There’s been a death in the family.
Back to posting in the first week of November or so.
Monthly Archives: October 2018
Thursday Detritus
The rains have cleared away, leaving cold air in their wake. This pattern will keep repeating in the coming months, getting successively colder until snow replaces rain and mere cold air is a polar vortex or some such. Bah. At least the trees are coloring up nicely.
An open question for YouTube: how, in the age of digital spying on consumers — so I hear — can YouTube offer me such wildly off-the-mark ads? Lately I’ve been getting a lot of anti-vapping ads, for instance. Aimed at teenagers. Not, I have to add, ahead of much content that that demographic might watch on YouTube. The chances of me taking up vapping are pretty close to zero, YouTube.
Some time ago I picked up a copy of The Shipping News by Annie Proulx (1993) for $1 at Half Price Books. Now I’m reading it. It’s a good read and there are some good lines in it. Here’s one that helps introduce a character:
For the devil had long ago taken a shine to Tert Card, filled him like a cream horn with itch and irritation.
One of the author’s idiosyncrasies is constructions like that, with “filled” instead of “filling.” But you get used to it, and it works. That’s a wonderful sentence that pretty much sets the tone for Tert Card. We’ve all met people like that.
From a press release over the transom the other day, a subject I have no professional interest in. I’m more interested in how the thing was written. I suspect the writer is a fairly fluent but nevertheless non-native speaker of English (all sic):
Businessmen hailing from UAE have an interest in making some investments in Armenia. The trade turnover in between the two countries has risen 10-folks from twenty-five million to about 250 million USD in the last five years as told by Zaki Nusseibeh, the Minister of the State after the sidelines of the ministerial conference of 17th Francophonie summit…
After Ruddigore on Saturday, Ann wanted ice cream. At about 10 in the evening in Evanston, Andy’s Frozen Custard seemed the only place still open serving something close to ice cream. She agreed that was close enough, so we went.
That image doesn’t have many people in it, but not long after we got there, the place was packed. Seems that selling frozen custard late on Saturday evenings near a major university is a pretty good business.
I’d never been to Andy’s before. Turns out there are about 60 of them, mostly scattered around the central U.S., though as far north as metro Chicago and as far south as central Florida. Andy’s makes a good frozen treat. Too good, in fact. I should have gotten a small triple chocolate instead of a medium.
Who did the score for Doctor Zhivago? I found myself wondering that yesterday. Maybe that’s something I should know, but I looked it up: Maurice Jarre.
That came to mind because I’d turned on the TV and DZ was playing. In fact, the very scene in which Yuri and Lara reunited. The Lara’s theme leitmotif was part of the action. I watched about 15 minutes of it.
“What’s this movie about?” Ann asked. I had to think. It’s been how long since I’ve seen it? In the summer of ’81 at the Texas Union Theatre, or in Japan in the early ’90s, when I saw so many movies on VHS? Either way, over 25 years ago.
“Well, let’s see. Doctor Zhivago, that’s him there, Omar Sharif. He’s a doctor of course, and he has a wife. He likes her well enough, but he really loves this other woman, who’s on screen now. I don’t remember who played her. Anyway, there’s a love triangle and they all get caught up in the Russian Revolution and are often in danger. Bolsheviks show up. Zhivago’s also a poet and sensitive fellow. He spends a lot of time looking off in the distance. And there’s a lot of scenery. Wide shots of the steppes of Russia. It’s an epic of a movie. Did I mention that it’s over three hours long? It’s an epic of epic proportions.”
Despite my flip description, I remember liking the movie whenever I saw it. Odd how details of most movies you see or books you read or music you hear or places you go tend to evaporate over the years, leaving a residue like the one I told to Ann.
Never have read Pasternak, so I don’t even have a residue of the book. Maybe I should, but life is short and Russian novels are long. The most recent one I read, a few years ago, was August 1914. Pretty soon into it, I gave up trying to keep track of all of the many characters.
Maurice Jarre, I learned, is the father of Jean-Michel Jarre, known to me for Oxygène. Back when people had record collections, there was always one kid on each floor of each dorm at your college who had unusual records, things no one else had ever heard of. I can’t remember the lad’s name, but he was on my hall freshman year, and that was one of the records he had.
More October Scenes
Heavy rains today, but nothing like the Florida panhandle’s getting. Looks like heavy damage in the area.
I have some fond memories of the likes of Seaside and Apalachicola and Port St. Joe. I even think we stopped for lunch in Mexico Beach, which is where Michael’s eye came ashore today. That town is essentially a cluster of buildings along US 98 as it runs next to the ocean. Mexico Beach might not be there any more.
Here in the North, geese forage for food in the suburbs, making their noise and leaving their droppings.
Halloween decorations are going up. I haven’t spotted many inflatables, which is a welcome reversal of that trend. A deflating of it. Most of the decorations don’t involve lights, but there are a few on our block.
This particular house has always been decked out for Halloween, including the faux cemetery. The residents have never been inclined toward inflatables.
October Scene
Yesterday and today were unseasonably warm. They were also a Monday and Tuesday, so I didn’t have a lot of time to lounge around on the deck outside and enjoy it. In theory, I could take my computer outside and work there, but the charms of a warm afternoon are distracting when there’s laptop work to be done, and the screen can be hard to see.
But I did have a few minutes in the afternoon to look up at the sky.
That’s to the southeast. The puffy mass was moving fast and left my view pretty quickly, replaced by grayer clouds that dropped some rain about 30 minutes later.
Does the dog care about the weather?
Who can say? But when the wind is up, she does sniff vigorously.
Ruddigore
On Saturday, Ann and I went to see Ruddigore by the same troupe that did The Pirates of Penzance last year, the Savoyaires, who do their shows at a junior high auditorium in Evanston. Musical direction by Timothy Semanik, stage direction by Kingsley Day.
Except for the hard seats, it was a good time. I understand that the work was originally the followup to The Mikado, which must have been a hard act to follow, but Ruddigore was topsy-turvy fun anyway, as Gilbert & Sullivan tends to be. Probably it helps that we have no reason, more than a century later, to compare one work too closely to another that happened to come just before it.
Ann said it was enjoyable too, partly because the story wasn’t quite as convoluted as the other productions she’s seen. Not that the story’s ever the main thing, but as she said, it was nice to be able to keep track of the characters.
All of the main cast acquitted themselves well. I was particularly fond of the energy that Jonathan Joseph Larson, a large man with a large beard, brought to the sailor Richard Dauntless, and Lane Halverson’s amusing performance of the relatively small part of Old Adam, Robin Oakapple’s faithful servant. He has his moment when he’s tasked to abduct a maiden.
There were some laughs. Maybe not as many as in Patience, especially when the Duke of Dunstable emerged in pink tights, but even chuckles are impressive in a work that’s more than 130 years old. Some clever lines I chuckled at:
RICH. And I make bold to ax your honour’s advice. Does your honour know what it is to have a heart?
SIR D. My honour knows what it is to have a complete apparatus for conducting the circulation of the blood through the veins and arteries of the human body.
ROB. My good sir, if I can’t disinherit my own unborn son, whose unborn son can I disinherit?
SIR ROD. Humph! These arguments sound very well, but I can’t help thinking that, if they were reduced to syllogistic form, they wouldn’t hold water.
MAR. Listen – I’ve come to pinch her!
ROSE. Mercy, whom?
MAR. You mean “who.”
ROSE. Nay! It is the accusative after the verb.
Of course, no joke about grammar is as funny as this.
Kohler in the Fall
Ten years ago this month I went to a conference in Kohler, Wisconsin, famed for its plumbing equipment but also enlivened by colorful trees, if you time your visit right. One afternoon I had a little while to take a walk near the American Club, site of the conference.
Across Highland Dr. from the club are buildings that belonged to the Kohler Co., and still do, according to Google Maps. This is the front-office building of the company’s enormous factory.
The street offers a leafy walk at the edge of the Kohler plant.
Also on Highland Dr. is the Village of Kohler Fire Dept. headquarters. On the side of the fire department building is this curious bit of artwork. Curious enough for me to take a picture, anyway.
St. George and the Dragon, looks like. Maybe the dragon is a metaphor for fire. Still, the patron saint of firefighters isn’t St. George, but rather St. Florian. The Florian cross is the basis of the logo of the International Association of Firefighters.
Further down the street is a railroad crossing.
Before long Highland Dr. turns into Riverside Dr., with views of the Sheboygan River available.
The Sheboygan flows directly into Lake Michigan. I also saw it in Sheboygan Falls during that trip.
Near Riverside is parkland.
It was a good place for an October walk.
Early October Debris
We acquired some pumpkins today.
For now they’ll be on the deck, at risk of squirrel attack. I suppose we’re aspiring to jack-o-lanterns, but the way things go, we might not do any cutting until October 30.
A recent press release I received said, in part: “_____ chewables are refreshing… tablets that ward off fatigue, foggy head and nausea.
“Using Japanese _____, an ancient detox extract with hangover prevention properties and anti-inflammatory effects, _____ also contains potent antioxidants that replenish lost electrolytes. They boost immune support, hydration and give your liver much needed love.”
That should be “much-needed love,” but I’m nit picking. Yet it’s true, we just don’t love our livers enough in this country. Think of all that the liver does for us, and what do we do to it (some of us, anyway)? Lacquer our livers with alcohol.
Even so, I decided to opt out of more mail from that source. I get a lot of email as it is.
The camera does odd things sometimes.
That or I accidentally recorded the dog receiving a telepathic message from her home planet. It’s well known that such messages generate a fleeting green glow at the back of the eyeball.
A recent dusk.
Not long ago I saw a rainbow at about the same time of day. I was able to tell Ann, “Rainbow at night, sailor’s delight, rainbow at morning, sailor take warning.” She’d never heard that. Modern education is pretty much a failure when it comes to weather proverbs. Or is it “red sky”? Both versions exist, as far as I can tell.
Electric Emblem, Grand Commandery of Colorado
Unusually warm and especially windy today. I would have spent more time on the deck, but the wind was distracting. That and dust was blowing in from the baseball field in the park.
I’ve seen people playing baseball there sometimes, even in recent weeks. But no peewee football in the park yet. That’s still going on as far as I know, despite concussion worries, and the occasional brawl among the parents.
I correspond by postcard with a handful of people. Sometimes I get delightful cards. This one from a correspondent in Tennessee is definitely that.
It depicts, according to the back of the card, the Electric Emblem, Grand Commandery of Colorado (Knights Templar, who are still around). The card has a copyright date of 1913, which as far as I understand puts it in the public domain. Something so delightful should be.
My correspondent tells me the card was once owned by her grandmother in Arkansas, “a prolific card writer,” she says. Makes it even more special to get in the mail. Millennials have no idea what they’re missing by giving up on postcards.
The Rain of October 1
After dark yesterday, I heard the mild rumble of thunder off in the distance. Had rain been forecast? I hadn’t checked. Turned out, it was, and soon we got heavy rain that lasted an hour or so. Not much more thunder, though.
At about 9:30 I parked myself on the couch in the living room and listened to the pleasant rainfall. I had my audio recording device handy.
Then it occurred to me that my roof and walls were muffling the robustness of the falling water. So I got up — it was an effort — and stood just outside the front door for a short time.
The best version of rain-sound is between those two, achieved by opening a window during a heavy rain and listening from somewhere a little removed from the window. But I didn’t test this idea last night. Instead, I went back to the couch for a leisurely while.
Mass Entertainment
Here’s a list I spent some time with recently: Wiki’s List of highest-grossing media franchises. Being Wiki, there’s no telling how accurate it is, but I will note that there are an enormous number of notes and references. So I’ll take it as accurate enough.
The list is interesting for a number of reasons, but mainly for information on the high-grossing franchises I’ve never heard of, which are quite a few.
Most of them are Japanese: anime, manga, even franchises whose most profitable expression is pachinko machines. As far as I could tell from my years in Japan, pachinko parlors were insanely bright, intensely noisy places to throw away money. But I was just a barbarian outsider. Apparently the machines are branded, and the branding is big business.
Take Fist of the North Star which, originating way back in 1983, would have been around when I was in Japan. I’d never heard of it until today. Though starting as manga, the franchise has enjoyed nearly $16.8 billion in pachinko machine sales, plus a few billion more in manga and other games.
Pachinko, incidentally, comes up 13 times on the list. Most of those are Japanese franchises, but not all. There have been $2.85 billion in Disney Aladdin pachinko (and arcade) machines sold. Spider-Man pachinko machines are popular to the tune of $308 million in sales, and Tomb Raider has sold $300 million.
I was curious how many of the franchises I’ve supported, either for myself or my children, so I counted: more than I would have thought, about 50. That includes mostly through ticket sales, as well as small-screen viewing (at least occasionally), but also the quarters I spent on Pac-Man and Space Invaders, and things my daughters watched that I never would, such as Sailor Moon and Dora the Explorer.
Mass-market entertainment’s pervasive. Even when your tastes tend to run to less successful shows.