can't think of another book that was purchased by so many speed-readers. (Link to Amazon page for Uncertainty by Jonathan Fields)

Honey, let's pull out all the stops tonight

2011-09-18T18:29:00.001-05:00

Sex in the 1780s was one of the subjects covered by Ariel Levy in last week's New Yorker magazine, in the Books section. She writes:

Late eighteenth-century London even had its own fabled piece of erotic machinery, the so-called "celestial bed." It was invented by James Graham... In 1781, Graham moved to Pall Mall and introduced his "wonder-working edifice": forty glass pillars surrounding a twelve-by-nine-foot electrified bed, covered by a glass dome, tilted to what Graham promised was the ideal angle for conception, and wired so that a pipe organ produced "celestial sounds" as a couple copulated upon it

Due to a lack of imagination, I can only think of one song that a pipe organ would be playing in such a setting:

Roll out the barrel, we'll have a barrel of fun
Roll out the barrel, we've got the blues on the run
Zing boom tararrel, ring out a song of good cheer
Now's the time to roll the barrel, for the gang's all here

Three short paragraphs

2011-09-11T16:20:00.001-05:00

I started to read the new Psychology Today article about narcissism, but when I found that it didn't apply to me I lost all interest.

Sometimes I speak before thinking, usually at work. I was at my desk leafing through a stack of reports in my lap to answer a question for a lady who had stopped by my cubicle. It didn't take long to find the answer and before the lady left, I made a point of telling her that all the reports I had been paging through were also available as free downloads from our company's network. The way I said it was, "Everything in my lap is available for free online."

Highly recommended: This episode of Affirmation Nation with Bob Ducca, in which a character experienced in healing strategies for body and mind reviews a new product, the Colonica Handheld Travel Bidet (Link to three-minute audio).

High society

2011-08-28T20:14:00.001-05:00

F. Scott Fitzgerald must have had a fun time coming up with the names of the people who came to the parties at Jay Gatsby's house. They included:

The Chester Beckers

The Leeches

Edgar Beaver

Clarence Endive

The Stonewall Jackson Abrams of Georgia

The Fishguards

The Ripley Snells

Mrs. Ulysses Swett

S. B. Whitebait

Maurice A. Flink

Newton Orchid

The Catlips and the Bembergs and G. Earl Muldoon

James B. ("Rot-Gut") Ferret

George Duckweed

S. W. Belcher

The Smirkes

Faustina O'Brien

Mr. Albrucksburger and Miss Haag, his fiancee

Ardita Fitz-Peters

and Miss Claudia Hip

...so as you can imagine, it was quite a summer. (From chapter 4 of The Great Gatsby.)

Microphone and telephone

2011-08-14T15:39:00.001-05:00

In an office environment, the person who steps up to speak at the podium can't resist creating this exchange:

"Good morning!"

Audience responds, "Good morning."

"Oh, you can do better than that! Good morning!"

Audience responds, "Good morning," a little louder.

The speaker cocks his/her head to the side, one fist on hip, and says, "Oh, let's try it one more time! Good morning!!"

This could go on. I've never seen it tried at a memorial service though.

Given the chance, it would be hard to resist power games at the office, like commanding a large group of people to speak, even though the outcome is to alienate the entire room.

At a previous job, we used to have an out-of-town VP whose bag of tricks, during a long-distance phone call, included uncomfortable silences to make you nervous. My boss warned me about it so I was prepared, when it happened, to let the silence play out when I had to give the VP an unwelcome answer. Years later, the VP relocated to work in our building and it was hard to be intimidated by a guy who looked like a big pink frog.

The sound of revelation

2011-07-31T18:24:00.000-05:00

At the office I sent an email to a supervisor to get his decision on a part of a project. If I heard from him soon, I would be able to proceed and make the deadline. After half an hour I began to wonder when he'd reply. Then I heard "Pfffff. Fffffft. Ffft. Fffffffffft," from his cubicle -- the sound of compressed air being used to clean a keyboard... and I had a better idea of where I ranked on his list of priorities.

"I once was lost, but now I'm f-OW!"

2011-07-24T22:07:00.002-05:00

I am ashamed to be one of the last people in the country to learn about Christian paintball, because as it turns out I've lived within driving distance of America's Best Christian Paintball Park, located in southeastern Wisconsin. (Link to Promised Land Paintball)

Their web site includes testimonials:

"I am very grateful for your ministry. One of the things my wife said she wanted me to be was more fun. Well now I have help." Ron

NOW I realize why my relationships have failed.

"We drove over 2 hours to get to your park. I came with a friend's youth group. It was my first time paintballing. Once I saw your park and many fields, I was in Heaven." Justin

That must've presented a challenge for the person who had to deliver your eulogy, Justin.

Obviously, there would be no problem opening a Muslim paintball park, and the competition would be a healthy one. [After five seconds on Google] Oh crap, I can't make up anything anymore: (Link to Muslim Paintball Games of Kentucky)

This Side of Paradise

2011-07-11T22:22:00.001-05:00

There was a street fair in the neighborhood a few weeks ago. I do believe I've had enough Peruvian flute music to last me the rest of the year.

The high point and low point of the year are, so far, food and a phone call, respectively. A narrow range of experience. No naked marathons to the summit of Mount Kilimanjaro, no improvised explosive devices blowing my arms and legs off.

The highlight was discovering donuts and bacon on the treats table at work. Context is everything: It was a surprise, it was 3:00 in the afternoon, and for the year preceding, the treats table had nothing but stale licorice and dusty packets of generic microwave popcorn. Then on that Magic Day, March 3, I came around the corner and there was more bacon and donuts than a person could eat, and I was the last one to find it. I could take as much as I wanted because everyone else had already had their share. There had been a meeting of important people upstairs and they had cast off the remnants to the little people. When I first saw it I involuntarily made some little grunt. I took a handful of everything and scuttled back to my cube and made it disappear in an efficient manner. With great dispatch. You can go to Donut Lodge or Bacon Plantation and get the same food but it's not going to be a surprise; the impact will be like a tap on the nose. A light touch. (There were no ill effects.)

For the low point, understand first that I turned off my phone's ringer about ten years ago. If a caller is someone I know, they start to leave a message and I can hear that and pick up. But tonight I turned on the ringer in case my brother returned the message I left on his phone. I was anxious to hear whether he had landed a better job. The phone's ringer had been on for less than an hour and when it rang, like a chump I picked up instead of screening it, and godDAMN it was somebody else who wanted my money.

They are so good at my alma mater. My old institution of higher learning. Their highly refined technique is: Get a young female graduate who can maintain a smile (you can tell it's there) on the phone, be bubbly and act interested in somebody twice her age, strike up a conversation about the school you have in common, and propose that the alumnus pledge $200, or $100, or $50, or $25, or how about just $10, and Oh My God their endowment is $5.9 BILLion, I just looked it up (wow that girl is good) and now I'm glad I didn't pledge anything but invited them to send me a mailing. If girls had been half that interested in me while I was a student there, well, it boggles the mind, it would have been like... unexpected fried dough and cured meats.

Visit your local library

2011-07-04T13:16:00.001-05:00

I found this document on a shelf in the downtown location of the Chicago Public Library some years ago, and it was so unique that I never threw it away. It's a photocopy of a four-page letter dated 1990, all hand-printed in capital letters on graph paper, addressed to a government official. Converted to normal capitalization, it begins:

Dear Sir:
I would like to take your time by addressing this letter to you as a son would to a father. There comes a time when a man is appalled over what is happening to him in his own country: His mail pilfered, his brain "wired" by a device that is simply constructed and implanted by the CIA...

The rest of the letter is hard to read because the sentences are lengthy and sometimes turn out to have no verbs corresponding to the nouns way back at the start of the sentence.

Eventually the letter charges the director of the CIA with treason but never reveals anything of interest. The letter's style is a mix of lawyer-speak and State-of-the-Union phrases like "all of the items contained therein and pertaining thereto," "both at home and abroad," "in times of peace and in times of war," and "my inalienable right."

The writer mentions the US Constitution at least five times. He gives his birth date and religion, for what it's worth. He takes care to note in his heading that he composed the letter at "0710 hours eastern standard time, 0610 hours central standard time." For good measure, he adds that he's sending a copy of the letter to the president.

To seal the doom of the accused, the writer finishes by claiming that he has evidence stored in three safety deposit boxes, and then he names the banks and their locations. Dude! You're not fully paranoid if you give away that kind of detail to the government.

Despite the writer's recommendation that the CIA director answer a list of questions while "under a truth drug," such events never came to light, and an online search implies that the writer must have died years ago, leaving no remains but those brain wires, I imagine.

Things I haven't missed from the last condo

2011-06-05T18:45:00.001-05:00

1. One of the owners received complaints from the people living in the unit below his, that water was leaking from his bathroom down into theirs. So he called a plumber. The plumber examined the bathroom and said that his plumbing was fine but his bathtub needed a recaulking and that would stop the leaks. The plumber never got paid, because "he didn't do any plumbing." I don't know if that owner applied the same principle to good checkups at the doctor.

2. The condo management company cashed one of my checks twice, according to the bank, first as an "electronic transaction," and again the following day as a regular paper check. I didn't even know this was possible, and the bank teller's eyebrows went up when I showed her the paperwork and got it resolved. The condo management company was incompetent in many ways; this was the most innovative.

3. After the condo board fired that management company in favor of a better one, an owner contacted the new manager to say that he was about to sue the condo association unless they patched the roof above his top-floor unit. (This was his first call to anyone on the subject.) The manager gently explained that since the owner was a member of the association, he would, in effect, be suing himself for repairs. He backed down; good man.

And proud of it

2011-06-01T19:14:00.001-05:00

A man in a business setting described his race as "first-generation Caucasian," and I lost track of whatever he said after that.

Mother's Day

2011-05-17T20:12:00.001-05:00

The 39-year-old woman took a marker and wrote "PUSSY" on the leg of the boy who lay unconscious. The woman was at home with three kids: one was her 13-year-old daughter, and the daughter had invited two of her friends, a girl, 13, and the boy, 14.

The kids and the mom were in the woman's home on a Friday night, and among the four of them they had beer, pot, and cocaine. The woman also gave a couple of her prescription morphine pills to the boy, and that's why he was still unconscious on Saturday. That's when the woman wrote the word on his leg.

When the boy failed to wake up, they finally called for help, the boy died two days later in the hospital, and a year later the woman was found guilty of murder by a jury that included a relative of mine.

Salesmanship

2011-05-13T19:07:00.001-05:00

A pitiful acquaintance, now selling a single magazine subscription door to door, visits Mrs. Bridge in her home:

At length he became aware that she was waiting for him to explain the visit, so he worked out of his pocket a crumpled little magazine which was titled The Doberman, and he held this up for her to see.

"Oh?" said Mrs. Bridge.

"I don't guess you or Mr. Bridge'd be much interested in subscribing to this, would you?"

She had suspected he was selling something, and she knew that whatever it might be she would have no use for it.

"I really hadn't planned on subscribing to any more magazines, Mr. Gadbury."

He nodded in complete understanding. "You wouldn't want it unless you had a Doberman." Then an idea came to him and he sat erect and asked, "You don't have one, do you?"

"No, we don't."

"Nobody does," he said despondently. "They eat an awful lot, I think."

From the novel Mrs. Bridge by Evan S. Connell.

It's been 25 years

2011-05-01T14:26:00.000-05:00

She said that she was working for the ABC News
It was as much of the alphabet as she knew how to use
Her perfume was unspeakable
It lingered in the air
Like her artificial laughter
Her mementos of affairs

By a bicycle factory as they sounded the siren
And returned into the dancehall she knew he was the one
Though he wasn't tall or handsome she laughed when he told her
I'm the Sheriff of Nottingham and this is Little John

The big light came through my window and it opened up my eyelids
And it snapped them up like roller blinds and told me things that I did
I can't face another day and night of good ideas and complications
And I'm thankful that I didn't open another bottle of inspiration

When we first met I didn't know what to do
My old love lines were all worn out on you
And the world walked 'round my mouth
I didn't mean to say it
I just blurted it out
As you pretended not to notice
Or be taken aback
And I loved you there and then
It's as simple as that

He's got all the things you need and some that you will never
But you make him sound like frozen food, his love will last forever
Still he knows what you want and what you don't allow
And I hope you're happy now

As I stepped out upon the landing my heart was already down the stairs
She's in the bedroom with that boy of hers
Though her face is creased and her eyes seem strange

What do we care if the world is a joke
(Tokyo Storm Warning)
We'll give it a big kiss
We'll give it a poke
(Tokyo Storm Warning)
Death wears a big hat 'cause he's a big bloke
(Tokyo Storm Warning)
We're only living this instant

In the spring of 1986 Elvis Costello released King of America; in the fall he released Blood and Chocolate. All lyrics by Declan MacManus.

Use words

2011-04-24T20:20:00.001-05:00

When I was a kid, I couldn't tell a joke because I kept laughing. The punch line, coming out of my mouth, sounded like a combination of words and giggles that people couldn't understand. I worked on that until I could keep a straight face, and as a grownup in an office, a bunch of us had the most fun sharing a sense of deadpan humor and understatement that gave us a healthy perspective when under pressure.

Then emoticons were invented for email communication and deadpan humor was out of style. The little faces at the ends of sentences were like a poke in the ribs: Get it? I made a joke there! Here's a smiling face on its side to denote that fact! I know I'm out of step with everyone I know, but I can't get used to it, and I hope it never comes to this:

We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness. :o)

Now is the winter of our discontent. :-[

Blessed are the meek: for they shall inherit the earth. : p

If you're like me you just read this book

2011-04-03T16:58:00.001-05:00

An account of collegiate entrepreneurship from Mike Birbiglia's book Sleepwalk With Me:

Keith... was expelled for making fake IDs in his dorm room. He had built an enormous driver's license from Arkansas that people stuck their face in. And he would photograph them, and then laminate it.

Vented

2011-03-13T16:39:00.002-05:00

A recently elected congressman says he's "...ready to go to war," in reference to his willingness to carry out his constituents' wishes. Somehow, I get the feeling that politicians who use war metaphors for a desk job are unlikely to have ever served in the military. This seems to be the case here, according to his House of Representatives web page biography. Source of the "ready to go to war" assertion: (Link to Time magazine)

Every day I'm reminded of the impact of heredity. When I intentionally offend someone, I get that behavior from my dad. But when I accidentally offend someone, I'm taking after my mom.

I never saw the movie Avatar, and don't plan to, because its advertising was too full of cliches. Avatar is one of 58 movies and TV shows that have used a version of "we're not in Kansas anymore" as listed in this compilation from some poor hard-working soul: (Link)

Baby names for your consideration: Harbinger, DeFault, Pandowdy

New book out: "1001 Video Games You Must Play Before You Die." Come and make me. I'm ready to go to war over that one. (Link to Amazon)

Drama in real life

2011-02-27T16:19:00.001-06:00

Watching from the restaurant window, we saw the young couple, probably college kids, leave the restaurant and go out to their car, parked just out front. The boy plucked a slip from his windshield; it was a parking ticket. The girl beside him looked it over and they spoke for a second. The boy took a step away, held the ticket out in front of him, and ripped it into little pieces. Then he walked over in front of his car and knelt down to a manhole cover where he stuffed the paper bits into the hole. They drove off.

Dood! Just tuck the ticket into your pocket and go home, jeez. You're lucky the cop had moved on. (I assume the cop wasn't watching.)

She so funny

2011-02-06T20:26:00.003-06:00

I lost her site and then found her again:
(Link to shoesonwrong)

Choreography

2011-01-16T13:59:00.000-06:00

The union of music with movement of the human body can yield the most complete fulfillment of the human spirit's expression. The most famous examples include the ballet Swan Lake with music by Tchaikovsky, seen recently in the 2010 movie The Black Swan.

Another example of the triumph of choreography is available here, particularly at 50 to 54 seconds into the video. This performance enters into the realm where words become inadequate, and there is nothing left to do but watch and remember.

(Link, Brotherhood of Man, 1976)

Good thing I didn't play it on speakerphone

2010-12-20T20:03:00.001-06:00

I did a lot of Christmas shopping online this year. My apartment has no place to receive packages when they're delivered, so I have all boxes sent to the nearest Ship N Save and I pick them up when I can.

The Ship N Save has my office phone number and they call and leave a message when one of my shipments has arrived. But when I played back the most recent notification, the lady with the raspy voice chose a new kind of phrasing:

"Hello William this is Judy from Ship N Save. You have a small package. Goodbye."

Holiday reruns:

(Link to Nov. 2004)

(Link to Dec. 2006)

Child rearing

2010-11-21T09:53:00.002-06:00

"The kid's in there drinking my best gin. Get him out of here before I drive a spike through his head and make him a decanter."
-- W. C. Fields

Changing the clocks affects everybody

2010-11-07T18:09:00.000-06:00

There's a store nearby that has two orange and white cats living in it. I walked past the storefront this morning and the cat in the window was obviously disturbed. Normally the cat and his sibling would be lounging in the window looking relaxed. But here it was 11:15 am, the store was closed, and this one cat was frantically looking out for the owner to arrive and set out their food.

We had turned the clocks back an hour last night, but the cat didn't know that. The store would open at noon. So this morning at 11:15 the cat was clearly not cool about thinking the owner was late. His head was snapping left and right, looking worried. I would like to have been there to see the cats greet the owner, but I'm not in the market for used women's clothing.

Disgruntled, disheartened, and bewildered

2010-10-24T18:24:00.001-05:00

While waiting for the train yesterday morning, a guy asked me if I had a cigarette. I said sorry, and he sat down and pulled out his phone. He said, "Hi, it's me. I just woke up five minutes ago, outside, and I didn't know where I was. I have never been to this neighborhood. I didn't even know the train stopped here! Yeah. I went to a party last night, then I wake up outside, and all my merchandise is gone..." By then the train was pulling up so I missed the rest of the conversation. And that man was Cardinal Francis George, Archbishop of Chicago. No no no, that last sentence is not true.

Still, my neighborhood, which is not that remote, has pulled in this kind of traveler before. (Link) This spot must be the end of some wormhole, receiving people somersaulting through multiple dimensions of space and time, only to crash here in the Chicago area, disappointed, disoriented, and far from home.

What the Tea Party Doesn't Know Yet - A Haiku

2010-10-03T19:56:00.001-05:00

What's worse than losing:
Winning and then becoming
Gasp - an incumbent

Insufficient persuasion

2010-09-21T21:32:00.000-05:00

There was an interesting story this morning on the radio:

[Beginning of transcript excerpts, NPR's Morning Edition, Sep. 21, 2010]

STEVE INSKEEP: ...We begin in the Senate, where a single provision is holding up a big Defense policy bill. Senate Republicans object to that provision, the one that would allow the Pentagon to end the policy called Don't Ask, Don't Tell. NPR's David Welna reports.

DAVID WELNA: Last week, Senate Majority Leader Harry Reid tried for the second time in two months to bring up the policy-setting Defense Authorization bill... It would take 60 votes today for the Senate to take up the Defense bill and that's why one person in particular has been urging people to call their senators.

LADY GAGA (Singer-songwriter): My name is Stefani Joanne Angelina Germanotta, also known as Lady Gaga.

WELNA: Lady Gaga went to Maine yesterday in a bid to sway the votes of that states' two Republican senators, Olympia Snowe and Susan Collins, both of whom remain uncommitted. Earlier, the pop singer recorded herself, calling her own senator, New York Democrat Chuck Schumer.

LADY GAGA: I'm calling to ask the senator to vote with Senators Harry Reid and Carl Levin to repeal Dont Ask, Dont Tell, and oppose John McCain's shameless filibuster.

WELNA: That kind of pressure has failed to sway South Carolina Republican Lindsey Graham.

[End of transcript]

Let the record show that NPR's David Welna delivered that last line with a perfectly deadpan tone, and that the Republicans today resisted the political acumen of Ms. Gaga, even if it means they're lagging behind the increasingly tolerant minds of the American voting public.

It would have been a significant speech to witness if any Republican senator had faced his or her constituents to say that their vote on today's Defense bill had been influenced by someone of Ms. Gaga's notoriety.

Still, it brings to mind comparable instances in our history. Liberace and the Agricultural Act of 1954. Buddy Hackett and the Supplemental Defense Appropriations Act of 1967. Cyndi Lauper and the Balanced Budget and Emergency Deficit Control Act of 1985.

War of the Worlds panic explained

2010-09-15T19:38:00.000-05:00

When I was a kid and learned about how many Americans panicked in 1938 because they heard a radio dramatization of War of the Worlds and thought Martians were truly invading, I always thought they were just stupid people.

It wasn't until I heard this episode of Radiolab that I began to understand what made that 1938 radio show seem so realistic. The Radiolab hosts convinced me that a combination of luck, timing, and audio techniques could've fooled me too, if I were alive back then and not listening carefully.

The episode from 2008, about 60 minutes long, is the single best podcast I've heard this year: (Link)

Appearances

2010-08-22T19:10:00.001-05:00

Lately I've found that I do things unconsciously while I'm reading. At work I was proofreading a document for quite a while. I got up to use the bathroom and noticed in the mirror that I had been apparently gouging a groove in my forehead with my thumbnail while proofreading. On other occasions I've caught myself twisting my ears while reading; afterwards my ears were all red in the bathroom mirror. Solution: Quit looking in the mirror.

If you've ever been on North Michigan Avenue in Chicago, maybe you've seen a guy with a face painted silver and wearing silver clothing. At first there was just one silver man, standing perfectly still on a box, and I believe he had a container conveniently placed where people could contribute cash for whatever his solo tableau was worth. Later another silver guy or guys dressed in the same way, across the street, but I think they used music and robot movements in their act; I never stopped to watch. Last week I stood next to one of those guys on the morning train to work. Fun fact: His silver clothes smell like they've never been washed.

I was getting ready for work and checked out the condition of my pants before putting them on. There was a hole worn through the seat of the pants. How long had they been like that? I'm sure I wore those pants a couple weeks earlier. Supposed comments from fellow commuters waiting on the train platform: Gee, if it weren't for the gouge in his forehead, the red ears, and the hole in the seat of his pants, that old man would look pretty friggin' suave.

Dear Mr. Answer Man

2010-08-01T20:03:00.000-05:00

Dear Mr. Answer Man,
Why do I keep seeing news stories about competitive eating? Where do people get the idea to do this stuff? I saw one where a guy ate 50 hot dogs in ten minutes.
Gary

Dear Gary,
It's all from the Christian faith. In a Bible story known as the miracle of the loaves and fishes, Jesus ate one hundred loaves of bread and seven fishes in one sitting. And since He did it on his birthday, it was a Christmas miracle. Thank you for your question.

Oh bother

2010-07-25T20:31:00.001-05:00

Last week I moved to a new apartment and it's better than the old one, except for the water pressure.

My old apartment building went up around 1960 and the plumbing apparently was never modified to 21st century standards. The shower stream was forceful, the bathroom faucet blasted out the water, and the toilet flush was deep, resonant, and sustained like a nuclear bomb. I demonstrated it for friends, and I think it inspired the same shock and awe in them as it did in me.

On the other hand, the new apartment is great but in the shower, the water comes out so slowly it falls like feathers, hitting the tub floor... eventually. Standing under that shower nozzle with the water running is like being hit by dozens of watery little Winnie-the-Poohs, giving tiny hugs that you can barely feel.

Take Your Bike to Work Week

2010-06-27T14:10:00.000-05:00

Chicago just finished Take Your Bike to Work Week, and while the event was again a success, some Chicagoans applied a personal interpretation, taking their bike to work on the train. Yes, this burns extra calories, lugging that handsome $1,000 machine up and down the stairs to the train platforms, but I feel it misses the spirit of the event.

I understand why people take their dogs on vacation; the dogs are family members who clearly enjoy the change of scenery, looking out the window at new sights and smells. But I never saw a bicycle display the same amount of enthusiasm, even when going on a big exciting train ride. Sure, they look interested, but they're always able to stand motionless, never drooling or panting.

Taking your bike to work on the train does serve to publicize the event, not only to the train commuters who see or step around the bike, but also to the two or three would-be riders who can't fit on the train because of the space taken by the bike itself. Those folks even participate in some indirect way, watching as the full train leaves the platform. Still, there is no better way for bicycles to learn firsthand about the opportunities available to them in the working world, so ideally more people will join in next year.

I'm no fun

2010-06-07T20:00:00.002-05:00

My bank cracks me up. Every time I go over there for some errand that can't be accomplished through an ATM, the staff has to sit me down and try to sell me on some great new checking or savings account. I had almost forgotten that a friend who used to work at this bank explained what goes on there. It's a nationally known bank, rhymes with Space.

My friend's department got year-end bonuses based on how many "new" accounts they signed up. The best part was, it didn't have to be a new customer or new money. If they got somebody to move some of their money within the bank from Smiling Young Models Checking to Shiny Happy Checking, it counted toward their year-end bonus. The employee with the biggest bonus was the one who gamed the system most blatantly.

Today they also wanted me to start doing more banking online. In order to get on with my life, I had to bite my tongue and not tell them about my co-worker losing money during online banking when a computer virus read his keystrokes and fed his password to a scammer who was depleting his balance while he watched. (He got reimbursed, but still, I wouldn't volunteer for it.)

Mr. McCluskey in the Library with a Candlestick

2010-05-31T20:35:00.003-05:00

"You are responsible for the death of my husband!" said the voice by way of introduction when I answered my office phone. I had given the usual greeting for my company and department, but after hearing that much instead of "Hello," I was so surprised I stayed silent for a moment, and the lady went on. "My husband did a lot of good work and you took his job away and he died!" she said. She went on to say that she had just received some bit of company mail from us, and didn't want to receive any more. She hung up as soon as she had unburdened herself. I got her phone number from my caller ID display.

After researching the issue, it turned out that the husband had concluded his employment with the company six years ago, and three years after that, he died. We couldn't find out if he was fired, or why, but he had worked in another state. I guess the lady had received company-related mail for a long time before deciding she'd had enough, but Jeepers. I was relieved to find out that I hadn't actually killed a guy on the east coast.

P R N D L

2010-05-12T20:22:00.000-05:00

Got a flat tire on the highway of love.
Lost a second hubcap on the highway of love.
Drove into a ditch just off the highway of love.
Let off with a warning on the highway of love.

Eight-car collision on the highway of love.
Turn-signal flashing for ten miles on the highway of love.
Not looking at the roadkill on the highway of love.
Got stuck behind a Wienermobile on the highway of love.

Four miles to the Stuckey's on the highway of love.
Reading Spiderman #149 on the highway of love.
How long to the rest stop on the highway of love.
That car is from Delaware on the highway of love.

I sure could use a Nehi on the highway of love.
That trailer is "The Nelsons" on the highway of love.
I'll turn this car around right now on the highway of love.
I've heard the wind so long I can't hear it anymore on the highway of love.

Hypnotized by phone wires along the highway of love.
That truck is shiny clean on the highway of love.
A UFO has landed on the highway of love.
Inordinately proud of our hood ornament on the highway of love.

New radio stations, old music on the highway of love.
Fairly light traffic on the highway of love.

Can't resist

2010-04-12T20:14:00.001-05:00

It was early on a spring Thursday morning near Michigan Avenue and a Streets and Sanitation worker was using a tool to open the valve for one of the water fountains that had been off all winter. He stood up from bending over the valve and tested the handle. A graceful stream of water shot twenty feet into the air, making a glittering parabola for a second. The worker looked over his shoulder, turned back to bend back down to the fountain, and completed his adjustments.

I think I can, I think I can

2010-04-06T20:35:00.001-05:00

A few days ago: "We need a Brown Line train over here!" shouted the man on the northbound Belmont platform, although I didn't see if he was shouting at anybody in particular. I'd never thought of this: public transit on demand. Imagine a fleet of trains held in reserve so that when a citizen shouts, a crack team of CTA staff leap into action.

Fellow riders: When you step onboard the train, planting both feet to stand just inside the doors while you survey the area left to right for the Ultimate Seat, are you waiting for your name to be superimposed under your face like you're in the opening credits of a sitcom? 'Cause you're blocking my head shot; I'm right behind you.

I must've just missed the bank robber whose stolen money exploded with red dye at my subway stop after work tonight. The Tribune article couldn't be any more specific than to say it happened during "rush hour." Note to robbers: If your getaway vehicle is the Red Line, be prepared for waits of 5 to 8 minutes during that time of day. Unless you're counting on that new "Public Transit on Demand" to be in effect.

Craig Ferguson, young punk rocker

2010-03-17T19:47:00.001-05:00

In his memoir, Craig Ferguson remembers the punk revolution of 1977, when he was a kid:

I formed or joined a slew of different but always awful bands with memorable names such as Night Creatures, the News, Prussia (what the f***!), and the Fast Colours. Truly woeful outfits that would rehearse in garages. They were literally garage bands, and they had the trademark of all fledging rock outfits, the one kid crowbarred into the group despite playing a hopelessly inappropriate instrument (flute/oboe/accordion) because his father had a car and was willing to ferry our instruments to practice. You have never heard "Anarchy in the U.K." butchered until you hear it with a clarinet solo.

-- From "American on Purpose."

A book about the making of The Simpsons

2010-03-13T17:07:00.000-06:00

An animation executive producer talks about the reaction of producer James L. Brooks upon seeing the first episode of The Simpsons come back from the Korean animation studio in 1989:

He got really disappointed because none of the jokes worked, and then all of a sudden he started to scream and yell, saying, "What is this?" He just went off and he even started to demand extra camera angles, which was the funniest thing ever -- he never did animation in his life. He asked for coverage like when you're shooting a live-action movie. "So where are the other camera angles?" My producer and I were just looking at each other.

-- From The Simpsons: An Uncensored, Unauthorized History by John Ortved

Work, or the like

2010-02-28T18:51:00.001-06:00

At the office, Jane is seven months pregnant and her baby-to-be, a boy, is doing a lot of kicking, we hear. That is, Jane told us he is kicking a lot, we don't actually hear the kicking.

A friend wrote about the current job market and theorized that she'd like a less demanding job, like "product tester in a Sharpie factory."

All I meant to say at work was that I'm sorry about my manager's poor health, and that I understand it's common for the parents of small children to catch whatever sickness the little ones bring home from day care. But in referring to his darling daughters as "germy kids" I'm afraid I may have used a poor choice of words.

Porn Star Steps Down After Allegations of Legislative Activity

2010-02-13T19:43:00.002-06:00

Adult film actor Thomas Fryble announced in an emotional press conference today that he is dropping out of production on his current movie in order to devote more time to his once-secret second occupation serving on the Cook County Board of Commissioners. Mr. Fryble's position on the Board was alleged yesterday in an anonymous call to a local radio station.

Mr. Fryble admitted before reporters that he is active in Cook County government helping to pass ordinances, levy taxes, and oversee spending of numerous county agencies.

Fellow board commissioners were astonished to learn of Mr. Fryble's primary occupation as an actor in dozens of X-rated direct-to-DVD films. Correspondingly, members of the adult film community were appalled to find that Mr. Fryble had been elected to the Cook County Board in 2004.

Mr. Fryble's co-star Misty Meadows was expected to be standing beside him at today's press conference, but did not attend. A family friend speaking on behalf of Ms. Meadows stated that Ms. Meadows had just learned of Mr. Fryble's position in local government yesterday and didn't want to be seen with a politician.

[I'm sure this kind of story has appeared elsewhere, but I couldn't find it.]

Dear Mr. Answer Man

2010-01-31T17:34:00.001-06:00

Dear Mr. Answer Man,
Today at noon I was in a crosswalk walking north, halfway across the street, and a little black SUV coming south made a left turn before I was out of its way. The SUV clipped me and the driver's window was open and I heard the man say "oh!" like he was surprised at the sound of the impact. The SUV spun me around in a counter-clockwise direction but I never fell down. I assume that the driver never stopped or slowed down because he saw in his rearview mirror that I remained on my feet. Is that proper etiquette?
Intact in the Suburbs

Dear Intact,
No, of course it's not proper etiquette. As far as I can tell, you never apologized for hitting the SUV, which, as a vehicle, had the right-of-way. If possible, try to get a witness who can give you the SUV's license plate so that you can track him down and mail a handwritten apology and a small amount of cash, less than $100, as a token of your sincerity.

Dear Mr. Answer Man,
Your lack of empathy makes me wonder how you got that job.
Intact

Dear Intact,
Given that we are typing to each other via the fingers of Bill McCluskey, I'd say you have better things to worry about than how I, a figment of his/your imagination, got an imaginary job. Which is about to be farmed out to Bangalore, anyway.

Clive James on nuts

2010-01-18T15:42:00.000-06:00

Clive James writes about Macadamia nuts:

When I left Australia fourteen years ago, the only way of getting at the kernel of the Macadamia was with a large hammer, since the nut came equipped with a casing of the same dimensions and consistency as ball-bearing ammunition. If you swung the hammer absolutely vertically the casing fractured and the kernel rolled away. If your swing was even slightly angled, the nut disappeared with the sound of a ricocheting bullet, and you might see an old lady collapse in the street, clutching her forehead.

From the anthology Flying Visits.

Al Franken, boy caddy

2010-01-13T20:09:00.000-06:00

In Tom Davis's memoir he passes along a story from his old writing partner Al Franken, from when Al was a boy:

At thirteen, he earned money as a caddy at a country club golf course. One golfer was playing poorly and became cranky with his caddy.

Golfer: "You must be the worst caddy in the world."

Al: "That would be too big a coincidence."

From Thirty-Nine Years of Short Term Memory Loss by Tom Davis

Status update

2010-01-10T14:04:00.000-06:00

If that damn cockroach would just step into one of the ten roach motels I've set up around this apartment, I think it would be like winning the Powerball Lottery. UPDATE: He did, and it isn't.

Hypothetical Facebook status settings for my dad:
This country is going to hell in a:
a. handbasket
b. bucket
c. second, because of the Democrats
d. '68 Camaro

I admit that advertising influences how I spend my money. Old commercials for Snickers candy bars said: "Packed with peanuts, Snickers really satisfies." Every couple of weeks I get a jar of peanuts, just because of that ad.

The mother and her three-year-old daughter got on the train and sat down in the seat just ahead of mine. The girl was quiet and looked out the window for a minute until she got bored. She got up on her knees and turned to face me sitting behind her. Tired already, she leaned against her mom and stuck her thumb in her mouth, looking at me the whole time as I read. It had never occurred to me to try this on the morning commute. I could turn around in my seat and stare at the person behind me. I'll let you know how it goes.

Children, meet your new baby brother

2009-12-31T06:21:00.001-06:00

From the autobiographical Life Among the Savages, by Shirley Jackson:

They followed him into the living room, and stood in a solemn row by the couch. "Now don't touch," their father said, and they nodded all together. They watched while he carefully set the bundle down on the couch and unwrapped it.

Then, into the stunned silence which followed, Sally finally said, "What is it?"

"It's a baby," said their father, with an edge of nervousness to his voice, "it's a baby boy and its name is Barry."

"What's a baby?" Sally asked me.

"It's pretty small," Laurie said doubtfully. "Is that the best you could get?"

"I tried to get another, a bigger one," I said with irritation, "but the doctor said this was the only one left."

Firesign Theatre for Jack Poet Volkswagen

2009-12-08T20:42:00.001-06:00

In order to advertise the virtues of the repair shop at Jack Poet Volkswagen, Firesign Theatre performed a commercial in which a satisfied customer testifies, "Hi there, I'm Tony Gomez, and I wanna tell you that I get my car fixed at Jack Poet Volkswagen every morning before I come to work..." (Link)

Bad for productivity

2009-12-06T19:31:00.001-06:00

Every day at work I get a few spam emails that sneak through the spam filter and into my inbox, and they usually mention Viagra in the subject line. What is it like for employees of Pfizer, Inc. where they make Viagra? I feel sorry for them. You could stand in the middle of hundreds of office cubicles at Pfizer, and all day long, near and far, you'd hear Pfizer employees going "D'oh!" when they open an email and it's not work-related. Those Pfizer employees must be receiving Viagra-spams from the people at Eli Lilly and Company, makers of Cialis.

Certainly

2009-12-02T20:23:00.001-06:00

My mom came to town and she brought her addle-pated friend Mrs. Paulsen. We were downtown and they were looking at the Board of Trade building, an Art Deco skyscraper, when Mrs. Paulsen asked about the figure seen at the top of the building. I told her, as I had just read, that the figure was of the Roman goddess of grain, known as Ceres. "Circe?" Mrs. Paulsen said. "Ceres," I repeated. "Ah, Circe," she said slowly, looking up to the building.

P.G. Wodehouse

2009-11-05T06:10:00.001-06:00

The short story collection Mulliner Nights, by P. G. Wodehouse, includes "The Knightly Quest of Mervyn," in which

Mervyn tells me that he got a good laugh out of a photograph of the girl's late father on the mantelpiece -- a heavily whiskered old gentleman who reminded him of a burst horsehair sofa...

Lush Life, by Richard Price

2009-10-25T17:59:00.001-05:00

In the novel Lush Life (2008), Richard Price depicts a young man from a housing project on New York City's lower east side:

Then one of the other kids, without ever looking at him, began to slowly waddle-walk in his direction, his oversize T and mannered side-to-side gait making him look like a hard-core penguin.

The things from September that I didn't understand

2009-10-04T14:42:00.001-05:00

I had to email a large PDF document to someone in the course of a business transaction. The following day she emailed it back to me without comment. I asked why. She wrote, "I had to clean out my mailbox it was full to capacity!"

A co-worker died unexpectedly, and the memorial gathering at a funeral home was hosted by her brother. I was there talking to a friend and someone entered the room, came straight up to me, and asked "Are you the brother?" The deceased and her family are Asian; I'm not.

I ordered a part direct from a toilet manufacturer; they promised delivery time of five to seven days. On the seventh day I called again, delivery time was now 28 days. I didn't dare call again, at that rate of change. Actual delivery time: 12 days. Lesson: If you plan to use your toilet every day, be aware of how long it takes the manufacturer to FIND ITS OWN PARTS.

Dove chocolate

2009-09-13T19:24:00.001-05:00

Dove Chocolates are good; I eat a little one every day at work. The irritating thing is the profound sayings printed inside each wrapper. Last week one was "Think of every day as a Sunday." I only eat these things at work, so it would be depressing to think of every day I'm working as a weekend day. "Think of every day as a Sunday." OK, now I'm thinking of spending the morning sitting on a hard pew in a church sanctuary. Think of doing that every day. Thanks, Dove!

The candies are less than one square inch, and the bag says one serving would be five pieces, so I prefer to think that I'm only having one-fifth of a serving, which is better for my mental health than pretending the day of the week never changes.

Interior decorating

2009-08-17T20:07:00.000-05:00

"And there was the trio of college students who had each managed to drink thirty ounces of vodka in about as many minutes. After the students had been bundled to the hospital and pumped clean, some rookie paramedics talked about how they had never seen puke on a ceiling before."
-- From the article "The Strange Happiness of the Emergency Medic," by Chris Jones in the August 2009 issue of Esquire.

Rarely available

2009-08-15T18:32:00.003-05:00

So I'm trying to sell my condo, and the day before it goes on the market, the toilet stops working the way it should. I ordered a small part necessary for the repair (the "flapper"), but it'll take a week to get here.

While this is going on, my real estate agent comes by the condo to put out promotional literature and special cards (that look like place setting cards) with handwritten notes to point out special features of the condo to prospective buyers. These cards are preprinted with the name of the real estate agency over the word "Feature" and then there's a space to write a note.

Unfortunately, those cards were the only paper we had available to place a warning on the toilet, so it says "Feature! Toilet not working, parts for repair on order."

Moving tips

2009-07-11T05:54:00.000-05:00

When the movers have their hands full with heavy things, help them keep cool by spraying cool water into their eyes.

The last thing to do when you leave your old apartment is to place a bowl of potato salad on the kitchen counter for the next tenant as a "Welcome!" It's good karma.

When tipping your movers, it's a mark of distinction if the quarters are freshly minted (current year).

Christopher Hitchens on graffiti

2009-07-07T19:53:00.003-05:00

I missed this when it first appeared on slate.com, but found it published in The Best American Magazine Writing 2008: Christopher Hitchens on the subject of bathroom graffiti, inspired by the 2007 "wide stance" incident of Senator Larry Craig.

The graffiti in cottages [British gay slang for public bathrooms] was all part of the fun: On the toilet wall at Paddington Station was written: "I am 9 inches long and two inches thick. Interested?" Underneath, in different handwriting: "Fascinated, dear, but how big is your dick?"

(Link)

Nose Down, Eyes Up by Merrill Markoe

2009-07-03T19:24:00.001-05:00

Gil, who converses with his dogs, has a problem with Dink, the dog who can't remember the difference between "inside" and "outside."

...the other dogs all ran out into the yard. Only Dink stopped and came over to consult with me for a minute.

"Right now: Are we inside or outside?" she asked.

"You're inside," I said.

"Oh, good," she said, as she began to squat and pee.

"NOOO," I said, picking her up and quickly carrying her outside, where I deposited her on the lawn. "Pee outside."

"Right. Right. Got it," she said as she squatted on the grass.

Later:

"Okay. I have one other question about being here," said Dink. "Should I pee in the outside where the trees are or the outside where the stove is?"

"The stove is inside," I sighed.

"Right, right, I knew that," said Dink. "I got confused for a second because I always pee wherever there are rugs."

"Yes, but that is always wrong," I said. "Rugs are inside."

"When did that start?" said Dink.

-- from the novel Nose Down, Eyes Up, by Merrill Markoe

What's his problem?

2009-06-28T10:05:00.000-05:00

I like the flavor of coconut; I have a box of coconut cookies in the pantry right now. Unfortunately, this week they've furnished the office bathroom with coconut-scented hand soap. It took me a moment to identify it, but this is bad news. I get back to my desk and while my mind is occupied with whatever's on the computer screen, one of my hands tends to move up to my nose and I inhale. It smells really good. Now whenever my boss glides silently past my cube, he's apt to find me sniffing my hands.

My magnetism

2009-05-31T12:50:00.000-05:00

First time: I was the first one to board the Greyhound bus for the 90 mile trip. I had about 60 seats to choose from, and I took an aisle seat about five rows back. After a while a second passenger came up the steps into the bus, a nondescript man who had 59 seats to choose from. He chose the one directly in front of me and reclined.

Second time: I rented a huge Ford Explorer SUV to run errands and get some large items at Target. I drove into the Target parking lot on a Sunday morning; the lot was completely empty. I parked about three spaces away from the store. I got out and had opened the SUV's doors on both sides while trying to figure out how to lower the back seat for loading big stuff. A second car drove into the lot and parked next to me, inches from my open doors, when they had 300 spaces available.

Third time: I like to do these things in threes, but I don't have a third one yet, so... kids! Don't do drugs!

Innovations in bundling

2009-04-26T15:43:00.000-05:00

Dear Valued Customer,
Thank you for subscribing to AT&T's award-winning service in home phone, TV, and internet! Your continued satisfaction is of utmost importance to us.

There's an additional way to enhance your AT&T experience. Our research indicates that your last will and testament fail to mention AT&T as a beneficiary. Consider for a moment the advantages of naming AT&T as the inheritor of your real estate and/or personal property:

* AT&T will send a floral arrangement and sympathy card to your funeral or memorial service
* Your immediate biological descendants will be eligible for AT&T e-notices of discounts and special offers
* Your name will be included in the Benefactor List in the first AT&T Annual Report to be published after your demise

Please see the enclosed insert for more details and important legal information!

Trip

2009-04-08T19:17:00.001-05:00

I started watching Jon and Kate Plus Eight on The Learning Channel earlier this year. In various episodes I watched that family travel from Pennsylvania to Hawaii, California, Utah, Tennessee, North Carolina, Florida, and New York, and I realized that any one of those four-year-old kids have accrued more frequent-flyer miles than I'll ever have.

The last time I traveled for a vacation was September 1997: We hadn't heard of Monica Lewinsky yet, Princess Diana had just died, and America was learning to fall in love with a band called Chumbawamba. After that, I fell into a rut.

When I was a kid my family went on vacations all over the place, and in 1974 we visited Washington DC. I decided to go there again by myself. Last week I landed at Reagan airport around 8:30 on a Thursday morning and rode the subway into the city. The commuters all looked just as bored as a trainload of Chicago commuters, in contrast to bug-eyed me, on my first trip in years.

Thirty-five years ago, as we remember it, our family had free, unescorted access to most of the Capitol building. Inside, we had climbed marble steps that were so old they had depressions worn into the areas used most often. In 2009, the Capitol has a newly completed underground Visitor Center with lots of great exhibits, but visitor access to the actual Capitol is limited to a short walking tour and any tourist caught away from supervision is removed by security. This is all understandable.

One of the dozens of exhibits in the Capitol Visitor Center was about Jeannette Rankin of Montana, the first woman elected to Congress. Her first term started in 1917 and she voted against the US joining in World War I. After her first term ended in 1919, she didn't win a second term until 1941, and after the Pearl Harbor attack in December of that year, she was the only member of Congress to vote against the US entering World War II. An exhibit photo shows her after that vote waiting in a phone booth until she could get a police escort to safely get her out of the Capitol. Well, she was consistent.

The best part of the trip was visiting the Newseum, a one-year-old institution devoted to the accomplishments of journalism. In addition to exhibits on all aspects of print and electronic news, the place has several slabs of the Berlin Wall (1961 - 1989) and a twisted lengthy piece of the radio tower that slid down from its position on top of the World Trade Center in 2001. The Berlin Wall presentation included an interesting note on how East Germans used television and radio as a means of "intellectual escape" when the wall prevented them from going west.

Another Newseum exhibit open for this year only covers the FBI's most newsworthy cases. It includes a poem written in Arabic on a legal pad by Saddam Hussein, as a gift to an FBI agent. He had grown to trust (and apparently like) the Arabic-speaking agent who was assigned to establish a rapport and gather information on what Saddam really knew once he was captured.

I also toured the headquarters of National Public Radio. Our little tour group got to see various studios, lots of employee cubicles and computer equipment, and NPR host Scott Simon in a glass-walled room recording an interview (for later broadcast) with a professor speaking from London. Many thanks to Alan the tour guide for his depth of knowledge and restraint in not making a direct solicitation for donations even as NPR had major layoffs in Los Angeles.

The most crowded spots were the Lincoln Memorial and the National Air and Space Museum, so if you ever go there but dislike crowds, you might try those things as early in the day as possible.

On Saturday, April 4 the city had its annual Cherry Blossom Festival parade down Constitution Avenue; it was the peak week for this year's blossoms. While I skipped the parade, I did see some of its participants. I came down to my hotel's lobby at 7:30 that morning, hearing a pronounced clattering sound around the corner. I found a group of children in cherry-blossom-pink sweatshirts, all wearing tap shoes and testing them on the linoleum floor.

Later that day I noticed that the Navy and Army had set up recruiting booths near the parade route but I assumed they did that every Saturday. I couldn't imagine they assembled downtown just once a year to snag the demographic interested in both (1) the peak of the cherry blossom season and (2) serving their country in a military capacity.

Tom Waits on Disneyland

2009-03-23T19:52:00.002-05:00

While cleaning out my closet, I found this magazine with an article that quotes Tom Waits. He had just finished recording something for a CD of songs from Disney movies.

Tom Waits traces his mordant version of "Heigh-Ho (The Dwarves Marching Song)" to a trip to Disneyland with his kids. "It was a living hell. They hit you up for 30 bucks to go in there and the whole thing is like a Ralph Steadman drawing. I spent an hour trying to get out of there, and we were jammed in like lemmings. I think my version of 'Heigh-Ho' came from that.

"Part of exploring these songs now," Waits observes, "it's like, what did they represent to you when you were young, and how did it change? For me, that [original] 'Heigh-Ho' with the whistling and all... the dwarves are going to work in the mines, they don't know who they're working for, it doesn't matter, they just love working... which is like the people who work at Disneyland. 'We don't get much, we wear these little uniforms, but that's okay, we like to work.'

"This is more of what it is really like, with the jackhammers and piledrivers and machinery. So it seems to me like we got something that could almost be a new ride at the park," Waits muses. "The 'Heigh-Ho' ride: They put you in there and chain you to a machine you don't understand and make you work for eight hours straight. And at the end you're paid absolutely nothing. That's the ride."

-- From page 31 of the January 1989 issue of Musician magazine, article by Mark Rowland.

Technology is not that hard to understand

2009-03-16T20:45:00.000-05:00

My friend Joe was working in a bank in the early 1980s when they were introducing Automated Teller Machines. Part of his job was to show inexperienced customers how to use the ATM. He was showing a tiny elderly woman how to withdraw money by first inserting her card, then pushing the buttons, etc., and at the end of the transaction she said, "...and then the man inside the machine pushes the money out the front."

Joe said, "No, actually the machine does that automatically; that's the whole point of having the machine."

"No, I can see the man there inside the machine," she said.

Joe leaned down to the level of the tiny woman and looked where she was pointing, through a horizontal slot in the ATM. He could see a bank employee refilling the machine with new bills. "OK," Joe said, "there's a man there now, but..."

Mission of love accomplished

2009-02-15T14:53:00.001-06:00

It looks like my initiative to raise awareness of Valentine's Day was successful. I hadn't seen enough publicity about the holiday and worked to promote it in all mainstream media and businesses. Everyone but the local funeral home cooperated. (Wait 'til next year!)

My parents have been married 48 years and because of this, my dad has never had to prepare meals or wash clothes. Likewise, my mom has never had to understand investing or the economy as my dad does. I trust that they will never experiment with switching roles because if they did they'd be broke, starving, and naked in about an hour and a half.

At dinner with O, she noted that her grandparents will celebrate their 65th wedding anniversary this year. She lamented the fact that, at her age, if she ever got married she'd have to live until age 102 to have a 65th anniversary. That's too long though; you don't want to be married 65 years. Call it quits at 50 years, and after that party, pull off the ring, claim irreconcilable differences, and hit the singles' bars.

A message to immigrants, perhaps

2009-01-21T21:26:00.001-06:00

"Way I see it is, if English was good enough for Jesus Christ, it's good enough for us."
-- A man in Oklahoma shares his thoughts with Mark Slouka, as recounted in his editorial, Harper's Magazine, Feb. 2009.

Notes to self

2009-01-18T18:27:00.001-06:00

Remember:
Johnette Napolitano - Lead singer of Concrete Blonde
Janet Napolitano - Governor of Arizona and Barack Obama's nominee for secretary of Homeland Security

In the search for a macho bar soap, do not buy any more Irish Spring MoistureBlast with HydroBeads because it smells like bubble gum.

Overheard at the office: "All married couples have problems sooner or later. It's normal. But it's no reason to consider getting all mixed up in an office romance. If every married person cheated on their spouse by sleeping with a co-worker, the whole US economy would go down the tubes... Wait."

Worst use of an exclamation point

2008-12-09T19:52:00.001-06:00

"View your electric bill online!" -- Seen on the back of an envelope from Com Ed.

Minutes of lost productivity

2008-12-08T20:22:00.000-06:00

After overhearing this at work I froze at my desk and my eyes lost their focus for a full minute: "I haven't shaved my legs in so long they look like Christmas trees!"

Dear Mister Answer Man

2008-12-07T20:20:00.000-06:00

Dear Mister Answer Man,
I was sweeping and mopping my floors this weekend. On the stereo at the time I was playing music from James Bond movies. Somehow this seemed inappropriate and I felt foolish doing household chores with this soundtrack. Is this a normal feeling to have?
Jerry in Lombard

Dear Jerry,
Your discomfort is understandable. The process may work better if you picture silhouettes of naked women doing gymnastics in slow motion while wielding brooms and mops.

Hot and sweaty but only along my right side

2008-11-30T20:23:00.001-06:00

1985 - I got custody of Grandpa's car when he lost the ability to drive. It was a 1974 Buick, a huge rectangle of a car, light blue.

I was night manager of a business that was open until 9 pm, so I had to lock up after the employees were all signed out for the night. We worked one night in December that was unusually cold, and after I locked the offices and got out to the snowy parking lot, there were only two cars remaining, mine and the one Nicole and Nell came in. Their car wouldn't start and I lacked jumper cables.

Nicole and Nell were a matched pair as far as their weights, around 240 pounds apiece. When they asked for a ride home, it was not a tough question because the Buick could easily carry all of us and a couple more, if needed. Nicole and Nell were right there beside me, purses in hand, when we found that my car's back doors were frozen shut on both sides.

My eyes shifted from them to the front seat as I made some mental calculations of what would be feasible, and they started to laugh. Both front doors still worked and the three of us got in on the front seat. I was built like a blade of grass and found that if I reached to the right, I still could get both hands on the steering wheel. They lived on the west side so it was a lengthy ride across town and we could not stop laughing.

Remembering anecdotes of the worst incidents involving the local cops, we could've been pulled over by an officer curious to know what a skinny white boy was doing with two full-figured African-American women in such high spirits, and why they felt the need to share the front seat with me in a massive sedan on the rough side of town long after dark. No problem, and I had forgotten about it for years until I started remembering cars I used to have.

And that's why Chicago is known as the City of Decorum

2008-11-10T15:44:00.002-06:00

The sign on the CTA bus yesterday had many of the usual prohibitions, plus one that caught my eye:

NO SMOKING
NO OPEN FOOD OR DRINK
NO RADIOS
NO WEAPONS

All the rules are illustrated with a little symbol covered by a red diagonal line. The "NO WEAPONS" rule has a handgun covered by the red slash.

So here's the scenario imagined by the Chicago Transit Authority: A citizen is about to get on the bus when he sees the sign, a friendly reminder. Suddenly he remembers he's carrying a Luger. Sensitive to the potential embarrassment of discovery, the citizen discreetly retreats and returns home to put his gun safely away before going out.

Think Muppetly, act locally

2008-09-16T20:54:00.000-05:00

It was his sixth birthday and he was getting a party with a Muppet theme, per his wishes. He had one additional request.

"I don't think we should eat meat at my birthday party."

"Why, are you a vegetarian?"

"No, but the Muppets are animals."

Chicken was served. (It was good enough for the Swedish chef.)

Favorite train encounters, summer '08

2008-09-08T20:59:00.000-05:00

1. I saw my favorite Chicago online diarist, Mimi Smartypants, and her redoubtable four-year-old daughter Nora standing in my usual spot on the platform waiting for the same train as me. I had never met Mimi although I've read her site every week for at least five years. I discreetly did a double-take, only three times, and didn't approach them. Not a fan of the awkward. When the train came, I took a different car than theirs so I wouldn't be tempted to spy. Then, remembering all the entertaining posts Mimi has written about Nora, I imagined them performing a song-and-dance number to unanimous acclaim in the aisle of their train car, something like "Me and My Shadow," with straw hats and canes, Nora's accessories in the tiny kid size.

2. The little girl standing right next to me in the train was crying as she talked to her parents on her cell phone; she looked like Abigail Breslin in Little Miss Sunshine. She had gotten on the wrong train and was surrounded by people twice her height, not knowing where she was going. She shut her tears off and got advice from her parents on how to get on the correct train and hung up. I asked if she needed any help but she was OK, just waiting for the train to stop so she could get on one going south. I said I had made the same mistake last year (true) and it was really embarrassing. She nodded along with my story and we had nothing else to say; then she got off and immediately disappeared in a crowd of grownups. I had never imagined that a mundane trainload of tired commuters could look so alien and menacing to a kid.

3. I've had enough of people seeking attention on the train just for the sake of attention (Link). So when a guy on the train last Memorial Day started moaning, I first looked to see if he was ill. He appeared healthy, about 20 years old, and was listening to a radio with earphones. He was moaning tunelessly, fairly loud, with the music. In the past I've ignored this kind of thing but this time I faced him and stared into the side of his head. He turned to me and explained that he was singing "God Bless America" along with the radio station; it was playing the song for the holiday. I smiled and nodded, not knowing whether the guy was serious. He appeared embarrassed and got off at the next stop. Did I ruin a patriotic holiday for a young citizen? Or did he get the attention he wanted? I still don't know.

Back to you, Walter

2008-09-01T15:10:00.001-05:00

It's September 1964 and on the CBS Evening News, Walter Cronkite introduces a story by Roger Mudd, reporting from Ohio where Barry Goldwater is running as the Republican nominee for president. Due to a lack of preparation time, Mudd has to go on the air live with technical assistance from the local phone company.

Roger recalls that he had started his report: "...but the audience did not hear me say that, because Ohio Bell had patched me not into New York but into a local radio station, which happened to be playing an old Kay Kyser tune, "Three Little Fishies." What the audience heard when my mouth began to move was:

Boop boop dit-tem dat-tem what-tem Chu!
Boop boop dit-tem dat-tem what-tem Chu!
And they swam and they swam all over the dam.

It may be funny now, but back then nobody laughed. We swore and swore and kept swearing."

-- From the memoir The Place to Be, by Roger Mudd.

What they did before snapshots

2008-08-24T16:43:00.001-05:00

"His widow embalmed his severed head and stored it in a velvet bag, as a keepsake." -- A description of what happened after King James beheaded Sir Walter Raleigh for treason in 1618, from the book A Voyage Long and Strange, by Tony Horwitz.

Be reverent

2008-08-05T19:10:00.001-05:00

At the movies I never talk during the main feature, or even during the previews. I want to see coming attractions and besides, they're the loudest things I've ever heard and it would be pointless to try to talk over them. At the Century theaters, however, they've started running advertising before the previews; commercials for Coca-Cola or promotions for TV shows with girls in the Britney-Lindsay-Miley tradition.

K and I were sitting in the theater Friday afternoon while the commercials were playing, waiting for the previews to start. She and I were catching up on news and from a distance a voice bellowed, "Give us a break!" An elderly man had yelled from about ten seats away. He and his wife (call them John and Mary) were the only other people in the theater.

I said "Pardon?" and John complained that we were talking too loud and therefore, give him a break. K spoke up and said we'd stop talking when the commercials were over, and John said, "I'm watching the commercials; I can't hear them because you're talking so loud!"

This was something I hadn't considered. K and I lowered our voices while the same old ads played for ice-cold beverages and underage girls, but think about what life must have been like for John and Mary through fifty years of wedded bliss:

At their children's school play

Mary: There's Billy in the second row! You can really hear his voice out of all the kids in the chorus!
John: Give me a break! How can I read the sponsors listed in the program with your yammering!

At their first NASCAR race

Mary: This is amazing! Did you see how those cars were inches apart coming around this curve?
John: Budweiser, Gillette, Give me a break woman, Minute Maid, Craftsman...

Driving through Wyoming

Mary: John, look, I can see Grand Teton National Park from here!
John: Give me a break, I'm trying to read the billboards! You're spoiling my concentration!

Summer romance

2008-07-13T20:54:00.001-05:00

I tried to understand the thinking of those five or six housewives, coming in every week like that. I was working a summer job in a public library on the south side of town near all the factories, back when the manufacturing economy still existed there.

A lady would walk in hugging a full brown paper grocery bag to her chest, and she'd set the bag on the book checkout counter. She'd reach in and take out a few books at a time until there were between 20 and 30 books returned.

All the books were old paperback Harlequin romances. All about 150 to 200 pages, usually with cover art in soft pastel colors. The cover illustrations were painted in the late 1960s to early 1970s and showed a close-up of a woman's face, looking thoughtful, as behind her stood a square-jawed, broad-shouldered man looking in her direction.

Those few women who borrowed sackfuls of romances each week were responsible for a large share of our library's circulation, and we employees recognized that, but what was so attractive about those little novels? I tried to find out by flipping through the pages looking for the good parts and the endings. There were a lot of references to tingling, special feelings, and a lifetime of security ahead for the lead female character.

I never did understand the women's need for repetition and predictability all summer long, but it was easy to imagine a lack of romance for those families bound to the factory life, blah blah blah. I could be wrong.

Twentysome years later I rented the movie Before Sunset with Julie Delpy and Ethan Hawke. It was the sequel to Before Sunrise, which was good. During Before Sunset, I inched closer to the TV until I was within arms' reach by the end. I watched the whole thing a second time 24 hours later. On the third day I watched a key scene, set in a taxi, for the third time. On the fourth day I located the screenplay online, just in case I wanted to read it sometime. On the fifth day I found the soundtrack CD in a local store and bought it.

Yes, Before Sunset is a romance, but I'm not the same as those housewives back in my hometown. This is different. It just is. Shut up.

No more tears

2008-06-29T13:55:00.000-05:00

As a child, I observed adults in person and on TV. Many grownup men wore neckties. This influenced my expectations of what I would wear when I grew up, and sure enough, I wore ties when I started working full time. No big deal. In fact, the only reason I have any success in the workplace is because I wear a tie. That's what Mother always says.

But there is a new breed of male coming to the office, and for them the most punishing aspect of the workday is to wear that tie. I don't know what adults they saw while growing up, but the neckwear requirement was an unwelcome shock upon starting the day job. You, reader, may be one of those very people, young or old, who feel oppressed by this kind of dress code. If so, Mister, don't tie it so tight.

Answered: the riddle of the ages

2008-05-19T19:46:00.000-05:00

After talking to a young woman who had stopped by my desk, I felt a bit flushed. I felt my ears. One of them was very hot! The other was not. So am I hot or not? My left side is hot; my right side is not.

Attention southbound riders

2008-04-22T20:50:00.000-05:00

For once, I could understand the words broadcast out of the public address system on the Belmont Avenue train platform. The Chicago Transit Authority employee was announcing what was already in the news: During renovation of the southbound platform, only one of the two southbound tracks would have trains.

The woman on the intercom, using her harshest, most patronizing tone of voice, reiterated that while the "outside" (or west) track would have trains running, the "inside" (or east) track would NOT have trains running during this period of renovation.

Still, I was surprised to hear the message at all, because the inside track had construction workers walking up and down the track doing construction-worky things, so I wouldn't expect trains to come along and send them all diving thirty feet to the street.

One other thing; the side of the platform that faced the inside track had this new temporary wooden fence, four feet high, blocking access to the inside track. If a magic train had come down the inside track sending construction workers flying, no riders could board it unless they vaulted the fence where the magic train's doors would open. This would cause a delay, which is something the CTA just doesn't tolerate.

Top ten over-the-counter medications OR Star Trek aliens

2008-03-03T19:57:00.000-06:00

1. NasalCrom
2. Droxine
3. Sar 6
4. Chlor-Trimeton
5. Krodak
6. Aveeno
7. Marplon
8. Chondroitin
9. Natira
10. Zantac

Traveling head of state

2008-02-21T19:47:00.001-06:00

President Bush toured Liberia today, honored to visit a country founded on the principle that every man (and woman and child) has the right to borrow a book, read it, and then return it so that others can do the same.

This can't be good

2008-01-10T20:16:00.000-06:00

You know how when you're taking care of undisciplined children and they're making all kinds of mischief and then the phone rings or you get distracted, and after a while, suddenly you notice that it's too quiet and you get an awful feeling because you don't know where the kids are or what they're doing? That's how I feel since I realized that Dick Cheney hasn't been in the news in months.

Rapture, be pure

2008-01-08T21:50:00.000-06:00

I'm looking for a class that teaches how to use plastic wrap to keep food fresh. I've tried Saran Wrap, Glad Wrap, and various other kinds of "cling wrap" but they stick together too much.

I pull about a square foot of plastic off the roll and it already folds on itself at the edges. I rip the wrap along the cutting edge and it stretches out, then breaks free and implodes into a shiny crinkly ball which is not helpful.

Using more plastic just makes it worse; it sticks to the length of my arm and the cats walk into the kitchen to get a good vantage point in the event that I accidentally suffocate myself.

If anyone can direct me to a class that meets nights or weekends, I'd be happy to take it (pass/fail).

Transition

2007-12-31T19:20:00.000-06:00

As we move from an odd-numbered to an even-numbered year, please be aware of the corresponding changes.

Good for you in 2007, bad in 2008:

Butter

Carbohydrates

Eight glasses of water per day

Galoshes

Touch-screen voting machines

Trilobites

Doris Roberts

Bad for you in 2007, good in 2008:

Margarine

Sodium

Singing in rounds

Going outdoors bare-headed

Twister, the Milton-Bradley Game That Ties You Up in Knots

Pleasureville, Kentucky

Hello, ladies

2007-12-03T19:38:00.000-06:00

The good news is that there's a new automatic air freshener attached to the wall of the bathroom at the office. The bad news is that it was installed at the same height as my head, near the sink. Once every so often, without warning, it squirts an orange-scented puff of spray. More and more, the right side of my head is smelling like citrus.

Mine have always gotten along fine

2007-11-25T15:52:00.001-06:00

Heard at the office: "She got plastic surgery... breast argumentation."

U.S. Foreign Policy, 2003 -

2007-11-10T14:55:00.000-06:00

We're gonna do it
Give us any chance we'll take it
Read us any rule, we'll break it
We're gonna make our dreams come true
Doin' it our way

Nothing's gonna turn us back now
Straight ahead and on the track now
We're gonna make our dreams come true
Doin' it our way

There's nothing we won't try
Never heard the word "impossible"
This time there's no stoppin' us.
We're gonna do it

On your mark get set and go now
Got a dream and we just know now
We're gonna make that dream come true

And we'll do it our way, yes, our way
Make all our dreams come true
And we'll do it our way, yes, our way
Make all our dreams come true
For me and you

The I Won't Share a Seat on This Train finals

2007-11-04T18:09:00.000-06:00

Finalist 1 - Zach Trevor, Lincoln Park
Approaches the seat in a crouch, medium speed, smoothly turns, butt hits the seat at the same moment as his backpack hits the adjacent seat. Knees spread, legs open to 90 degree angle. Score: 7.0.

Finalist 2 - Josh Platty, Logan Square
Strolls down aisle, worldly weary, pauses, still pausing, resumes motion, moves sideways to stand over seat, eases down slowly to center position with one butt cheek on each seat "cushion." Knees spread, legs open to 105 degree angle. Score: 8.8.

Finalist 3 - James Kelpson, Pacific Garden Mission
Limps onto train car, walks away down the aisle, businesslike demeanor, stands in the aisle between two pair of empty seats, reaches down to right hip, detaches prosthetic right leg, places it in rightmost seat to the right of the aisle, moves to sit in the leftmost seat to the left of the aisle. Knees spread across four seats and the aisle. Score: 10.0.

Moment of silence is golden

2007-10-14T16:19:00.000-05:00

Last Friday's news:

SPRINGFIELD — Sparking a debate over school prayer, Illinois lawmakers voted Thursday to require students to observe a moment of silence at the beginning of each school day.

By a 74-37 vote, the House set aside Gov. Blagojevich’s veto of the legislation, which he and others said promoted prayer in public schools.

“It may not mandate prayer, but that’s what it’s about,” said Rep. Lou Lang (D-Skokie), who voted against the plan.

But supporters of the legislation, backed by Concerned Christian Americans and the Illinois Family Institute, said it would help young people come to terms with the everyday stresses in their lives.

“Our children deserve . . . a moment of silence,” said Rep. Monique Davis (D-Chicago). She said it would enable students to “listen to the rustling of leaves, to listen to the chirping of a bird, to listen to the tip-tap of a kid walking.

“Maybe we don’t have that to give. Maybe we love having this rushed, exciting world in which they live that helps to create the violence.”

Rep. Will Davis (D-Homewood), the bill’s chief sponsor, denied he was promoting school prayer but instead said a moment of silence possibly could avert tragedies like the recent school shooting in Cleveland, where a troubled 14-year-old shot two students and two teachers before killing himself.

“Just think if that student had an opportunity maybe to sit and reflect,” Davis said.

-- Chicago Sun-Times, October 12, 2007.

News of the Future, one year from now:

When Illinois lawmakers mandated in 2007 that a moment of silence be observed at the start of every school day, few people predicted the magnitude of positive changes that would result.

"Before the moment of silence, I used to smoke crack all day behind the Dumpsters because school was the best place to buy it," said Flookie Williams, a senior at Fillmore High. "After a year of listening to birdsong for one minute every day, I have renounced illicit drugs and acquired a new outlook on life." Williams, his counselor noted, used to communicate solely through American Gang Sign Language, but has since become proficient in English at a college level of understanding.

"I used the moment of silence to exchange text messages with my study buddies," Wendy Thames chimed in. Thames, also a Fillmore student, said that by using the moment of reflection with classmates to quiz each other on trigonometry concepts, she raised her grade in Math from a C to an A.

Heartening as these anecdotes may be, many teachers and parents say the greatest benefit from the moment of silence was the resulting elimination of violent behavior in schools statewide. Said Governor Blagojevich Monday, "I am proud to have pushed this legislation through, for all the lives it has saved."

Observers of Illinois politics expect easy passage of a proposed bill to expand the "moment" of silence to an "interval."

1981

2007-10-02T20:34:00.001-05:00

"This is to get a new professor, pass it on," whispered the girl. She passed the clipboard to the girl next to her in Introduction to Physics. Eventually the clipboard made it to my row and I saw it was a petition, stating that we needed a new teacher because the one we were listening to in that huge classroom was difficult to understand.

This was true for a few reasons. The woman brought in to teach Physics was a replacement who started in the second week of class when the original professor had to go on leave for the rest of the term. Our substitute knew English as a second language and seemed to be leaving out vital parts of the lessons, leaving many of us looking at each other going, "What?"

I didn't sign the petition because I had an idea of what would happen, and it did: The signatures and statement were sent to the head of the department, who promptly showed it to our teacher. She seemed nonplussed and told us so. She taught the rest of the term and things never did lighten up or get clearer.

(Memory jogged by Oh That Annie. (Link))

Giant duck

2007-09-23T17:10:00.001-05:00

Walking out of the grocery store, I saw something and my brain's first response was "Giant duck!" It was only an obese woman whose most prominent clothing was an oversize white golf shirt and orange Crocs.

Will

2007-09-09T20:34:00.001-05:00

The air conditioning has kept the office so cold I started drinking hot tea and warming my fingers around the mug. I held my hand over the hot mug and figured that's about as close as I'll get to feeling like G. Gordon Liddy, who proved his manhood to his own satisfaction by holding his hand over an open flame until it burned. "The trick is not minding," Liddy said (or waiting until the tea cools a little, in my case).