. . . Still, when he said that derivatives were WMDs, I don’t think he meant this.

A podcast about books, art & life — not necessarily in that order
. . . Still, when he said that derivatives were WMDs, I don’t think he meant this.
Lost in the Supermarket is on vacation this week, on account of neurasthenia. But your faithful blogger wouldn’t leave you in the lurch!
Since tonight marks the premier of the new season of The Deadliest Catch, one of the most awesome “reality” TV shows of all time, I offer up a retro Lost in the Supermarket post: The Imitations of Crab!
My wife & I, meanwhile, will go back to our Tuesday night routine of sushi-and-crabtini in honor of the Northwestern, the Cornelia Marie, the Wizard and the Time Bandit (and evidently a couple of new boats, the Lisa Marie and the Trailblazer)!
What’s a crabtini?
Bet you’re sorry you asked.
See the whole Lost in the Supermarket series
What I’m reading: Antony and Cleopatra.
What I’m listening to: So Still, by Mozez. Because it’s Passover week! And the new Bob Mould record!
What I’m watching: Baby Mama, Bottle Rocket and Funny Face. And the final round of the Masters, which was insanely compelling.
What I’m drinking: Plymouth, Q Tonic and lime. And a whole bunch of kosher wine.
What Rufus is up to: Wagging his tail in his sleep last week, which I take to mean he was having the happiest dream ever. And another Sunday greyhound hike up in Wawayanda State Park! Enjoy the pix!
Where I’m going: Las Vegas next Sunday for a biz trip. None of my usual suspects of biz pals will be there, Tom Jones is out of town, and I refuse to bet on baseball, so this may turn out to be a very boring trip for me.
What I’m happy about: Our seder went off without a hitch and Mom made it safely back to St. Louis this weekend after her 10-day stay. Oh, and we got to see my cousins Lewis & Denise on Saturday (at one of my favorite Thai restaurants, hence the decor in the photo).
What I’m sad about: A friend of mine blindsided me with news that his wife blindsided him with divorce papers.
What I’m worried about: There’s no Q Tonic at the liquor store where I’ve been buying the stuff. Now I’ve gotta start searching some other haunts and begin hoarding it before it goes the way of the New York Sun and every other goddamn thing I really like in this world.
What I’m pondering: What it is about Audrey Hepburn’s in-her-prime beauty that literally makes my eyes well up when I see her in a movie.
For all of you Easter-season Peeps-eaters out there, I give you Peeps Show III, the Washington Post’s annual Peeps diorama contest! Now go microwave one of those marshmallow monsters!
These links are kosher for Passover! (No, they’re not.) Just click “more”!
Continue reading “Unrequired Reading: Apr. 10, 2009”
Longtime/obsessive readers of this blog know that I find The Burger King to be one of the most weirdly compelling ad-mascots of all time. So I’m quite happy to see him get down to Sir Mix-A-Lot (and SpongeBob) in this new ad.
Nicolai Ouroussoff seems to be celebrating restraint in his review of the Standard, a new hotel on 13th St. in NYC:
These are simple but powerful moves. And they are a reminder that enveloping a structure in a flamboyant wrapper is not always the most effective way to create lasting architecture. In the wrong hands, too much creative freedom can be outright dangerous.
With the Standard Hotel, Polshek Partnership joins a handful of other midlevel firms that are beginning to find the right balance between innovation and restraint.
That’s a pleasant change from his past rambles (here’s a good one), so maybe the New Austerity is having an impact on his work.
Meanwhile, this writer for this Reuters article on the MGM CityCenter project in Las Vegas must have had a hard time not chortling when he recorded this passage —
“The events of the last six months have been our Pearl Harbor, economically,” said Bill Thompson, gaming expert and professor of public administration at the University of Nevada, Las Vegas. “CityCenter might be too big to fail. If it opens, it’s a dramatic gesture that says we’re winning, we’re not defeated, we’re on the way back.”
“If it fails, it would be like a second Pearl Harbor.”
— about a 67-acre condo/hotel/casino/shopping mall complex. I think it’s very funny that a professor of public administration at UNLV is referred to first as a “gaming expert,” because it implies (to me) that he’s a compulsive gambler.
While I’m celebrating the fact that my super-tonic doesn’t include high fructose corn syrup, and thus is All Good for Passover, official pal-of-a-VM-pal Andy Newman just published an article in the NYTimes on Passover-kosher food . . . for pets.
We’re not too concerned in our household. Despite appearances —
— Ru is keeping his religious options open.
Late last year, I donated some money to the Chabad house that had taken care of me & my dad the last two Yom Kippurs (here and here). I’d been meaning to do that for a while, but it slipped my mind. After the Mumbai terrorists targeted the local Chabad house for special treatment, I didn’t have any excuse.
My donation led my being added to the distribution list for their weekly e-newsletter, which usually goes out Friday mornings. I skim through most of the contents, but I try to check out the parshah section, which details that week’s reading from the Torah. (For those of you who are unacquainted with Judaism, here’s the skinny: each Saturday morning during sabbath services, the Torah is brought out and a portion of it is read in seven segments. Over the course of the Jewish year, the congregation works through all 5 books that comprise the Torah: Genesis, Exodus, Leviticus, Numbers and Deuteronomy. At least, I think that’s how it works. I’m sure my brother or my mom will correct me on that.)
I’m not a practicing Jew, and if I were, I doubt I’d be part of the Lubavitcher movement, the Hasidic sect that runs Chabad. That said, my experiences with them have been rancor-free; they welcomed me and Dad with open arms and demonstrated zero pushiness or guilt-tripping about our religious slackness.
Early this week, they sent an e-mail about a ceremony I had never heard of: Birkat Hachamah, the 28-year-blessing.
See, because the solar cycle is 365 days and 6 hours, it takes 28 years for the sun to be in the same position on the same day of the week. Today is supposed to mark the anniversary of the creation of the sun, so Jews go out within the first 2 hours of sunrise and thank God for creating the sun. (Read the FAQs; they explain it better than I do. And there’s always Wikipedia.)
I didn’t have time to meet up with the Chabad group this morning to pray. Actually, I didn’t have the inclination to do it. I know the spirit of prayer for Jews is that of community, not solitude, but there are a lot of ways I fail to live up to my heritage, so there you are.
Instead, I printed out the prayer & the psalms, put on my yarmulke, and walked around the block to the area with the best view of the rising sun (which happens to be the yard of a house owned by observant Muslims). And in the chilly morning I read:
Blessed are You, Lord our God, King of the universe, who re-enacts the work of Creation.
What a beautiful, evocative and mysterious phrase that is: “Who re-enacts the work of Creationâ€! How better to characterize the sunrise?
(The psalms that followed had a few, um, problematic sections, mainly the ones about ruling the nations of the world. But hey: I didn’t write ’em.)
Once I finished reading, I walked home, trying my best not to look over my shoulder to glimpse the sun again. Yeah, I failed at that, too.
* * *
In keeping with my half-assed Judaism, I should note that tonight is the first night of Passover. My mom’s visiting for the occasion, but we’re going to have our seder on the second night, because it’ll be easier on us and the dozen or so gentiles who’ll be in attendance. To all my Jewish readers, observant or not, chag sameach!
Here are a couple of neat Passover-related links, a little Unrequired Pesach Reading for you:
Take a three-hour hasidic tour!
Ever wonder why how they make matzo?
Israeli Jews & Arabs can work together just fine sometimes!
Update: One of my coworkers told me that the sun-story reminded him of this old cartoon, the Sunshine Makers:
This isn’t a true 0-fer this week, but it does point out my literary failings, which is what I’m all about.
Last night, it occurred to me that the number of ballparks I’ve visited may be greater than the number of Shakespeare plays I’ve read. I checked out both lists this morning and I’m glad to report that’s not the case:
Ballparks I’ve attended:
Shakespeare plays I’ve read:
I’ll probably see a Braves game when I’m in Atlanta next month, but I also just began reading Antony and Cleopatra, so the deficit will remain at 5. Unless I go on a real Shakespeare binge (which is possible) or get fired and decide to go on that “8 parks in 10 days” tour of midwestern ballparks I plotted out back in 2002 (which is very unlikely (I hope)).
Howzabout you, dear readers? Any of you read fewer plays of Shakespeare than the number of MLB ballparks you’ve visited?
Bonus! NBA arenas I’ve attended: