Awful shorts

This morning the front page of the local fishwrap had not one but two pictures of Delawareans in their national dress: baggy, loose, ill-fitting shorts and a scruffy t-shirt. No wonder the birthrate is down! These shorts would never be acceptable to anyone at any time or with any accessories. They have elastic waists, worn either over or under a paunch, are made of far too much deplorable fabric, and are a perfect length to make any man's legs look awful. You wouldn't want to see Cary Grant in these shorts. Shorts per se need not be awful. Look at the ones the British Army sported in Africa during World War II. But the British are good at uniforms and at menswear generally.

Romney the vote repeller

Mitt doesn't need the media carrying water for Obama, he's doing a fine job of lousing up his campaign his own self. Take his remarks on the 47 percent. Well, Mitt, I am one of these, a person on Social Security and a New Jersey pension, but if you don't want my vote just say so and I'll stay home from the election. BTW, I pay taxes.

Advice for Mitt

Mitt, if you want to be president, stop discussing which Americans you don't worry about, that don't concern you, which Americans are leeches sucking the blood of the productive classes, etc. These remarks don't make you look like a clever fellow, they make you look like a doofus. We already have one of those leading the country.

Genealogy

I've been doing my family tree, but have hit the wall. I did okay with my parents and grandparents, but going farther back is complicated and difficult. For one thing, they kept changing their names. My father's father was originally named Zev, which means wolf in Hebrew, so he called himself Wolf when he came to this country, but didn't like the sound of it, so changed it to William and was known as Bill.

My Aunt Helen was originally named something that translates to Julia but sounds weird because Hungarian is a tough language. So she was Helen. My uncle Andy was Gersh. Don't ask.

My mother's parents were a little easier. Originally Kantrovich, they shortened it to Kanter. A couple of zaydie's brothers moved to this country and were living in Milwaukee when last heard from. One was called Feibel and another was Velvel. God knows what they called themselves; I found records of their sailing here but nothing else.

Liking

I

consider Facebook one of the most useless and time-sucking activities available to man, right up there with cleaning the grout in your bathroom tiles. When everyone started "friending" me I enjoyed hearing from people I hadn't seen in years. Since most of them are doing exactly what I predicted 20 years ago, I was pleased to have my judgment vindicated. Also it was nice to hear from them.

I did "friend" a bunch of people, mostly relatives. As far as posting any information about what I'm doing, the answer is, essentially nothing. Nothing that would interest anyone. I also "liked" a number of organizations, most notably the Delaware Symphony, which promptly went out of business. Nice work, Miriam.

This is background stuff, preliminary to inform you about an e-mail I received from a close relative from the Commie side of the family. She upbraided me because someone she knew told her I "liked" Mitt Romney, and she was aghast. As it happens, I didn't, and don't, and I told her so. She seemed quite relieved. I suffer from l'esprit de'escalier otherwise known as staircase wit, meaning that I think of a witty retort on the way home from the party, when it's too late. So here's what I would have told her, after re-covering my wits:

What's it to you? And if I did "like" Romney, so what? It's not like "liking" Goebbels. I don't "like" Romney but I'm voting for him just the same.

So there!

Introducing my new dental team

When dentists start talking about teamwork, I know it's going to cost me. There are three members on our team. I'm the one with the open mouth and the empty wallet. The other two are the ones shopping for new Mercedes, the car of choice for dentists.

Raise your blood pressure, lower your IQ

and ruin your day. Just try to call 1) Verizon, 2) Comcast, 3) Social Security, 4) your bank, or _______________ (fill in the blank yourself) and deal with their caller direction system. They should make it easier for you, the consumer, otherwise known as hey Rube! Instead, these systems are designed to protect the staff of whatever organization you are trying to communicate with from any contact with a live customer. I always feel a great energy drain from the other end of the line, like a gigantic vacuum cleaner. They suck the little grey cells out of your brain, and after an hour or so you are a gibbering idiot who can't remember how to tie your shoes.

Ho hum.

This election cycle, no matter how stridently everyone carries on. seems boring to me.

F

irst, the President. He has pulled every trick out of his little bag of tricks, and it's empty now. So he opened Pandora's box and let out-Debbie Wasserman Schulz. Shakespeare said a low voice is an excellent thing in woman, but the Debster didn't get the memo. She is the closest thing we have to a perpetual motion machine.

As for Romney, a man who actually says "Gosh" when he hits his thumb with a hammer, or so I imagine--he is our generation's answer to Warren G Harding, handsome but deeply boring.

There are 300 million people in the country, couldn't we do better than this?

In what way is abortion a campaign issue?

It's not.

Abortion is permitted by law, and confirmed as legal by the Supreme Court. So why are we talking about it? Why don't we discuss how many orfreys an archbishop can have on his chasuble? That would be more pertinent.

George W Bush, ostensibly anti-abortion, did nothing to change this law because there was nothing he could realistically do. Clinton did nothing, Obama did nothing, Romney will do nothing. So who cares what their respective opinions are about abortion; it's as relevant as their opinions on pickled herring.

T

he real takeaway from this whole discussion is the knowledge that a member of Congress can be as dumb as a post. Dumber, really, because a post can't make a fool of itself. We leave that to Todd Akin. Oh, yes, and Debbie Wasserman Schulz.

Oy vey! These people are running the country!

The boy genius.

My brother the genius as a boy. He really was an extraordinarily bright child, reading physics books when he was five. He went to school for the requisite 13 years, but they didn't teach him anything, he knew it all already. His practical judgment is another story. He used an inheritance to buy a Wang computer. Remember them? Neither does anyone else, except perhaps Mr Wang. It cost $30,000 but was, according to him, a great investment. The company went out of business the following year. In the 1970s, he believed strongly that we were going to run out of natural gas within the near future. He tried to get mother to convert to oil heat, but she pointblank refused. This led me to conclude that we would soon have a glut of natural gas. He thinks everyone in the country should be on Medicare. Any takers for that theory?

Let's save money by cutting the library's budget

Instapundit had a post some time ago about Harvard having to cut expenditures. They started by cutting one of the periodical subscriptions the University Library receives which costs $40,000 a year.

Forty thousand is a big sum of money, to be sure. The periodical is probably useless. But they could save a lot more if they fired a couple of diversity counselors or vice presidents in charge of student sensitivity. Or gender issues. Furthermore, the periodical subscription does not have health benefits, paid leave, or sabbaticals and doesn't hassle anyone. It just sits there quietly, minding its own business and moldering on the shelves, while the administrative personnel are not only useless but troublesome.

E

very time any organization or municipal body needs to save money, they cut the library's budget. Not the salaries of cops who park their patrol cars in the back of the supermarket parking lot in order to take a snooze, or the clerk who has been sitting at her desk quietly doing the crossword puzzle for the last 14 years. That would take work, you would have to ascertain which employees do necessary tasks and which are worthless, and anyway this person is a cousin of the Mayor.

Governor Christie did not cut funding for libraries. What he did was cut funding for municipalities, who then decided that it would be okay for the library to only be open three days a week.

New they're bringing the FBI into this:

ANTI-TERRORIST AND MONITORY CRIMES DIVISION FBI HEADQUARTERS IN WASHINGTON, D.C. FEDERAL BUREAU OF INVESTIGATION J. EDGAR HOOVER BUILDING 935 PENNSYLVANIA AVENUE, NW WASHINGTON D.C. 20535-0001 TEL: 202-324-3447 Attn: Fund Beneficiary This is an official advice from the FBI, foreign remittance/telegraphic dept. (FRTD), it has come to our notice that the (central bank of Nigeria) C.B.N and there local banks in Nigeria has released your full inheritance/contract payment of 10,000,000 U.S dollars into bank of America in your name as the beneficiary as there corresponding bank in USA. The bank in Africa knowing fully well that they do not have enough facilities to effect this payment from Europe to your account and they used what we know as a secret diplomatic transit payment S.T.D.P to pay this fund through wire transfer. They are still waiting for final confirmation from you on the already transferred funds, to enable them crediting into your account accordingly. secret diplomatic transfer payment are normally funds related to drug/terrorist and money laundry system of payment, why must your payment be made in such secret transfer, if your transaction is legitimate and not related to drug/terrorist and money laundry, why can't the bank in Africa via Europe effect direct transfer into your account than secret diplomatic payment transfer. Due to the increased difficulties and unnecessary scrutiny by the American authorities when funds come from through such payment process from Europe, Africa and middle east, based on the records we had in the past always identified such method of payment as drug/ terrorist/money laundry funds, to avoid problem with the us government as soon as these funds reflect in your account in the U.S.A, it is our mandatory obligations to ascertain the documentation and certification of this funds before the final crediting into your account. We advice you contact us immediately, as the funds have been stopped and held in our custody pending when you were able to provide us with a diplomatic immunity seal of transfer (DIST) and letter of indemnity clearance certificate within 24hours from the united nation international fund monitory unit (UNIFMU) that authorize the transfer and certified that the funds originated from Africa and middle east is free from terrorist/drug and money laundry or we shall confiscate the payment. We will allow the funds to be release into your nominated account immediately you make provision the required document. You will be directed where and how to get the document if it is not in your possession. Your’s sincerely Robert S. Mueller, III

FBI Director Those ingenious Nigerians! However, they need to learn the proper spelling of "monetary.

Treasure Island

I saw Treasure Island with Wallace Beery the other night. It was so good! Beery was superb; the rest of the cast was merely wonderful. What a story! I've always loved RLS, both as a man and as a writer. I decided my ten-year-old grandson would enjoy reading Treasure Island, so went on Amazon to buy a copy for him. There were so many versions on offer, but some of them were condensed, like Obama's white girlfriends, and it was not apparent which were and which were not. Why do they ruin books like that?

Complaining, whingeing, and whining

Hot, humid, hot, hot, hot. My plants look as if they could use a good stiff drink, the lawn is brown, and the roses refuse to bloom. The sky is grey and looks threatening--although what it could threaten us with more unpleasant than what we've got would be hard to figure out. I suppose a hurricane would do the trick. I joined the JCC earlier because I refused to spend another summer without getting in a swimming pool. But the pool is as warm as chicken soup, although so far I have not encountered any matzoh balls or noodles floating in it. I have a lot of administrative stuff to do that soaks up my time like a sponge soaks up water. These dreary tasks make me feel like I have an unpleasant job, filled with monotonous but exacting tasks that never end, which moreover I have to pay for instead of being paid to do it. It involves lawyers, banks, and government functionaries. The IRS seems to have lost my 2010 return, and so have I. They called me about it in 2011 and I was able to answer questions about it but I appear to have eaten the paperwork. Or misfiled it. It is now as lost as my favorite umbrella. The best news of the past month is that I have been summoned for jury duty.

People who should know better...

are dissing the liberal arts and advising college students to go in for STEM courses instead. This is based on a false dichotomy. The liberal arts as taught today are a far cry from your grandmother's liberal arts. I should know--I'm a grandmother. When I went to college back in the late lamented 20th century, liberal arts students read "the best that has been thought and said." We read great works of English and American literature. In addition, we had to take courses in history and science. These courses were survey courses, not the greatest, but they did present an overview of Western civilization. We also had to take a couple of years of a foreign language. We read all of Shakespeare's plays as well as those written by other Renaissance playwrights, and a ton of poetry. We were taught grammar and had to do a good deal of writing, which is an excellent way of learning to think. Today's students master Grievance Studies such as Black History, Womyn's History, GLBT history and so on ad infinitum. Or popular culture like soap operas and cartoons. It is no surprise that they get As in everything, who wouldn't? Foreign language departments are closing, as no-one is required to study language any more. Ditto for philosophy. And a four-year course of study takes six years! Students are leaving colleges with worthless diplomas, heavy debt, and empty heads. But don't blame the liberal arts. Nobody is studying them any more.

St Swithin's Day

The Hispanics who came to dinner

Disgusting.

A list of red light cameras in Delaware. An article in the recent edition of the AAA magazine makes the point that traffic enforcement should be about safety, not revenue. Clearly this is not the priority of local governments in Delaware. Some traffic lights are actually set up to have very short yellow periods, the better to entrap the people they are trying to "protect."

Gone to Philly

I finally ordered season's tickets to the Philadelphia Orchestra. The seats, in the nosebleed section, were cheap, even with added fees. They are a world class orchestra and I'm looking forward to some great music. I feel very sad for the Delaware Symphony; I know some of the musicians and staff. But it was necessary to make alternate arrangements. I need my musical fix. Maybe Delaware will come back...someday.

Gone to Chicago to cool off

I may not be rich, beautiful or smart, but I have something better: good Chicago weather Karma. It was terribly hot here, so I went to Chicago to cool off. The temperature was supposed to be in the 90s. However, every time I've been in Chicago the weather has been nice, a condition I am informed is rare, and so it was this time. Chicago did not disappoint: the weather cleared up immediately and the temperature dropped to the clement low 80s. Maybe I should move there? It might improve life for the inhabitants.

The winery, a new painting

work in progress; Bathers

I received the following letter from our leader:

Patricia -- I'm about to sit down for lunch with a few grassroots supporters who are being flown in from Arizona, Maryland, Michigan, and Ohio. It'll just be me and these four supporters, with enough time to relax and have a real conversation. I can't wait. I'm not going to get to do too many more of these before November. That's just a fact. So if you'd like to be there for one of the last ones, please chip in $3 or whatever you can -- and you'll be automatically entered for that chance: https://donate.barackobama.com/Meet-Me-for-Dinner Next time, I could be on my way to meet you. Thanks, Barack

I would be all starry-eyed about this, except my name is not Patricia. So I won't be sending three dollars.

Delaware Symphony cancels 2012-2013 season

This is a real blow to me. I can't believe they would do this after selling tickets for the season. Why didn't they warn stakeholders before the well went dry? I am investigating going to Philly for my music fix. It's not that far for me; the real deal-breaker is parking, which is expensive and hard to come by. But if I go somewhere else, it won't be so easy to come back if the Delaware ever gets its act together.

Quibbles

I saw a sign recently at a business establishment: "Special discounts for everyone." How can there be special discounts for everyone? Special discounts are for special customers, aren't they? How can they be special if everyone gets them? Regular or irregular customers should get the regular price. Shouldn't they?

Loser

I bought a copy of Malcolm Gladwell's Outliers at the good Will store for $1, and it was worth every penny. The author proves that boys who were born in January and February are more likely to excel in hockey. They have an advantage over their classmates because they are older than boys born during the rest of the year, therefore more mature, stronger, etc, etc. I applied this knowledge to my own situation and gained a lot of insight. After leaving my commie progressive school at the age of 11, I was placed in the eighth grade, making me one and a half to two years younger than anyone else in the eighth grade. They were already 13 or more! I didn't stand a chance! I attribute every subsequent failure of my academic career to this fact. Mother and dad made me a loser!

Bummer

My spam filter appears to have taken the day off. I hate when that happens.

Guilt

John Edwards, though a thorough nogoodnik, is not guilty of any crime, as correctly decided by a jury of his peers. But Jon Corzine is guilty; he is a gonif pure and simple.

You can still

rent a German! In case you, you know, want one.

Happy Memorial Day

O brave new world

Excuse me if I don't go all starry-eyed over this prospect:

The police [in Vallejo, CA] went high-tech, investing $500,000 in cameras across the city that allow officers to monitor a larger area than they could before. The department deputized citizens to participate in law enforcement by sharing tips on Facebook and Twitter.

So the cops can sit in the precinct all comfy and cozy, watching television monitors filming the streets which it is their duty to patrol. How well has that worked in London? Meanwhile citizens can report their friends and neighbors to the authorities, just like in Hitler's Germany. No thanks.

Turkish suspicions

Oi vey!

Obama in French

Why does the President annoy me so? If I turn on the television and he is talking, I immediately change the channel. I was trying to figure out where this visceral reaction comes from. Today it came to me. A French phrase, for which we have no equivalent in English: He speaks en haut de bas. It actually means from high to low, but is generally considered to describe haughtiness-- the aristocrat looking down his nose at us peasants. It is infuriating.

New painting

The perfect man

What would my perfect man be like? Intelligent; Reads, writes and speaks fluent English; Showers frequently and cleans under his fingernails; Knows how to unclog a toilet; Looks? From average guy to Cary Grant--anything in this range is acceptable; Must weigh more than me; Likes music and movies; Does not listen to all Things Considered; Likes me. A lot. I could be more picky, but if anyone were more perfect, he would be too good for me.

Dilemma

My Keurig coffeemaker declines to make coffee. What do you do about an appliance that's too cheap to repair and too expensive to replace? There used to be a little old man in a little old shop in Rutherford, NJ, who would fix your small appliance for a small sum. Such enterprises no longer exist. I miss him.

A lot of work

A lot of work went into this comment, from my spam folder:

I am glad to be a {visitor | visitant} of this {perfect | arrant | complete | consummate | double dyed | everlasting | gross | pure | sodding | stark | staring | thoroughgoing | utter | unadulterated} {blog | website | site | web blog | weblog | web site}! , {thanks | thankyou | regards | appreciate it} for this {rare} {info | information}! .| I am {happy | glad | pleased | delighted | lucky | thankful} that I {found | detected | observed | discovered | noticed} this {blog | website | site | web blog | weblog | web site}, {just | precisely | exactly} the right {information | info} that I was {looking | searching } for! .|Very {interesting} {topic | subject }, {thanks | thankyou | regards | appreciate it} for {posting | putting up}. | п»їmahjong en ligne gratuit >> jeux de mahjong gratuit en ligne on Thousa

The hell with the trees

The paper towel dispenser in my gym has a decal stating: "Remember, these are made from trees." I thought trees were a renewable resource. Apparently I was wrong. To the manufacturer of this dispenser: If you consider making items out of trees a criminal enterprise, stop. Go out of business. If you don't, shut up.

Teaching "innovation"

What public education system has this author observed? It doesn't seem to resemble the American system I am familiar with.

Knowledge that children are encouraged to soak up in American schools — the memorization of planets, state capitals, the Periodic Table of Elements — can only take students so far. But “skill and will” determine a child’s ability to think outside of the box, he says.

Who says American school children are being taught these things? They are not even learning the multiplication tables or how to write cursive. Instead, the curriculum is devoted to promoting self esteem, diversity, and political correctness. Our children are not being taught the basic skills they need to survive in our society, such as how to add, subtract, multiply and divide. We are educating them to become suckers. They are incapable of thinking anything through or expressing their opinions with clarity. You can't teach children to be creative. That comes from within. But you can equip them with the knowledge required not to be gullible fools. You can transmit our Western heritage.

No Kapcha!

Or is it spelled Captcha? Whatever, I really can't decipher it most of the time. Maybe I am a robot!

I've been trying for two weeks to purchase tickets for Tanglewood. There's a special promotion--30% off tickets. Maybe because I plan to attend Friday the thirteenth, I have had nothing but trouble navigating their website. First they want me to sign in. Why? I prefer that the BSO and I maintain a formal relationship. I don't want access to their website. Just sell me the tickets, dammit! But they insist. So I admit that I forgot my password (I use it once a year) and they e-mail me a new password. Back to their site. The new password does not work. Okay, Plan B. Call them on the phone. When I call, they inform me that they are closed for Patriot's Day. The State that sent Teddy Kennedy to the Senate is more patriotic than the rest of us, I guess. I e-mail the BSO and inform them of their extreme suckiness. I never get a reply, so I call again. At last, success--but the discount which was offered in the special online promotion is gone, never to be heard of again. I look at their website, seeking to recapture the magic moment, and am informed that from now on I have to change my password every time I log on. Why can't I log on as a stranger?

Apology

I've been reviewing some of my older posts, and I must admit I was a better writer then. It gets harder and harder. When I was young the words just flowed, but as I got older, I appear to have dropped a few IQ points here and there. I used to search for the mot juste, and frequently got it right. But now, instead of the mot juste, I sometimes settle for the mot second best or, worse yet, the mot good enough for government work.

A wasted morning

On the phone with Verizon. You have to grit your teeth and prepare to waste time, eons of it, to get anything done. I've never had decent phone service from them and long ago gave up expecting it. But the latest wrinkle is that callers to my home phone are informed that my mailbox is full. It isn't, because I listen to my calls every day, and remove them. So I called Verizon and after the usual interaction with the bland and irritating robot, I got somebody called John, who said he would call my phone and see what message he got, and get back to me. He didn't, unless "getting back to me" is a new phrase for hanging up. Just to make sure I had ground enough enamel off my teeth, I then called Comcast and informed them they could stop sending me letters threatening to suspend service, because I had canceled them at the beginning of the year. To make the day complete, I called the Boston Symphony to order tickets for a concert in July and found they were closed for something called Patriots Day. Whatever that is.

Food for thought?

This would explain so much.

Lynch mob politics

I wonder whether anyone else had the same reaction as I did to Angela Corey's announcement of the charges against George Zimmerman, the "white Hispanic." I thought he was being railroaded. According to Corey,

”We don’t prosecute by public pressure or petition. We prosecute cases on the relevant facts of each case and on the laws of the state of Florida.”

Sure, and I'm the tooth fairy. When I see those two old frauds, Jesse Jackson and Al Sharpton, circling Zimmerman like a couple of sharks smelling blood, it makes me sick. I am inclined to give anyone accused by them the benefit of the doubt. Remember the Tawana Brawley case? Or Freddy's Fashion Mart?

Needed: a men's empowerment coordinator

Honestly. Is this like a community organizer? I thought men were already empowered.

Passover fun

Another poem for poetry week

Provide, Provide

The witch that came (the withered hag)
To wash the steps with pail and rag
Was once the beauty Abishag,

The picture pride of Hollywood.
Too many fall from great and good
For you to doubt the likelihood.

Die early and avoid the fate.
Or if predestined to die late,
Make up your mind to die in state.

Make the whole stock exchange your own!
If need be occupy a throne,
Where nobody can call you crone.

Some have relied on what they knew,
Others on being simply true.
What worked for them might work for you.

No memory of having starred
Atones for later disregard
Or keeps the end from being hard.

Better to go down dignified
With boughten friendship at your side
Than none at all. Provide, provide!

Robert Frost

Spring green

 

Nature's first green is gold,
Her hardest hue to hold.
Her early leafs a flower;
But only so an hour.
Then leaf subsides to leaf.
So Eden sank to grief,
So dawn goes down to day.
Nothing gold can stay.
Robert Frost

Creepy

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2012/03/27/maquech-broach-beetle-jewelry_n_1383319.htmlUgh.

Confusion

I used to have a junk drawer--everybody has one in the kitchen or in their desk.  However, my junk drawer was expanding  into every drawer in the kitchen.  At that point I had what could be called a junk kitchen.  Every drawer in the kitchen contained some unclassifiable items I needed from time to time.  The junk accumulation then leapfrogged into my study.  First one drawer, then another, and finally all of them filled up with stuff.  The overflow found its way into the closets and from one room to another. 

About three weeks ago, I decided to clean out the junk I had in my study.I loaded three cartons with this stuff.  I threw out hundreds of paid bills and Medicare stuff.  Old Christmas cards.  Personal letters.  There seemed to be more stuff left than ever.  Ads for concerts and special events, art exhibits, bank statements..  All gone.

Here's what I took out of these drawers and don't know what to do with: shoe inserts, bandages of every size, lint rollers, telephone cords, USB cables, picture frames, swimming goggles (2), hair curlers, old photographs, bathing caps,(2) swimsuits (also 2),more USB cables, an iPod, a Flip, scotch tape, picture frames, telephone wire, picture wire, picture hangers, needles, a screwdriver with interchangeable blades, a hammer, screws, nails, nail files, shoelaces, old address books (4), CDs, DVDs, special offers from Comcast.  And plenty more.

I'm just going to dump most of it and start out fresh.

Fruit trees in flower at African American vets memorial

 

In answer to Kitten, a faithful reader, as you may have guessed, everything is not hunky-dory around Charm Manor (Dad died in April, plus misfortunes too many to count, some trivial).  But I am Hanging in There, to coin a phrase.

Birthday Tuesday.  Head bloody but unbowed, and all that rot.  I just haven't been feeling too light-hearted and humorous these days.  Keep coming back.

Newborns aren't people?

So say some ethicists.

 “The moral status of an infant is equivalent to that of a fetus in the sense that both lack those properties that justify the attribution of a right to life to an individual.”

Rather than being “actual persons”, newborns were “potential persons”. They explained: “Both a fetus and a newborn certainly are human beings and potential persons, but neither is a ‘person’ in the sense of ‘subject of a moral right to life’.

Can we agree in advance that ethicists aren't really "actual" persons? If they were "actual" persons, they wouldn't be so morally obtuse.

Blogger Appreciation Day

Just got the news from insty that today is Blogger Appreciation Day.  So come on, you guys.  It's time to appreciate me.  You only have an hour and 15 minutes left to express your appreciation.

Meanwhile, many the bloggers I cherish have moved to Facebook, Twitter, and even Flickr.  Do they still count as bloggers?

More extortion

Here's someone else complaining about red light cameras.  Read it and weep.

Tragic haircut

When I was ten years old I transferred from commie private school to public junior high. All the other kids were bigger and older than me, which put me at a disadvantage, but what really riled me was the way mother dressed me. Like a little girl, which I was. But I wanted to be dressed like the popular junior high girls.

Worst of all was my hair. I had long, beautiful golden hair, which mother thought would turn to brown if I cut it. But all the other girls wore either a flip or a pageboy. And every day I had the indignity of sitting at the kitchen table while bubbe braided my hair. I hated those braids with a passion. I tormented mother until she gave in and allowed me to go to a beautician and get a decent haircut.

I guess she didn't think I would really do it. When I came home with my new do, she was aghast and went into her room and slammed the door. She didn't speak to me for hours. She was right--when my hair grew out it was a dull brown. And hairwise, it was all downhill from that day forward.

My latest painting

A display in a thrift shop.

I'm still here!

I designed this as a Christmas/Chanukah/holiday card, but didn't send any cards out because the printer was on the blink. I'd like to send copies to my friends to let them know I'm still alive and that 2011 didn't do me in. What do you think?

A few weeks ago I was stranded at Philadelphia Airport without a ride, and I was forced to use the Old Lady card.  Fortunately, it succeeded, but the problem with using the Old Lady card is that you have to be an old lady before, during, and after employing the card.  There is no time off for good behavior, no furlough, no chance of a reprieve.  You never even get one day off.

Once upon a time I had a Cute Young Thing Card, but it expired and can never be renewed.

Euphemism

I got a bill  with a photo of me going through a red light, sent by some kind benefactors who call themselves the Red Light Safety Program. They wanted a decent sized check, but that's not what it's about. It's all about my safety.  No doubt they could use the cash as well, but it's really, really about keeping me safe. And the children, too, I'm sure.  Let's not forget the children.

Can't we ever call things by their real names?  This program should be called the Revenue Enhancement Program, or the Gotcha! Program.  That would be more honest.  Just as it would be more honest to refer to abortion and birth control by their own names, instead of piously calling them Women's Health Issues.  And talking about saving women's health.  Pregnancy is not an illness.  Every single person I've ever met was the result of a pregnancy.  Every one.  No exceptions.

Does it ever occur to anyone that women can still get abortions and birth control by paying for it themselves? It's perfectly legal.  But it seems unthinkable.  We used to pay for medical care, in living memory.  When my kids were small, we took them to the pediatrician and paid the bill out of our own pockets.  They got the required shots and well-baby exams without  aid from the government or insurance.  Insurance was for catastrophes.

A couple of years ago, my father suffered an attack of shingles.  It was hideously painful, so when shots for shingles came out, I asked the doctor to prescribe a shot for me.  The insurance carrier had not yet approved this for payment, and my doctor's office was gobsmacked when I offered to pay for it myself.  I did, and was not struck down by a thunderbolt from heaven.

My brother, the genius, sent me this photo.  I don't quite know why he sent it, but I thought I would share it.

Old plants, new shoots

 

I got these plants as gifts a year ago. Put them in the garage and forgot about them. I discovered yesterday that they had sent forth new shoots. So I watered them and am watching them grow.

Someone sent me a comment, which has since been eaten by Blogger, asking what kind of plants they are.  The answer is crocus, daffodil, tulip, and I forget.  I don't know which are which, though.

Undoubtedly more will be revealed.

Relatives?

 

Maybe. I can't tell. The photo is not labeled.

The importance of being Ernest

 

The image above is that of a thug who was responsible for countless deaths. He has become an icon of the American left because of this picture, which is everywhere: on coffee cups, T-shirts, posters, and for all I know, condoms. The picture looks so dashing, so glamorous! That beard, that beret, that intent expression! And his nickname, Che, is so chic, full of masculine bravado. He is of course, Ernesto (Che) Guevara.

Imagine if his friends and family had called him Ernie, instead of Che. Picture him in an alternative universe, in a baseball cap, glasses with unfashionable frames, no beard, and wearing a T-shirt saying "I'm with stupid" and with his pants falling down, showing his underwear.

Girl in snow

 

Ambiguous

In my e-mail:

You have been selected to receive this ticket because you are entitled to government funding maybe. The US Government must find recipients in order to distribute over $360 billion dollars to organizations and private individuals.

What's that "maybe" all about?

The Chicago way vs Albany Democracy

I wonder whether the Chicago way has any resemblance to Albany Democracy. In Albany, and in Albany County generally, the Democrats controlled everything. Albany voters voted the straight Democratic ticket every time. I think they are the only county in the US to go overwhelmingly to George McGovern. A sinister Irishman whose name I have forgotten ran the machine. When a house in Albany changed hands, the evaluation--and the taxes--went up. The whole thing was choreographed like a classical ballet. First you got the letter concerning your new evaluation, then you called a lawyer who agreed to "represent" you in appealing the rise. Our fixer, another Irishman, was always off somewhere attending a wake, funeral, wedding, first communion, or barbecue, so you had to keep calling him. When you finally reached him, he said he would fix--I should properly call it "fix"--the assessment for you. This was supposed to make you grateful and turn you into a lifelong Democrat. Every election, a little old man who wheezed and smelled of cigarette smoke came to your door and told you who to vote for. He was completely sincere and meant it but we voted for whomever we pleased. It didn't matter who we voted for. Everyone else voted the straight Democratic ticket. The good thing about the machine was low taxes. The bad things were rotten schools to which no member of the school board would send their kids, potholes, little or late snow removal, no street cleaning, and a host of other deplorable conditions. The good thing was low taxes. Loyal Democrats were given low-paying jobs around the city and were appropriately grateful for them. The elevators at City Hall had actual elevators run by city hacks, years after all the other elevators in the world were automated. Free turkeys and baskets of food were delivered in poor neighborhoods at Christmas. Our mayor was supposed to be very smart and came from a distinguished family. The story went that he could have risen to the House or the Senate, so distinguished was he, but he Had a Mistress, which disqualified him. He came to politics poor and left rich, albeit in a pine box, despite earning about $5,000 a year. I guess he was lucky in his investments. I thought he was an egregious ass. My daughter, a fifth grader, wrote him a letter requesting pay raises for firemen. He sent her a pompous reply as if she were a grownup, but not too bright at that. This all happened a long time ago and I'm sure everyone in Albany County is completely honest and trustworthy at present. Like Chicago. But with lower taxes.

Mother and dad

 

I'm sure I posted this once before. I love the picture, though.

I wish my mother and dad had had more pictures taken of themselves. Dad didn't because he was always behind the camera, and mother didn't because she was waiting until she lost a lot of weight to have her picture taken. She actually cut pictures of herself out of family snapshots. I wish she had stopped wishing to be different and accepted herself as she was. Wasn't it enough to graduate from law school before she was old enough to practice law? To be an attorney whose clients loved her? To know every policeman in Columbus, OH? To be married to a handsome guy?

Nope, she was never good enough. Mother told me that her parents never praised her and her brothers. Never kissed or hugged them. Bubbe, particularly, was sparing with kind words. Sarcasm she had plenty of, though. Her tongue was a knife that cut two ways. Her children and grandchildren had to be perfect. Since they weren't perfect, she was never satisfied. The boys didn't seem to mind, but mother felt she could never measure up.

The weight thing came down through the generations and has driven all us granddaughters crazy. I am the fattest of the bunch. The rest are the type of skinny woman who eats seven grapes and four almonds for lunch. Only one of her grandsons had trouble with his weight, and that was my brother the genius. However, he could drown his sorrows in mathematics.

Good work, Seal Team 6!

What an exciting story! It was like a Daniel Silva story, only real.

The gingham dog and the calico cat

Does anyone remember that little ditty? I read it when I was a child. The gingham dog and the calico cat had a fight, and when it was over they had eaten each other. Does this remind anyone of Gingrich and Romney? 310 million people in the US, and not one Republican with a brain. Welcome to Obama's second term, thanks to the stupid party.

Irksome

It's been that kind of day. Just when I thought I had Mr Charm's affairs settled and am taking a much needed vacation in California, irksome stuff happened, and I was strongly irked. I respond to unpleasant happenings in weird ways. First, my hair starts to fall out. Don't laugh--the vacuum cleaner is picking up oodles of hair these days. I am going to have to ask Donald Trump for the name of his hairdresser soon. As an added bonus, my stomach gets upset. I react to this by taking so many Tums every day that my osteoporosis has been cured--a miracle. Of sorts. PS: Though my stomach is upset almost every day, I don't lose any weight.

Fifty years ago

 

Annoying letters

Why do letters you have to deal with come late on Friday afternoon, preferably before a Monday holiday, leaving you with the whole weekend to stew about them? I got a deeply mysterious letter from the IRS, declaring that I did not file a return for 2010. Or something. Of course I did, and got a refund from the State of Delaware, if memory serves. I used TurboTax, the service so beloved by unindicted co-conspirator Tim Geithner. Anyway, it is not clear what the letter means; either they owe me money or I owe them some. Or not. Also, they need a new cartridge in their(the IRS)printer. The letter is hard to read. Now I'm starting to worry. There is a streak of incompetence running through my family which makes its way straight into my brain. I am okay in normal circumstances; I misplace theater tickets, get lost easily, and don't recognize anyone I know. I find it a real challenge to change the cartridge on my printer, and as for checking the oil--don't ask! Add a death in the family, Mr Charm's illness, Medicare, lawyers, and sore feet, and I am reduced to a blithering idiot. So--what's this all about? Well, it's sort of an apology for letting down my faithful readers, who are probably sick of all the dreck I am posting, and deserve better. I'll try to cheer up, really I will, and I hope I shall recover my wits.

Red light madness

Red light madness I got a red light camera ticket and I was hopping mad.  So I did a bit of research on Google, and now I'm really mad.  It turns out that this "service" is not local.  The company which administers the program writes the ordinance which is passed by a local political body, a minimum number of "violations" are guaranteed to this company, the company --not a local police department or elected officials--sets the lights and camera up, and the cameras are timed to increase the probability of catching motorists.  How about this nugget:

Nestor, the company we have outsourced our red light law enforcement to has collected ~ $4.7 million in 3 years. That money we will never see again, and we just shipped it right out of Delaware’s economy and into a private firm. Previously, when you got a ticket, it at least went to the State. It could then be used for police salaries or highway repair. But not in this case.

Apparently Nestor does not do as good a job in ordering their own affairs; they are going bankrupt. In my own case, the photograph shown on the citation is incorrect, in that it does not show the green left turn arrow which I and several other cars are obeying. The tone of the letter itself is nasty and intimidating, clearly designed to threaten those who don't knuckle under and pay at once. Shame on you, Delaware! Is this the way to treat citizens?

It's never too late...

for divorce.

At the movies

I just saw the movie, "The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo."  I won't reveal the plot, because I don't want to ruin it for those who enjoy graphic depictions of rape and torture.  But I do have some observations.

The movie takes place in Sweden.  You can tell this because the entire cast speaks fluent English with a Swedish accent.  This is understandable, because if they spoke Swedish we wouldn't understand them unless there were subtitles.  This is not the kind of movie suitable for subtitles.

It is always snowing in Sweden and looks awfully cold, but no-one buttons up their coats.

Clearly tall thin people are better than short fat people.  They are good, honest, and virtuous.  Overweight people have rotten, even criminal,  characters.  Guys with potbellies are particularly obnoxious.

Out in the country, only one car is allowed on the highway at one time.  If you want to go somewhere and there is already a car on the road, you have to ride a motorcycle.

If you have a Jewish given name, like, say "Miriam," you are Jewish.  No exceptions.

My first car

Iowahawk posted a picture of himself in a little red wagon. Well, this is my first car. It was red, too.  Neeneer, neener, neener.

Joy!

oh-oh.

Years ago, President Carter sought wisdom from his teen-age daughter, Amy, and mentioned this in a half-baked speech.. Shortly thereafter he was relieved of his job and sent home to deal with his peanuts.  I thought we were through with that sort of thing.  I don't recall President Clinton seeking advice from Chelsea, or Bush II consulting the twins about foreign policy.

But the current incumbent quotes the insights of his teen-aged daughter, Malia, so teen wisdom is back.  He uses Malia's remarks as a jumping off point for some meaningless, banal  psycho-babble about change.

Can we send him back to Chicago?  Please?  Real soon?

The end of the world?

The end of the world?  Why would anyone give any credence to anything said by the Mayans?  They were a disgusting group of people if there ever was one, practicing human sacrifice and probably poor dental hygiene as well.  Why do you think the Spanish were able to conquer them?  The other tribes cooperated with the Spaniards, probably having gotten good and fed up with the Mayans sacrificing their members.

Just because people lived primitive lives a long time ago and are now extinct does not give them a Get Out of Jail Free card. Some indigenous tribes were pretty rotten in their day.  Good riddance to them and all their works.

A sad loss

I just finished reading Grant's Final Victory, about President Grant's last year of life.  It was truly a heroic year.  Having been swindled out of just about everything he owned by men he had trusted, Grant determined to  write and publish his memoirs so that Julia, his wife, would have enough money to live on.  Grant had esophageal cancer and knew he had not much time.

Grant's illness was extremely painful.  In the end he could no longer speak.  But day after painful day, he worked on his memoirs.  When he had finished them, using his last ounce of strength, he died.

I'm having trouble...

with Blogger, and am really mad at myself for being such a knucklehead about computers that I don't know how to fix it.  I'm using the new version of Blogger, because the old one is actually worse.  I can't link!

Went to see the lawyer today, and he gave me a ton of instructions that will keep me busy for days.  How did I ever have time to work?

I had to replace the sink disposer for the second time.  This is its last chance!  If this one breaks....

Is it possible to take a leave of absence from your life?

Another fine business opportunity

Hi We are register company in Sieria Leone and we deal in different kind of Diamond and we are looking for a long term partner that is willing to buy.If you are interested get back to us with your details as to enable me email you our manifest.

Your Faithfully,

Williams Terry.

 Love those diamonds!

Happy holiday!

One of the decorated tees at Longwood Gardens

snow baby

The joys of 21st century medicine

One of the most frustrating things in modern life is coping with the nuts and bolts of medical practice. The average practice around these parts consists of 35 revolving doctors, a nurse practitioner, and 50 ancillary persons, none of whom can talk to you just then but want you to leave a voice mail message. Just getting an appointment leaves you disgruntled. You don't get regruntled when the day of your long anticipated appointment comes. I read somewhere that the word ancillary derives from the Latin word Ancilla, meaning handmaiden. This is either true or too good to check. On an average office visit, you deal with at least 3 of these handmaidens before the head honcho performs his brief walk-in part, and 3 more before you leave. The doctor couldn't pick out your face in a line-up. Cursory is the word that applies. Clearly they have other patients who are much, much sicker than you and are no doubt busily bleeding to death in another room.

Gas cap of Doom

The other Night at about 6:30,the dashboard of my car issued an ominous warning: Loose. Gas. Cap. I parked the car and examined the gas cap;it looked okay to me, but what do I know? I got back in the car and Again saw the warning: LOOSE, GAS! CAP! So I took it to Sheridan Nissan, even though I knew the service department was closed, in the hope that someone who was hanging around there would know how to fix it. The service manager happened to be there. There was nothing wrong with the gas cap. It was tight. He unscrewed it and tightened it again. I started The car: LOOSE! GAS! CAP! he told me to come back tomorrow and they would fix it.i drove home with the message flashing at me: LOOSE GAS CAP!!!!!. The next day the message went away, permanently.

Helping a struggling business

The state of Delaware wants to give amazon.com a helping hand in building a fulfillment center in Middletown, de. This takes the form of $7.5 million in taxpayer funds. The exact amount is not known at this time, but it involves a$3.47 million grant from the Delaware strategic fund, plus up to $4 million in grant money from the new jobs infrastructure fFund. This would provide the state with 849 jobs! What could be wrong with this? Let's help our infant industries!

Here again

It is only through stubbornness that I force myself to write this.  It is hard to overcome the habit of NOT posting here which has become my default position.  I have excuses, of course.  A lot of legal hocus pocus has been going on; strictly speaking, it is not my personal business, so I won't expand on it.  Then the computer broke down--a good excuse and one I have taken maximum advantage of.

I had the computer set up perfectly; my laptop was jury rigged to connect to my gigantic monitor, speakers, and a mouse.  I haven't reassembled the monster yet; just using the laptop as, of all things, a laptop.  Anyway, there was Thanksgiving.  Then the plumber was   needed.  My right foot developed a sore spot.  Then I turned my left ankle.  My iPhone stopped working.  Something got stuck in the sink disposal unit, requiring another visit from the plumber.  Then the cable television stopped working.  Then I had to take Mr Charm for cataract surgery.  Then I dropped the cordless phone   for the land line and destroyed it. Next, a flat tire.  None of these is a tragedy, they all happen to everyone, but not all at once.

Oliver Sachs says he cannot recognize faces, even of people he has known a long time.  He also gets lost.  I am so glad to learn  that someone else shares these weaknesses with me.  I lived in New Jersey for 28 years and never really found my way around.  Fortunately, I now have a GPS.  I recognize people, sort of, but can't remember who they are, exactly.  After an ahah moment, I recall who they are.  But I am hell on recognizing cars.

I remember my car, in general.  That is, I know it is white, four-door, has a sun roof and a spoiler and a rubber antenna.  I just don't know what it looks like.  So the other day I walked up to a car that looked pretty much like mine, clicked the unlock button, and it didn't light up.  I got in anyway and noted with pleasure that it was cleaner than I had remembered.  Then I looked at the dashboard and discovered that it was a Toyota.  I had gotten into the wrong car!  I quickly exited.  Why does everyone have white cars anyway?  What's up with that?

Midnight snack

When I was a little girl and my father was still living with us, he and I used to enjoy a certain snack together. Here's what it was: a sandwich consisting of a sliced fresh tomato with sugar on it between two slices of buttered white bread. It was delicious! I've been thinking a lot of my dad lately. He died in April. I thought about things we had done together. There weren't that many of them. I remembered how he had taught me to swim and to fish. I remember that he brought me home a typewriter when I was in second grade and found it hard to write cursive. Ad I remembered the midnight snack we used to share. So I got some nice white bread, buttered it, sliced a tomato and put sugar on it, and made a sandwich. It was pretty good. But not as good as it had been when I was a little girl and my father was still living with us.

News flash

From my inbox: it's not too later to sign up for the Delaware DEmentia Conference! THank God!

COmputer trouble

Either the computer or my brain is broken. Still trying to figure it out. All my bright ideas occur when the computer isn't working, and I can no longer remember what they are. One nice thing did happen, though-I sold a painting! My faithful réaders will her more from me anon, when I get Used to this iPad. If ever.

Pitcher and wallpaper

Snow scene

A modest proposal

The State of Delaware is subsidizing a fuel cell plant in a novel way:  customers of  Delmarva Power will pay an additional sum on their monthly bills--perhaps $1.00 a month--for 21 years.

Perhaps the citizens of Delaware might come up with more worthwhile projects that need to be subsidized. Wait--one taxpayer has a suggestion, from a letter to the editor of the local paper:

My terra cotta sewer line just died after 50-plus years of service. This is going to cost a large amount of money that I don't have laying around. So I came up with a solution -- a 5 cent tax on all New Castle county sewer users added to their bills. This could be a one-time tax. Then I can get back to using my sewer line and keep the economy flowing so to speak. Delmarva Power does it. Banks get bail outs. Why would anybody have a problem with this?

Perhaps, when they have finished with that, they might like to upgrade my kitchen?

Occupying the weather

My prediction:  the Occupy (name of Northern city) movement will last until the first, or maybe the second, really rotten stormy day.  When the leaves have all fallen and are being blown around by fierce winds and driving rain, all these people will go home.  Anybody want to occupy Cleveland when the wind comes roaring down from Canada?  Remember the sunshine patriot and the summer soldier.

The ones in Florida, California, and Texas will stay put for a while.

Thief

A few years ago, my elderly uncle, who lived alone and was in poor health, needed an aide to help him with daily tasks.  The family was lucky enough to get Lisa, a graduate student.  She was a wonderful caretaker, caring and compassionate; we all said that she saved Ed's life.

Ed then moved into assisted living, and when he wrote a check, the bank returned it.  He had insufficient funds.  Lisa had emptied his bank account.

But she was such a warm, caring person!

The scenario repeated itself on Long Island, where the husband of a friend of mine found that his home health aide, like Lisa a wonderful, caring person, had stolen the pain pills he relied on for relief of the pain of cancer.

Something similar happened to me.  An aide I hired to help Mr Charm, whom he liked a lot,  was competent and took good care of him.  I wonder how she cared for the gold jewelry and pain pills she stole from me.

It really hurts when someone you like and trust betrays your trust. 

Collecting

I started collecting just after I moved to Delaware. I had a shortage of drinking glasses, so I went to a nearby Good Will store and bought a dozen. I saw a couple of soup bowls I could use, and bought them too. Soon I started collecting things that were of no earthly use to me because I liked the look of them. I now have collections of teacups, pink depression glass, Carnival glass, small figurines, souvenir plates, and music boxes. Objects to appear in my paintings. Oh, yes, I forgot to mention books, which I actually read. Sometimes. Every shelf in the house is full.

Just as there seemed to be no reason to start collecting things, there seems to be no reason to stop, except lack of space, but that's a compelling one. Some of my stuff has taken up residence in the garage, including my grandmother's samovar.

I finally got the brilliant idea of photographing potential subjects for my art work instead of buying them and bringing them home. The pitcher above is something I resisted buying.

So I am the eccentric woman furtively photographing objects on the shelves at a Good Will store near you. Now you know.

Inventions useful and useless

I have been assigned the task of picking out a hearing aid for Mr Charm, courtesy of his doctor.  I've been researching these gizmos, asking people with hearing aids what kind they like best, and nobody has a good word for any of them.  My late father owned several of them and left them all in the drawer.  Apparently the technology is unsatisfactory and they are disliked by users and non-users alike.  Only cable providers are more unpopular.

So I got to thinking about gadgets--which are satisfactory, and which need more work?

Here's my list.  You might have one of your own.

Great inventions:  Flat screen tvs, dishwashers, air conditioning. microwaves, eyeglasses, and above all iPhones all do what they are expected to do and then some. 

Need more work:  garbage disposals, digital thermostats, electric cooktops, hearing aids, Bluetooth devices, and above all, pantyhose.