Queen Mediocretia of Suburbia

Two Reviews: I Am The Night and Roma

I Am the Night
What I expected: True crime
What I got: Family drama

While I was looking for good podcasts, my niece attended a live broadcast of My Favorite Murder, so I started listening to that. My first MFM broadcast did not get to the murder quickly enough. Instead, there was a lot of pre-murder giggling that turned me off, but now that I know to ignore the non-murder silliness I quite enjoy the murder silliness.

A few weeks ago MFM focused on the Black Dahlia murder so they could promote the new I Am the Night TV series, which - and this may surprise viewers of I Am The Night, and also SPOILERS - is only tangentially about the Black Dahlia murder. Instead, it's all about the peculiar family dynamics of one of the primary suspects. Granted, he's the most interesting suspect, but I signed up for murder and I'm getting incest and baby-selling and other lesser crimes, yawn. I think I would have preferred an anthology series in which each episode deals with a different Black Dahlia suspect, because I am four episodes in and I am tired of this weirdo and his family.

Roma
What I expected: a plot
What I got: As Kathleen Madigan tweeted, "#WhatTheFWasThat #WhenDoesItStart #WhyStuffedDogHeads"

Had I known there was no plot to Roma I would have watched it with a completely different attitude. Instead, I kept checking my watch, thinking the plot was going to kick into gear any minute now. There's an earthquake an hour or so in, and I felt relieved, because now we were going to see how the family deals with the earthquake, but no, fooled you, this is the director remembering an earthquake and making it look lovely and striking and black and white.

And it wasn't even episodic like Huckleberry Finn, where Huck and Jim wander toward the resolution of a conflict. They're on the river to get Jim to freedom, and Jim [SPOILERS! And HOW DO YOU NOT KNOW THIS EVEN MY NEWLY INTEGRATED HIGH SCHOOL HAD TO READ IT] is re-enslaved and then freed at the end.  Of course, maybe it's more like War and Peace, my favorite Giant Slice of Life. Still, in both of those books, the characters end up someplace different from where they started.

I don't know. Maybe I should watch it again without expecting a plot or a revolution or an earthquake.

Art Careers

A friend with an artistic teenage daughter reports that she’s considering becoming a video game artist.

I couldn’t help but smile when I imagined myself in her place, a teenage girl, being paid to draw the ladies below: 

“If it were me, I couldn’t do it,” I said. “I couldn’t make my hands draw those bodies.”

I mean, I already know the insecurities that exaggerated comic book bosoms gave me in the late 70s. “MY cleavage doesn’t touch in the middle! MY nipples aren’t that high!” Can you imagine having to not only look at but draw video game bosoms every day?

Noom, Huh.

Noom has been advertising all over the news channels, and now the demographic oracles on Facebook have decided I am in need of a diet, and they sent me this Facebook ad:

Noom claims to help you lose weight with a combination of "small bowls and psychology." I looked closely at the image to see what psychological mind games they are playing.

Most of the foods look barely edible - whole wheat bread and greenery - looks like cream cheese, pesto, bell pepper, baby spinach, basil, and some ornamental shrub there in the middle.

But the foods on the left top and bottom are, if I am to believe my eyes:

An open face sandwich of whole wheat topped with unpeeled limes and unpeeled avocados.

An open face sandwich of whole wheat topped with five pickle spears.

Is... is this the psychology? "Next to the whole wheat bread and lawn clippings, that cream cheese and okra looks delectable." 

 

 

Calypso: a Review

Usually, after I read the latest David Sedaris book, I am amused for a day or two. This last one, Calypso, gutted me for a day or two. Or, more like a week or two, since I'm still thinking about it.

Calypso is the one I ordered in German. A reminder: “Tiffany ... Cool. Stoned. Hacke. Durchgeknallt.” (It's notable that the first words I read were about his sister Tiffany.)

After I got the English version, I started reading, expecting the usual David Sedaris book. I had already read the lovely essay about the fox: that was typical fare. I wasn't prepared to have him bump up the stakes in Calypso.

Did you think you knew the Sedaris family from all the other books? No. You might have had a few hints, but no, not really. There are some just gut-wrenching revelations. And he crafts it and weaves it in so skillfully. It's remarkable. There's a theme. And who knows, there might have been themes in all of his other books, but those themes didn't resonate with me.

You might think you know me, too, but I have my own “Tiffany” about whom you hear very little. I don't know if I could ever be as frank about that as he is. Maybe someday.

Again, go read Calypso, a real memoir instead of this craven blog.

Embarassing Bezos Photos?

So, Jeff Bezos has out-balled the National Enquirer after they threatened to publish "embarrassing" photos. Were I in the same situation, even minus the Bezos billions, I wouldn't have given in to that blackmail either. Because they had nothing.

Here are the photos the Enquirer threatened to publish:

"· Mr. Bezos face selfie at what appears to be a business meeting."

Is it a naked business meeting? How is this a threat?

· Ms. Sanchez response — a photograph of her smoking a cigar in what appears to be a simulated oral sex scene.

I could see this in any cigar advertisement in any magazine.

· A shirtless Mr. Bezos holding his phone in his left hand — while wearing his wedding ring. He’s wearing either tight black cargo pants or shorts — and his semi-erect manhood is penetrating the zipper of said garment.

Okay, I'll give you that one, that would be embarassing. If I were him I would hang my hopes on the word "semi." I'm betting it's entirely floppy. There's something fishy about how they described it as "penetrating the zipper," as if they needed to give it some imagined firmness.

· A full-length body selfie of Mr. Bezos wearing just a pair of tight black boxer-briefs or trunks, with his phone in his left hand — while wearing his wedding ring.

So, he's essentially in his underwear, while married. Is the point of mentioning the wedding ring to undermine his contention that he was having the affair while separated?

· A selfie of Mr. Bezos fully clothed.

Shocking. I must delete all the fully-clothed selfies from my phone this minute.

· A full-length scantily-clad body shot with short trunks.

Is he supposed to be ashamed of this because it might get him thrown out of McDonalds?

· A naked selfie in a bathroom — while wearing his wedding ring. Mr. Bezos is wearing nothing but a white towel — and the top of his pubic region can be seen.

Naked selfie? You aren't naked if you are in a towel. Look up naked. I'm pretty sure. And Michael Phelps opened up the top of the pubic region for public consumption years ago.

· Ms. Sanchez wearing a plunging red neckline dress revealing her cleavage and a glimpse of her nether region.

... and ...

· Ms. Sanchez wearing a two-piece red bikini with gold detail dress revealing her cleavage.

So they will show photos of his girlfriend in clothing that she purchased and then wore in public. I don’t get how this is embarrassing. Also, am I to assume the neckline plunges down to her nether region? In addition, why does she only have one nether region when the term I have always heard is “nether regions”? 

Minus the semi-dick pic, none of that would even embarrass me. And given that they've already published the revelation that there is a full-dick pic, why did they think a semi would give him the fantods? They can't publish either photo without blurring it, so one blur will be smaller than the other.

I thought Jeff Bezos was a baller, but he isn't making a big noble sacrifice here, at least this time.  

Emergency Alert

This is what the Emergency Alert test in my area looks like:

Two colors. Fixed width. Old school. Shit is going down, people, no time for graphics or kerning. 

That’s why I was surprised to see this on my screen when I heard the familiar sounds of the Emergency Alert system ths past week:

It’s the CBS-specific version of the Emergency Alert graphic. Evidently, CBS feels that a graphic that evokes a city burning down is enough to make us perk up and pay attention. It's interesting that "This is a test of the" is in a smaller font. So, when it is a real event, what happens? They leave off the top line? Perhaps the letters are red too?

I'm concerned that people are going to become habituated to the above EAS message, because the graphic is too much like a commercial. That, and because there have been a number of false alerts in this new-fangled Emergency ALERT System - six in twenty years, as opposed to the original Emergency BROADCAST System, which plugged away for over thirty years with just one mistake. Which sounded like this.

It's all too easy to ignore. The tornado sirens go off once a month. so we ignore those. Even the Emergency Presidential Text Alert they debuted this past October sounds too much like an Amber Alert.

I think they should do what the cable company did when there was a tornado three miles from my house: make the screen go black and only show only the block printed words "THERE IS A TORNADO IN YOUR AREA. TAKE COVER IMMEDIATELY." No weather reporters anymore, no map, nothing to see but the marching orders.

I fear no one would listen unless all the TVs and all the iPhones and all the Applebee's digital menu screens went black with all-caps white letters that say "THIS IS NOT A TEST."

 

Further Vindication

So, about a dozen years ago I told my friends about a Clydesdale mass murder that had happened in the 1980's, and was ridiculed, but was eventually - partially - vindicated.

You'll notice the vindication above doesn't come with a newspaper citation, though. Every once in a while, when I think of Clydesdales (as one does during the SuperBowl), I go scouting the internet to see if I can find a 1980s article about the crime. I usually can't, and I assume that's because the Busch Family owns this town and all its newspapers.

Well, here's an excerpt from a New York Times article from the mid 70s, four years before the one I recall:

ST. LOUIS, Oct. 9 (AP) — Vandals armed with a high‐powered rifle shot and killed a pregnant Clydesdale mare yesterday. The mare had produced several colts for the Anheuser‐Busch Inc. brewery's famed eight‐horse hitch teams.

Veterinarians were unable to save the unborn animal that the 18‐year‐old mare Peggy Lyndale was carrying. Three other mares were wounded. The incident occurred on the Budweiser brewery's Clydesdale breeding farm in St. Louis County.

See that? Years earlier, when I was in high school there had been another Clydesdale murder, and an attempted mass murder at that. And, this is pretty scary: it was done with a high-powered rifle. Watch out. Clydesdale serial murderer is still at large.

Posts: Where Are They Now? An Update On Three Recent Posts

Pie Crusts - Four pies ago the gods cursed me and I had a massive systemic failure. Three pie crusts ago I made an ideal quiche. Two pie crusts ago, I doubled the recipe, but neglected to double the flour. I tried pre-baking that, and you can imagine my dismay when I pulled it out of the oven and found butter-shortening soup in the bottom of the pie tin. Then this past week I tried to make a cherry pie and forgot the salt in the crust. That was vile. Gary won't even eat it. He has the grace to 1) keep it in a bowl on the counter and not just pitch it in the trash and b) encourage me to try a chicken pot pie next. Instead, I made another one apple pie last night - which I overbaked.

Gary Cheating - Gary and I played our game by the book, finally, and he exclaimed it's much more fun when you play by the rules. It's also much muuuuuuch slower. We played three hours and moved two spaces because every detail had to be researched in the rule book.

Elevator - I spoke to some people who have hired on in the last ten years and they say "Ladies first" is no longer taught in orientation. In fact, they laughed at the idea.

I Need to Try Some of this Beer Beverage People Speak Of

So, at the moment I am writing this (8:30 CT Saturday night) the currently current, regrettably Democrat Governor Northam of Virginia has (let me check) decided not to resign because he does not recall having posed in blackface as shown on his yearbook page, and claims now that he is not the man pictured. I understand he spent today calling old classmates to see if any one of them could jog his memory (or take the fall for him, she muttered cynically, rolling her eyes).

Here is an interesting excerpt from this article:

Beneath the photo, Northam lists his alma mater and his interest in pediatrics and offers a quote: “There are more old drunks than old doctors in this world so I think I’ll have another beer.”

This, after Supreme Court Justice Kavanaugh indignantly employed the Beer Defense, made me think: "Damn, maybe I should give beer another try.  It seems to be the favorite of successful politicians. Like, they defiantly adore this stuff. Like it fucks you up enough to sexually assault women while wearing blackface, but it makes you a 'man of the people' at the same time."

I mean, I don’t like beer because it tastes like flowers. (Really, people, don't drink flowers. It is wrong.) I did not realize until this last scandal that it has hallucinogenic properties and a Get Out of Jail Free card that goes with it.

 

This Must Be A First

I’ve been telling everyone that i’m working at home because it’s just too cold, and it is: the wind chill is below zero. I am taking their word for it. I didn’t leave the house yesterday and I won’t be leaving today.

Signs it is cold:

• The weather forecasters are telling us the temperatures at which antifreeze freezes.
• Schools and businesses are closing.
• Only one raccoon ventured out of his den last night.
• The U.S. Mail delivery has stopped in some parts of Missouri. They say Kansas City is still delivering, but I don’t know yet about Saint Louis. I’m fine if they skip it: I don’t want someone to die so I can get the direct-to-trash grocery circular.
• CNN says if I’m outside for five minutes I will get frostbite.
• I saw that there was a layer of ice on the inside of the window frame. I thought at first that perhaps a rubber window gasket had frozen and broken like an O-ring, but what’s actually happened is that the metal window frame is so cold that the interior side is ice cold as well, and the scant humidity in the house has collected into a block of ice in the interior.

What’s awful is that it is worse in Chicago and Minnesota. What’s worse is that some people think that ours is the only hemisphere on the globe and use this as a global ”waming” rebuttal.

Hot Cocoa Limbo

Last week Baby was cold, so I thought I would serve up some hot cocoa. This thought came to me at the grocery. I thought I'd pick up some packets of Swiss Miss instant cocoa.

I know, I could make my own, but I wasn't inclined to buy dry milk and sugar and cocoa and make my own mix and then have to store it. I didn't know the difference between hot cocoa and hot chocolate at the time. (Here's the difference: one is heated wet cocoa powder and one is a heated wet chocolate bar.  YES, I know, it seems obvious now.)

So I went to the far reaches of the store to find the hot cocoa. Powdered drinks - no, just Koolaid. Coffee? No - just K-cups of hot cocoa. K-cups that will fit in my Nespresso machine? No.

"How do kids today make hot cocoa?” I wondered. “I know they don't make it from scratch."

I never worked out the answer. I called an audible and bought chocolate milk and heated it up in the microwave. Tasted hot and chocolate.

Of course, that left me with too much chocolate milk. I got the bright idea to put it through the cappuccino milk frother. It came out hot and foamy and utterly tasteless. Peculiar. I'll have to start using it on my granola, instead.

That was last week. This is the east side of the same store this week:

And here is the west side:

I should have bought some hot cocoa when I saw the hot cocoa aisle and hot cocoa armoire, because evidently this is the week the hot cocoa Brigadoon is visible, and it will disappear next time I want to find it.

This Russia Thing with Trump and Russia

The recent Buzzfeed kerfuffle made me question some fundamental assumptions we are making in our house.

Of course, in this house we think Trump is guilty (guilty guilty guilty, as they said in Watergate). However, I did react to the initial Buzzfeed accusations by calling for evidence, which didn’t go over too well with Gary.

“EVIDENCE? HE IS GUILTY WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?”

And then, of course, Mr. Mueller stepped in and flopped an icy wet blanket over all the impeachment talk.

It made me think - and question - why are we so sure, in lieu of evidence, that he did something underhanded to win the election, like conspiring with Putin?

Like the conspiracy theories that still bedevil the Kennedy assassination: it’s unthinkable that something so earthshaking could happen if there wasn’t an earthshaking cause.

Some pipsqueak murders a president? No way, had to be the Russians/Mafia/CIA. 

Some pipsqueak becomes president? No way, had to be the Russians. 

Scary thoughts. Can’t talk about them with Gary, though. Not going to be a happy house here for the next few years.

Vacation Urge

The people at Viking River Cruises are sending me one brochure a week. I am only a little tempted.

    1) When I think of Vikings and bodies of water:

2)    Were I going to spend seven grand on a European vacation, I would rent a car and plant myself in one city and do it up right.

Instead, I read Facebook posts like: "I didn't want to shovel out my car so we went to Mexico for three days instead" (followed by photos of Tulum), or "Baby was cold" (followed by photos of the couple in shorts on a plane).

I started to wonder, "What would it cost to go to some cheap all-inclusive place on the spur on the moment?"  I was researching that when Gary burst into the room and said we needed to schedule a high-energy vacation next, since the new meds are working and he no longer sleeps all day.

That's not going to happen, though. Well, it could happen. Nah, it's not going to happen.

(Could happen.)

Snowpuppy / Snowgiant

Last week's snow was perfect for packing. There were several excellent snow sculptures on my drive to work.

(Not my photo - it was taken by Friend #4, who lives nearby.)

I took this photo - even though I took it a week late. The snowman below was originally ten feet tall. They must used a ladder to add the head. The warmer weather melted off a third of its height, its hat, and the facial details.

There was supposed to have been another snow storm yesterday, but it fizzled out.

Volatility

I distinctly remember the 2008 crash, because it was my first year working at a financial firm. I remember the groan that went up after every closing bell when we - and we were just the support staff - realized how much the market fell.

I was particularly excited by the prospect that they would throw the "circuit breaker," which happens when trading is halted because too much money has been lost. I find the idea very comforting. The market can't lose 30% in a day. Sure, it can lose 6% a day for six days in a row, and then we're all screwed, but not all in one day.

Since 2008 they have changed the circuit-breaker rules. Now, If the S&P loses 7%, trading halts for fifteen minutes.

So I have decided (and this is just for me, this isn't advice) that I am going to stop looking at the lower right corner of any news channel on volatile days. Dow drops 1,000 points? Don't care. Wake me up when the S&P drops 150.  Anything else I'm just going to write off as political instability leaking into the market.

Golden Globes

Outrage

It seemed to me that the opening did not go over well. Granted, I had Gary's commentary undercutting every joke. It seemed as if they made jokes and nobody laughed, then Sandra Oh got serious about diversity and one person guffawed. I watched it again later without Gary and it seemed to go well. However, Twitter was outraged that there was a joke about exhuming Freddie Mercury's dead body while his family was in the audience.

I get outraged at work every time two people converse while someone else is giving a presentation. If you want to have a work meeting, go out in the hall. As you can imagine,  the Golden Globes makes me crazy every time they come back from commercial. The association's president,  Meher Tatna (Myhair Topknot) was discussing murdered journalists, while Emily Blunt was finding her seat and someone else was  waving at a friend.

Injustice

Bill Hader did not win Best Actor / Comedy. 

Benedict Cumberbatch did not win for Patrick Melrose.

The Kominsky Method won over the Good Place and Barry. (I saw the first episode. That was a comedy?)

Justice

The Americans won Best Drama.

Olivia Colman won Best Actress for The Favourite.

A Star Is Born did not win much of anything.

New Game

For Christmas, Gary and I bought each other board games.

The latest edition of Arkham Horror has been out of the box for two days. Here is my review.

I spent 90 minutes unpacking it, sorting, shuffling, organizing, learning fifteen different types of cards and boards and tokens, and I swear to you, building a little cradle that a certain type of card can sit in (there it is at the top middle).

Then we gave up because it was too late to play.

Yesterday morning we sat down to play. We had to do the final setup (15 minutes), then we got ready to play, and then we read step 1, then we had to research all the steps in step one in the rulebook. Then we lost interest. We spent an hour doing that.

"They told you this version is easier than the old version?" Gary squawked. "What was the old one like?"

Last night we each took a rule book and studied for an hour, and after we got our advanced degrees in Arkham Horror, we rolled the dice. After the study sessions, it went pretty well. Gary didn’t like it too much the first four rounds because he had a run of bad luck, but then we kept going after the dice favored him, and soon we’d been playing it for six hours. 

I wish I could tell you who won, but I can’t. Neither of us had won. After six hours. “Oho,” you say, “Something is wrong here.” Nope. It’s hard to win when only two of you are chipping away at it, but we’ll get there eventually, especially since we invested all that time getting up to speed.

Deer Season

About five times this past week I have heard what I thought were fireworks in my neighborhood. "Weird," I thought, "Maybe people stock up on the Fourth of July so they have something to fire off on every major holiday."

Then, I was about three miles east of my house when I heard either a car backfire or a very loud gunshot.

I remembered that while I was looking at wildlife cameras at the Farm Supply shop, I overheard the gun salesman say it was deer season. I did think it was a little late in the year, but then I went home and did research right before bed and I learned a number of things.

However, as I say, it was right before bed. If I am wrong, I am sure someone will let me know. These are the things I think I learned:

1. Missouri has a number of deer seasons, each with its own rules. During one deer season, you can use deer calls and deer lures like food, but those same things will be banned during a later deer season.

2. Sometimes you can use a rifle, sometimes a bow and arrow, and evidently in late December you can only use a musket or something that you load through the barrel. That would explain the loud noises I've been hearing.

3. You can't just walk in to someone's backyard and shoot a deer. You have to ask first, and then if they say yes it's good form to give them part of the deer you killed.  If you aren't sociable, there is an assigned location three miles from my house at the Busch Wildlife Area where you can shoot all kinds of deer without asking.

As I say, it was late and I was sleepy. I guess I will know if I was right if someone arrives at my front door carrying a musket and asking if I want to share some venison.

Favo(u)rite Theater

One nice thing about The Favourite is that it is showing at the snooty theater in the snooty shopping mall. Plaza Frontenac is anchored by the Saint Louis Saks Fifth Avenue on one end and the Neiman Marcus in the other, and between them you can find the movie theater. The theater has the resources to whittle their offerings down to just the four best movies, unlike Gary's favorite theater: the Saint Charles Industrial Warehouse O' Cinemas 18.

I haven't been to the Plaza Frontenac theater with Gary since we saw Schindler's List over twenty years ago. I remember that showing, distinctly, because it's the only time I have been to a movie that got a standing ovation at the end.

Now that Gary's brand loyalty has me stuck seeing only movies that show at the Cinema Warehouse, I miss the sense of community you get seeing a movie in a smaller theater. When we go to the big theater we are often the only ones there, since all the tickets have been bought up on Fandango by people who don't show. Even if you are in a full showing, the acoustics are such that you can't hear any reaction from the other patrons. Unless everyone in the place lets out a belly laugh at the same joke, you forget they're there.

I couldn't forget the other patrons were there at the fancy little cinema because as soon as I sat down I could hear them.  They sounded like locusts, chewing acres of popcorn. Then, I heard them laugh at the mildly comical pre-movie ads that the Big Box Movie Chain customers ignore.

After the ads, the sleepy ticket-taker stood in front of the screen and welcomed us to the movie, asked us to silence our phones, and told us where the bathrooms are. Yes. A human being spoke to us. Compared to the impersonal Corporate Movie Complex with the Fandango ticket-dispensing machine, it was like a Greek Chorus came out and sang a little "Enjoy The Movie" prologue song.

And of course, you could hear everyone's reactions during the movie. There is one potentially alarming scene involving a bunny (THE BUNNY IS FINE ALERT THE BUNNY IS FINE) and I really felt like our audience was going to rise up and storm the screen. There were gasps, followed by shrieks of horror, then THE BUNNY IS FINE. (As Anne said after, no bunnies or ducks were harmed in the making of this movie.)

I almost wish Gary wasn't so loyal. We would be able to see more movies at the fancy movie theater, at the the fancy mall, where we are all humans.

 

Review: The Favourite

At the end of The Favourite, Friend Anne turned to me and said something like, "A movie about three despicable people, and still at some point we rooted for them all."

And then we sat down outside the theater and did research, because we are nerdy girls and wanted to know immediately how much of what we had seen was true. And it would seem while the two women did vie to be the favorite of Queen Anne, it seems the movie exaggerates the physical expressions of their loves and hatreds (no sex, no violence in real life, it would seem).

Mom judged all period movies on her Cake and Costume scale. Howards End was the standard: it had enough tea cakes and costume changes to suit her. This one would not have pleased her, because they re-use several costumes in multiple scenes, AND ... let us just say the one cake scene will put you entirely off cake.

I can see easily why it is being promoted on CNN and MSNBC during every commercial break. You can't watch Queen Anne as she makes impulsive military decisions without thinking of our current petulant despot.

Weird Wordless Fruit

Jerry in Space

This is an article that Technical Father Jerry Lockett wrote while he was a reporter for the Houston Post in 1963. NASA was training astronauts, and he went to the flight school and put himself through astronaut paces.

(Mom evidently annotated the article after the divorce: that's why there's a hole.) 

I've had this article for years, but I only dug it out after I watched First Man and saw the scene where Neil Armstrong tries out the "Human Centrifuge" below.

Not only did Jerry get the byline, he was featured in these two photos that further prove I was switched at birth, because I don't resemble either of my parents.

About four years later he contracted to be a technical writer at NASA. Pretty cool job.

Yet Another Thing That Happened at the Dentist: Bling Crowns

The dental assistant who added my new crown said it was too late to have a Christmas tree or something special added to it.

"Tell me more." I demanded.

Evidently, this is a thing people do. They have the lab add something special into their crowns. She said it cost seventy bucks or so.

I let her know that I would be Googling that when I got home. I was skeptical, but the receptionist backed her up, as did the dentist.

And Google says...

Crown "tattoos" are a real thing.

I followed that link above and I thought a wee red heart might be okay, but it would have to be on the back of the crown, not the front, otherwise people would keep telling you that you had a chili flake in your teeth.

I suppose people with motorcycles often need new crowns.

Fresh Oak Island Hell

The TiVo is now recording an extended version of The Curse of Oak Island, the “Digging Deeper” version. Instead of one hour of nothing happening, you can get three hours of nothing happening.

 

One hour was pushing it already, and now three? I have discovered that I can polish off an hour of Oak Island in fifteen minutes with the fast forward button. By that math, this new "Digging Deeper" episode will take forty-five minutes. No. I can't spend that much time watching people root around in a sinkhole. (Spoiler: it’s a sinkhole.) (Spoiler spoiler: no one on Oak Island will cop to that.)

Wreath in a (Mail) Box

To all the ladies out there with neighbors to impress
It's easy to do, just follow these steps
One - cut a hole in a wreath
Two - put some junk on that wreath
Three - thread that wreath through the box
And that's the way you do it.

(Apologies)

You can’t really tell too well from the photo, but the wreath is looped through the brackets on the new mailbox. I had to search hard for a cheap wreath I could cut in half, string through the brackets, then re-connect with the wire greenery. My Christmas decorating is minimal, but I made an exception. And I could use it for ...

Christmas (wreath on a box)
Hanukkah (wreath on a box)
Kwanzaa (wreath on a box)
Every single holiday a wreath on a box.

Time vs Result

I remember when we first had someone mow our lawn a neighbor made a point to tell us that it only took the service five minutes to finish the whole lawn. We thought that was great. The neighbor thought the lawn company was ripping us off.

The man who built our wall told us the story of a job he did planting a number of trees. The woman who hired him refused to pay him the agreed-on amount because he took only forty-five minutes to do it, instead of the two hours she felt it should have taken him.

When I got my hair cut at a fancy West County salon, my stylist pointed out an older lady who was having her hair done twice in one session. The lady insisted the hairdresser wash it, roll it, dry it, spray it, and then start all over again with a wash, roll, etc. She had fine hair, and she felt she should get as much of her stylist's time as someone with long hair.

Is there a rule that governs these things? When do we pay for time and when do we pay for a result?

 

Things Look Different

The blog is now Spartan! Bare! But, friendlier for the Apple devices.

If you are on a phone (at least my phone), the menu is available though an icon on the top.Also, you have to scroll down to get to the things that were on the side before.

However, the BlogRoll is back. And, it is shorter. If Feedly says you are inactive, I believe them, with some exceptions. Becs, Silk, I know you will return.

I still have to work through issues with some of the photos.

 

Christmas Ornament

Our tradition of buying a Christmas ornament that encapsulates the year has run into a snag. I no longer remember what many of our existing ornaments represent. I look at the tree and think, “Hedgehogs? When did we have hedgehogs, or see hedgehogs? When was it hedgehog year?”

There are many possibilities for this year's ornament. I could get a skunk ornament and tart it up to look like GlamourSkunk. We went to Mardi Gras and Chichen Itza, no doubt those are contenders.

But really, if Toto toilets made a tiny Christmas ornament ...

UPDATED: they don’t, but I found a silver keychain that will do just fine.

Keens

I have had to throw away my beloved old Keen mules. The heels wore down to tatters, after ten years, as you would expect, and I found myself slanting backward when I wore them.

These were the only shoes I could walk in for an entire day free of all foot pain. The expensive REI tennis-shoes hurt my feet more than the beloved Keens.

These are the leather shoes Gary called my "rubber shoes" so often that after five years I became convinced they were rubber and I wore them into the Atlantic ocean and the dye turned my feet black.

I ordered a new pair of Keens from Zappos, as close to the originals as I could find, and discovered that a) they were not actually mules, they were those annoying constrictive semi-mules, and that b) I ordered the wrong size.

But that was a blessing, because I found a gray pair on Amazon that was the only one left in my size...

and then a similar used pair on eBay that didn't show much wear on the heels.

The Keen people better not have changed their formula, let me tell you. I don't know what I will do without shoes.

Sandwiches

I once heard my in-laws say, "Let's go to McDonald's and pick up some sandwiches."

My first thought was,"I don't think I have ever heard them even consider eating at McDonald's."

My second thought was, "Maybe that’s why they think McDonald's serves sandwiches."

The U.S. Courts and Stephen Colbert have argued what qualifies as a sandwich, and now Gary and I have found ourselves on opposite sides of the debate.

He thinks, first of all, that there is such a thing as a "Filet-O-Fish sandwich," which of course there isn't. ("Show me where it is on the menu," I argued. "Look for a McSandwich.") In his view, any construction of carb, food, carb is a sandwich. Yeah, no.

I say these are the qualities of a sandwich:

A  It is constructed of sliced bread, food, then sliced bread. 

B. You have to use the word 'sandwich' to know what it is. Turkey sandwich. Egg salad sandwich.

1. If you know what it is without calling it a sandwich - Po'Boy,  Hoagie, Hamburger, Lobster roll, French Dip - those are not sandwiches. They are Po'Boys and Hoagies and Hamburgers.
2. You can only remove the word “sandwich” only if it can be referred to by its initials. See PBJ and BLT.
3. You may think you've got me here, but an ice cream sandwich is a parody of a sandwich.

Gary tried to argue Point A, and went back to the Earl of Sandwich, and said that he had his meat brought to him on a roll. I pointed out that Gary was not there, that roll could have been sliced vertically instead of horizontally, and that he is only proving Point B, because his example is the earliest instance of something named Sandwich.

Luxotica Hatred

The Luxotica eyeglasses monopoly. I hate them. I hate them as much as I love Adam Ruins Everything.

I just paid three hundred dollars for them to put lenses into frames I already own. Pig Dogs. Pig. Dogs.

Warby Parker next year.Or better yet, and I don't know why I didn't think of this before, I can loosen two tiny screws, pop in two lenses, then screw two tiny screws in again.

 

Thankful

As always, I have a ridiculous number of things to be thankful for.

My job - One of the many benefits to working where I do is that when you achieve a certain age and tenure, you can go on Cobra insurance and stay on it until you are eligible for Medicare. So, an expensive option, but an option that means that in one year and one month, I could possibly retire without worrying about insurance. I won't do it, of course, because I can't fathom spending over half my life without a job, but it is wonderful to have the option if life takes a turn.

My health - Sometimes I have visitors from the Carnival of MS bloggers portal. I want to apologize to each of you for all the "No new lesions" posts. No new lesions, and any old silent lesions are vewy vewy quiet lately. No other symptoms than my gait and balance and bladder and bowels. I did totter a few times the last time I went out to a friend's house, but she was gracious and might have thought I was drunk. Of course, I credit the Gilenya.

My husband - The doctor says Gary is healthier than he was last year. He needs to write a self-help book titled Sleep Your Way to Health and Fitness. Of course, if he keeps listening to MSNBC, the President will send him to an early grave.

And additionally I am thankful for:

Those little razors you can use to shave calluses off your feet
Fage 2% Greek yogurt and Nutrasweet and all of the foods, really
Cats that make friends after three years
Raccoons that poop in trees and not on your patio
NPR and podcasts and blogs and free entertainment in general
Continued life

Make This for Me: Pie Crust Edition

Well, it is almost Pie Season. It is so hard for me to make a decent pie crust. I thought it would be easier because Gary isn't involved any more ("NO THAT'S WRONG TOO MUCH / TOO LITTLE NO"). But, no, and I think the issue is simply how humans make pie crusts. You have to cut the butter in to the flour, coating each pea sized bit of butter in the flour, then add just the right amount of ice water to make it pliable. Then it has to rest in the fridge and that means it hardens in the fridge, and then it invariably toughens while you work it long enough to roll it into a circle.

So let's look at the timeline. You measure the flour, you cut in the butter, you add the water, you roll it out, you put in in the pan.

Now let's devolve it. Starting at the end of the timeline: they can give me finished crusts in the pan already, but they aren't tender. (Also, doesn't involve enough human suffering, which is what you need for a family gathering.) They will sell me a pre-rolled sheet, so I only do the last step of putting it in the pan, but those have very little flake.

I want them to back up to the butter-cutting stage. Here's what I want: Pea-sized frozen butter pellets.

They could be on rolls, like sugar candy, or stored like astronaut ice cream.

Like that, only butter.

You would scrape or scoop the amount you want, then toss them with the flour. Then you would let them sit until they aren't completely frozen, add the water, roll it out and there you go.

I think this could be a thing.

Guster at Delmar Hall

The Guster concert at Delmar Hall was remarkable.

1. It was a general admission concert with a limited number of seats, and Gary and I scored seats: black metal barstools that became torture devices after a few hours. When the concert was done I required a bit of butt massage before I was able to walk.
2. The seats were against the wall. Everyone else stood and danced. Some woman stood right in front of me, so close that she was virtually sitting on my knee. Then, she said something to her boyfriend. I don't know what facial message I sent to her that she picked up on. Perhaps she said, "Why doesn't this woman plaster herself to the wall to give me space to dance?" I only heard his half of the conversation, which was, "Well, you're standing right in front of her, and you're invading her personal space." Yeah, good call there, boyfriend.  Then -- triumph -- they left between acts.
3. Gary ordered a whiskey instead of his standard Bailey's. He taught me how to drink whiskey - did you know you're not supposed to swallow at first? You leave it on your tongue and keep your mouth slightly open so the fumes can escape. Then after the toxic fumes dissipate, you drink it.
4. The sound quality at Delmar Hall is better than the Sheldon and the Pageant, so audiences like it. I don't know how much musicians like it. Both Steven Page and Ryan from Guster made remarks. When Steven Page commented that it seemed sterile to him, I thought he was referring to the black walls. He might have been commenting on the way things sounded up on the stage. I don't know how music usually sounds to a band on stage, but Ryan from Guster said that the sound was "pristine," and that we could probably hear them fart, and that the music was just going out into the audience and laying there.

 And of course, even though they did not play my favorite song, I still enjoyed it greatly.

Glamour Skunk and Drama Squirrel

All summer long, all we got from the backyard video camera was morbidly obese raccoons grazing on nuts and dog food. And truly, most of them are in cow-grazing-posture, which annoys me because I know THEY know they're being filmed. Be a cute raccoon and eat with your hands LIKE I KNOW YOU CAN!

Then suddenly in the last month the video camera has caught two remarkable things. First, after three years of identical skunks, suddenly we were graced with ...

GlamourSkunk!

Seriously, check out this skunk with her peacock tail and the sassy white bands on her legs. I thought she might be a different breed, but no, evidently God just graced her with smoking hot skunk looks.

Then, there was the high drama of the ...

Suicidal Squirrel

I'm not embedding this one, because it's a snuff film. Well, almost. Any possible death occurs off camera, and it's possible he escaped. I doubt it, because he truly seemed bent on ending his life, balled up at the foot of the tree in the pitch dark at 9:30 pm, and then opting for Fight when Flight appeared to be going well.  

Here's the link, and it's up to you if you go there and if you listen to it (I have watched and listened to it about 35 times).

Fun Updates and Kathy Griffin

October was a busy month for fun. Parties and concerts and comedy.

Granted, Patton Oswalt cruelly bailed on the concert he was going to do in December. It's been rescheduled for next spring. Six months! Six months I have to not lose tickets! Six months to remember that I have a concert coming up! (Remember the Pixies?)

However, Guster stepped in and booked Delmar Hall. That will be the third concert I've seen there in a month. Rename it Demographic Hall and give me a brass plaque on my seat. (It's odd that Guster booked the tiny Delmar Hall when only a few years back they sold out the much larger Pageant next door.)

Kathy Griffin did not disappoint. I still remember her show at the Fox. Her show had more substance now that she's caught so much flack for a) ridiculing the president or b) threatening the president. Pick your term: I could go either way. I know the photo was just a joke, but if she can use that excuse to avoid an investigation, then so can an assassin. Or a mail bomber.

It was interesting how she orchestrated it to bounce between the harrowing photo fallout and her standard fare of tales of living next to Kanye West and wife Kim. Kim got more ridicule than Kanye. Are the mentally ill off limits now? Perhaps she has softened.

Anyone who turned on her when she was down got an extra helping of ridicule, including Anderson Cooper and hometown native Andy Cohen. (I rather imagine there was more in store for Andy Cohen that was edited out on the fly.)

It was very confessional, very interesting, and very one-sided (as one would expect). I have to say I want her lawyer if a President is ever bent on my destruction.

 

Playlist

Our company has participated in a walking challenge the past few years. Teams are encouraged to walk 10,000 steps a day per person. I’ve been to two meetings now where half of us were making laps around the meeting room.

If I’m not grocery shopping or pede-conferencing that day, I need to take two extra solo walks. Those go by easier with a musical accompaniment, so I’ve been crafting the perfect 30 minute walking playlist.

Sly - Cat Empire

Timber - Pitbull/Keisha 

Bang Bang - Jesse J/Ariana Grande/Nicki Minaj

Stronger - Kelly Clarkson

Come On Eileen - Dexy’s Midnight Runners

Crazy In Love - Beyoncé 

Celebrity Skin - Hole

What I Like About You - Romantics

That adds up to 27 minutes. I need one more song to round it out. (Also, the Hole song veers too far over to angry. It’s on the bubble.)

Suggestions?

Steven Page at Delmar Hall

We saw Steven Page at Delmar Hall last week. Remember when I went to see Steven Page in 2010, right after he left BNL, and I complained his new group didn't seem to like him very much? Happily, he and his new trio appear to get along famously.

Famously, or infamously, or former famously: it's a topic on his new album, mainly on this new song, Shooting Star. (Skip the ad and listen to the link. It's so well crafted. Every time I listen to it I notice some new turn of phrase or pun or rhyme, and the music cascades into an eddy in my brain. Plus, and most important, I can't find a single error in the liner notes.)

He played old songs along with the new songs. Some old accompaniments have been completely revised. I think Jane is the one that was most changed. 

The crowd was peculiar. Everyone seemed ... polite? Even I sat there with my hands folded in my lap. I saw more than a few people conducting an imaginary background symphony. Eventually, of course, everyone was standing at the end.

I don't know who books the acts at Delmar Hall, but they share my tastes. Squirrel Nut Zippers, Steven Page, and next month: Guster.

 

Fun in the Future

Wednesday the 17th - Steven Page concert. My right hand is twitching just typing that. So excited.

Later this month - Kathy Griffin at WashU. 

December 1 - Patton Oswalt at Ground Zero of Conservative America: the Saint Charles Family Arena.   Santorum gave a victory speech there. Country music concerts play there, because rock music is of the devil and is best played next to the riverboat casino tha is also of the devil. I honest to god don’t know how he’s going to cuss his way through his show, but then the Squirrell Nut Zippers show was labeled all ages and ... wasn’t. 

I am not going to the latest venture by Sixthman, the company that brought us the BNL cruises and the Rock Boat cruise. That venture is Blues Alive At Sea. If you were planning a Mediterranean cruise and you love Peter Frampton, consider it.

i am going to the opera next season, to every show, and sitting in the best seats in the house. Season tickets to the opera! La LA.

Everything Old is New Again, Again: Part the Second - Squirrel Nut Zippers

I lived in a pop music desert in the 70s and 80s, because I grew up with all KMOX all the time until I rebelled by listening to NPR. Somehow, nothing improved after I married,so I missed most of the 90s bands until after they broke up, and that includes Squirrel Nut Zippers. 

Evidently, the founder and the drummer kept the faith for a few decades and assembled an entirely new band touring under the old name. We saw them at Delmar Hall, a wee little venue built right on top of the parking lot where thieves broke into our car.

It was riotous. The founder, Jimbo, shamelessly old, stands center stage while this theatrical vortex of music whirls around him. The banjo player / violinist hops on one foot and kicks the air with the other while fiddling. The bass player flips her double bass over her head and plays it upside down. The horn section doesn’t pause for breath. 

I was particularly impressed by the kicking fiddler, who goes by Dr. Sick, so impressed that I started to worry Jimbo might feel threatened by his raw talent and then Dr Sick would try to wrest control and there’d be a Squirrel Nut Zippers palace coup. 

It all ended when someone got a tuba and they wound through the audience like a second line. Loads of fun.