is conspicuous consumption worse

when it takes place in a country with a greater disparity between the rich and the poor? Or a larger population of poor? Or is it just easy to turn up one's Western nose at people in developing nations who espouse the same zest for material goods as we do?

http://www.timesonline.co.uk/tol/news/world/asia/article2199285.ece

From The Sunday Times

August 5, 2007

My big fat Indian birthday party

Dean Nelson, Delhi

Two-year-old Ishan is too young to remember the extravagant party his parents threw to celebrate his second birthday, but the hungry young beggars outside the tall wrought-iron gates of their Delhi farmhouse will never forget it.

Ishan was dressed in his favourite Noddy outfit to match the theme and to welcome his 100 guests to a party that had set his parents back £4,500.

The guests would barely have noticed the traffic light beggars pleading for coins as they drove their 4x4s through Delhi's exclusive Chattarpur suburb.

They were taking part in a ritual that is becoming a booming business among the city's elite: the big fat Indian kids' birthday party is now starting to rival the country's all-consuming wedding industry. According to industry insiders, it is now worth around £10m a year in Delhi alone, and it is growing fast.

Driving the phenomenon is a ruthless competitiveness among India's largely Hindu upper-middle classes, whose wealth has grown enormously over the past 15 years.

As their fortunes have soared, their children's weddings, and now birthdays, have become opportunities to display their new riches and social contacts. At little Ishan's party, no detail was overlooked in his parents' campaign to impress their friends and acquaintances.

The guests arrived through a specially commissioned Noddy gateway (£300), onto the sweeping lawns and swimming pool of their mansion. There were 20,000 balloons in Noddy's colours, and thousands more bearing his face and name, costing £750. There were 40 Noddy car models and statuettes dotted around the garden (£150), and four specially built Noddy bars for popcorn, chocolates and sweets (£150). A Noddy clown wandered among the children as they toyed with their Noddy-car goodie bags (100 at £12.50 each – £1,250).

And then there were the fairground rides: A "Columbus" swinging ship, three 40ft bouncy castles, a merry-go-round and a mini-train ride. The games and rides alone cost another £1,100.

There was a running buffet of pizza, burgers and sandwiches, all laid out on tables with matching Noddy glasses, napkins and plates.

The family could have laid on elephants at £25 each for garden rides (a herd is kept by the banks of Delhi's Yamuna River, and hired out for events), or camels at £15 per beast, but these animals are increasingly seen as the pass? preserve of lower-scale parties, according to one party planner. "One Indian family last month asked me to lay on live lions and tigers," he said.

Rakesh Gupta, of the Gift Palace toy and party store in Delhi's exclusive Khan Market, said over the past 15 years, his party business has grown to at least 60 a month, more than 40 of which are staged at five-star hotels, and cost up to £5,000.

"In the early days it was a family affair, but now children's parties are more of a social gathering, more like business parties," he said. Of the 100 or so guests attending most birthday parties, 60 will be business contacts of the parents.

The competitiveness of Delhi's new rich is not limited to the scale of the parties they throw, the social standing of the guests or the choice of exotic rides. It also extends to the goodie bags for guests to take home. According to Gupta, these now include expensive electronic toys such as Xbox game consoles, iPod nanos and Game Boy Advance pocket computer games.

As Ishan's guests boarded their Land Cruisers, they passed the Chattarpur Mandir temple complex, where barely dressed children as young as six paint their faces, sport Hanuman mon-key-god tails and tap on the tinted windows, begging for small change.

According to Pavan K Varma of the Indian Council for Cultural Relations, the discrepancy in wealth will have passed the party-goers by.

"There is a new class in India with more money than ever before. There's no reticence among them about flaunting it. It's glaring in terms of the unacceptable poverty still around us," he said.

"The more invitation cards we send, the more our status and that of our children is assured. It's about hierarchy. The point isn't to celebrate a birthday, but for people to know how you celebrated it."

You think you've got it rough?

Over the last few months, I've realized that things aren't so bad. There have been quite a few changes, but it really could be worse. Like when you find out you're suddenly working nights but then come to appreciate that at least you have two consecutive days off. That's a good thing. Or if you get a schedule you expect to dislike but it lets you see your nocturnal significant other more frequently.

Or when your back paws don't work and there's no way you can leap or pounce, maybe you can figure something else out.

In the center of the rainbow

So I'm spending a few days in south Florida at the Asian American Journalists Association's annual convention.

I made it down here despite a delay that afforded me enough time to enjoy a paraffin manicure. FYI: it's kind of like getting a hand sculptures at the state fair, only not as much fun.

But! Perhaps if the flight were on time, I would not have seen from the plane my first "full-circle" rainbow -- the entire circle, rather than just the bows we kept stumbling upon in Hawaii last summer and in February. Gorgeous.

It reminds me of one of those moments that reinforces the fact that yes, I am getting old. During a tour through Scotland while studying abroad in Stockton-on-Tees at Durham University I was struck by the beautiful scenery, then struck by an entirely alarming thought: I must be an adult.

Because if I were still eight years old, I'd say, yeah, this scenery is nice, but Disneyland is nicer.

Okay, off to bed before a rousing day of workshops and big-picture thinking ...

bad reality tv

I stumbled on Instant Beauty Pageant on the Style Network one night and regret that I can never get that hour of my life back again ... five women randomly approached in a mall and given three hours to prepare for a beauty pageant, complete with gratuitous product placements.

The highlight of the episode I saw: when contestants almost came to blows in the bar of a chain restaurant while preparing (read: doing shots) before the big event.

It was like a bad car accident -- couldn't look away.

Just when you think your life is difficult

stories like this put everything into perspective:

Wide awake, Costa ready to fish again

By Candus Thomson

Sun reporter

July 18, 2007

It took persistence and medicine, but Tim Costa no longer sleeps with the fishes.

Today, unencumbered by two sleeping disorders that forced him from professional bass fishing six years ago, Costa begins his long comeback on the Potomac River in the Stren Series Northern Division competition, a part of FLW Outdoors.

"It's an amazing change. I was so tired all the time for so long that I didn't realize you weren't supposed to feel that way," says the Erie, Pa., native.

Obstructive sleep apnea and narcolepsy - a one-two punch that caused him to fall asleep without warning - made it impossible for Costa to drive his boat or car. He could barely stay awake at his construction job in Plano, Texas, and was a frequent no-show at family activities.

"It was a toxic-type sleepiness," says Costa, 36. "I was living my whole life exhausted, feeling worse when I woke up than when I went to sleep."

Costa admits he was crushed to walk away from his fledgling career in 2001, having worked his way up to 26th place in the Wal-Mart Bass Fishing League. But he insists he could never risk harming others.

This made me happy

When I first opened the box (I get a lot of hopeful promotional items in My Line of Work) I was convinced it's was the ugliest teddy bear I'd ever seen, or as the Redhead said, like it shouldn't be fed after midnight. Now, after consultations with others, I realize it's a sheep, though it could be a lamb. Symbolism works either way, I suppose. Lined in rabbit's fur, though?

Perhaps I should have a Holy Ghost party someday ...

okay, now I'm impressed

Most of the plastic-bag reuse projects I've encountered are heavy on virtue but low on style, except for these plastic bag chickens fashioned by South African crafters. Really gorgeous.

Yup, this makes me go ew.

So, I've been roaming the craft-er sites lately, looking for directions for all kinds of projects I probably won't finish anytime soon. There's some interesting recycling-reclaiming projects out there, with people knitting iPod covers out of cassette tape and fusing plastic bags into raincoats .

But this one really made me want to hurl, and I don't know why, because I've been known to wear an animal product or two, certainly lamb's wool or sheep's wool ... why not cat?

Make felt from pets

parking

So this black girl reads posted about hunting for premium parking spots yesterday.

I'm definitely in one of the first two categories, lot laissez-faire or parking pragmatist. Whenever I find myself hunting for a close spot I think about how I have these perfectly functional legs that might not be so functional someday. When or if that happens, I'll hunt for a good parking spot. Until then, I'll hoof it from the back or the top level ... leaving the closer spaces for the not-so-mobile.

I do believe in parking karma, however. That finding a perfect space without trying indicates that the universe is telling you that you were meant to be in this place, at this time.

As primarily a street parker, however, I have to say that if I could chose a super power, I want the ability to shove cars that are rudely parked in the middle of two parking spaces out of the way to make room for my vehicle.

Many times I travel through my Mount Vernon neighborhood cursing my fellow residents who carelessly stopped their vehicles about a half-car's length away from the no-stopping sign at the end of the block, or some other misanthropic move. I fantasize about leaving notes on the dashboards of mean parkers and others praising the considerate ones.

Can you see me now, eyes clouding over like Storm, as I whirl around and create gusts of wind that gently-but-quickly realigns cars on the street? It would be so great.

The functional-legs consideration also comes into play when debating stairs-vs.-elevator. Some day, I may long for the time when I could dash up a flight of stairs because I can't.

the Enzyme theory of relationships

Apologies in advance for mangling scientific theories for my own personal use.

So let's pretend humans are like atoms, bouncing around in the universe.

Most atoms are at a higher "energy state" when they haven't formed a bond with other atoms. They're kind of tooling around faster, trying to get in the right position so they can share electrons with another atom. Then they kind of 'relax' because they're at a lower energy state. (Are the parallels clear so far?)

But it's hard for atoms to just randomly orient themselves near other atoms in a way for those bonds to form on their own. Most reactions require a certain amount of extra energy, called activation energy, to take place. You do that by adding things like heat, for example.

What enzymes do is reduce the activation energy needed for a reaction to take place by moving atoms and/or molecules close to each other, in the correct orientation for bonds form. Think of atoms like jigsaw puzzle-like pieces that two atoms in a hypothetical reaction would fit into.

"Enzymes" could be anything that helps two people (or more, if you're into that kind of thing) in the situations where they can get to know each other better. Enzymes could be mutual friends, or cooking classes, or social sports leagues, or random parties. Even elevators could be enzymes! You just kind of have to be open to the experience.

There are several addenda to this theory, including one about breakups that parallels one of Newton's first Law of Motion, the one about inertia --- every object in a state of uniform motion tends to remain in that state of motion unless an external force is applied to it.

I swear I came up with this while taking general science classes a decade ago, but I just found this much more detailed similar theory with visual aids.

Won't you take me to

Funkstown?

A Prairie Home Companion

I have to say that although I'm a self-avowed NPR addict, I could be persuaded to change stations instead of listening to all the news from Lake Woebegone. But I can't live without Garrison Keillor's columns. Here's a great excerpt from this week's column:

"Unrestricted immigration is a dangerous thing - look at what happened to the Iroquois. They failed to impose border controls and before they knew it, they were dying of infectious diseases they had no names for. In the case of California, however, it was Spanish before it was English and now it's simply tending back that way."

financial survival

The NYT has published a sequel to its 2006 column advising young people to lay off the lattes and instead put the money that would buy fancy coffee in a piggy bank (read: IRA) that will allow you to survive until you die.

Survival, it should be noted, is what we're talking about here --- not necessarily living a life enhanced by pleasures that Americans often purchase regardless of their ability to pay. Don't eat out, don't buy new things, and maybe you'll be able to take a cab to the doctor's office when you're old, instead of waiting in the rain for the bus. And, if you start being miserly now, you'll be accustomed to that lifestyle by the time you're old.

Thankfully, I'm already doing a lot of what Damon Darlin recommends. I've been saving for retirement in various ways and am debt-free. As mentioned here before, as the Child of Immigrants I have witnessed firsthand the way the frugal methods my parents followed to save the money to establish themselves in this country and grown to appreciate how they instilled those values in me. Today, however, they have the means to live more comfortably but can hardly bear to spend money on themselves.

I would like to use my money for things that are truly important to me. Better writers have said this more eloquently than I do, but money buys safety, security, peace of mind. You also can use money to support your interests, but lately I'm struck by how much money I spend to support my goals indirectly.

Why did I pay others to prepare and serve at least a dozen of my meals in the last week, when I could cook similar food better myself? Why did I go places and struggle to get the attention of someone who could pour me an alcoholic beverage?

Mostly, it's because no one (more or less) lives in my house but me, and it's easier to meet a group of people at a restaurant or bar than to try to organize a gathering. So, I'm paying for convenience --- and like it or not, getting what I pay for.

Then there's the separate issue of missing the big picture. Why do I drive miles out of the way to save a few dollars on groceries and then waste larger sums paying late fees or parking tickets?

My goal this month: to determine the true reasons behind my spending and see whether it's really worth it.

Say it ain't so

Rochester, N.Y. makes the NYT's most-e-mailed list, but wish it weren't for this reason.

Two Failures Do Not End Dreams of a Rochester-to-Toronto Ferry

By FERNANDA SANTOS

ROCHESTER, N.Y., May 23 — Two years ago, this city of 190,000 people — with more per-capita murders, high school dropouts and children living in poverty than any other in the state — paid $32 million for a high-speed ferry. It was considered a way to help revive the local economy by shuttling thousands of passengers a day to and from Canada, across Lake Ontario.

The idea was not a new one, and a recent, short-lived attempt gave cause for concern about the city's venture. In the summer of 2004, two private investors had launched a ferry that took two and a half hours to journey between Rochester and Toronto. But they went out of business after just 11 weeks when low ridership, unexpected breakdowns and rising fuel prices left them unable to shoulder the costs of the operation.

The investors' 770-passenger vessel, the Spirit of Ontario, was seized by creditors and remained moored in the ferry terminal here for months. After no one stepped forward to take over the service, the city bought the vessel in February 2005 and got into the ferry business itself, offering three round trips a day. But the city did no better than the investors, and by the end of 2005, the operation was $10 million in the red.

When a new mayor took office in January 2006, he put the boat on the market. "I had to stop the bleeding," the mayor, Robert J. Duffy, said in an interview.

In many ways, Baltimore is kind of like Rochester squared, but while Charm City always seems to disdain the nearby American capital, the Flower City has tried to capitalize on its proximity to Canada's Gotham. So it's sad to see the fast ferry die ... the Redhead and I took one round trip and didn't think it was that bad. Wasn't amazing, but still.

The Namesake

Not the movie, silly ... funny what a little vanity surfing will dredge up. Loving the creepy robo-dancing and wine glass smashing.

not the kind of thing you'd expect to read in Christianity Today ...

much less on the 'most-read' list ... unless you've added their most-read list to your Google homepage and now know exactly what kinds of those things those Christians be readin' ... but it's interesting, even for you secular humanists out there ...

7 things you need to know about sex

LDRs

So the Divine Miss James has been posting observations this week about long-distance lovin' on her blog, BaltAmour.

I noted that technology like IM and unlimited nationwide cell phone minutes -- and discount airlines -- make LDRs much, much easier to maintain than they probably were in the Pony Express era, when people had to rely on Cold- Mountain-style missives to keep the home fires burning.

I forgot to mention there that all the technology, especially the internet phone service Skype, definitely helps people maintain LDRs over far greater distances than many people would attempt -- even internationally. I have one friend who was based in D.C. but now lives in South Africa with her husband ... they married after about a year apart. Then again, there's the Crab-Kiwi example that definitely didn't work out.

Sometimes I wonder whether LDRs can accelerate feelings of intimacy -- you know, absence makes the heart grow fonder? Or allow a relationship to perpetuate indefinitely because you don't see the things that would lead you to break up sooner.

For example, I talked about how all those Southwest Airlines trips can seem like a honeymoon. But when visits are planned ahead of time, you're totally on your best behavior --- no dirty dishes stacked up in the sink, porn cleaned out of the computer cache (if either of those are deal-breakers for you).

But this doesn't mean surprise encounters are a good idea. I have both surprised and been surprised, and I would not recommend it without intricate support from the significant other's friends. Invariably the other person is busy, or had made plans, plans that do not include you.

I like new friends!

Thank you, sad panda, for introducing me to the lovely resident of Scarlett Place ... I am actively seeking to introduce him, with the assistance of the Redhead and other compadres, to the joy that is Charm City.

addendum to: the Pretty Woman rule?

Speaking of arbitrary lines ... according to other Swingin' Friend, sometimes even boys at speed-dating events abide by the following standard:

I Never Talk On The First Date

People are so impatient nowadays. Everyone's rushing to find someone, get married, settle down, and have kids. Call me old- fashioned, but I...

Doesn't this restore your faith

in the youthful vigor of the Catholic Church?

the Pretty Woman rule?

Okay, so my swingin'-single friend told me something that threw me for a loop today.

She said some guys will mess around with girls but refuse to kiss them, saying they've reserved that intimate act for serious relationships. Because, it's really far more intimate to put your tongue in someone's mouth than your penis ... anywhere. Right, of course.

 

You may recognize this scheme as first voiced by Julia Roberts in the modern-day Cinderella movie Pretty Woman. Did it not seem questionable then, even as a loosely veiled plot device?

 

I also can't believe there are guys out there who are ignoring the proverbial bases (however you define them) and trying to slide straight for home plate.

 

But Swingin' Friend said the phenomena was more of a commentary on where people draw the cheating line ... that somehow arbitrarily 'saving' some acts for a longer-term partner makes it okay to indulge in other acts with your "chick on the side" that most ordinary people would also describe in a randomized survey as intimate.

 

Whatever the justification, a refusal to make out with a fling is a good reason to end what already promised to be a brief encounter even sooner than expected.

turn-ons, turn offs

I like to jokingly respond that my turn-ons are strong hands and windy nights, a combination I swear I wasn't creative enough to come up with on my own. But the meditative state induced by a giant Diet Coke (yuck) and a three-hour drive prompted these realizations, in no particular order:

 

Turn-offs

-- apathy.

 

Damn, I hate it when people don't care. Don't care about this, don't care about that, don't care about anything. I care about a lot of things! I am energetic and enthusiastic, and it kills my buzz when others are nonchalant and oblivious! RRRRR.

 

Turn-ons

 

-- Strong hands (that one's a keeper)

-- doing things.

 

I like people who do stuff, who are good at doing the stuff they do, who can take control and lead. People who accomplish things, even weird things that benefit society in ways that are not immediately perceptible to many people around them. Maybe this, like all my other neuroses, stems from being the Child of Immigrants who don't spend money on stuff like hobbies, but I find myself easily impressed by people I encounter in my Line of Work for this reason as well.

 

The bottom line: I am easily impressed.

 

-- knowing me better than myself.

 

I spend a lot of time thinking and some of that time (not enough) thinking about people I care about. The converse/contrapositive (that freshman-year Logic class seems far away now) is that it's nice to know that others care about me, too. One way people show they care is by showing you are thinking about someone else by doing favors or giving gifts that are nice because they are personal.

 

That is, somehow revealing some knowledge of a conversation you once had or perhaps observing a need this person has ... not because the gift requires a personal loan.

 

Like, the copy of Mother Angelica's biography that I'm giving Mom for Mother's Day ... I get a steady stream of review copies of these books in My Line of Work, so this didn't cost much, but she's going to love it. Don't spoil the surprise!

 

 

 

a great idea ...

or perhaps not.

 

I drove from Charm City to NYC tonight, and something the Redhead called to ask prompted a Great Idea.

 

He asked whether my high school had a special uniform for pregnant students, which it did not -- girls just left when they started to show. Apparently one of his current grad school-mates attended a school that made the pregnant scholars wear special jumpers.

 

I asked her, through him, whether the jumpers featured a Scarlet Letter --- yeah, I've read a little American literature in my time.

Because, in a sense, students were rewarded for choosing to abort their fetuses, because they maintained their privacy about whatever bad decisions they've made in their lifetimes and avoided the embarrassing new outfit (as if most Catholic schoolgirl outfits aren't embarrassing at some level).

 

Actually, my school uniform was pretty cute. But I digress.

 

But my real question was: what did the boys have to wear? You know, the studs who put these woman in the predictament of having to wear a special jumper in the first place.

 

'Cause that's my big problem with abstinence-only programs, and stupid pink billboards with pink bandana-wearing young-ish women proclaiming that they're "not going to give up. And I'm not going to give in." ... they're all directed at women.

 

It takes two to tango, right? Not to speak ill of the dead, but why do we allow society to continue rewarding entertainers who say crap like "I see some ladies tonight who should be having my babies ..."

 

So my not-so-good idea: An embarrassing, unflattering garment for men to wear if they impregnate an underage woman. Picture a volumnous pink sweatshirt with a giant B on it, for "bastard" -- referring to the pop, not the newborn. Make'im wear it every time he's out of the house -- and a need to do laundry is not an excuse.

 

Except, I know what would happen. This would backfire. These ugly things would become status symbols. Society does not shame men who make babies before they're ready to be fathers; rather, it's a (perverted) sign of manhood.

 

Those bastards.

 

 

 

 

Hey! You!

Although I'm not sure I'm down with the heartbreaker msg of this song, the clap-happy beat is very fun. I think some people believe it's a public service to break up couples that aren't meant for each other?

That is a question I've never been able to resolve.

so many new friends ...

So Scrabble fundraiser was a success yesterday. More people walked in than expected, which was nice, despite my counter-programming with the Kinetic Sculpture race and the Maryland Film Festival. The stalker did *not* come, but that's okay. That let the redhead off the hook. And I have no idea who won the pirate cruise, and that's okay, too. I'm glad somebody likes pirates.

But again, here's to all the new friends and connections with people from all over the world I've made and maintained in the last few months, from Argentina and California to Arlington. Hopefully they will rise above the level of acquaintance.

rules of the road

Recently returned from a lovely trip to California, where I met up with partner-in-crime Loh-rider and road-tripped to see M.E.G. and the Mahimanator ... here are some lessons and observations:

1. Fine wines and spirits are a wonderful accompaniment to fine dining, but its best complement is excellent service.

While waiting for our table at Chez Panisse in Berkeley, I had a beer. Then the first of five courses was an aperitif. And, we (I mean Mahiminator) expertly ordered wine with our meal -- delicious salmon carpaccio with fava beans, risotto with mushrooms and squab salad -- and our host brought us a beautifully sweet moscato to enjoy with our strawberry-rhubarb compote with ginger ice milk, to make up for the wait before dinner.

Needless to say, I was toasted.

That may have interfered with my appreciation of the food, but not of the service. Everyone from the maitre d' on was very chatty and friendly. I discussed the local-vore movement with the sommelier, who had only learned the term that day. And a chef (B.?) took us on a tour of the kitchen afterward where we watched them plate food for the staff.

Overall, it was a wonderful experience that I would recommend to others.

2. It's okay to ignore the border patrol. Apparently this is part of California culture that everyone should just accept.

3. Jewelry and makeup can be fun to experiment with, but the best accessory is confidence.

It was so, so fun to spend a day shopping for earrings and necklaces and clothes with the ladies on the edge of SF's marina district ... an activity I usually avoid, due to my issues with commitment. Then we continued on to close out the makeup counter at the Macy's in Union Square. It was tons of fun experimenting, but in the end I contend being comfortable in your own skin is the best beauty enhancer ever.

But this leads to the circular argument: what if you're only comfortable wearing a mask of makeup? And is cleavage too powerful a weapon --- or can it be used for good?

4. Hair-braiding is not as dangerous as massage.

5. Numbers are only as important as you make them.

No matter the measure --- whether it's a man's height, his annual income or his response to certain questions on his census form --- it's probably more critical to consider how the number affects his treatment of you than to focus on what other people will think.

6. In Berkeley, it's appropriate to upgrade your request of a stranger from cancer stick to a little Mary Jane.

7. Get out the map.

Friendships can endure despite distances of space and time. Thank goodness.

the funniest headline in Friday's paper

Peter Falk should not be used as a walk-on

addendum to year in review

I've finally kicked a nasty habit.

It only took about three decades, but I no longer bite my nails. During that (first) fateful trip to Hawaii, perhaps the longest stretch of un-stressed-ness I've experienced, I managed to not chew on the tips of my fingers until they resembled bloody stumps as I usually do. And, I've managed to return to work -- and fairly intense (sometimes self-induced) stress levels without the nail-biting.

Yay!

peep jousting

I first found a reference to this pastime in a WaPo story, but Anica Skywalker tipped me off to this link . Man, newspapers are offering valuable multimedia content these days ... 

Father Crunk

"Roll deep, and buy your own drinks, for one knows not what someone has put in that appletini." --- Fr. Bailey

The New York Times

June 17, 2006 Saturday
Late Edition - Final

A Hard Core, Hip-Hop Spiritual Journey

BYLINE: By BRENDA GOODMAN

SECTION: Section B; Column 4; Metropolitan Desk; Religion Journal; Pg. 5

LENGTH: 892 words

DATELINE: ATLANTA, June 16

Just as the sun started to burn through the smog on a recent Monday morning, the Rev. Ricardo Xavier-Zatwon Bailey, 32, a priest at Holy Spirit Roman Catholic Church here, loosened his collar, slipped on his headphones and rolled up to a radio-studio microphone.

''Yes, party people, it's Father Ricardo Bailey coming at you live and hard core from the basilica at Q-100.''

Sandwiched between songs by the likes of Trick Daddy and the Pussycat Dolls, Father Bailey has a weekly gig on one of the most popular morning shows in Atlanta, ''The Bert Show,'' where he has been introduced to listeners as ''Father Crunk.''

That an ordained Catholic priest might call himself ''Crunk,'' a hip-hop fusion of the words ''crazy'' and ''drunk,'' might seem outrageous enough, but what is really making Atlantans choke on their morning coffee are his radio riffs, which take their cues as much from the pages of People magazine as the Book of Proverbs.

Recently, for example, the subject of his discussion was a rumored bar fight between the tabloid princesses Lindsay Lohan and Jessica Simpson.

After Ms. Lohan supposedly sent a drink to Ms. Simpson that Ms. Simpson, in turn, supposedly ignored, Ms. Lohan supposedly proceeded to berate Ms. Simpson publicly.

Father Bailey saw multiple lessons in this supposed exchange.

''When you go to the club, Atlanta, roll deep,'' he said, advising his listeners to travel in packs. ''That way, people won't be ready to start some drama with you if you've got some homies around. When you go to the club, Atlanta, buy your own damn drink. Like I said before, you have no idea what somebody put in that appletini.''

Father Bailey closed by advising: ''Jesus rose above the drama. So can you.''

Another talk, titled ''Stop Dippin' and Dappin' if You Don't Know What's Happenin','' compared speculation over the paternity of Katie Holmes's baby to the fallout after the Virgin Mary's pregnancy. ''Folks were hating on Mary,'' Father Bailey said. ''They were filling Joseph's mind with the fact that he better kick Mary to the curb because he wasn't that baby's daddy.''

See the Gospel of Matthew, Mark, Luke or John for more details, Father Bailey said, and stop ''fanning the flames of haterology'' with gossip.

When Father Bailey goes on the air with his brand of divinely inspired dish, the telephone lines light up.

The first question from callers has typically been ''Is he for real?'' said Jeff Dauler, a producer and co-host of the show. Then they want to know where and when to find him on Sunday.

Father Bailey, who grew up in the Sweet Auburn neighborhood here, was ordained in 2003.

He insists that he is for real and that his street-smart sermonizing is not for show.

''That's just who I am,'' he said. ''It's not an act. The parishioners are used to it.''

Apparently so. He has become so sought out that the Archdiocese of Atlanta had to give him a dedicated link on its Web site.

His popularity is a great relief to Catholic leaders here, who were not sure that having one of their priests on a radio show that made a name for itself with a gag that outed cheating spouses was such a good idea.

''We were very, very reluctant,'' said Gareth N. Genner, president of Holy Spirit Preparatory School, the school associated with Father Bailey's church. ''There was so much about the show that wasn't a good fit with our mission in terms of the content.''

(The school, in fact, does not let students listen to the whole show. Instead, they get a digital copy of the program and play the 10-minutes of Father Bailey's segment over the loudspeaker on Monday mornings.)

Father Bailey says he is careful to walk a line that entertains but does not stray from Catholic teachings, and he tones it down for Sunday Mass.

As one of just 250 black Catholic priests in the United States, Father Bailey knew he already stood out. He simply decided to use that to his advantage.

Being called ''crunk'' does not bother him, he said, because the word has evolved to mean superexcited or hyped up, not intoxicated. ''When I go to the pulpit and tell people to get crunk for Jesus, I'm not telling them to get 'crazy drunk' for Jesus.''

Still, he knows that not everyone digs his steelo (translation: style).

''I know there are some people who probably have a bad taste in their mouth and say I don't represent what a priest is supposed to be,'' Father Bailey said. Remarkably, he has heard from only three.

Mr. Genner, too, said he had heard few complaints about Father Bailey's approach.

''The only issue we heard is whether we should have been prepared to engage with Q-100 at all,'' Mr. Genner said. ''By engaging with them, we are supporting a media style which is counter to our faith.''

Their rebuttal to those concerns, he said, was that it was important to ''engage culture.''

''You can't lock yourself or your faith in a closet,'' Mr. Genner said.

And Mr. Genner said Father Bailey seemed to be reaching a population that they could not have otherwise engaged.

''We've heard from people who say they haven't been to church in 40 years who come to see Father Bailey,'' Mr. Genner said. ''There are evangelical churches in Atlanta which attract people because of their style and presentation, and I believe Father Bailey is the perfect antidote to that. He tells it to you the way you want to hear it.''


URL: http://www.nytimes.com

where in the world

is Carmen SanDiego?

Not the geography video game, but the PBS game show for kids with the annoying acappella band ...

year in review

I fully intended to post a look back at my life as lived in 2006, but instead here's a rough, belated outline:

1. started the new job at the same company, this time at the office just blocks away from my home. That means I can walk to work, making the world a safer place because I'm not driving in it.

2.  discovered that cars usually work better if you change the transmission fluid more frequently than every oh, say, 100,000 miles. acquired new car (paid in full with parental guilt bonds) that is very very cute. One good friend compares the 2007 Honda Civic to a TicTac, but I feel its design is far superior, more like a Velamint. It's atomic blue (a sky blue shade that coordinates well with its orange turn signals) and has a large digital speedometer that looks like it belongs on KITT. It also allows even the smallest nephew to become a back-seat driver. "Wow, Aunty, you're driving 45? Can you go 100?"

3. Went to new places, including Hawaii, short stays in Denver and Salt Lake City, and returned to some old ones, like Seattle.

more notes on that and other 2006 revelations in future posts. It's nearly 2 a.m. EDT and I sleepy.

solving the mystery

So tonight BJones answered the question that's troubled him since he was a wee pre-teen: what exactly was Eddie Money singing in the chorus of the 80s song "Take Me Home Tonight"?

You know the one. It goes like this:

"Take me home tonight
I don't want to let you go (something something something)
Take me home tonight
Because just like (something something)

And then a woman's voice interjects

"Be my little baby
Baby, my darlin' ... oh oh oh oh oh"

So BJones pulls up the video on the youtube so we can listen to it. JScharp discerns "until you see the light" for the first mystery phrase.

We then search online for lyrics to the song (clearly the easiest way to figure it out) but that's even more confusing.

"Because just like Ronnie says"? Who's Ronnie?

She's the interjecting woman, according to the comments. Wikipedia explains further:

"The Ronettes were a girl group of the 1960s from New York City, best known for their work with producer Phil Spector. They consisted of lead singer Veronica Bennett (a.k.a. Ronnie Spector) ... Their most famous songs include ' Be My Baby'."

"Ronnie Spector accompanied Eddie Money on the 1986 hit song 'Take Me Home Tonight'."


So it's like this song was an early form of sampling! Very interesting. Never picked up on the reference.

the redhead's show

Here's the review of the redhead's show in the CityPaper. 

 

http://www.citypaper.com/arts/story.asp?id=13247

 

Time's Arrow
Group Photography Eloquently Captures The Mercurial Glimmers Of Changes

Here's the good part:

"Ten untitled ink-jet prints from Kelly Egan's "Velocity Series" do take what Furlong sets up and translates it poetically into a still experience. These are landscapes, too--barely extant, wind-swept, flying past, vanishing as if all is essentially lost and irrevocable. They are softly beautiful and coldly worrisome, distressing and serene. "

Here are the details of the show:

http://www.goucher.edu/x15884.xml

"Wishful Re-Thinking," an exhibit featuring photography that reinterprets the idea of landscape, will be on display in Goucher College's Rosenberg Gallery from Monday, January 22 through Wednesday, March 7. The gallery is open from 9 a.m. to 5 p.m., Monday through Friday, and during scheduled events in Kraushaar Auditorium. Call 410-337-6333 for additional hours and directions.

A shocking line

This story is so outrageous ... it's like it's embedded with smaller chunks of outrage, like chocolate chips in a chocolate-chocolate chip cookie.

For example, this line:

"The authorities said Mr. Stiffler and Mr. Snow were shocked, too, and angry about being duped by an adult posing as a minor."

 
So, the would-be pedophiles were upset that a 29-year-old had tricked them into having sex with someone they believed was 12? So they are attracted to children, but weren't happy when they found out they had been satisfying their desires with someone old enough to make adult decisions?

Not that this excuses the adult-posing-as-minor from his other deeds --- including enrolling in the 7th grade at several Arizona schools --- but sheesh. I'm not sure that Stiffler and Snow get to be angry.

Well, Frank is my middle name ...

Now, I know I have a bit of a neurosis about my middle initial. Once I hit confirmation age I rarely wrote my name without it, much less signed anything. I even introduced myself that way. What can I say? My parents blessed me with few syllables, so I tried to include letters as many as possible.

 

But according to this article, Harry S Truman had a lot more to complain about.

 

"Harry S Truman's middle initial led to controversy. Truman's parents could not agree on his middle name, so they settled on the letter S, sans period. Some deemed Truman's lack of a longer middle name as emblematic of his slight stature. How could the short, lightly regarded machine politician sit at the great FDR's desk? As Bruce Kuklick recounted in The Good Ruler: From Herbert Hoover to Richard Nixon, "one frustrated voter exclaimed, 'They say the S doesn't stand for nothing; the whole god-damn name doesn't stand for nothing.' "

 

Now, the Truman family dilemma makes a lot of sense to me. I have many fears associated with production of offspring, including the possibility that I might bestow upon my child a name that becomes connected with a mass murderer or some other awful association during his or her lifetime. As David Wallis points out, even Barak Obama is a victim. I wonder if there are any/many names that have followed the opposite course, moving from infamy to acceptability.

 

The fear of poor name choice, however, is trumped by the fear of producing an axe murderer or serial rapist or mime or boy band member myself.

I'm the [insert carbohydrate here] man!

I'm not ready to concede defeat on a $20 bet I made with my sister over the weekend, about a children's story I remember my parents reading to me. The details are a bit fuzzy, but I remember the oft-repeated phrase "Can't catch me, I'm the Pancake Man!"

My sister remembers nothing of the sort and instead insists that the protagonist of this fable was in fact a gingerbread man, pointing to his recent appearance in the Shrek movies as evidence.

True, a Google search reveals far more references to gingerbread men than flapjack fellows, but I've found at least one example . Someone out there knows what I'm talking about!

Frankly, there's a lot of food on the loose, especially starchy ones, according to this Amazon list . Highlights include The Runaway Tortilla, The Flying Latke and that Hawai'ian favorite, The Musubi Man. Surprised not to see On Top of Spaghetti mentioned but by now you probably can't the first line of the song out of your head.

Listen to it on Scoutsongs.org:

"On top of spaghetti,
All covered with cheese,
I lost my poor meatball,
When somebody sneezed.

It rolled off the table,
And on to the floor,
And then my poor meatball,
Rolled out of the door.

It rolled in the garden,
And under a bush,
And then my poor meatball,
Was nothing but mush.

The mush was as tasty
As tasty could be,
And then the next summer,
It grew into a tree.

The tree was all covered,
All covered with moss,
And on it grew meatballs,
And tomato sauce.

So if you eat spaghetti,
All covered with cheese,
Hold on to your meatball,
Whenever you sneeze."

It's not the size ...

but how you use it.

 

A desi friend sent me this link to a BBC story that could make many South Asian men shudder --- Condoms 'too big' for Indian men : A survey of more than 1,000 men in India concludes that condoms made according to international sizes are too big for most Indian men.

 

Clearly they have not heard of this product .

curse words

Profanity is always exciting... its origins are ripe for urban legands and creative uses (different parts of speech, for example) should be applauded. Here is a link to fascinating commentary about the use of curses in Francophone Canada.

http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2006/12/04/AR2006120401286.html

 

 

a more affectionate form of biological warfare

So, I'm sick. Every day this week I've had symptoms that are slowly assembling (kind of like Voltron) to form a pretty nasty nasty cold. Sunday and Monday, I had a fever. Tuesday and Wednesday brought on a runny nose. Now my nose is so stuffy that my throat is getting scratchy as a result.

 

Actually, I have a fever but no chills, because it's so amazingly hot outside. Over 60 degrees in November, dudes.

 

I'm not the only person in the office under the weather. It seems like everyone independently caught something over the Thanksgiving weekend, probably from small children they encountered during the trip. My own youngest niece spent the weekend, her second as a 3-year-old, charging around dishing out hugs and kisses with abandon, leaving trails of contamination in her wake.

 

The redhead once said that instead of bombs we should send battalions of toddlers to our enemies. Picture it -- swarms of pre-kindergarteners, armed with sippy cups, demanding glue and chocolate, not necessarily in that order, sneezing on every horizontal surface. That ought to bring down even the most dasterdly foes.

the search begins

So, since the sibling-offspring are still too young to read this blog, I can reveal here first that Auntie Santa is going to be packing watches for at least two of the three of them.

Now, I haven't always stuck to my values when purchasing a gift for the kids. I bought A.J. his first GameBoy when he was 3 -- an original (and used) model from eBay. And Kayla can wile away the hours playing Barbie Real Estate Investor because I contributed one of the two hot-pink mega-mansions when she turned 4. But I always debate whether I should yield to the silly commericalization of their society and purchase gender-specific, Disney-fied versions of whatever they're asking for. Then again, the Mickey Mouse watch is classic ...

As I began my quest the 21st century way (with a Google search) I discovered this article about the difficulties of selecting a wristwatch for an Indian child.

" ... please ensure that you are updated with the life of your young one to ensure that when you are out shopping for them, you have it right. You don't want them to sulk away and wish that they had another set of parents."

Just for purchasing an out-of-style watch?!

My own parents and relatives always seemed pretty quick to give small children watches --- sometimes even before the kid had a firm understanding of the passage of time. I always figured watches, like umbrellas, were status symbols in the old country. And the 'rents believed ripping the paper off a present was the most fun of all. The two concepts had merged in one package I opened as a four-year-old, only to discover that Kris Kringle had brought me vitamins, toothpaste and a purse-sized bumbershoot. If that's not proof that the Red Man is a lie, I don't know what is.

Guinea hen, not Constantinople

I think that for as long as I've celebrated Thanksgiving and had a reasonable understanding of geography I've been confused by the coincidence that both a bird and a country are named "Turkey."

A quick search on dictionary.com reveals that turkeys were originally confused with what wikipedia describes in greater detail as a guinea fowl of Turkish origin.

Akeelah and the Bee

I defied usual patterns of behavior moments ago by making it entirely through Akeelah and the Bee without falling asleep, after working until nearly 1 a.m. Saturday morning. Usually, the redhead says, the whir of a DVD sliding into the player is enough to lull me into a deep slumber, but perhaps the skim latte I sucked down at 6 p.m. helped stave off the ZZZs.

 

Anyway, although I'm inclined to enjoy any movie that features Scrabble so prominently, the story of Akeelah, an 11-year-old from the 'hood who gains the love and respect of her family and peers as she prepares for the national spelling bee, was just cloyingly sweet. Probably best suited for those who still can muster that suspension of disbelief so necessary to truly enjoy such a film, such as my 6-year-old niece.

 

The redhead declined to watch it, asking "what's with all the spelling bee movies these days?" There do seem to be several live and film depictions of the contests out there, what with the 2005 adaptation of Bee Season and the musical on Broadway. But he never even saw the best of the bunch: Spellbound, a documentary about kids preparing for the nationals.

 

And who knows? They may someday exist only in fictionalized form. Some people are blaming what's known as the No Child Left Behind act as a good reason to disband spelling bees altogether.

but does it taste any good?

Seems like the nicotini does in fact exist, at least if you believe Google. But how does it taste? Maggie Downs says it's swill.

 

 

Urban Word of the Day: nicotini

Could this really be possible? Would people really serve tobacco-infused vodka, and would people really stave off the cravings with it?

---------- Forwarded message ----------
From: daily@urbandictionary.com <daily@urbandictionary.com>
Date: Nov 9, 2006 7:55 AM
Subject: Urban Word of the Day: nicotini

Urban Word of the Day
www.urbandictionary.com

November 09, 2006: nicotini

http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=nicotini&defid=1952548

An alcoholic drink that includes nicotine as an ingredient. Usually made with vodka in which tobacco has been soaked. Generally billed as an alternative for smokers in smoke-free establishments.

After the citywide smoking ban came into effect, my only option was to drink an occassional nicotini while barhopping.

robocalls

This was a phenomenal election year for robocalls ... I got three from Bill Clinton and one from Jesse Jackson, as well as the usual rings from actual candidates themselves.

 

But I was inspired by this headline on Kevin Cowherd's election column. Imagine if we could robocall all the people who were elected to office and say, "Hi, I'm [insert name here]. Yesterday was Election Day, and I'd like to know I can count on your support for the next [insert length of term here]." Wonder if that would make any difference in the way people use their new or extended power ... or if it would have more of an effect if we could do it randomly and periodically. :]

more minorities on the slopes

My father once told me he had no sympathy for me as I froze in my western NY dorm room because I also voluntarily chose to put myself in the line of danger by going ice skating and leaving the house on holidays such as Halloween and New Year's Eve. But apparently marketers are trying to overcome the biases brown people have against legitimately treacherous endeavours.  

http://www.cnn.com/2006/TRAVEL/10/30/bi.ski.resorts.minorities.ap/index.html

the weight of Indian Cosmo

Good grief! What a way to measure 'progress' or perhaps just progression toward the western norm.

http://www.time.com/time/world/article/0,8599,1552720,00.html

the numbers on those fruit stickers

Hey, who would have thought that these strings of numbers actually served a purpose?

http://www.baltimoresun.com/entertainment/dining/bal-fo.fruitstickers01nov01,0,3389911.story?coll=bal-pe-alacarte

Happy Halloween, take II

Lemme try this again:
Here I am as the Utz Girl at Saturday's party, or perhaps, given my resemblance to Little Orphan Annie, the trendy brown child that all the hip celebrities are adopting these days.

Maybe the outfit was a little on the naughty side, because of the ankle socks and Mary Janes, but it's nothing like the Little Bo Peep Show costumes you've read too much about already.

Happy Halloween

If this works correctly, you'll be able to check out my costume this year ... either the Utz Girl (of east-coast snack food fame) or, given my resemblance to Little Orphan Annie, perhaps I was a "Trendy Brown Child for Celebrities to Adopt". Perhaps it was slightly tempting, with the ankle socks and Mary Janes, but it was nothing like the revealing costumes you've read too much about.

 

 

a quandry

So, I made this low fat broccoli soup tonight, but as usual it seemed like it was missing something ... I realize, now, that the one problem with low fat soup (both the broccoli one and the mizuna soup I made the other night ,substituting the spicy Japanese mustard green for arugula) is that it tastes a lot better when you add some fat to it.

scientists: ghosts, vampires, zombies aren't real

 

thanks for clearing this up, guys!

http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20061026/ap_on_sc/vampire_science

 

Funny, I think this does speak to the inconsistant abilities of superheros in our society. I remember thinking how strange it was that sometimes Superman could withstand the force of an enormous projectile, for example, without flinching but other times would react like he wasn't more powerful than a speeding train.
 

Halloween redux

Some very, very creative costumes out there this year, including:

 

highlights @ the MICA party

--- Crocodile Hunter Steve Kirwin, complete with death-inducing sting ray;

--- Lynndie England (looked great against the backdrop of one student's piece about the Iraq war)

--- a pair of blood thirsty, frightening Republicans;

--- a DickTater (with a potato on his belt);

--- the monster from Lost;

--- Frieda Kahlo;

--- roller girl Natalie Boh and his dog the skunk;

--- Mary Kate Olson and her sister Ashley, represented by a plastic femur bone. or is the other way around?

 

highlights from the work party

--- the most realistic man in drag I've ever seen;

--- green T (Mike W. was not proud of this, but I can't figure out why not)

--- some black-eyed Ps;

--- one woman representing herself from the 80s ... kinda turned out to be a Madonna aesthetic;

--- the Incredible Hulk;

--- a bear and hunter, armed with laser-sight suction dart and shotgun;

--- Jimmie Walker (dyn-o-mite!)

 

but I have to say, when we went encountered lots of college students at Towson Diner afterward, the overall theme there was very slutty for the women ... 

 

I'll post pictures of me and the redhead as soon as I can get someone to download them ... I was very proud of how my costume turned out, and Kelly's was pretty funny too. 

some lists

things I need to purchase ... bears no resemblance to what I actually have purchased in the last month:

 

--- boots: slouchy? platform? pointy toed? the options on nordstrom.com are pretty extensive.

--- straight-legged jeans: only if the boot mission is successful)

--- gloves: I lose one at the end of every winter season, it seems.

--- hat: something I could wear to work and still look vaguely mature, yet not too squishy of the hair.

--- cell phone: so people will stop telling me my phone is ancient.

--- pda: what's the point of a planner that refuses to hot sync with your computer?

--- laptop: to replace the wood burning model I'm using right now, which loads Web pages at the speed of dial-up, despite what I'm paying for a cable modem.

 

stuff I need to do, in no particular order

--- send an invite for the redhead's 30th shindig

--- put away winter clothes I've taken out of storage

--- wash/store summer clothes I've pulled out of the main rotation

--- take piles of clothes to goodwill that were culled from wardrobe months ago

--- clean the house (of course)

--- go to the farmers' market (thank goodness for daylight savings time!)

 

 

 

this is really hard

 

http://www.dallasnews.com/sharedcontent/dws/dn/religion/stories/102106dnrelcelebrityquiz.55399a99.html  

Take our 'Faith of the Famous' quiz

09:44 AM CDT on Saturday, October 21, 2006

By SARAH PRICE BROWN / Special Contributor to The Dallas Morning News

From Hollywood stars to politicians to pro athletes, the rich and famous live their lives in plain view.

But the public usually knows more about what an actress wore to the Emmys, what speaking gaffe an elected official made, or how many points a superstar scored in a game than it knows about what the prominent and powerful really think.

The famous are cultural icons, after all. They're symbols that stand for something larger than themselves. But they're also human, with their own thoughts and beliefs about religion, spirituality and the meaning of life.

How much do you know about the faith of the famous? Take this quiz and find out.

mmm, grass-fed beef

Seems like it's the source of our burgers that are the real problem when it comes to E.Coli on our spinach, not just the farms themselves ...

 

From "The Vegetable-Industrial Complex," by Michael Pollen, NYT magazine, October 15, 2006.

 

http://www.nytimes.com/2006/10/15/magazine/15wwln_lede.html?em&ex=1161662400&en=cd1657b8d8c3e52d&ei=5070

 

"The lethal strain of E. coli known as 0157:H7, responsible for this latest outbreak of food poisoning, was unknown before 1982; it is believed to have evolved in the gut of feedlot cattle. These are animals that stand around in their manure all day long, eating a diet of grain that happens to turn a cow's rumen into an ideal habitat for E. coli 0157:H7. (The bug can't survive long in cattle living on grass.) "

puking pumpkins!

Finally, some creative carvers have found a way to represent the putrid smell of pumpkin guts in jack o'lantern style. The site also has some great ideas for scaring the bejesus out of small children, and at least attempting to thwart the teenagers who show up each year sans costume. That seems like a fruitful Halloween endeavor.

Other great tips, courtesy of links compiled on Al's Morning Meeting: cover the exposed parts -- even the inside -- of a carved pumpkin with petroleum jelly to prevent mold and premature deterioration of your creation.

try this at your next novena

 

http://www.suntimes.com/news/nation/100523,CST-NWS-ros18.article
 

picking up after your SO

Check out the response Dan Savage received for the first letter in this issue of his column. I'm all for equal distribution of labor based on each individual's talents, but how do you reconcile different thresholds for untidy, messy and dirty?

 

"And incidentally, for what it's worth, statistics show that women still do more than their share of unpaid work in heterosexual couples, even when both are employed. The ratio becomes more equal with higher educational status. So this may not be fundamentally a gender issue, but the culture certainly presents us with an apparent uphill battle for women."  -- one response.

Want to feel rich?

Here's a great link, courtesy of the redhead:

 

http://www.globalrichlist.com/

mystery solved

I remember walking up to a recruiter at a college fair and asking "So which came first, Fordham Road or Fordham University?" He didn't know.

 

But now I do, thanks to www.theamazingbronx.com. Read on, and be sure to check out the Web site to learn more about all the exciting people buried in Woodlawn Cemetery.

"The name Fordham dates back to the 17th Century. In 1671, then Governor
Francis Lovelace granted a stretch of land extending 3,900 acres between
the Harlem and Bronx Rivers to Dutch settler John Archer.   Mr. Archer
named his land Fordham, which meant "houses by the ford" or wading place.
This was the only way to cross directly from The Bronx to Manhattan.
After the death of Mr. Archer, his manor was divided into smaller farms and
the area soon evolved into a thriving community."
 

there's a bureacracy for everything

http://www.consecratedvirgins.org/cv/prep/prepappl.html

coffee quotient

I really love Rochester, N.Y.-based epodunk for many reasons. The website is a compendium of information about towns and cities across the United States, often with information about the history behind their names -- starting with the tiny crossroads near Ithaca that is literally Podunk (the term means "swampy"). They often do thought-provoking mash-ups of data, such as the " coffee ratio": the number of Starbucks per 10,000 residents. Who knew Bel Air, Md., was such a haven for the chain? It's got three Starbucks for its 10,080 residents.

Think there's nothing to do where you live? Check out Boring, Md.

coffee shop puns

I've encountered a few in my time -- but they're somehow more acceptable than the "Shear Energy"-style attempts at humor on some hair salons.

-- Common Ground (in Rochester and Baltimore)
-- High Ground (in Baltimore)
-- Patterson Perk (Baltimore)
-- College Perk (College Park)
-- Daily Grind (Fells Point)
-- Moonbeans (Rochester)

Gotta love the job ...

So, yesterday I went to a mosque for the first time. And today, I'm going to the Baltimore Pagan Pride Day. Like, right now. Will compare and contrast the experiences at my earliest convenience.

I'm not kidding

I missed the Rajiv Chandrasekaran book signing but ... this place serves saffron-cardamom ice cream "spaghetti" with rose-scented gulab jamun "meatballs" for dessert.

"Horseman Of The Sex-Tape Apocalypse About To Deliver Screech Scat Video"

 

Here's the latest missive shared by good friend Tima:

---------- Forwarded message ----------
Date: 27 Sep 2006 18:21:45 -0000
Subject: Bloglines - Horseman Of The Sex-Tape Apocalypse About To Deliver Screech Scat Video

Holy cow. I WISH I could be this funny. These guys at Defamer consistently kill me. I love this first line: "Prepare yourselves, for all of Western civilization is about to destroyed by the latest, utterly irreparable tear in the washed-up-celebrity/amateur-sex-tape continuum."

Shit, what a great lede.

---

Defamer LA is the world's cultural capital. This is the gossip rag it deserves.

Horseman Of The Sex-Tape Apocalypse About To Deliver Screech Scat Video In top Prepare yourselves, for all of Western civilization is about to destroyed by the latest, utterly irreparable tear in the washed-up-celebrity/amateur-sex-tape continuum. This morning's news of a forthcoming Dustin "Screech" Diamond fornication video certainly signals the end of days, not only because of the childhood nostalgia-annihilating debasement of its onetime child star, but because of the highly theoretical sex act supposedly performed by a person whose previous on-screen romantic entanglements were limited to a severe case of Lisa Turtle-supplied prepubescent blue balls.* Hoard the bottled water, cans of tuna fish, and currency in small denominations, for it just gets worse from here. Reports Rush & Molloy: Everyone who remembers Diamond as a lovable putz is in for a shock once they see a 40-minute video in which he engages in a kinky three-way with two women, sources tell us. We can't get too graphic here, but word is that the action includes some bodily functions and an act known as a "Dirty Sanchez." Phoenix-based agent David Hans Schmidt, who has brokered some of Hollywood's biggest celebrity-skin deals, confirms that he's acquired the rights to a tape featuring Diamond. "Just when you think you have seen everything in this business," he tells us, "mankind has raised the bar another notch. Or lowered it." [...] Diamond's manager, Roger Paul, said his client has become a successful standup comic and will appear on the ABC sitcom "The Knights of Prosperity." "I haven't seen the tape," Paul told us. "I've heard rumors. Dustin has been trying to escape the Screech typecast. So this may help me get more bookings." The working title? Saved by the Smell. (Yes, really.) You may have been hoping for a more outrageous or clever play on the title, but evil this profound must necessarily come in a mundane package. Of course, this whole story could be nothing more than a publicity stunt to drum up interest in Diamond's comedy career (please?), but we must prepare for the worst. It's better to be huddled in the corner of the basement, counting out a year's supply of canned goods and batteries when the Apocalypse comes, rather than to be outside mowing the lawn while passively waiting for the shower of flaming frogs to pour from the rapidly darkening heavens. [*We refuse to even acknowledge the Tori Spelling/Violet relationship. Haven't we suffered enough this morning?] Porn star's name may ring a 'Bell' [Rush and Molloy] Previously: Screech Is Packing [Defamer]

Mangos for nukes?

So, I saw this thread on chowhound.com. It's a blog of blogs for foodies around the nation and world, recommended to me by a gentleman we'll code-name Yule-babe to ensure his privacy.

Very interesting, this plan ... Not sure whether trading nuclear technology for delicious fruit is an even exchange, but hungry people in this hemisphere will surely benefit.

age in context

I now know how many years I've got on Jennifer Love Hewitt, and how many years Bob Hope had on me.

http://www.frontiernet.net/~cdm/age1

Pandora.com

 

This is worth checking out ...

http://www.pandora.com/

 

The Music Genome Project

On January 6, 2000 a group of musicians and music-loving technologists came together with the idea of creating the most comprehensive analysis of music ever.

Together we set out to capture the essence of music at the most fundamental level. We ended up assembling literally hundreds of musical attributes or "genes" into a very large Music Genome. Taken together these genes capture the unique and magical musical identity of a song - everything from melody, harmony and rhythm, to instrumentation, orchestration, arrangement, lyrics, and of course the rich world of singing and vocal harmony. It's not about what a band looks like, or what genre they supposedly belong to, or about who buys their records - it's about what each individual song sounds like.

Over the past 5 years, we've carefully listened to the songs of over 10,000 different artists - ranging from popular to obscure - and analyzed the musical qualities of each song one attribute at a time. This work continues each and every day as we endeavor to include all the great new stuff coming out of studios, clubs and garages around the world.

It has been quite an adventure, you could say a little crazy - but now that we've created this extraordinary collection of music analysis, we think we can help be your guide as you explore your favorite parts of the music universe.

We hope you enjoy the journey.

Tim Westergren
Founder
The Music Genome Project

I may be cheap

but I'm not that cheap:

http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2006/04/17/AR2006041701426.html?nav=most_emailed

How long does it take to cook an egg?

 

This guy's got the answer ... soft-boiled, anyway. Not as simple as you might think.

http://newton.ex.ac.uk/teaching/CDHW/egg/

 

about Long Island

Found this on a National Park Service website ... I'm amazed the government permits its staff to be so flip. But, is it true?

http://www.nps.gov/sahi/travel/

Sagamore Hill National Historic Site
How to Get There
Theodore Roosevelt selected Sagamore Hill as his home for its remote location, yet today it is accessible from the nation's largest city. Modern day
directions to the site are listed below.

Traveling Trivia:

- Travel on Long Island is best measured in time, not miles.
- The average speed for freeways is about 30 miles/hour. Yes, you might go 70 miles/hour for three minutes, then it's 5 miles/hour for the rest of the trip.
- Getting to Long Island involves paying a toll for a bridge or tunnel.
- Leaving Long Island involves paying a toll for a bridge or tunnel.
- Parkways in New York were designed in the 1930's for use by passenger automobiles. Their low overpass clearances are purposely designed to prohibit
use by recreational vehicles, commercial bus and truck traffic. Their on-ramps and off-ramps can be frightfully short.
- Expressways are open for all traffic which includes recreational vehicles, commercial buses and trucks.
- Many traffic ways in the metro-New York area are prime habitat for concrete construction barriers, orange construction cones and barrels.

so sad

Does Sagamore Hill have any friends? Ask the friends of Sagamore Hill ...

http://www.sagamore-hill.com/morocca.html

Shaking Duck Butt!

 

That butt bears a striking resemblance to Ahiru no Pekkle. But that reveals too much about my past ...

 

http://www.citypaper.com/eat/place.asp?id=5869
 

mmm, pi

Pi is also an acceptable two-letter word in Scrabble, as are the names of all letters.
 

http://www.baltimoresun.com/news/local/bal-md.vozzella12mar12,0,2669856.column?coll=bal-pe-maryland  (last item)

 

It's pi, no matter how you slice it

by Laura Vozzella, Baltimore Sun Staff Writer

If you have a soft spot for infinite decimals or transfats, have a slice of Pi Day at the Maryland Science Center. It's this Tuesday, March 14. (3/14 - get it?)

How in the world do you celebrate the ratio of the circumference of a circle to its diameter? By serving school groups Tastykake snack pies, of course.

Visitors also can help create a Pi Chain, a series of interlocking links that represent numbers in the never-ending sequence. And they can sign a petition asking the U.S. Postal Service to designate Savannah, Ga.'s ZIP (31416) the "official ZIP code of Pi."

Do you think this one's a dry campus?

 

http://www.transy.edu/about/content/people.asp

 

People at Transylvania University

A Transylvania education can put you on the road to a unique destination of your own making. Thousands of students have left Transylvania, gone out in the world, and achieved amazing things ...

http://www.transy.edu/about/content/name.asp

Not THAT Transylvania

Our Transylvania is a friendly, top-notch liberal arts college located in Kentucky's beautiful Bluegrass region—not the region of dark castles and vampires in Romania. Even so, we have fun with our name.

Transylvania is a Latin word meaning "across the woods." The heavily forested territory of western Virginia that became Kentucky in 1792 was originally called Transylvania, and it became our name when the college was founded in 1780.

Our nickname is Transy, which reflects the congenial spirit of our campus.

Bacon Night

 

A colleague described this as a reason to come back to western NY on a Saturday night. I see it as evidence of the pending fall of western civilization.

http://www.thecenturygrill.com/

 

I think this is a better reason to go to experience the pride of New York State, although there's a smaller event at Oregon Ridge Park this coming weekend.

 

http://www.mapleweekend.com/aboutus.html

more pet peeves, debunked

Fellow restroom users, read'em and change your misdirected, squatting ways!

 

Pees and Qs

http://www.citypaper.com/columns/story.asp?id=1871

 

Ladies who spray
If you sprinkle when you tinkle, cut it out!

http://www.salon.com/health/col/roac/2000/05/19/tinkle/

Happy Birthday, Ben Franklin

that is, if he were alive. Here's how to celebrate.

 

http://www.benfranklin300.org/party_planner/index.htm

It's G-A-N-D-H-I, for crying out loud

This guy has the same pet peeve I do ...

http://www.markshep.com/nonviolence/Spell.html

 

CD shelf life

Guys, be warned if you've been burning up a storm ...

http://news.yahoo.com/s/pcworld/20060110/tc_pcworld/124312

 

what William Shatner is listening to

 

Hey, so the Redhead discovered some neat features of iTunes: iMixes and celebrity playlists. Haven't really gone through them all myself yet, but it was surprising to find out William Shatner grooves to Eminem, and Jackie Chan has a song about a potbellied pig ... The iMixes show the most promise of leading other listeners to new music, because anyone can publish a songlist (and all are available for purchase, of course, at 99 cents per song, batteries not included).

Happy New Years

 

Spent the first minutes of 2006 at a good friend's new home, close to the Avenue. Never knew this, but on Hampden's 34th St., they drop a ball, just like in Times Square, except instead of Waterford crystal, the ball is a lump of unidentifiable material, covered in Christmas lights. And a big fat man runs around, dressed in a diaper and baby bonnet. And, there were pirates.