Just how do you develop the Mashed Potato Bowl?
Good and Bad
The good news: Official VM just-about-closest-friend-in-the-world Ian just got promoted to Chief Petty Officer. At first, I thought this meant he was quitting the Navy to become a roadie for Tom Petty, but then I realized that it’s actually “the most significant promotion within the enlisted Navy ranks,” according to Wikipedia. I’m hoping it’s accurate, as opposed to this hilarious story from The Onion. So, congrats!
The bad news: One of my uncles in Israel had to flee for the shelters last night. He writes,
The nightmare becomes reality. At about 2100 this evening (Erev Shabbat) the sirens began to wail. Only my daughter and myself were about and we both made straight for the shelter. The siren seemed to go on for ever. After about a minute silence. A few seconds later we heard a distant boom. More like a thud. We waited a few minutes more and emerged unscathed from the shelter.
It seems that three rockets fell in the vicinity of Hadera. No casualties reported so far. Spent the rest of the evening watching Clint Eastwood’s recent masterpiece: “Million Dollar Baby.” It was difficult getting the siren out of my mind. Latest news is that the IAF has taken the launchers out but I assume that they still have more launchers. Ah well, tomorrow’s another day. It always is!
I just finished re-reading the first segment of Gravity’s Rainbow, “inspired” by the rocket attacks. It’s “about” the German rocket attacks on England during WWII, focusing on the V-2 rocket. Since that one flew supersonically, the impact would occur before the sound of its approach. Pynchon’s characters (including several behavioral scientists) are fascinated by this concept, with the way our perception of cause and effect gets reversed.
Of course, in the Middle East, we all have our own problems with sorting out cause and effect.
No one goes to Hooters for wings
BW offers the Worst Brand Extensions.
The one time I dyed my hair (fall 2002), I think I used that Maxim hair color. I can’t remember, probably because the cheap chemicals seeped into my brain and destroyed my ability to retain short-term memories.
Souls on board
I’m about a third of the way through this article about how the northeast NORAD base responded to 9/11. It’s harrowing, and it’s reminding me how different we thought it all was 5 years ago.
Take it to the bridge!
Here’s an article on revolutions in bridge-building, accompanied by a gorgeous little slide show.
Malibu’s Most Wanted
We all say dumb things when we’re hammer drunk, and I think they generally fall into one of three groups:
Maudlin sentimentalities: “I love you guys,” “I could’ve gone pro if I didn’t blow out my shoulder,” or “My life is f***ed.”
Pronunciamentos: “David Duke is right! Who’s standing up for the rights of white men?” “This country will never be safe until we deport all the Eskimos,” or “The Jews are responsible for all the wars in the world.”
Things we say to get into someone’s pants: “Your poetry’s really good,” “I like Radiohead, too,” or “What do you think you’re looking at, sugar tits?”
Which brings us to the case of Mel Gibson’s DUI bust. It was funny enough to see that he’d been busted, but the humor level went through the roof when the report came out about his anti-semitic tirade toward the arresting deputy.
Dan Drezner has a neat chain-of-events that will spin out of the weekend, Chris Hitchens offers a great subhed for his Gibson column (“He is sick to his empty core with Jew-hatred”), the Times has the meta-story about the speed of scandal, and Gregg Easterbrook has a football column up at ESPN.com.
Why mention that last one? Because Disney-owned ESPN fired Easterbrook a few years ago for what were perceived as anti-semitic remarks directed at movie studio owners. I wrote about the situation here and here. For a while, Easterbrook’s Tuesday Morning Quarterback column was carried at NFL.com. It returned to ESPN this season without a comment. At the moment, it’s the lead item on ESPN.com, with the headline “Easter Tuesday.”
Maybe ESPN was just waiting for Disney CEO Michael Eisner to leave before bringing Easterbrook back. Or perhaps Willow Bay was a big fan of the column. The cold medication’s kicking in too strongly for me to make any real point here, but Easterbrook’s been “forgiven” by ESPN (which shouldn’t have fired him to begin with), even if they couldn’t get around to explaining how their interpretation of his comments has changed. Gibson, on the other hand, with his tortured apology, seems to be intent on proving the South Park guys right.
(In the process of “researching” this post, I came across a batshit-crazy anti-semitic website devoted to explaining Jewish ownership of American media. Enjoy.)
No disrespect to the occidentals
Made it back from New Orleans yesterday, but I brought a mean headcold with me. Took the day off from work today, since there’s no way I can drive in my present condition. Just getting down to the CVS and back this afternoon was an adventure.
Given these parameters, expect even less coherence from this blog for the next few days.
Recapping from where we left off: Amy & I had a wonderful dinner at NOLA on Sunday. I was like Reggie Jackson, going for three home runs that night:
Appetizer: Pan-roasted crab cake with smoky eggplant puree, feta cheese, crispy spinach and citrus butter
Salad: Strawberries and goat cheese with baby spinach, toasted pistachios and warm bacon-balsamic vinaigrette
Entrée: “Shrimp & Grits” sautéed Gulf shrimp, grilled green onions, smoked cheddar grits, apple smoked bacon, crimini mushrooms, Creole tomato glaze and red chili-Abita butter sauce
Stupidly, I added the NOLA Buzz Bomb for dessert (flourless chocolate torte with bittersweet chocolate mousse and brandied apricots wrapped in chocolate ganach). We were quite stuffed.
Earlier in the day, my wife went to church with her mom. Her dad stayed home, seemingly intent on passing that headcold on to me (just kidding). I read some Pynchon, tried to nap, and watched Pee-Wee’s Big Adventure, and that’s about as close to religion as I’ve gone lately.
The sermon went on pretty late, evidently, but the highlight of the morning came when they were singing hymns. Amy told me that, during the children’s church segment, they broke out an old standard, the first verse of which is
Jesus loves the little children,
All the children of the world,
Red and yellow, black and white,
They are precious in his sight,
Jesus loves the little children of the world.
“That’s a nice sentiment,” I said.
“Yeah,” she replied. “But then they sang a second verse, which I’d never heard but everyone else knew:
“Jesus loves the little children,
All the children of the street,
English, Irish, Russian, Jew,
German, Jap, Italian, too,
Jesus loves the little children of the street.”
“Did Bill Parcells write your hymnal?” I asked. No disrespect to Orientals. Or Mel Gibson.
As I’ve said, everyone down there has treated me pretty well. Especially Emeril.
Bush Saves New Orleans
Last night, we had CMT’s Hee Haw Weekend Marathon on while Amy worked up a dose of Emeril’s spicy tomato glaze. My parents didn’t watch Hee Haw much when I was a kid, although my dad developed an unhealthy attachment to Willie Nelson in the 1980s (unhealthy inasmuch as he really loved that duet with Julio Iglesias). My in-laws asked if I listened to Buck Owens. I told them I never did, but that Amy was pretty broken up when Owens died this year.
I made my first visit to a Wal-Mart yesterday. Where I live (northern NJ) it’s not a huge feat to avoid them; my grocery needs aren’t extensive and the only store I know of nearby is up in Western Samaria (aka Rt. 59 in NY state). Down here, it’s more of a necessity, especially post-Katrina. I took one step inside and Got It: huge, well-lit venue, cleaner than any of the local markets, good selection of food products. And then there’s all the other stuff: a family passed us with a shopping cart filled with food, back-to-school clothing, and a color inkjet printer. Wal-Mart doesn’t carry everything, of course.
In the “efnic food” aisle, we bumped into Amy’s cousin Wade, whom I last saw during his visit to NYC with his wife. He pines to retun to the city.
I always wonder about how different regions see each other. It reminds me of that scene in Annie Hall, when Woody Allen tells Tony Roberts, “Don’t you see? The rest of the country looks upon New York like we’re left-wing, Communist, Jewish, homosexual, pornographers. I think of us that way, sometimes, and I live here!” But Wade really liked visiting, and no one down here’s given me any crap for, um, being who I am. Even if the housepet is a little judgemental.
The news here is focused on yesterday’s six murders — the murder rate is skyrocketing this year — but the top story is that Reggie Bush signed his rookie contract with the Saints. In the Times-Pic, it takes top billling over a misguided idea to build a “Jazz Park” to replicate Chicago’s Millennium Park.
Tonight, we’re staying in New Orleans at the same hotel we stayed in leading up to our wedding. I’m flooded with memories of last March, and so is Amy. We had a little snack (if that’s possible) at Café Du Monde, and reminisced about the end of our wedding evening. I love being in this city, but I have a hard time imagining how it’s going to recover from the disaster last year. I’m glad we did what we could to boost the economy via our friends’ alcohol consumption.
It’s a Sunday afternoon in mid-summer, so it’s kind of dead outside. I was hoping to get some good pictures, but there really isn’t much to see that I haven’t snapped in past trips. We’ll be dining at NOLA tonight, then getting up earlyish to fly home. If I do manage any good pix tonight, you’ll be the first to know.
Present success is no indication of future failure
In the New Yorker, James Surowiecki tells us to take a chill pill over Airbus’ current struggles.
In 2003, Business Week declared that Boeing was “choking on Airbus’ fumes,†and warned that Boeing’s “slip to No. 2 could become permanent.â€Â
The problem with such prognostications is that they infer basic truths about a company’s prospects from its short-term performance. In fact, present success is often determined as much by context and chance as by fundamental viability. This is particularly true of the aerospace industry, because success is heavily dependent on a small number of big gambles. If you bet right, you look like a genius for a few years, even if the success of your bet was due to factors out of your control.
In the first few seasons after Jason Kidd joined the Nets, he would have two- or three-week stretches of lights-out shooting, leading commentators and sportswriters to announce that Kidd had “turned the corner” and become a good shooter.
Unfortunately, Jason Kidd is a career 40% shooter. All the good runs have been balanced out by below-average runs, leaving him exactly where he’s been since the start of his career: hitting 40% of his shots.
It doesn’t mean he’s not one of the best point guards of the last 30 years; he is. He’s just not a good shooter, and statistical blips are just that.
Dog, hair, etc.
Surprise, dear readers! Amy & I are down in Louisiana, having surprised the official VM mother-in-law for her brithday yesterday! While we did keep it a secret from almost everyone, I’m starting to think we could’ve told them all we were coming, since no one would believe that people would actually come down here in late July.
Because it’s flat-out hot, brothers and sisters. The humidity adds a layer of stank to it, but the heat is just awful. The weekend after I proposed to Amy, we sat down with a 2006 calendar to figure out what weekends we could have the wedding. Our first move was to cross out the 5-month span between mid-May and mid-October.
We’ll spend time in New Orleans on Sunday, and I’m hoping to get some good pictures for your edification & enjoyment.
On the flight down here, I got upgraded to first class, which is always nice. It was a 7am flight, so I was too exhausted to get nervous about the flight. I just got some coffee and read for a bit. My co-first-class-ters, on the other hand, felt that 7am is a good time to start drinking. I mean, I know that the drinks are free in first class, but having a Jack-and-coke at that hour doesn’t seem like a smart strategy to me, unless maybe you’re seeking a homeopathic remedy for New Orleans.