Tuross Head Tangent

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While looking into Australia-related matters today, since it’s Australia Day, I looked up Tuross Head. It’s a small village on the coast of New South Wales.

I already knew that, since just after Christmas 1991, I spent a few days nearby, guests of the hospitable Clark family, one of whom I knew in Japan. I spent a good while one day wandering around the fine coastline at Tuross, rocky shores enlivened by distinctly unfamiliar flora, though that doesn’t really show in my snapshots.Tuross Head 1991 Tuross Head 1991 Tuross Head 1991

More recently, as in today, Wiki informed me that one Eva Mylott (1875-1920) was born in Tuross Head. She was a popular opera singer from Australia, and also so happens to be Mel Gibson’s paternal grandmother, though she was never to know him, since she died when her own children were very young.

That’s her, in a photo from the collection of the State Library of New South Wales.

Then I started reading about her son, Mel’s father, Hutton Gibson (1918-2020). While he didn’t have the platform of celebrity, the elder Gibson had quite a career as a crackpot, back when that meant pamphlets and physical-medium videos or appearing on local radio or talking to people in person about your ideas. Just as the Internet has become a vast conduit of more or less factual information, so too vast eddies of crackpot nonsense now flow through it; but that’s a rant for another time.

Crackpot dad, eh Mel? There’s a Japanese proverb for this situation: kaeru no ko wa kaeru (蛙の子は蛙). Literally, a tadpole is a frog. The less poetic English — though it has some resonance, both as sound and emotionally as meaning — would be, like father, like son.

Tuesday Humor

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Up to balmy double-digit Fahrenheit numbers this afternoon, barely, as a brilliant sun reminded me that in January a sunny day usually means it’s cold as Swedish hell.

I didn’t know Dave Barry was still doing his annual humor piece, or even that he was still alive, but so he is on both counts. Found that out today.

In case the Washington Post is behind a paywall, here’s an essential nugget from Barry:

At this point these are the known facts about the pandemic in America:

Many Americans have been vaccinated but continue to act as though they have not.

Many other Americans have not been vaccinated but act as though they have.

Next, a joke that’s evidently begin kicking around a while. I spotted it this morning. I’ve put it, as they used to say in school, in my own words.

Just before he was appointed chancellor, Hitler — always with an interest in the occult — visited a fortune teller and asked her a number of questions, including what day he would die.

The fortune teller told him that he would die on a Jewish holiday.

“How do you know that?” an outraged Hitler demanded.

“Any day you die will be a Jewish holiday.”

Lawless Roads, A Greene Enthusiast & The Pecan-Shellers Strike

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Really nice sunset today, red-grays among the lingering clouds that had dropped snow earlier in the day. Too good, I decided, to capture in digital image form. Besides, it’s cold out there.

I picked up Lawless Roads again last night. It was the book I took with me to New York last month, reading about half. Very near the end of my outbound flight, a youngish fellow in the middle seat next to me spied the cover and told me he’d never heard of the book, even though he thought he’d read all of Graham Greene.

I told him it was one of his handful of travel books. He said he would find it and read it. We had to get off the plane pretty soon after that, so I didn’t discuss Greene any further with him. That may be just as well, since I’ve only read a few of his titles, such as The Quiet American, Journey Without Maps, The Third Man, and Travels With My Aunt. I liked all of them, but don’t count myself as an enthusiast.

Early in the book, Greene visits San Antonio, and mentions in passing the city’s pecan shelling industry, whose poorly paid and ill-treated workers were on strike at the time (early 1938).

One thing that struck me was the size of the industry: “Forty-seven pecan shelleries lying discreetly out of sight in San Antonio and they shell in a good year, twenty-one million pounds of nuts,” according to Greene.

“In the 1930s Texas pecans accounted for approximately 50 percent of the nation’s production,” the Handbook of Texas says, revealing an even larger industry than Greene thought. “San Antonio was the Texas shelling center because half the commercial Texas pecans grew within a 250-mile radius of the city.

“The pecan-shelling industry was one of the lowest-paid industries in the United States, with a typical wage ranging between two and three dollars a week. In the nearly 400 shelling factories in San Antonio the contracting system was prevalent; the large firms controlled the supply of nuts as well as the prices for shelling.

“Working conditions were abysmal — illumination was poor, inside toilets and washbowls were nonexistent, and ventilation was inadequate.”

It was a brief flowering for the labor movement in San Antonio, with mixed results, and in a few years the point was moot, with hand shellers generally replaced by machines. By the time I came along, all traces of the industry had vanished, at least as far as I knew. Its memory had vanished as well, again at least as far as I knew.

As labor actions go in San Antonio, that was one of the more memorable ones, yet somehow by the 1970s not even my former Wobbly high school U.S. history teacher, the spirited Mrs. Collins, mentioned it in class. She was from upstate New York, so perhaps had little knowledge of it herself. I had to hear about it from my Government teacher at UT Austin in the summer of ’81, who said he was an adherent of anarchism, but that’s a story for another time.

Bare Tree

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Sunny winter Sunday today, following snow last night, though only about two or three inches. Not enough to slow anything down. In the afternoon the back yard the sky looked about like this.Bare Tree

But I have to say that I took that picture four years ago in January. Pretty much all the Januaries here in metro Chicago have melded into a chilly gray blur. Still, the days are getting longer, which puts me in mind of days on the deck and distant roads.

Things in the Mail

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Got a circular in the mail recently — another bit of paper, in this supposed digital age — advertising live shows at a metro Chicago theater I’ve been to exactly once, maybe five or six years ago. The theater has never forgotten that, on the off chance that I’d be willing to put in the miles (and it’s quite a few) to see another show there.

Topmost act on the ad? Grand Funk Railroad. It’s a nostalgia-oriented theater, and that name does take me back to adolescent days, or rather nights, of listening to my cheap bedside radio.

The band itself doesn’t have a lot of nostalgia value for me, though. They were fine. Had a few hits. Such as a decent version of “The Loco-Motion,” of all things. They were part of the astonishing variety that was commercial radio in the 1970s, which wasn’t that astonishing until the radio business decided to silo itself in unimaginative ways in later decades.

I was curious enough to look at the band web site, learning the following (all caps sic):

“Grand Funk Railroad is extremely excited to be touring in 2022 marking a 53 year milestone. After playing to millions of fans on the band’s tours from 1996 to 2021, Grand Funk’s 2022 SOME KIND OF WONDERFUL TOUR will continue to reach both new and long-time fans.”

I didn’t know they were originally from Flint, Michigan. Learn something every day. Forget just as much every day as well, probably.

I checked the ticket prices at the theater web site. For seats far away from the stage, $60. Most seats are north of $100, and if you want a seat in the loge right or left, that will run you at least $248. This doesn’t encourage me to see Grand Funk Railroad.

Also in the mail lately.

My name, unusual as it is, is gender ambiguous. I’ve been getting things addressed to Miss and Ms (and maybe Mrs, not sure) for as long as I’ve been getting circulars and other solicitations. That and, of course, a variety of misspellings, including of my last name, which is perfectly phonetic.

Our gas bills, which come all too regularly in the mail, offer up data on the price of natural gas. This isn’t good.

December 2020: 29 cents/therm. December 2021: 68 cents/therm. Good thing the most recent December was warmer than a year earlier, but I’m afraid January isn’t turning out that way.

I had to refresh my memory that a therm = 100,000 Btu. I’ve always liked that name, the British thermal unit. A Btu is the quantity of heat required to raise the temperature of one pound of liquid water by 1 degree Fahrenheit at the temperature that water has its greatest density (at about 39 degrees Fahrenheit). If that’s not a legacy of Victorian scientists, I don’t know what is. Sure enough, it is.

I’d read that natural prices were on the rise, and sure enough, there it is in my bill. “What’s Up with Natural Gas Prices?” this American Petroleum Institute article asks, as if Andy Rooney were asking. The short answer: the market fluctuates, and be glad you aren’t in Europe, where prices are astronomical, rather than merely steep.

Honey Bee Beads By Ann

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Over the holidays, Ann set up her own microbusiness selling necklaces on Etsy, Honey Bee Beads By Ann. It’s an outgrowth of a hobby of hers, putting together necklaces from beads and charms.

While we were in downtown Bloomington on Sunday, we had a look around a resale shop called 2 FruGALS Thrift, which is in the 400 block of Main Street. That’s how the name of the shop is styled, with a cartoon image on the window outside depicting two women whom I assume are the two gals who own the place. One of the gals, clearly recognizable from the cartoon, was behind the counter when we visited.

It’s nice shop.2 FruGALS Thrift

For sale, a buddha. I didn’t buy the buddha, or rather the buddharupa, even though the price wasn’t bad. The Wisconsin Buddha is still in our back yard.2 FruGALS Thrift

Ann went looking for beads and other raw materials for her hobby, and found some items, which I bought for her as my support for an Etsy craftswoman.

Main Street, Bloomington

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Seems like the pit of winter has arrived. That’s not necessarily a time of blizzards or ice storms, though it can be. Mainly the pit is unrelenting cold, and some years the pit is deeper than others — more unrelenting, that is.

So far this year, winter has been bleak-midwinter-ish enough, but not viciously so in my neck of North America. There’s still time enough for northern Illinois winter to turn more vicious, of course.

Ann returned to ISU on Sunday, facilitated by me driving her there. It’s a task I don’t mind at all. We had a good conversation en route and listened to music we both like. I won’t go into the details of that right now, but there is a Venn diagram that includes some intersection. Larger than one might think.

Just before I returned her to her dorm and drove home, we visited part of Main Street in Bloomington. It’s an impressive block. Bloomington should be glad it has survived down to the present.Main Street, Bloomington Ill Main Street, Bloomington Ill Main Street, Bloomington Ill

Not only survived, but the buildings are home to one kind of shop or another, mostly nonchain specialty retailers. In fact, all nonchain as far as I could see.Main Street, Bloomington Ill Main Street, Bloomington Ill Main Street, Bloomington Ill

The 400 block of Main between Market and Monroe Sts. has the strongest concentration of late 19th-century commercial structures, with facades looking well-maintained in our time.Main Street, Bloomington Ill Main Street, Bloomington Ill

Featuring artwork from our time as well.Main Street, Bloomington Ill Main Street, Bloomington Ill Main Street, Bloomington Ill

Not a lot of plaques that I saw, but I did spot one.
Main Street, Bloomington Ill

An organization that’s still very much around, but these days, the Harber Building is home to Illinois Tattoo. Ralph Smedley lived quite a long time (1878-1965), mostly in California, where the organization really took off.

Over a storefront occupied by Ayurveda for Healing, which promises a “holistic path for wellness and optimal health,” there’s a remarkable set of metal figures.Main Street, Bloomington Ill

Detail.Main Street, Bloomington Ill

Ayurveda for Healing, which I assume takes its inspiration from South Asian practices, has three locations, including this one in Bloomington, along with Chicago and Kalamazoo, Michigan.

Just a block over, the 500 block of Main isn’t what it used to be. This is what it used to be, in an image borrowed from the McLean County Museum of History.Bloomington IL Main Street ca 1930

This is what I saw, let’s say roughly 90-odd years later.Main Street, Bloomington Ill Main Street, Bloomington Ill

To take that image of the mural, I was standing in a parking lot where a Montgomery Ward store used to be. Too bad for what has been lost, but fragments are mostly what we have of the past anyway, and it’s good to spot them.

50 Francs, Luxembourg

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In the fourth or fifth grade, a number of us kids were looking at close range at a map of Europe being held up by one of our teachers, and she asked whether we could find Belgium on the map. I’m not sure why she picked that country. Maybe because it wasn’t one of the more famed places that one of us might conceivably know, such as the UK or France or (West) Germany. Maybe she wanted to show us that Europe had other places besides the big countries.

Boom! I pointed my finger right at Belgium. I might have even tapped the map accidentally. I think she was surprised, but she didn’t know my map gazing habits, especially the atlas included with our encyclopaedia set, but also road maps and whatever else we had in the house.

So I knew about the Low Countries. Even more interesting than Belgium, I thought, was Luxembourg. Tiny Luxembourg got to be its own country. How about that. As fascinated as I was with maps in those days, I might not have realized there were even smaller European countries, though of course I learned about them eventually.

In my currency envelope, I have a 50 franc note, long demonetized, from the Grand Duchy, dated 1961.
50 Francs, Luxembourg

It might actually be worth something in mint condition, but it’s worn and slightly torn, especially on the top edge of the note. That’s a sign that it was in one wallet for a long time, or a lot of wallets for a long time, with the note facing upward.

That’s Grand Duchess Charlotte on the obverse. She had a long reign, 1919 to 1964, and an even longer life, 1896 to 1985. Her grandson Henri is grand duke these days.
50 Francs, Luxembourg

The reverse depicts one-quarter of the area of Luxembourg. Just kidding. But it is a pretty small country after all (I wasn’t wrong as a kid), at a shade less than 1,000 square miles. Rhode Island is larger. So is Brewster County, Texas — actually more than six times the size of Luxembourg — as are a lot of other places.

50 Tyiyn, Kyrgyzstan

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A little-remarked consequence of the breakup of the Soviet Union: it spawned a lot of new currencies. Central Asia had a positive boomlet in new banknotes and coins in the early to mid-90s.

The effusion of notes included the production of my Kyrgyzstani 50 tyiyn note, part of a series (the country’s first) issued in 1993. The note made its way in recent years to an envelope in my possession, here in the heart of North America.50 Tyiyn, Kyrgyzstan

Fifty tyiyn is half a som, the base unit. The notes haven’t been withdrawn, but coins are apparently used for everything valued at 10 som or less these days. 1 som = about 1.2 U.S. cents, so I’ve got myself a theoretical sixth-tenths of a cent note.

No national heroes of the sub-som notes of this series, but an eagle on the (I think) obverse. The 1, 5 and 20-som notes feature an illustration of the Epic of Manas, a Kyrgyzstan work I have to admit being unfamiliar with until today.
50 Tyiyn, Kyrgyzstan

Ah, Kyrgyzstan. Most likely to be confused with Kazakhstan, at least here in the West. I have to add that it looks like Kazakhstan has some pretty nice coins.

10 Dinars, Croatia

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Seasonal lights are going dark around here, but as of this evening anyway, a cluster of five houses that includes mine still displays colorful lights: two houses on my side of the street and three on the other side. I suspect that at least one of my neighbors wanted to keep them up past Orthodox Christmas, which seems like a good reason to me.

Time to make the acquaintance of Roger Joseph Boscovich, S.J., (1711-87) or as they write in Croatia, Ruđer Josip Bošković. Or, as the man of the Enlightenment he surely was, Rogerius Iosephus Boscovicius, because Latin is where it was at.

He was on the obverse of all of the 1991 transitional currency after the independence of Croatia, from 1 dinar to 50,000 dinars. I have a 10-dinar note.10-dinar note Croatia

A native of Dubrovnik, though known as Ragusa in those days, “[Boscovich] developed the first coherent description of atomic theory in his work Theoria Philosophiae Naturalis, which is one of the great attempts to understand the structure of the universe in a single idea,” writes Fairfield University. “He held that bodies could not be composed of continuous matter, but of countless ‘point-like structures.’ ”

Funny, I remember discussions of atomic theory always starting with John Dalton, so maybe Boscovich’s ideas count as a precursor, or maybe textbooks in the English-speaking world are loath to give him the credit he deserves. I’m not enough of a historian of science — not at all — to know. Atomic theory must of seemed a radical notion 200 years ago in any case.

The article calls Boscovich “a physicist, geometer, astronomer and philosopher.” His Wikipedia entry calls him a “physicist, astronomer, mathematician, philosopher, diplomat, poet, theologian, Jesuit priest, and a polymath.” Whatever the aptness of those terms, clearly a weighty intellect. Who’s really a polymath any more? Anyone?

In 1994, Croatia retired its dinars in favor of a currency called the kuna, and so far has kept it in the face of the euro. These days, one kuna fetches about 15 U.S. cents.

On the reverse, Zagreb Cathedral. It’s horizontal on the note but certainly vertical in Zagreb. I’d hope so anyway.10 dinar note Croatia

In full, Zagreb Cathedral of the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary, first completed in 1217 but destroyed by the Mongols not much later in that same century. Oops. It was rebuilt not long afterward, and at least the Ottomans didn’t destroy it, though earthquakes have done damage over the years, including as recently as 2020.