mere cat

Things That Come In Sheaves

Not long ago I read a piece by Jack Handey in the New Yorker, “The Symbols on My Flag (And What They Mean).” It was the funniest piece I have read by him; I even had to stop reading it on the train until I recovered my composure. Embarrassing.

When I saw this sheaf at the Panera Bread in Millbrae, I knew I had to share the link. You’ll understand the connection if you read it.

12:03 PM | Permalink | Add Comment
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George Carlin’s Hair Poem

I was very surprised to hear that George Carlin died. Sure, he had a history of heart trouble, but still. I stopped following his career a while ago, but back in the day, I was a huge fan.

For my George Carlin tribute post I would like to share one of my favorite bits, the “Hair Poem.” I liked it so much I took the trouble to memorize it (I thought it would make me the life of the party or something). I still remembered most of it (Google filled in the gaps).

Hair Poem

I'm aware some stare at my hair.
In fact, to be fair,
Some really despair of my hair.
But I don't care,
’Cause they're not aware,
Nor are they debonair.
In fact, they’re just square.

They see hair down to there,
Say, “Beware” and go off on a tear!
I say, “No fair!”
A head that’s bare is really nowhere.
So be like a bear, be fair with your hair!
Show it you care.
Wear it to there.
Or to there.
Or to there, if you dare!

My wife bought some hair at a fair, to use as a spare.
Did I care?
Au contraire!
Spare hair is fair!
In fact, hair can be rare.
Fred Astaire got no hair,
Nor does a chair,
Nor a chocolate eclair,
And where is the hair on a pear?
Nowhere, mon frère!

So now that I've shared this affair of the hair,
I'm going to repair to my lair and use Nair, do you care?

9:15 AM | Permalink | Add Comment
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Nice Shoes, My Man

Those who have seen me in real life know that I do not adorn my body with luxurious fabrics tailored in the latest style. Rather, I dress in the urban camouflage known as “business casual” (think Dockers® and button-down shirts—although I don’t wear actual Dockers®). I think I blend in perfectly with my surroundings, and as long as I keep up with the rest of herd, the lion ain’t gonna get me.

Once a long time ago (probably when I was in my ballroom-dancing phase), I stepped out a little and bought some notice-me shoes. I wear them rarely, because they just aren’t “me.” Monday night, however, I got myself all dolled up to go to Chris’ Jazz Cafe: wool trousers, one of my lobster ties, and these look-at-me shoes. Since I’ve always called these my “jazz” shoes, it seemed appropriate.

As I was walking along 16th Street, I thought I heard someone say, “Nice shoes, my man.” He couldn’t be talking about me, but I slowed down anyway. He repeated the compliment in a tone that unambiguously emphasized his sincerity. I had to laugh because it was so unexpected to receive any kind of compliment on my appearance (there’s a first time for everything, I guess). But you know, they are nice shoes. They really are.

Update: Albert shamed me into posting a picture of said shoes. i think they were better left to the imagination. :-)

8:25 AM | Permalink | Add Comment
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The Active Blogger Meetup RIP

<Maurice Chevalier accent>Ah, yes, I remember eet well: my first blogger meetup—in fact, my first meetup of any kind.</Maurice Chevalier accent>

I had been blogging in isolation since early 2002 and, amazing as it seems to me now, only reading a handful of other blogs by the onerous process of visiting each web site one at a time. In March, 2005, I was reading Drunkenbatman’s interview with Brent and Sheila Simmons, who together comprised Ranchero Software (makers of NetNewsWire, the RSS reader I eventually started using). Both were asked what blogs they read, and Sheila answered, “I like Blankbaby - he’s regularly quite funny and gives an interesting slice-of-life from Philadelphia.”

Philadelphia? There are bloggers in Philadelphia?! So I visited this “Blankbaby” person’s site, and the current post at that time invited people to come out to a “blogger meetup.” I joined Meetup.com forthwith and ventured forth on March 16, 2005, to the Independence Brew Pub. The rest, as they say, is history. Scott “Blankbaby” McNulty has been the tireless organizer of the monthly Active Blogger Meetup (there was apparently an earlier meetup that was “inactive”) since that day and has been paying the monthly fee faithfully ever since, never once asking for help.

Attendance has been erratic in the last year, and Scott has decided to resign as organizer. It is doubtful that anyone could ever fill his shoes. Myself, I’m only a 9-1/2 C (way too small), and even though I was a strong believer in the meetups, I was only attending them a few times a year. The purpose of this post is to thank Scott for his generous support to the meetup, which has enabled me to meet so many wonderful people over the years as well as getting me hooked on good beer. I am also pleased to say that Scott and I have enjoyed an asymptotic relationship—growing closer and closer over the years, without ever actually hugging. Thanks, Scott, for doing so much for so long!!!

8:46 AM | Permalink | Add Comment
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Pat’s Lunch in Stone Harbor

On a visit to Stone Harbor earlier this year in March, my brother-in-law’s eagle eye spotted a sign advertising “Fresh Lobster on a Roll.” A lobster roll in Stone Harbor??? We swerved into the parking lot of Pat’s Lunch at around 5:00 PM. The restaurant was empty at the time, and the ebullient owner, Pat Tirotta, had a captive audience, so he began by fanning out press clippings about himself and his restaurant on the counter. It’s no wonder that the New York Times wrote a story about him back in 2001. Originally from South Philly, he has had this place since 1966 and is now 88 years old, obviously still going strong. Pat made us taste all his homemade soups, which we ordered. I sampled the lobster roll, of course, and regretted not bringing a camera.

88-year-old Pat Tirotta telling us youngsters a thing or two.

I finally got back to Pat’s last Saturday (a dreary, rainy day) with a camera to get some pictures. The lobster roll is pretty good, but it was quite salty and Pat doesn't grill the hot dog bun. Still, the fact that he even serves a lobster roll endeared him to me. Pat’s roll might not be worth a pilgrimage, but all of Pat’s soups certainly are, especially the she-crab. I bought a quart of it to go. The stories are pretty tasty, too.

The lobster roll at Pat’s Lunch.

I assumed Pat’s served the only lobster roll for miles around until I learned the next day that there’s another lobster roll in Stone Harbor at a new place called Quahog’s Seafood Shack. I’m sure I’ll be trying it sometime this summer. With two places, it looks like Stone Harbor is the lobster-roll capital of New Jersey.

Pat’s Lunch on Stone Harbor Boulevard.

8:28 AM | Permalink | Add Comment
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Star Destroyer vs. Enterprise: Another Perspective

A footnote in John Gruber’s analysis of “BlackBerry vs. iPhone,” in which John answers the unanswerable question, “Who would win in a fight, Star Destroyer vs. U.S.S. Enterprise?” piqued my interest briefly and those of many others, as John noted on Twitter. (John’s money is on the Star Destroyer.) But it wasn't a question I could debate myself. After all, I’ve only seen two and half of the seventeen Star Wars movies and barely fifteen minutes of Star Trek: The Next Generation (is that the show with Data?). I’m more comfortable debating a conundrum like “Who's cuter, Ginger or Mary Ann?”¹

When I saw my friend Keith on Memorial Day, I mentioned it to him. He has long been interested in Star Wars (one of his email addresses is “wookie”), and I thought he would have an opinion. He had an immediate and definitive answer, and I thought his logic was unassailable.

The arguments I have been reading since then, based on “facts” gleaned from various published sources, have convinced me that, based on its superior weaponry, the Star Destroyer would win. The Enterprise has some advantages, but I don’t think they would allow it to prevail. In the world of fiction (the only place this battle could ever take place), however, anything is possible. Keith pointed to an answer right in the stories themselves—regardless of the firepower, the good guys always win. After all, didn’t Luke Skywalker, a single pilot in a puny fighter, destroy the Death Star itself? That’s a mismatch in opponents that makes David vs. Goliath seem like a fair fight.

Therefore, whereas the Star Destroyer is an Imperial warship (Bad Guys), and the U.S.S. Enterprise is a Federation craft (Good Guys), I have to go with the Enterprise. And you know, not even the full might of the Enterprise would be necessary, but probably just one person in a shuttlecraft, armed only with a pocketknife, could do the job. Goliath never had a chance.

¹Mary Ann

8:31 AM | Permalink | Add Comment
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“The Americans” Reissued

While I may hedge about who my favorite photographer is (most days it’s Andre Kertesz), I can safely say that my favorite photography book is The Americans by Robert Frank (first published in 1958). I have the fourth Scalo edition of 2000. I wanted to give a copy to a friend last year and discovered that it was out of print. Bummer. Last week I learned that there is a brand-new edition issued in celebration of the book’s 50th anniversary. The book has not just been reprinted, but remastered—all the prints have been re-scanned by the publisher Steidl under the supervision of Robert Frank himself. I looked through my copy the other day, and it still takes my breath away. More at The Online Photographer.

8:23 AM | Permalink | Add Comment
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Face Time: Nancy Boy Signature Shave Cream

Just a quick update on my “wet shaving” experiment, which has been a wild success. People stop me on the street just to admire my, um, cheeks and say: You smell. So good. (Punctuation is tricksy, isn’t it?)

My first two jars of shaving cream were both English (or English-style): Truefitt & Hill’s Ultimate Comfort and Art of Shaving’s Sandalwood, so I surfed around and found Nancy Boy shave cream (via Corey Greenberg’s Shave Blog). It is half the price of the premium English creams ($16), so I was hoping to like it.

At first, Nancy Boy was a big disappointment, but I was merely using it incorrectly (hence this post). The English creams I’ve tried seem to thrive in lots of water. They make a luxurious lather in the cup and work best on a wet face. When I mixed Nancy Boy the same way, the razor really tugged almost as if I wasn’t using any shave cream at all. The trick is to use it almost dry. Dampen the brush and work a little cream until it begins to foam. (In fact, you don’t even need the brush, but that would take all the fun out of it.) Apply it to dry skin. As counter-intuitive as this sounds, the razor glides at least as smoothly as it did with the English creams. Works for me, and I will probably be using Nancy Boy from now on.

After trying the five kinds of blades in the sample pack from West Coast Shaving, I decided on a brand of blades, too. It was a little difficult to decide, since I liked all the blades about equally (except for the Merkur, which just seemed dull). I noticed that I never cut myself with the Derby Extras, so I bought a bunch of those.

8:56 AM | Permalink | Add Comment
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The Lost Generation

Beacon of Hope by Adam Lisagor

I started a draft of this post way back in October, but when Adam Lisagor posted his take on the Barack Obama HOPE poster (created by Shepard Fairey), I just had to pull it up and finish it. Brilliant. (The posters, not this post, silly.)

The woman in the poster is, of course, Mavis Beacon, or one of them. Like Lassie, there have been a number of Mavis Beacons over the years. But that first Mavis... wow. If my wife ever finds out, I’m dead; pure fireworks. Mavis and I spent a lot of time together for a while. I am ashamed to say I used her—at least until I reached 60 wpm, then sadly we went our separate ways, never to meet again.

I had always been an adequate two-finger typist, but when I got my Mac Plus in 1988, I knew I needed to learn touch typing. Like most boomers, I didn’t grow up with computers and never had a “keyboarding” class. Mavis Beacon Teaches Typing was just the ticket.

Anne had a great insight about boomers and computers that originally inspired this post, and since she isn’t blogging at the moment, I’m using it. She noted that one of the main reasons boomers have trouble adapting to computers is their lack of typing prowess. It makes a lot of sense. I’ve watched my own brother struggle to hunt and peck on his Mac, and it’s clear why computer usage doesn’t interest him. I’m sure there are many older people who might make more use of computers if only their typing were a little better, but who aren’t quite motivated enough to learn. Anne calls these people The Lost Generation. Perhaps there should be a special Boomer Edition of Mavis Beacon with drills tailored just for them.

9:59 PM | Permalink | Add Comment
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Pettigrew for President

Timothy Pettigrew to be precise. I went to Catholic schools for grades 1 through 10 and during elementary school, subscribed to Treasure Chest, a “Catholic-oriented comic book series created by Dayton, Ohio publisher George A. Pflaum and distributed in parochial schools from 1946 to 1972” [Wikipedia]

I had a distinct memory of a story about the 1976 Presidential campaign with a surprise ending in which it was revealed on the last page of the final episode that the candidate Timothy Pettigrew was African-American. (For some reason, I didn’t think it was odd that you never saw Pettigrew’s face until the last page.) Some Googling filled in all the details.

From the NPR News Blog, I learned that the story ran in 1964 (I was 10 years old). Catholic University in Washington, DC has scans of most issues from 1946 through 1963. Unfortunately, the issues from 1964 forward are still under copyright. You can see a YouTube video of the comic, however.

1964 was a momentous year for other reasons than this footnote in comic-book history. Three civil-rights workers were murdered near Philadelphia, Mississippi (dramatized in Mississippi Burning and Murder in Mississippi) and shortly thereafter The Civil Rights Act, which had been introduced the year before, was finally signed into law by Lyndon Johnson. It only took another 44 years before an African-American would have a chance at the nomination.

7:44 PM | Permalink | Add Comment
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Five Random Things and One Weird One

I was tagged for the “historical figure” meme by Antonella Pavese. Choose an historical figure and list five random/weird things about said figure. I’m interpreting “historical” loosely as anyone who has died, but not necessarily someone who is well-known.

I can’t say I have a favorite historical figure, but I have long been interested in art, so I first thought of picking a nineteenth-century European painter. For a time, I settled on Turner whom I have always admired, but I don't know much about him, other than what I remember from reading Ruskin’s Modern Painters.

Then, inspiration struck (ow!!). I chose Josef Hofmann, the pianist (1876–1957), someone who is not only an artist of the first rank, but who I knew had other accomplishments outside of music (although I had to do some research to find out the details). Of the pianists who were the first to be recorded at the beginning of the 20th century (at first using the acoustic and then later, electrical, processes), Hofmann is my favorite since being introduced to his playing about twenty years ago. Here, then, are five random things (and one weird one) about Hofmann:

1. Hofmann was a child prodigy, but was so overworked (5 concerts a week during ten weeks of touring in America) that the tour was cancelled at the request of the New York Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Children.
2. The great pianist Anton Rubinstein had only one private student—Hofmann.
3. Hofmann was instrumental in founding the Curtis Institute of Music here in Philadelphia and taught there when it was formed in 1924 and later was the Institute’s director for ten years.
4. Hofmann had a phenomenal memory and musical ear and was able to learn pieces just from hearing them played once.
5. Hofmann was a mechanical genius and had over 70 patents for various inventions, only one of which had anything to do with music. His most successful invention was a pneumatic shock absorber for vehicles.
6. Reportedly, Hofmann preferred Geno’s cheesesteaks to Pat’s. Not sure where I read that.

There is some video on YouTube from a Bell Telephone Hour performance in the Forties, but Hofmann was at the end of his career, and he is not at his best.

8:34 AM | Permalink | Add Comment
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It’s Good to Hear Live Music

I was struck by a story that bassist Gerald Veasley told in the April Jazz Times about Joe Zawinul (of Weather Report):

We always teased Joe about his constant use of the phrase ‘it’s good to be...’ That was his way of being at peace with whatever the situation was. We’d be walking down the street in the pouring rain and he’d say, ‘You know, Gerald, it’s good to walk in the rain.’ Or you’d be complaining about riding all night from Venice to Copenhagen and he’d say, ‘It’s good to be tired.’ He had this strong-willed approach to life. Bring it on and he could not just deal with it, but embrace it.

I’ve got a long way to go before I can accept things that I can’t change with such equanimity. I’m better about coping with disappointment and frustration than I used to be, but can’t say I embrace them. I still prefer sunny days to rainy ones, but this glimpse into the mindset of an “it’s good to be alive” person is inspiring.

I almost posted this yesterday, but I’m glad I didn’t, because amazingly I saw Gerald Veasley last night at the Victor Wooten concert at the Keswick. Right near the end, he was spotted and brought up on stage to sit in with the band. That would have been the icing on the cake, but there was even more icing to come. Bernie Worrell was also in the audience, and he came up to do the Parliament classic “Give Up the Funk.” Derico Watson killed on drums, by the way. So much icing I was in sugar shock.

10:14 PM | Permalink | Add Comment
Filed under Arts/Music/Concerts

Bridgewater’s Pub After Beer Week

My only regret regarding Beer Week was not being able to attend all 150-odd events (kidding!). Especially painful was missing the Beer Week happy hours at one of my favorite joints, Bridgewater’s Pub, a haven of good food and drink in bustling 30th Street Station. According to the schedule at least, they hosted Summit, Spaten, Southampton, and Lancaster.

Last night, I stopped in for dinner and passed up such delicacies as Duck Fat Popcorn for the more conventional Pulled Pork Sliders topped with slaw. I had time for two beers, a Southampton IPA and a Spaten Spring Bock, served in a large Spaten glass mug. Hey, it was the first day of Spring!

Today, we got out of work early, and I hadn’t eaten lunch yet. SEPTA helped me decide where, because the R5 I was on ended in Philadelphia. With an hour to kill, I took that as a sign and headed straight back to Bridgewater’s Pub, this time for lunch. You might think I was in a rut, but every time I go back, there’s something different. They had already switched out one of the draft beers, replacing the Southampton IPA with Southampton Biere de Mars. Their IPA is good, but the Biere de Mars was one of the tastiest and most drinkable beers I’ve ever had. They also added Beamish Stout on draft (it’s possible I just missed seeing it yesterday), so I had one of those, too. Delicious. I had Beamish on the brain anyway from watching the premier episode of “Two Guys on Beer” (the two guys being Johnny Bilotta and David Martorana), which featured a “Stout Shootout,” a blind tasting of Guinness, Murphy’s, and Beamish. Check it out. Oh, I had the veggie burger to help wash down the beer.

There was an interesting moment just as I was leaving. I was sitting at one of high-top tables instead of the bar (partly because the bar was crowded, but mostly so I could use the laptop). From this vantage point, I noticed that when one of the customers left his seat at the bar temporarily (I knew he was coming back because he left his bags), his cell phone fell on the floor among the bar stools. This happened just as I was getting the check, so I didn’t have a chance to catch him. By the time I finished with the check, somebody else had arrived and put their luggage right on top of the cell phone. Now, I am a shy person, and it was amusing to me that I would have to explain that I needed to shift their baggage so I could grab this phone. So I asked the one guy to pick up his giant backpack so I could get the cell phone—I felt like a magician who could produce cell phones from thin air—and then handed it to the other guy (who was now back). He was very appreciative and gave me a look like I had saved his life. He was just really surprised. Even though the clock at Bridgewater’s is ten minutes fast, I really had to go so, checking my pocket for my cell phone, I headed to the platform.

10:57 PM | Permalink | Add Comment
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