In the frozen isle

Many people will say, "Oh I could live there!" when talking about some remote outpost on a barren desert or an ice floe somewhere cold. 

And maybe they could, but would they be happy enough to stay? The reason I say, here's a job opportunity for that person you know who says they are tired of the heat and the crowds around here.

It's a position at a post office in Antarctica. Duties include sorting mail, selling stamps, "and other duties as assigned," as job spec sheets always says (that's a sneaky way to avoid telling you that you have to empty the trashcans). Oh! Almost forgot. One of those other duties is counting penguins.

This is the post office at Port Lockroy, which is a popular tourist spot off the west side of Antarctica. Goudier Island, they call it, and 18,000 tourists throng the place every tourist season, which is about how many people are in any pool in Cancún, México at any time, but they lack penguins in México.

Port Lockroy is a British Antarctic territory.  "Base A", where the post office is, was set up in 1944 as a research station. I don't know if they still do much research down there, but they do have the UK Antarctic Heritage Trust running a museum and gift shop. The money they make from the gift shop goes toward renovations of other historic sites in Antarctica.

Now, about that penguin counting...the people at the UKAHT are studying how much impact tourists have on the penguin population, so someone has to get out there and count the number of penguins — and penguin chicks — on the island. With the results of the impact study in hand, officials can determine just how many visitors to allow on the island while striving to "to ensure the environment is properly cared for," according to the territory's website.

Sound good? Well, here's the scoop. Pack your woolies, because it gets down to minus 23° F there, not to mention the wind chill. So we won't.

All the staffers share one bedroom with no flushing toilet, just a camp toilet that, one supposes, the new guy or girl has to empty daily.

Running water? There is none. Sometimes a visiting ship will allow staffers to climb aboard for a shower, but you might wait two weeks between showers.

There are no cell phones or internet access, so there is very little communication with home. Some might see this as a bonus; I don't know.

And don't get sick; it might take up to a week to get you to a hospital.

 "Antarctica is a physically and mentally challenging place to work," advises the information available to job seekers. 

I think I'd rather be the towel boy in Cancún.

Memorial Day 2022

Wishing you a thoughtful Memorial Day. Remember, today is for those lost in service. 

Sunday Rerun: Thank God he didn't have bone spurs

(Note: this is a Sunday rerun, and today just happens to be the 105th birthday of the man we're writing about!)

 Maybe I should have been a history teacher! I keep finding stories that I feel like sharing.

We talked about Richard Nixon the other day, a US Navy lawyer during World War II. He served as vice president under Dwight Eisenhower, the man who led the D-Day invasion that turned the tide of the war. After serving as president of Columbia University, "Ike" became the president of the US. Little is known of Nixon following his two terms as vice president. Rumor has it that he served a term and a half as president, but it's hard to find verification on that.

Lt. John F. Kennedy

Eisenhower was a true war hero, and I'm sure Nixon's service as a lawyer was appreciated. Fifteen years after the war ended, Nixon ran for president (for the first time) against John F. Kennedy, a war hero on a much smaller scale, but a hero nonetheless, so much so that he was elected president and was the subject of a hit record by sausage king Jimmy Dean.

The record, "P.T. 109" documented Kennedy's valiant service about a patrol torpedo boat in the South Pacific war. The "109" was rammed and split in half by a Japanese destroyer off the Solomon Islands in August 1943. Kennedy, the skipper of the boat, was 25 years of age, and went to heroic measures to save his crew. There was a sailor who was badly injured, and Kennedy had him hold onto a rope, then towed the man three-and-a-half miles through dark ocean waters, to the safety of an island while holding his end of the rope IN HIS TEETH! Kennedy was injured in that battle, and for the rest of his life dealt with back problems. He became famous for using a rocking chair at his desk in the White House to ease the strain.

The "109" is lost forever, but remains of the vessel Kennedy commanded next have recently been found! JFK next served aboard the "PT 59," and in that capacity, torpedoed Japanese barges and rescued ten stranded Marines.

PT-59 during World War II

After the war, the Navy sold the "59." It was used as a fishing vessel/charter boat, eventually falling into the hands of Redmond Burke, who bought it for $1,000 and used it as a houseboat. Realizing the significance of the boat, he attempted to sell it to Kennedy memorializers, but, finding no takers, he let it sink to the bottom of the Harlem River in the 1970s.
Now, the Metropolitan Transportation Authority (MTA)  of New York is trying to prevent a recurrence of the flooding they experienced from Superstorm Sandy in 2012, so they are building a seawall along the riverfront near the 207th Street train yard. They have recovered a hatch door frame, a rudder and a  generator from the "59," and the MTA is working with museums, such as the John F. Kennedy Presidential Library and Museum in Boston, and the Battleship Cove maritime museum in Fall River, Massachusetts, to see about displaying the relics.

It's wonderful when history comes back to us. Mr Kennedy, rest in peace, sir.

The Saturday Picture Show, May 28, 2022

 

This is from that great "Macanudo" comic strip that I wish the Baltimore SUN would carry, but I know there would be a furious outcry from "Luann" and "BC" fans if they cut those thoroughly relevant strips to make room for it.

We've never had good luck with houseplants that need a) water or b) sunshine. We always gave too much or too little of both. Pictures of houseplants, though, thrive nicely here.

The great cast of "We Own This City," led by Jon Bernthal as the despicable Baltimore PD Sgt. Wayne Jenkins, are doing a great job telling the stories of these men who killed and robbed their way into infamy.  Given guns and badges and the authority to arrest lawbreakers, these men became lawbreakers themselves and did incalculable damage to police-community relations in the city of Baltimore. Jenkins will be back in town in 2038 after he does a 25-year term in federal prison. 

This reminds me of the people who wanted a certain job or house or car or mate and then did nothing but complain about that job, house, car or mate. Remember, it isn't what you want that counts, it's what you get and what you do about it.

Pretty old mill house, isn't it? I think we should name it after Richard Nixon.

The architect behind whatever this is really did his or her bit nicely.  You know the drill.

This is it! The last remaining pay phones in New York City are gone. If you need to make a call and don't have a cell phone, just offer a passing stranger a quarter and ask to use his.

The latest thing for this summer's Baltimore fashion scene is this shirt showing Mr Trash Wheel, the giant aquatic vacuum cleaner for the Inner Harbor, in action.

Mitt Romney would remind us that "Corporations are people too, my friend." That's why they wouldn't dream of price-gouging.

Have a great Memorial Weekend and keep your ducks in a row!

Friday thoughts...

What I can't understand, among many other things, is this fascination with Johnny Depp and Amber Hoozit.  Americans of all social strata are devouring every word and image they can find about the squabble between those two actors. It makes no sense to me, but I do understand what some people say about it being easier to focus on those two individuals than on the Russian invasion, the price of everything, the scarcity of infant formula, the possibility that we could all be exposed to monkey pox...I get it.

Reality is tough, and that's why a great many people enjoy fiction - or nonfiction that seems like fiction, such as this courtroom drama that has so many enchanted. I always quote from Alan Alda, who said he didn't like fiction because "you can tell, they're just making it up as they go."

In a world where there are so many FACTS to learn and enjoy sharing, why spend time on non-facts? Facts such as, "Man is the only animal that laughs, and has a state legislature."  

It's true, so true.

It's also fun to have a fact that you want to share but you have to wait until the right time. For instance, you don't just want to walk around telling people, "You know that word 'dour' that we see used to denote someone who's always gruff and stern? Well, it's not pronounced 'dower' to rhyme with sour or tower. It's a homophone for 'door.' So just say, 'Mitch McConnell always seems very dour' and say it the same as the 'door' you'd like to close on Mitch's mean face."

Dour.

This all came to mind because Patti LuPone and Stephen Colbert were trying to figure out how to say the word the other night on Colbert's show. Neither seemed to know. So now, if you meet Patti LuPone, you will have something to use as a conversation starter.

You could go on to tell her that the word comes down to us from the Latin "durus," meaning hard. I mean, you could, but by then her security people will be whisking you away...

And you could tell the guards that we got the word "whisk" from the Norse word "visk," meaning a "wisp of hay, something to sweep with," but they, likely as not, will not be interested. 

Some things, we keep to ourselves.

A Night of Golden Memories Awaits

So! Here it is, almost Memorial Day, and if you haven't firmed up your vacation plans for this summer, it's getting to be too late to even think about it.  All the best voyages to the Gilligan Islands are booked, and the kids aren't really interested in going to see that giant Ark in Kentucky because they found out what a "cubit" really is, and they realize that man and dinosaurs did not coexist.

Where to go? How about this novel idea...and you'd better hop on it right away, because they're getting a ton of calls about it. It's the motel room in Indiana where disgraced prison official Deputy Vicky White and her loverboy Goliath Casey White shacked up for a hot spell! And as of right this minute, there is already a waiting list of some 50 people seeking reservations for room 150 at the fabulous 41 Motel in Evansville, Indiana.

You must remember Vic 'n' Casey White. Although not related, their two-year relationship entitled them to an unofficial official jailhouse marriage, with all rights, privileges and benefits appertaining thereto. She helped spring him from the Ironbar Hilton and a romance for the ages was born.

And of course, they were going to get one of those cute couple joint Facebook pages, most likely under the name VicNCaseyWhites.

A receptionist at the motel says people are calling left and right day and night trying to book that room. Who knows, maybe they'll they'll cosplay the couple. The man will have to walk around on stilts and the woman will dye her hair with the use of a quart of hydrogen peroxide.

I'm glad that no grassroots movement has started up to make these two into heroes. Casey, now that he is back in the hoosegow, stands charged with two counts of capital murder from a 2020 stabbing, and that's on top of charges for a  2015 home invasion, carjacking and police chase. Vicky committed suicide with one of the pistols they were carrying to their unsanctified congress after giving up a 17-year police career to be with the thug she loved. 

But back in the 1930s, when public enemies such as John Dillinger, Baby Face Nelson, Ma Barker, and Pretty Boy Floyd were shooting their way across the nation,  Americans in the midst of a horrible Depression actually found those people to be folk heroes, fantasizing that they were actually Robin Hoods who stole from the rich to give to the poor.

They were just robbin' hoods, and these two Whites were no better.

Why not round up the person you love and spend a rapturous day (and night!) in this beautifully appointed hostelry? Imagine the thrill of using the same TV remote that Casey used as he thumbed through the true crime channels.

 

We're so sorry, Uncle Albert

Everything went wrong last Saturday for Paul McCartney fans in Winston-Salem, North Carolina. The former Beatle, currently on tour in America, had a concert at Truist Field, but an afternoon thunderstorm combined with a traffic crush to leave many fans disappointed. They even delayed starting the show an hour, and still, not everyone could get there.

"My wife and I sat in it for more than three hours trying to get to tonight’s Paul McCartney concert. WSPD (Winston-Salem Police Department) and event staff dropped the ball and could not get all patrons parked prior to a delayed show beginning. Furthermore, they didn’t have enough general parking available for all concert goers," TJ Lockwood wrote to WXII TV news.

Another fan voiced the same kind of problems: "We waited for 3 hours for parking for the Paul McCartney concert in gridlocked traffic. Finally, (we) had to just drive home. The mismanagement of this event is appalling. We passed by several empty lots as we were funneled around. I can't believe I paid over $1,000 for tickets and missed it," said Katelyn Henderson.

The Stanfords, Jim and Linda Stanford, drove over from Raleigh area in hopes of hearing "Uncle Albert/Admiral Halsey," but they wound up stuck at a traffic light  at Indiana Ave and Patterson Ave. 15 times, they saw the light go from red to green without anyone moving anywhere.

So Jim talked to Winston-Salem police, only to be told that "the city doesn't have the infrastructure to handle events of this size."

Oooopsie.

Truist Field. home of the Charlotte Knights minor league baseball team, has a seating capacity of 10,200. Presuming that the McCartney event was sold out, it's a shame that many of those seats sat empty as the old moptop went through his song catalog.

So, on Saturday as the show began,  Winston-Salem police issued this statement: 

The Winston-Salem Police Department is aware of the increased traffic in and around Truist Field (475 Deacon Bv) due to the Paul McCartney concert. Wake Forest University issued a press release earlier this week with information about the concert, to include increased traffic. Additionally, a thunderstorm came through the area, which caused delays in parking vehicles.

Winston-Salem Police Department Officers will remain on scene and continue to address traffic issues throughout the duration of the concert.

So, the stance of the police department was, you should have paid heed to the press release from Wake Forest University, and it shouldn't have rained.

And they said, go ask the college about the traffic. The college said, 

Saturday's Sir Paul McCartney Concert at Truist Field was a historic event for the Winston-Salem community and we appreciate the patience of the record-breaking crowd in the aftermath of a thunderstorm that caused some disruption in traffic patterns and the parking process.

OK, first of all, you're Americans, and do not need to call him "Sir." I mean, really.

And I'm only sharing this as a caveat to those who are attending the McCartney concert at Baltimore's Oriole Park on Sunday evening, June 12. You might want to get down to the ballpark early, stroll on over to the Harbor for some dinner, and come back over for the show. 

We went to see Garrison Keillor at the Meyerhoff Symphony Hall years ago, and there was some sort of traffic snafu, and many people were sad because they got there at intermission time. 

Don't miss out! Maybe leave Saturday afternoon, get a hotel room, live it up. Strawberry Fields Forever.

Well-Deserved

It was just two years ago this month when an officious New York City woman named Amy Cooper (not to be confused with Amy Farrah Fowler Cooper of The Big Bang Theory) made a big bang of notoriety for herself in Central Park by calling 911 to report a Black man on a charge of Being A Black Man.

Ms Cooper was dropping that dime on Christian Cooper, an inveterate bird watcher who happens to be Black. With nary a scintilla of evidence, she told 911 that "I'm in the Ramble. And there is a man, African American — he has a bicycle helmet. He's recording me and threatening me and my dog."

Mr Cooper was recording her throwing her hissy fit, all right. Neither he nor his dog did anything to Ms Cooper, who was charged with a third-degree misdemeanor for making a false report. The Manhattan District Attorney's Office says it dropped the charge after Amy Cooper completed five restorative justice sessions, which I guess is what we here on Earth call "Community Service." 

Ms Cooper has now descended back into the sea of anonymity, while Mr Cooper has a new show set to air on National Geographic. Viewers will go along with him into the "wild, wonderful and unpredictable world of birds," according to National Geographic, in a series called "Extraordinary Birder."

"Whether braving stormy seas in Alaska for puffins, trekking into rainforests in Puerto Rico for parrots, or scaling a bridge in Manhattan for a peregrine falcon, he does whatever it takes to learn about these extraordinary feathered creatures and show us the remarkable world in the sky above," the network said in a statement about the show, which has no announced premiere date yet.

Mr Cooper told the New York Times he's been into bird-watching since the age of 10, and says he "was all in" when National Geographic came to him some time ago to see if he would like to do a TV show. "I love spreading the gospel of birding," he told the Times.

Meanwhile, Amy Cooper is waiting for a call from the people at ABC - the Annoying Busybody Channel - about hosting a show where she and her dog make more false calls. 

Pub Mix

When we see the word "vogue," we usually think it's a typo, and the writer meant to say "vague." There is a lot of vagueness all up in here nowadays.

Or you might think of Madonna, who used to be popular. 32 years ago she had a hit song called "Vogue," in which people are advised to strike a pose and wait for people to notice them. 

Maybe "Vogue" reminds you of a woman's fashion magazine published by Condé Nast, in which a woman named Anna Wintour rules with a mighty hand over the Kingdom of Fashion and tells people what it's ok to wear. I recently sent an anniversary card to a polo shirt I bought in the waning days of the Bill Clinton presidency. It's khaki in color, and I wear it whenever the odds favor me getting some sort of goop  - spaghetti sauce, creamed spinach, butterscotch ice cream topping - all down the front of me, because every stain comes out of this shirt with just a pre-wash squirt of blue Dawn dish detergent and a little marinating. I feel certain that even if I put the shirt out in the Goodwill pickup bag, the next day I would find it hanging on the front lamppost, all neatly laundered, ironed, and hanging on a hanger.

Or you might know about a little village in England named Vogue, but the chances are slim, unless you're from in the southwestern county named Cornwall. 4,500 people live in Vogue; it's the kind of town that used to be in the movies. Everyone knows everyone!

A man by the name of Mark Graham happens to own a pub there; it's called The Star Inn at Vogue. Not long ago he got a letter from Condé Nast that I suppose was meant to instill fear in him, but it didn't, since he had no idea who or what "Condé Nast" is.

The letter began: 

“Dear Sirs, 

Our company is the proprietor of the Vogue mark, not only for its world-famous magazine first published in November 1916 but in respect of other goods and services offered to the public by our company.”

An adz (woodworking tool)

So you get the deal. The letter broadly hinted that people who don't know their adz from their elbow might think this Cornish neighborhood watering hole has some connection to a snooty fashion rag, and states that Graham should consider changing his bar’s name “to avoid problems arising.”

“My first reaction is that my customers were having a laugh,” Graham told The Washington Post.

But then Mr Graham Googled Condé Nast and saw that these purveyors of silly pictures of silly people wearing tarpaulins were a BFD - a big financial deal - that took in $2 billion last year because P.T. Barnum was right about how often suckers are born. That made Graham realize, “They were absolutely serious.”

Graham and his wife Rachel live above the pub; it's literally the nexus of their lives and has been for 17 years. Locals come for the ale and pie and stay for club meetings or to talk about football or knitting or whatever. It's a popular place among people who haven't the slightest idea what some American magazine thinks of their clothing. 

For two weeks, everyone talked about this apparent shakedown, and then Graham wrote his reply:

“Whilst I found your letter interesting on the one hand I also found it hilariously funny on the other. If a member of your staff had taken the time to investigate they would have discovered that our company, the Star Inn, is in the small village of Vogue, near St. Day in Cornwall.”

He went on the tell the magazine people that the word "Vogue" has been in use for hundreds of years in the Cornish dialect, meaning a tin house. And he pointed out that Madonna did not seek his permission to release her hit record in 1990.

“In answer to your question of whether we would change the name of our company, it is a categoric NO,” Graham wrote, but he did invite the addressees to stop by for a beer and a free lunch.

On May 13, Condé Nast finally replied with a letter from an English staffer saying they were "grateful to learn more about your business in this beautiful part of our country.”

“I am sure you will appreciate why we regularly monitor use of the name VOGUE," wrote Christopher P. Donnellan. “However, you are quite correct to note that further research by our team would have identified that we did not need to send such a letter on this occasion.”

At first, Graham said he was still "miffed" (madder than "vexed," less mad than "irked") and called this whole thing a case of "a big multinational company trying to stomp on the little guy.” But then, along came a framed apology to hang up in the pub, and all is cool.

 

The Grahams and the letter that put everything right.

I often think of how much people like the CN executive who decided to hassle these nice innkeepers are paid to sit in offices and do foolish things. I'll let you know if they have any openings.

Sunday Rerun: How about THESE birds?

 If this were a rock concert or something really sensational featuring a star of the magnitude of, I'm gonna say, Luke Bryan, I would ask right now, "Washington DEEE CEEEEEE! How ya doing?"

Washington DC is about 45 miles from where we live, and it might as well be 45,000 thousand miles, for as often as we go to America's Shining Capitol City On A Hill. Don't get me wrong, I love plenty of people who live down there and in the suburbs surrounding the District, but there always seems to be some sort of commotion happening in the capitol, some heavy business that I can do without. On the other hand, the last time we went, we saw Fonzie's leather jacket and Archie Bunker's easy chair in the Smithsonian, so there's that!

And now, people are flocking (!) to DC to see something even cooler than Dick Clark's "American Bandstand" dais...certainly more colorful...Look up in the sky! It's a bird!

The article I read said that "excited birders" (and is there any other kind?) are wedging into the Chesapeake and Ohio Canal National Historical Park, along the Potomac River, just northwest of DC.  The big attraction is the presence of a painted bunting, a vibrant colorful bird who usually hangs around in Florida. 

There's a birder site called eBird, and as soon as someone saw a painted bunting at that park, they tweeted (couldn't resist) about it and now people are going to the park the way they ran down to BJs last spring when the word got out that the big box retailer had a fresh shipment of paper towels, tee pee, and Lysol Wipes. 

One of the birdwatchers was Jacques Pitteloud, who, as we all know, is Switzerland’s ambassador to the US. “To see it close to DC, that was absolutely unrealistic,” Pitteloud told the Washington POST. He added that he has been chasing birds with binoculars since he was a boy, and this bird was “exceptional.”

It's a male bird that they're seeing. You know that in Bird World, it's the guys who put on the flashy plumage, to attract the females, who are thrilled to see a guy who knows how to match his bright blue head, red tummy and green and red slashes on his back. The females are green all over, probably from envy.

I must say, the painted bunting reminds me of Little Richard in all his glory!

These birds are about 5in in length, their favorite dinner is seeds and insects, and build their nests in heavy green growth. And just like every living being, and Mitch McConnell, they are affected by climate change. A lot of birds are moving north as it gets really hot down south. “Climate change is disrupting hundreds of bird species, and thanks to community scientists all across the country, we can visualize these disruptions in real time and plan conservation efforts accordingly,” is how Sarah Saunders, a quantitative ecologist at Audubon, puts it.

So it's a bad sign for the climate of Earth, but a good sign for those who don't want to drive to Florida and have breakfast at a Waffle House just to see a painted bunting. New neighbors are coming our way! Let's welcome them.

The Saturday Picture Show, May 21, 2022

 

We've all had the experience of coming to work in a fog. Here's a new Amazon fulfillment center's 5th floor that comes pre-fogged for your convenience!

This photograph is called  “Girls in the Windows.” It was taken by Ormond Gigli  on  East 58th Street in New York in 1960. Good thing everyone showed up on the day they scheduled the shoot...the building was knocked down the next day.

It was very snazzy in the 1930s to have a V-8 motor in your Ford, guzzling gas that cost maybe 15 cents a gallon.

I like this picture because it looks like someone is making homemade stew to go along with this nice bread!

A standard treat on Monday mornings in offices around Maryland is someone coming back from Ocean City with a tub of Fisher's caramel popcorn. It's usually gone by lunchtime.

Maybe they're the best they can, but you're better off without them.

Surely someone somewhere on Saturday, January 22, 1977, said, "Honey! Let's go out for a nice Italian dinner tonight!" And that's when the trouble began.

Here's what it looks like, above the peak of Mt Everest. 

Everyone loves Marilyn Monroe, and someone loved this Andy Warhol pop art picture called "Shot Sage Blue Marilyn" so much, he shelled out $195 million to buy it. Not included in the sale price is an explanation of why Warhol named it that.

Hello, Librarians! Here's a use for your old pre-computer card catalog! File your wine in it, and when your neighbor comes over to bum a bottle from your collection, stamp the bottle with a due date!

Wrap It Up

In my dotage, I appreciate the gifts to society that young people bring every day. Imagine a world without 3-D printing, E-readers, digital technology, retinal implants, crowdfunding, The Cloud, and the new improved Italian BMT at Subway ("Big. Meaty. Tasty. Get it.")

And here in Baltimore at the world-famous Johns Hopkins University, some brilliant young minds have come up with something the world sorely needed for a long time.

They call it Tastee Tape! It's a tape made of food-grade fibers and an organic adhesive.  What this tape does, it holds a burrito closed while it cooks and while you eat it, making sure that all the goodness packed inside stays inside.

And I say the world sorely needed it, because in the dark pre-Tastee Tape era, benighted burrito makers would use a toothpick to hold everything together, leading to sad scenes in which hapless burrito consumers would impale the roof of their gobbling mouths with a toothpick.

Ouch!

 

True scientists, the students ran through a few different ingredients before coming up with the finished product. And they were clever enough to add a harmless blue dye to the tape so that it photographs better.  Marketing 101!  

"The girl who came up with the idea, one of our team members, Erin (Walsh), she was eating her burrito one day, and it was during the beginning of the semester when we had to come up with these ideas, and it was just everywhere, and she was like you know what, this is a problem to be fixed," JHU senior Tyler Guarino told WBAL TV here in Baltimore, the proud home of this lifesaving product. Gaurino was quoted on a Hopkins press release as promising that product has "the tensile strength you can trust to hold together a fat burrito."

"This was a problem to be fixed." Let that be engraved on the statue of Ms Walsh on the Hopkins campus.

When Tastee Tape hits your local grocery shelves, it will be in the form of half-inch wide, two-inch long rectangular strips, affixed to waxed paper, which I guess can be used to wrap your burrito.

I tell you, we might not have enough baby formula in this country, but doggone if we're gonna have burritos spilling all over the place anymore!  

 

  

For Amber Waves Of Grain

With the New York Yankees in town to play the Orioles, I got to thinking of a true New York oddity that goes back to the days in the early 1980s when the sadly ill-fated Twin Towers were new.

That part of Manhattan is now called Battery Park City, a land filled with high-rises, condos and financial centers. In 1982, it was just a landfill, and the Public Art Fund commissioned an artist named  Agnes Denes to create a work of public art. 

And what a work of art she came up with!

Listen, anyone can come up with a giant sculpture and say that "it depicts man's inhumanity to man" or some such. But Ms Denes planted a field of golden wheat, immediately next door (so to speak) to the silver towers. She used the dirt that had been excavated to build the Twin Towers in the first place, and now it's the foundation of Battery Park City.

Denes was a thoughtful artist, and felt that her “decision to plant a wheat field in Manhattan, instead of designing just another public sculpture, grew out of a long-standing concern and need to call attention to our misplaced priorities and deteriorating human values.” The goal was to get people to rethink their priorities.

She used two assistants (and did not call them "farmhands") and a crew of volunteers to clean up the four acres and top it with 225 dumptruck loads of topsoil, and then plant 1.8 acres of wheat.  They even added irrigation pipes to help the wheat along.

By that summer, the field was verdant with wheat stalks that were golden amber by harvest time, when over 1000 pounds of wheat came in.

Now, you have to stop and think that this was purely artistic and symbolic. The value of this land was around 4.5 BILLION dollars, so bringing in half a ton of wheat every fall is not going to balance that scale. The wheatfield was a beautiful symbol, representing the basics of food supply, recalling our agrarian past, but art for art's sake only goes so far.

Organizers took the grain to 28 cities as part of an exhibition called The International Art Show for the End of World Hunger. To perpetuate the symbol, seeds were given to people in all of those cities, to be planted all over the world. Who knows? The bread for your sandwich might have sprung from one of those long-ago seeds!

Never at a loss for capsule comments, the New York Times sent a reporter who wrote, "To look across this wheat field is to see the Statue of Liberty, Ellis Island and boat traffic as in a surreal illusion."

 Denes had said her idea was for “an intrusion of the country into the metropolis, the world’s richest real estate”.

I love things that don't quite line up, like seeing a deer prance along the sidewalk around our county courthouse one time, but a wheatfield in Manhattan is something we may never see again.

 

Nothing to beef about

Whatever you do for a living - be it typing memos all day, trying shoes on people's feet all afternoon, bringing people beer and pretzels all evenings, or working in a tollbooth all night, you have undoubtedly felt like you've "done this same thing a million times!"

Gayle Dudley can tell you for sure, she has.

Gayle is from Georgia, and she has worked at the same Longhorn Steakhouse for nigh onto twenty years. Recently the good people at Longhorn gave her some respect for grilling her one-millionth steak!  

 

 

She's been at the Longhorn on Macon Rd in Columbus GA for all these years, and she got a nice surprise when the big shots of the company showed up with one of those whimsical giant checks for her.

Along with the 5 Gs, they gave a gold chef coat and the title of "Grill Master Legend." This is an honor bestowed upon that small group of griddlers who have reached the million-steak mark. Before Gayle, the last person to get that much beef on the fire was Simeona "Simi" Tamaseu, from the Longhorn in Jacksonville, Fla., in 2018.

I think these outstanding employees should get matching gold chef hats to go along with the coats, but apparently the company feels that would be one toque over the line.  

 

Strokes of luck

What a horrible weekend, what with the mass shootings happening at an exponential clip. I mean, it's kind of serious when a church shooter kills one and wounds five and that's only the third or fourth most horrible shooting of the weekend.

And the war goes on, and oil companies continue to shake us down for more money while their profits go crazy, and parents of babies can't find formula to feed their children because of no good reasons.

Meanwhile, in a coincidence that might serve as a warning to all, two leading politicians from this area suffered strokes over the weekend.

Maryland's junior US Senator, Chris Van Hollen, said he suffered a "minor stroke" over the weekend and is still in George Washington University Hospital.

The Maryland Democrat's statement said that his doctors told him "there are no long-term effects or damage as a result of this incident" but he points out that he'll be staying put for observation. He plans to return to work later this week.

Mr.  Van Hollen went to the hospital after he had been "experiencing lightheadedness and acute neck pain" while making a speech. Upon returning home, he checked with a doctor, who recommended that he present himself at a hospital.

And, up in Pennsylvania, the most interesting lieutenant governor in the world, John Fetterman, who is the the favorite to win his state's Democratic US Senate primary election today, announced Sunday that he's recovering after a stroke.

"I had a stroke that was caused by a clot from my heart being in an A-fib rhythm for too long," Fetterman said, adding, "I'm feeling much better, and the doctors tell me I didn't suffer any cognitive damage. I'm well on my way to a full recovery."

Fetterman's spokesman, Joe Calvello, said the lieutenant governor was going to an event on Friday, when his wife, Gisele, urged him to get checked out at a hospital.

"I wasn't feeling well, so I went to the hospital to get checked out," Fetterman said in the statement. "I didn't want to go — I didn't think I had to — but Gisele insisted, and as usual, she was right."

To show the quirky fascinating personality of Gisele Fetterman, I must tell you that in her position as Second Lady of Pennsylvania, she self-identifies as SLOP! I think these two are the very models for coolness today, and I hope they will reside in DC very soon.

And, please, pay attention to the list below. If you or someone you love is experiencing these symptoms, do not assume "it will go away." Taking action at the first sign of stroke symptoms is key. 

No Strings Attached

“Music has charms to soothe a savage breast.”  - Little Richard

Nah, just fooling; that's a line from the William Congreve play "The Mourning Bride," and it dates back to 1697.

But no matter what kind of music you like, from the baroque offerings of Congreve's day to the big band sounds to the Dixie Peach, Little Richard, to whatever is popular today, music affects us, heart and soul.

If you've ever seen the movie The Wizard of Oz, you've heard that plaintive melody “Somewhere Over the Rainbow,” you know how sad that wailing fiddle sounds on that tune.

And there's a chance that the movie music was played on a violin that was made in 1714!

No one can be sure if the one pictured below is the instrument that was in the movie, but this fiddle was made in Italy by Antonio Stradivari. It's up for auction on June 9 at the Tarisio auction house.

If you plan to go and buy it, better plan to shell out 20. 20 million. 20 million US dollars.

In 2011, another Stradivarius violin was sold for $16 million to benefit victims of the Japanese earthquake and tsunami.  

Carlos Tome, the director of Tarisio, says this violin “has a luscious, deep and powerful sound and is something that really carries you.” 

This fiddle is also known as an “ex-Seidel,” referring to the musician who used to own it: Russian American virtuoso Toscha Seidel. When he bought it in 1924, the pricetag  was $25,000. Seidel told the New York TIMES that "...we precisely suit each other, and I am convinced it is one of the finest examples of the famous violin maker.” 

When someone says "we precisely suit each other," you wonder if he is talking about an instrument or another human, but this is how great artists speak.

Seidel played with many top orchestras, made records, and had a radio show on the CBS Network. He also played "ghost violin" for movie actors who could not play.


And, says Adam Baer in "The American Scholar", "That we largely associate love scenes or depictions of the less fortunate in films—or any scene evoking tears or strong emotions—with the sound of the violin is largely due to Seidel... he laid the groundwork for mainstream America to deepen its love affair with the violin.”

And it was at about the time he was sawing the strings for MGM Studios that the Wizard of Oz was filmed, so it is possible that his haunting music was in the background when Dorothy was hoping to get back to Kansas.


 We don't know, and the chances are, we never will. But whoever buys the violin next month should take it to Nashville and let one of the Grand Ole Opry's finest take a run at "Down Yonder" some night soon!

Sunday Rerun: I Put A Spell On You

 

In the course of writing my daily blatherings, I often go to the Merriam-Webster website to check on spelling, word usage and etymology.  I love words and use thousands of them in daily speech and writing, and yet I don't find that same love in a lot of other people who commit sins against the language.

Nothing to do with the story, but I have
friends who like to see pictures of a
weepy John Boehner.

The amount of people who write "I should of known better" stuns me, but when this error is pointed out, the bad writer will reply with "Your a looser."  Looser than what? comes the question, and what is there to say to that?

Even professional writers, people who get paid to compose articles, commit atrocities such as "At the age of eleven, his mother died."

I tend not to correct other people's errors unless they ask me to vet their résumés, love letters or grocery lists.  But, while I don't say a person is of less value because his or her grammar and spelling are on the low side of proficiency, I can't help but shake my head when I see "your to dumb to even no it" as someone's reply online.  Conversely, I knew a man who had a radiator shop, and he was perfectly correct in his language skills, which allowed me to reckon that his skills in re-coring radiators would be similarly stellar.  And they were.

I revere Keith Olbermann

But it turns out I'm not alone in hoping for better English for a better America ( and all other English-speaking nations.) Beside the ever-vigilant Keith Olbermann, it turns out that Samuel L. Jackson is One Of Us.  This appeared on the Merriam-Webster website: 

Sam'l. L. Jackson

In an interview, Samuel L. Jackson responded to being called the "grammar police" on Twitter for correcting other people's English: "I'll take that. Somebody needs to be. I mean, we have newscasters who don't even know how to conjugate verbs."

Conjugate means "to list the different forms of a verb that show number, person, tense, etc."

Mr. Jackson was probably referring to instances in which newscasters have said things like, "he had went" instead of "he had gone."

We do not know how widespread the problem of newscasters using incorrect verb forms actually is, but Mr. Jackson was arguing that grammatical sloppiness is symptomatic of "a society where mediocrity is acceptable."
Mediocrity is a stranger in the house in which pride dwells.

The Saturday Picture Show, May 14, 2022

 

One of the great symbols of Baltimore was a weekly scrubbing of the white marble steps on the thousands of rowhouses that dot the town. This two-duck inspection team is walking around to see why this happens no more.

"What are New York, Philadelphia, and Baltimore?"

The best use of strawberries, for me, is to bury them under an avalanche of Reddi-Wip atop a fresh biscuit. And their time is coming soon!

I was unfortunate enough to overhear a conversation the other day in which a man held forth on international relations. He said the UN, as in United Nations, "stands for Useless and Needless." There used to be a time when someone as nescient as he would limit public blatherings to discussions of auto parts catalogs, comparisons of all-time major league centerfielders, and the latest celebrity gossip. But no. 

I got to thinking about Bonnie Parker and Clyde Barrow this week, as the star-crossed lovers from the Alabama hoosegow met their respective fates. To look at these two reprobates and see Faye Dunaway and Warren Beatty playing them in the movie took a great stretch.

How old are you, may I ask? I ask because no matter how old you are, this bonsai is older than you. It just turned 116, and it never looked better!

This is worth some thought, when you think about it.

This is the latest thing in Asian umbrella fashions, called the Jellyfish. I'm sure those tendrils are not annoying at all on a windy rainy day. 

There were times, during the days when I owned pick-up trucks, that I could have used this sort of assist to empty the bed. Not having a truck anymore means never hearing someone say, "Hey, pick me up a load of mulch, will ya?"

This is bioluminescent plankton, proper chow for marine life that likes its food all lit up.