We Decide Who’s Naughty or Nice

Saw some houses in our neighborhood this week with lighted Christmas lights. To that I say, no. Sure, put them up when it’s still fairly warm – as it was today, touching 60° F. But don’t light them. How about waiting until the feast of St. Lucia on December 13? That’s a festival of light, after all.

I’m sure that idea would go nowhere. The response to anyone suggesting it, at least here in North America, would be, eh? Who’s that?

Never mind, Christmas is on its way. Some places light up even earlier, and retailers have been at it for a while now. Sometimes that means oddities.

Spotted the other day on a retail shelf. Careful, though: Not intended for highway use, unless you want to scatter elf limbs on the Interstate.

I’d heard of Elf on the Shelf, which makes the joke (mildly) funny, but didn’t actually know that much about it. Turns out the Elf isn’t that old, invented less than 20 years ago. To look at the thing, you’d think it was devised by ad men of the 1920s, as so much consumer culture was.

It also turns out that they are spies for Santa. Ho ho ho. That’s awfully granular of Old St. Nick. Of course, he has a big job to do, making that list. Here’s another idea: Stasi on the Shelf.

Community Ofrenda – Ofrenda Comunitaria

A week ago Sunday we visited the main branch of the Gail Borden Public Library District, a mid-sized, newish building near the Fox River in far west suburban Elgin, Illinois. First time at that library. Quite impressive, looking like a place where people want to go, looking for some specific information, or just to see what they could see.

Inside the front entrance the space opens up into a round, which functions as a hub for the rooms that are the library’s spokes.Community Ofrenda – Ofrenda Comunitaria

Prominent against a wall was the Community Ofrenda – Ofrenda Comunitaria.Community Ofrenda – Ofrenda Comunitaria Community Ofrenda – Ofrenda Comunitaria Community Ofrenda – Ofrenda Comunitaria

A helpful nearby sign.Community Ofrenda – Ofrenda Comunitaria

Calaveritas decorativas. That’s a good thing to know, the Spanish for the multitudes of decorative skulls in the worlds.The faces of Día de los Muertos. The faces of Día de los Muertos.

Details.The faces of Día de los Muertos. The faces of Día de los Muertos. The faces of Día de los Muertos.

The faces of Día de los Muertos.

The Fine Arts Building

This year on Halloween, I found myself wondering when the apostrophe mostly disappeared from Hallowe’en, at least in U.S. usage. The charts posted at a site called Grammar Revolution (though without citation) offer some information on the question. Hallowe’en, as one might see on a card old enough to be in the public domain, was a more common spelling in the early 20th century.

Around the time of World War II, the apostrophe version started its decline, with the non-apostrophe Halloween becoming more common by far since then. That leads me to the conclusion that apostrophe rationing during WWII inadvertently had a long-term impact. History is funny that way.

The last few days of October this year have been unusually pleasant. On Tuesday the 29th, for instance, I was able to dine al fresco in the afternoon quite comfortably. Yesterday, the 30th, it was still warm enough to sit on our deck in the evening in short sleeves, though the wind was up.

Halloween itself, following rain in the morning, was still windy, but a lot colder. That didn’t deter exactly 30 kids who came to our door for candy – about three-quarters of them before dark. We gave away full-sized Hershey products, which pleased the older kids especially, along with small bags of Utz pretzels, which no one commented on. I didn’t wear a costume for distribution, but I did put on my fez. It was a Christmas present from Jay some years ago, but there are sadly few occasions to wear it. I’d say Halloween or even Hallowe’en is one such.

Back on the October 19 (it was warm then, too), we spent at least an hour getting into, and wandering around, the Fine Arts Building at 410 S. Michigan Ave. Here it is, blocking the sun.Fine Arts Building Fine Arts Building Chicago

Like most vintage buildings, it began as something else: a factory and a showroom for Studebaker, when that company made carriages. The architect who designed it in 1885, Solon Beman (who did the Pullman company town too, among other things), did a redesign in 1898 when Studebaker left, thus creating a rather unusual office building. Since then, the Fine Arts Building has been just that, home to art galleries and artist studios, theater companies, publishers, dance and recording studios, musicians and musical instrument specialists, interior designers, and other arts-associated businesses.

For Open House Chicago, you can wander its long halls.Fine Arts Building

The current tenant directory makes for interesting reading, much more than almost any other office building: designers such as Doorways of Chicago; artists such as L.H. Selman, Ltd., Fine Glass Paperweights; performers such as the Chicago International Puppet Theater Festival; very specialized music shops such as Parke Mouthpiece Center, offering “professional brass mouthpieces for trumpet, trombone, horn, & tuba. Interchangeable rims, cups, backbores, tops, & underparts.”Fine Arts Building Chicago Fine Arts Building Chicago Fine Arts Building Chicago

Some of the businesses were open for the event.Fine Arts Building Chicago Fine Arts Building Chicago Fine Arts Building Chicago

The Fine Arts Building is of course going to feature art on its walls.Fine Arts Building Chicago Fine Arts Building Chicago Fine Arts Building Chicago

Plus a lot of fine old details, such as for the manually operated elevators – the only ones in Chicago, I’m told.Fine Arts Building Chicago Fine Arts Building Chicago Fine Arts Building Chicago

Can’t forget the mail chute.Fine Arts Building

That was it for Open House Chicago this year. Still as fine an event as ever, except for one thing: no paper guides and their useful area maps provided to eventgoers, which disappeared when the event was revived in 2021. Sure, they cost money to produce, but I seem to remember advertisements in them that might have offset costs somewhat, or maybe entirely. Just another small step on the road to further map illiteracy.

Next year, Open House New York? We shall see.

Wiarton Willie and His Hometown

Look at that point-of-interest spot on the map, I said to no one in particular. I think Yuriko was in the bathroom right then. Wiarton Willie, I said. And that is?

I didn’t look it up. But I knew we were going that way, south from the tip of the Bruce Peninsula at Tobermory on the two-lane Ontario 6, so we could find out. The town of Wiarton, Ontario was our first stop, late on the crisp and clear morning of October 10.

Wiarton’s on the Georgian Bay side. Willie has a lake view in a municipal park, but he is positioned looking away.Wiarton, Ontario

The plaque says that Willie was carved from Adair Dolomtic Limestone by Dave Robinson, and erected in 1996 on the occasion of the 40th anniversary of Groundhog Weekend celebrations in Wiarton, Ontario, pop. about 2,000. He honors the live groundhogs used in the annual ceremonies. “Willie Rising” is the formal name of the work.

Punxsutawney might have the best-known Groundhog Day celebrations — and certainly be depicted (by Woodstock, Illinois) in the best movie ever likely to be made about the holiday — but it isn’t the only place that touts the predictive talents of a series of marmots during a wintertime festival. Wiarton does, too. At one time an albino groundhog served as the living centerpiece of the fest, though more standard groundhogs seem to be tasked with forecasting these days.

One year, the Willie of the time died just before the festival, so the organizers held a public funeral instead, putting a lookalike stuffed rodent in a tiny casket, since the recently passed Willie reportedly smelled too bad for the role. Apparently some of the festivalgoers were miffed, but if you asked me that shows some imagination on the part of somebody — an urge to do something just a little out of the ordinary. In the hands of a competent scriptwriter, there’s probably a pretty good Groundhog Day comedy in that story.Wiarton, Ontario

Here’s a rabbit hole: or rather, a groundhog burrow: The Adair in Adair Dolomtic Limestone is a trademark held by Arriscraft, which is a unit of the stone products group of General Shale, the North American subsidiary of the expansion-minded Wienerberger AG, a leading multinational manufacturer of brick, headquartered in Vienna. The stone itself was quarried locally, since there are quarries near Wiarton. But the ultimate bosses are shadowy German-speaking billionaires.

The shore at Wiarton.Wiarton, Ontario Wiarton, Ontario Wiarton, Ontario

Not far away is the main street, Berford Street (Ontario 6), and its collection of handsome buildings of a certain age.Wiarton, Ontario Wiarton, Ontario Wiarton, Ontario

The taller buildings came in at no more than three stories.Wiarton, Ontario Wiarton, Ontario Wiarton, Ontario

Most had stores on their first floors, and people were out and about on the sidewalks, going about their business at such places as Beer Store, Peninsula Imprint, Bluewater Dental, Sullivan’s Butcher Shop, Coral’s Caribbean Cuisine, KW Real Estate Centre, Lost Art Espresso, Sunshine Drugs, Wiarton Emporium (thrift store), Cannabis Grey, Royal Bank of Canada, Ashanti Cafe, and more – a mix of ordinary retail and some that probably depend more on day-trippers from larger cities.

An active, walkable town, in other words, the kind planners dream about, but which are hard to conjure up from a set of plans.Wiarton, Ontario

Canadian Thanksgiving weekend was about to start.Wiarton, Ontario

From what I saw and heard, mostly on the radio, turkey feasts and family gatherings are common aspects of the holiday. That’s all very well, but I think we have a better deal: three holidays, plus a de facto holiday thrown in to make four days, on the leading edge of Christmas. Thanksgiving is a three-day weekend in Canada, and that’s that.Wiarton, Ontario

Over the door of the Royal Canadian Legion in Wiarton. Memoriam eorum retinebimus, we will remember them.Wiarton Ontario

Nearby artwork in the town with the same message.Wiarton Ontario

We should remember them, too. We, as in Americans. Not only have there been no hostilities along the border since the War of 1812 (not counting fishing spats), we and the Canadians have been comrades in arms ever since, when the times call for it.

Cucumber Time

Rain early this morning and clouds all day, and fairly warm. In the afternoon, we paid a visit to a warehouse store. In the retail world, Halloween is just around the corner.

As Halloween décor goes, I’ll say they’re impressive, though I’m not in the market for any such ghoulish simulations. Not even the Werewolves of Schaumburg (a lesser-known follow-up to the Werewolves of London?).

They retail for about $200 and $250, though I can’t remember which one was for which price. They’re a bit animatronic. For instance, the werewolf’s jaw opens and closes.

I can’t vouch for the accuracy of this long sentence in the Wiki article about the Silly Season, but I like the term “Cucumber Time,” so I’m quoting it here.

“In many languages, the name for the silly season references cucumbers (more precisely: gherkins or pickled cucumbers). Komkommertijd in Dutch, Danish agurketid, Icelandic gúrkutíð, Norwegian agurktid (a piece of news is called agurknytt or agurknyhet, i.e.,  ‘cucumber news’), Czech okurková sezóna (‘pickle season’), Slovak uhorková sezóna, Polish Sezon ogórkowy, Hungarian uborkaszezon, and Hebrew עונת המלפפונים (onat ha’melafefonim, ‘season of the cucumbers’) all mean ‘cucumber time’ or ‘cucumber season.’ ”

Considering the fraught politics of our time, and the equally fraught – if somewhat more permanent – 24/7 news cycle, and the way people glue themselves to their hand-held boxes, I’m not sure the Silly Season is an active concept any more, whatever you call it. Either there is no such season specific to August any more, or it’s all Silly Season.

No matter, I’m taking a long break for the Silly Season. Once upon a time, I worked for a news organization that didn’t publish during the week before Labor Day, just like the week between Christmas and New Years, and it was a paid week, no less. I thought that was a fine company practice; but it didn’t last.

Back to posting around September 9, assuming I survive the Silly Season, and I’d say the actuaries would still be on my side in that matter. But who knows. The Yellowstone Caldera (say) might blow, ruining everyone’s end-of-summer plans.

Fireworks

July kicked off much like June this year, warmth and sometimes heat alternating with rain, which cools down things for a while. The threat of cicadas so noisy you can’t hear yourself think has not, at least in my little corner of the suburbs, come to much so far. We’re now getting about as much cicada noise as we do every year, focused around dusk, though perhaps beginning a little earlier in the summer than usual; early July instead of mid- or late July.

July 4 was warm and dry. And on a Thursday, which makes a de facto four-day weekend. Just the time to set off fireworks here in Illinois, where all but the most innocuous ‘works are banned. I didn’t set any off myself, but after dark took to the deck to listen to the explosions.

Somewhere not too far away, someone was setting off M-80s or some noisy equivalent every few minutes, it seemed – a little too much of a good thing, I thought, so I moved to the garage, and listened to the bangs and pops and whizzes from there, with the door open and the lights off and the cars parked outside. The surrounding structure dampened the loudest of the fiery hubbub but still allowed me to hear it all.

There was also much less chance of being hit by a shell, in case some wanker out there somewhere was shooting actual firearms. I know that happens in some places here in the USA. I’ll admit that the odds of that seem pretty slim in our suburb, even at the noisiest moments on Independence Day, but even so probably greater than they would have been only a few years ago.

The Pearl Incident

The run of 90° F. (or so) days will run a little bit longer, see below, but as usual for summer in this part of the world, that kind of streak won’t have the staying power you see in certain other summertime places I’m familiar with, where 100° F. days line up in a seemingly endless array.

A site that sends me email sent a link to a Juneteenth article today with the slightly annoying headline: “5 Black History Landmarks in the U.S. You’ve Probably Never Heard Of.”

At least the publication included “probably.” But I checked, and I’d heard of four of them. Mostly they were not great unknowns. The Ebenezer Baptist Church was on the list, for instance. C’mon.

Still, I will give them their due by informing me of an event I hadn’t heard of: The Pearl Incident, which involved the unsuccessful escape attempt in 1848 by 77 slaves sailing from Washington City on a schooner called The Pearl. There is a plaque noting that fact “in the bricks of Wharf Street,” according to Wharf Life DC.  If I’m ever in the Wharf district in DC, I will look for it.

April, Come She Will

For all the malaise of the Internet, it’s still like having a library – a really big library – on your desk or, for those who prefer smaller boxes, in your palm. Otherwise how could I look up some Chaucer on the subject of April, just like that?

Whan that Aprill, with his shoures soote
The droghte of March hath perced to the roote
And bathed every veyne in swich licour,
Of which vertu engendred is the flour

That is to say, April showers relieve March dryness and bring forth flowers, if not May flowers exactly. A fair amount of rain fell today, though in northern Illinois at least, March wasn’t particularly dry.

I’ve had little regard for April Fools Day over the years, probably a legacy of the idiotic and occasionally cruel uses schoolkids had, in my experience, for the day. The Comics Curmudgeon touches on that very thing today in reviewing Dennis the Menace and Blondie.

“Is there any ‘holiday’ more vile and unpleasant than April Fool’s Day, which is mostly marked by ‘pranks’ perpetrated by the least funny people alive?” Josh Fruhlinger writes. “These tricks generally take one of two very simple forms, as illustrated neatly in these two strips: making someone believe that something bad is happening when it really isn’t, or making someone believe something good is happening when it really isn’t. Does anyone enjoy either? I’m going to say no.”

Mr. Dithers, one of the pranksters, is prominent in today’s Blondie. I don’t think I’ve ever appreciated how fat he is, a lingering attribute (I assume) from the Hoover-era origins of the strip, when fat meant prosperous. That association has been decoupled in the many decades since. Chalk it up to the wide introduction of corn syrup to the American diet, so that a wider class of people can be wider themselves.

Ashes to Ashes, Paw Prints to Paw Prints

Maundy Thursday has come around again, which seems like a good time to knock off posting until Easter Monday, which also happens this year to be April Fools’, known for its pranks and hoaxes. But really, isn’t every day a day for hoaxes in our time?

Or at least absurd assertions. From Wired yesterday: “A non-exhaustive list of things that are getting blamed for the bridge collapse on Telegram and X include President Biden, Hamas, ISIS, P. Diddy, Nickelodeon, India, former president Barack Obama, Islam, aliens, Sri Lanka, the World Economic Forum, the United Nations, Wokeness, Ukraine, foreign aid, the CIA, Jewish people, Israel, Russia, China, Iran, Covid vaccines, DEI, immigrants, Black people, and lockdowns.”

A pleasant Easter to all. Easter is the last day of March this year. Twenty-seven years ago, it was March 30, which put Maundy Thursday on March 27, 1997, which is a date with some resonance for us: we found out we were going to be parents.

Both daughters were in town at the same time for a few days earlier this month. It was unfortunately the same week that Payton died, though the visits were scheduled well before that happened.

Still, we could all enjoy dinner together two evenings (at home, and out the next day at a familiar Korean barbecue joint) and share our recollections of the dog, among other things.

We received the dog’s ashes this week, along with a paw print. I didn’t know memorial paw prints were a thing, but it seems they are.

Truth was, she could be prickly. But once you knew that, you could have fun with it. One way to get a rise was to slowly approach her food. In this video, about a month before her death, I told her, “I’m coming for your food,” but naturally no language other than body language was necessary.

She was already having trouble walking then – the hind legs were the first to fail her – and spent much of her time in our living room, among towels to catch her pee when she couldn’t quite get up to go to the door, and didn’t bother to tell us that by yapping, in which case we could help her go outside. Often enough, of course, she’d miss the towels. We didn’t care much. It was still good to have her around at all.