• Halloween a week early

    Here I am celebrating Halloween at a street party.

    The costume was subtle.

    Still, I would say 10% of the people I encountered got it and commented on it. One asked what my favorite Weird Al song is. (Party in the CIA, of course. The wordplay, it does not stop.)

    Primarily I spoke with the street actors depicting random characters: Mr. and Mrs. Sweeny Todd, The Wicked Witch of the West, and Lizzie Borden, played by the most angelic, innocent-looking woman I have ever seen.

    No wonder she was acquitted.

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  • TWIL: The most expensive signature

    I started my trivia journey in sixth grade, when some relative let me look through their Guinness Book of World Records.

    I remember the same things everyone else does. Worlds fattest twins (riding on motorcycles). World’s longest fingernails. And the world’s most expensive signature, say it with me …

    Button Gwinnett!

    Button Gwinnett signature

    You know him, you love him, Button Gwinnett, signed the American Constitution and died young, leaving relatively few other signatures behind.

    This week I learned that our boy Button is number two, and the winner should be this signature:

    Morris Ggraham? Ma Grasshopper? No, that’s William Shakespeare.

    You would think that W.S. would always have had the title of most expensive, but evidently none of his signatures have ever been traded. The U.K. government seems to have hoarded all of his signatures. So he isn’t even in the running.

    So even though the winner should be Shakespeare, it isn’t. The current record-holder is Steve Jobs.

    By Steve Jobs – Traced from http://www.hirdyman.co.uk/wp-content/uploads/7b0b8f6b3dletter.png.png, Public Domain, Link

    Sold for about half a million dollars decades after I learned of Button Gwinnett. Even though I sense the iPad I’m typing on might not like this, Button still rules on in my heart.

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  • Progress or lack thereof on Gary’s health

    Well, Gary’s been the picture of health on paper. Blood tests all fine, colonoscopy fine, endoscopy fine, CAT scan fine. I mean, there was little stuff, of course. Some bowel and bladder parts were thickened and some had clumps of granulomas, all probably from past infections. Little things that will need to be monitored during his physicals. A hernia or two. Inflammation. Things like that.

    The only things of note came in last night:

    • One test that looked at his pancreatic output was — borderline — too low.
    • One test that looks at his intestinal inflammation was — borderline – too high.
    • One test that looks to rule out celiac disease was — just right. No celiac disease.

    So there we are. Starting to knock things off the list. No colon cancer, pancreatic cancer, celiac disease, or current massive infection. All organ parts look good, and nothing glaring or scary to be concerned about about.

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  • Mom-in-my-head shares her opinions

    Sometime last spring I wanted a bagel. I buttered each half, put them under the broiler, and set the timer for three minutes. I have made enough bagels this way that I don’t even watch any more. I don’t watch, and I didn’t leave the oven door cracked.

    [Mom-in-my-head interjects:] “Always leave the oven door ajar when you’re broiling, Ellen.”

    I relied on the timer, instead, and I came back to a burnt bagel. “Weird,” I said.

    [Mom-I-M-H:] “Oh. Weird? Is it?”

    I sighed and prepped another bagel, turned on the broiler and —

    “Click” said the broiler, and turned off.

    I tried two more times and realized the burnt bagel was the result of a manic broiler element that flamed out in its last throes.

    ”Gary,” I said, “We need to have Sears come out and look at the broiler. It burnt a bagel and then it died on me.”

    Gary: “That’s a sign we need a new range.’

    “No, we don’t –”

    Gary spent two days researching new range technology. And then I was so unenthusiastic about that prospect that he decided to wait for something else to break.

    I tried to use the broiler in the microwave/airfryer/convectiontoaster chimera oven but it just did not bubble the milk solids they way I like them.

    So, half a year, no buttered broiled bagel, and then last week he called Sears and they came out. I described the situation that precipitated the broiler failure.

    He essentially told me you have to leave the door ajar when you broil things. Because — shut up, Mom — BECAUSE otherwise it will overheat. In fact it always overheats, but there’s a shut-off. It clicks, then the element goes from red to black, then it starts up again. And if you leave the door shut sometimes it can’t —

    [M.I.M.H.] “I see, so if a MAN explains it to you …”

    “No, you never explained it to me, Mom, you just said that’s how I should do it.”

    Anyway, I also learned that if you close the door on a steak as it’s broiling you go from broiling a steak to cooking/steaming/broiling a steak, that’s another reason to keep the door open when you are broiling.

    The worst part was —

    [M.I.M.H.] “The fact that you haven’t had a broiled bagel for months even though the broiler was fine as soon as it cooled off?”

    Yes. That was the worst part. But just punishment for defying my mother.

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  • Thursday Paint Progress: 10/22/2026

    This is what it was last week:

    This is what it is now:

    This is what it is supposed to be:

    7B0B89F7-8A41-4222-A219-3FA355399DBC

    I just could not get the blue wash to stick. And I don’t know why every photo I take with this phone warps in one corner. Honestly, just that sky took 45 minutes, and now I have to soften it again.

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  • Christina Applegate does not have MS

    And she is not happy about it.

    If my doctor told me I did not have MS I would be livid. I imagine Christina Applegate wanted to run that doctor down with her wheelchair or start wildly swinging her cane. Just all that time wasted, all that money wasted.

    I just listened to today’s episode of her podcast …

    https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/messy-with-christina-applegate-jamie-lynn-sigler/id1734318382?i=1000797232304

    … where a doctor shared that 20 percent of MS cases are misdiagnosed. That’s utterly insane. On the other hand, usually the actual cause ends up being something similar to MS — so much so that the MS drugs will help with whatever Mystery Illness X you actually have.

    I did wonder how she was misdiagnosed. Didn’t she get an MRI and a spinal tap? And she did, and she had lesions on her MRI and oligodendrocytes in her spinal tap. But evidently, other things cause those symptoms. I think the doctor said migraines can cause lesions and any inflammation can cause oligodendrocyte bands. The trick is to look at the lesions and see if they follow the veins of the circulatory system and have Special Spots. I have no more info than that: if you have Special Spots in your MRI that clinches the diagnosis.

    Last time I saw my neurologist he did point out that my lesions followed my circulatory system. No word on Special Spots. My MRI was so “textbook” they didn’t bother to do a spinal tap. And the drugs are not just helpful, they are spot on. No new lesions. And I have never had a migraine. Pretty sure I’m on the right path.

    But seriously, to find out you’ve told the world you have MS in a PODCAST and then technically you don’t? That would be a nightmare. Still, it’s nice to hear that even if the diagnosis was wrong the treatment wasn’t entirely wasted, just not as effective as it should have been.

    Fingers crossed for a more exact diagnosis for Christina Applegate.

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  • The food meme, revisited

    Man, we were all hard up for content in 2008. We had Memes, and one meme from 2008 was a list of foods we had eaten, foods we hadn’t, foods we never heard of, and foods we’d never eat.

    Here are things I have now eaten, formerly on the forgotten list of untried foods.


    I knocked these off the list around St. Louis and Kansas City:
    5. Crocodile (Some Mexican place in St. Charles) / 33. Salted lassi / 51. Prickly pear / 54. Paneer / 83. Pocky (Friend 4 brought it to Friend 2’s cookout) 85. Kobe beef (Some place on Laclede’s Landing)


    I had to go further afield to try 59. Poutine (Toronto) and 73. Absinthe (New Orleans). And I only had to go as far as the Internet to get 90. Crillo Chocolate.


    But what I find remarkable is how this list from almost 20 years ago predicted what I ate just this month in Chicago at the tasting menu at the three-Michelin-star restaurant:

    50. Sea urchin / 53. Abalone / 62. Sweetbreads … and this is spooky … 84. Tasting menu at a three-Michelin-star restaurant.

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  • Spoiler-free Review: You Can See Everything

    I’m direct and honest. Not by choice, nor by nature. In my youth, all the boys complained I wasn’t open and honest enough. Then in my 30s I got one too many lesions and I found myself blurting my truth uncontrollably. I’m not mad about it anymore, because other people love it.

    But, being honest makes me especially vulnerable to pathological liars … yet also especially sympathetic to them as well. How can I judge? They can’t help themselves any more than I can.

    That’s why I am going to the theater to watch the new documentary about Elizabeth Holmes, if that is her real name, and her imprisonment.


    [watches movie]


    Allow me to echo everyone when I say, Holy shit, that was not what I expected.

    Also, I want a sequel with her parents; that’s what I want.


    [additional thoughts]

    They tell you to see it with an audience. Sadly, my Audience and I were not on the same page. My Audience was sitting next to their boyfriends. My Audience was uncomfortable with showering. My Audience did not get the masturbation reference; my guffaw echoed in the silence.

    I felt some sympathy for Elizabeth Holmes: my Audience was not having it. I’m fairly certain the lad sitting next to me had lost his life savings to the fraud at 12, given how he was sighing and writhing.


    You know, it’s been eight hours now and I just realized that perhaps I shouldn’t trust the editors.


    I took to Reddit to see other takes on it and Reddit is WRONG; that shower scene is not gratuitous; that shower scene explains a lot.

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  • TWIL: Warning labels

    The average financial settlement for the Coldwater Creek radiation contamination appears to take nine months to arrive. They give precedence to people who actively have cancer, naturally. Or they say they do. I think.

    Really hard to believe that they did such a lousy job disposing of radioactive waste (put it in metal barrels and throw it into a creek) compared to how much thought they put into it now. Now they put it in salt mines that will slowly shift and encase the barrels in solid salt.

    But, because those radioactive materials are so far underground and won’t decay for say 10,000 years, they plan for communicating with future humanoids: “Don’t dig here … and if you do, don’t open any barrels you find … and if you do, don’t chug what’s in the barrels you opened.”

    I just found this delightful Wikipedia page on how much thought goes into warning future people that bad things are below:

    Long-term nuclear waste Warning Messages

    Suggestions summmarized:

    • Written message that says “There is danger below here.” traslated into into French, Spanish, Chinese, Arabic, Russian and Navajo. Those signs would be in a circle, and every generation would encircle the previous circle of signs with more signs with updated language.
    • Skull and crossbones imagery
    • A device that makes a spooky whistling sound
    • Spikes. Lots of spikes.
    • Gravel, like the kind on top of the Weldon Spring Site Disposal Cell (where there is also a written sign with a typo warning of “Inclimate” weather; so much for bullet one above.)
    • Cats bred to change color the closer they are to radiation, publicized with “a song, called 10,000-Year Earworm to Discourage Settlement Near Nuclear Waste Repositories (Don’t Change Color, Kitty) … designed to be ‘so catchy and annoying that it might be handed down from generation to generation over a span of 10,000 years’[18]
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  • Best part of the hobby

    While I was Ubering through Chicago, Gary was surfing Amazon and purchasing telescopes, plural, yes, and also lenses and lens-carrying cases and telescope-carrying cases and telescope chairs for when the eyepiece is under the telescope and a mirrored piece that lets you mount a second phone to take a photo of what your navigating phone sees and … and a box of cards to teach you how to use your telescope. He hasn’t looked at that yet, because he is assembling his palette of tools for a successful telescope experience.

    He’s also establishing himself as Telescope Expert, which is a key part of any hobby.

    At no point has he looked through the telescope. Well, he looked through it during the day one time and focused it on a leaf at the top of a tree. Not on Saturn, or the Moon or the Sun. And don’t worry – he has the Sun Filter that lets you look at the sun.

    It’s pretty clear what path this hobby will take. He will set everything up and I will look through the eyepiece and not touch the telescope. But actually, that’s fine. The point of the hobby is the learning, not the doing.

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