Daniel E Wolf
Today’s Word of the Day is “Forfend.”
Uhhh… You mean…. You mean…. In our inmost nature lies something OTHER than sweetness and light??? Heaven forfend!
Thanks to faithful reader JAK for inspiration on this one. You da man, John!
Also thanks to the NY Times for the inspiring/offending article, here.
As always, comments welcome.
Bonus art below.
Today’s Word(s) of the Day, for all those suffering in the Polar Vortex this week, comes courtesy of the current New Yorker:
Being both cold and sweaty at the same time.
A brand of wet cat food with tuna chunks and peppermint bits.
The exact office temperature that makes Ted happy because he can wear his little Patagonia vest.
When your nose is running and someone else’s nose is running and you kiss.
The community of single gloves living inside the lost-and-found box.
4 ounces mulled cough syrup
2 ounces Bourbon whiskey
1 tsp. rainwater
Fill the glass halfway with snow; garnish the rim with road salt.
A school dance at which someone who is always cold asks out someone who is usually warm.
The coat orgy on the bed during a party.
When you think that the person walking toward you is going to move to your right, so you move to your left, but you both end up moving to your left – and also it’s winter.
A meet-up for single gloves ready to put themselves out there again.
The exact moment in 2023 when global warming will magically reverse itself, according to climate-change deniers.
When a warm smile melts a cold shoulder.
The last, wispy exhalation of a young rosebud prematurely choked by a late frost.
A burned CD that you made on a snow day in middle school, probably.
When the groundhog pretends to see his shadow so that he can go back to bed.
A small but tasteful wedding reception for a pair of misfit gloves who once lost love but have found it again.
The rotation of takeout orders you make to avoid leaving your apartment in February.
When you put your ice-cold extremities on your partner’s warm, toasty body and your partner gets upset for some reason.
Chex Mix laced with freshly fallen snow.
My favorite? I’ll give you three guesses…
Yours?
My Airbnb guest this week is in town for the Unified Wine and Grape Symposium at the Convention Center. But today I thought I’d take a break from alcohol-related posts to focus instead on a different sort of fermentation: cheese. Specifically, Parmigiano-Reggiano cheese. You can read all about it here, from the BBC. Parmigiano-Reggiano is a subject that’s perfect both for foodies and Italophiles and I happen to know a slew of both of these types of folks. As for the supposed health benefits? You decide. Me, I just like eating it! And what better to go with a nice bottle of… well, you know.
Photo Credits: Amanda Ruggeri
In the 1984 movie The Right Stuff (based on Tom Wolfe’s novel of the same name) Sam Shepard plays test pilot Chuck Yeager, who ultimately was bypassed for the astronaut program in favor of guys like John Glenn. In a famous line from that movie, Shepard/Yeager refers to Glenn and his fellow Mercury astronauts as “spam in a can” (see trailer, here). Turns out, in addition to being a pretty good test pilot, Yeager was a prophet.
This is one of those “Do you remember where you were when you heard the news?” stories. On This Day in History, 1986… The Challenger Explodes.
I was driving a SuperShuttle van at LAX. One of my passengers had a transistor radio turned on in back. Yes, people actually still carried around transistor radios in 1986. Imagine that.
The doomed Challenger flight of January of 1986 marked the first time that “a regular citizen” was selected to go up into space. In this case, it was 37-year-old high school social studies teacher Christa McAuliffe – certainly no test pilot. After the disaster, she and the six other Challenger astronauts were mourned, and celebrated as national heroes. But Yeager’s “spam” pronouncement rang prophetically true. As it did again in the 2003 Space Shuttle Columbia disaster, which claimed the lives of seven more of NASA’s finest.
Chalk it up to instant serendipity I guess: One of my subscribers sent me this YouTube link in response to my post Nemesis. Then today, I find the following This Day in History for January 27, 1970 – on the making of John Lennon’s solo single “Instant Karma.”
Spooky, eh?
Bonus “Let It Be” content here – because I like Sir Paul as much as I do John.
Sorry Ringo & George – you’ll just have to wait your turn.
Stories like this really make my day: On This Day in History, 1935…
First canned beer goes on sale!
In partnership with the American Can Company, the Gottfried Krueger Brewing Company delivered 2,000 cans of Krueger’s Finest Beer and Krueger’s Cream Ale to faithful Krueger drinkers in Richmond, Virginia…
The response was overwhelming. Ninety-one percent of the drinkers approved of the canned beer. This drove Krueger to give the green light to further production. Within three months, over 80 percent of distributors were handling Krueger’s canned beer. Krueger’s was eating into the market share of the “big three” national brewers – Anheuser-Busch, Pabst and Schlitz. Competitors soon followed suit. By the end of 1935, over 200 million cans had been produced and sold.
The purchase of cans, unlike bottles, did not require the consumer to pay a deposit. Cans were also easier to stack, more durable, and took less time to chill. As a result, their popularity continued to grow throughout the 1930s. Then it exploded during World War II when U.S. brewers shipped millions of cans of beer to soldiers overseas. After the war, national brewing companies began to take advantage of the mass distribution that cans made possible. They were able to consolidate their power over the once-dominant local breweries which could not control costs and operations as efficiently as their national counterparts.
Today, canned beer accounts for approximately half of the $20 billion U.S. beer industry. Not all of this comes from the big national brewers: Recently, there has been renewed interest in canning from microbrewers and high-end beer-sellers, who are realizing that cans guarantee purity and taste by preventing light damage and oxidation.
And the rest, as they say, is canned beer history – Cheers!.
Today’s Word of the Day is “Nemesis.”
2 plural nemeses\ ˈne-mə-ˌsēz
An old nemesis of mine recently died of brain cancer. He was about my age, just shy of sixty. He wasn’t an all-bad guy and he wasn’t exactly a rival. But he did at one point very publicly betray and humiliate me. That turned him from one I considered – if not a close friend and ally, then at least one I regarded neutrally – into one of whom I said with venom, “May you die a painful death.” Sometimes – through no agency or action of our own – those kind of words have a way of turning true.
My nemesis was an Air Force veteran, a paramedic, and later, a firefighter. This last was actually the root cause of the tumor that eventually killed him. He participated in many a toxic clean up after fires on the bases where he served. Given how rare in the general population this kind of cancer is, the causal link between some of those chemicals and glioblastoma multiforme for firefighters has now been pretty firmly established. Which is only to say that the seeds of his demise were sown long before I ever met him: My evil-eye had nothing to do with it.
His family first knew something was wrong when, on a mountain bike vacation trip up the Kilauea volcano in Hawaii, he started swearing a blue streak. Usually circumspect and mild-mannered, this was totally out of character for him. After the necessary scans, he was diagnosed and given a lousy prognosis. This is the kind of cancer you really don’t want to have.
Being a fighter at heart, he opted for aggressive treatment options that included multiple “debulking” procedures. That’s what they call tumor surgery when the tumor you’re going after has no hope of complete removal or cure. These surgeries left his head wrapped like a mummy in gauze. In addition, he also joined experimental chemotherapy clinical trials. The family even moved houses to be closer to the docs at Anschutz Medical Center where he was being treated. It was all to little or no avail. He died just under three years post-diagnosis.
The Greeks – as with many cultures both ancient and modern – have a deeply ingrained sense of retributive justice. It’s not just “an eye for an eye” or “a tooth for a tooth.” Those particular Old Testament formulations were actually a measured and progressive advance from alternatives common at the time they were first written. No, the Pagan baseline was this: You screw with me in any way, shape, or form… and I will kill you. Then, I’ll kill your children. And if you have them, I’ll kill your grand-kids too. Then, I’ll burn down your village and salt your fields – thus making them unusable for the next, oh, say, 100 years or so. And then, just for kicks, I’ll throw a dead cow down each of your village’s wells to foul the water supply (ditto). So, better not screw with me: Capische?
We’ve seen a shift in this country of late from more measured Judaeo-Christian forms of conflict resolution back toward the Greek goddess Nemesis, and let me tell you, it’s not pretty. <I’m not naming any names here. Lord knows, there’s plenty of that stuff available on the Internet for those who seek it.> All I’m saying is, forget about a higher standard like “We forgive those who trespass against us” or “Love your enemies.” Notions like those are no longer just quaint, they’re unthinkable. Maybe they always were? I dunno.
<Hey, gimme a break here, I don’t make this stuff up – I’m just the messenger!>
So, what’s a proper response when an old nemesis dies a painful death? We could gloat, I guess. Say “He got what was coming to him.” Say, “See what happens when you betray people?” But by any fair or just rendering of the facts, this kind of response just isn’t tenable – for if it were, we’d ALL be keeling over with brain tumors – or worse.
<Again, I’m not naming any names… but you know who you are!>
There is another way, of course – a different path. “Mercy triumphs over judgement” is how the epistle-writer James puts it. This isn’t exactly “forgive and forget,” but neither is it pissing on a nemesis’ grave either. How about this: Instead of nursing an old grudge, inquire after (or indeed, work to ensure) the health and well-being of the nemesis’ widow and orphan? You don’t have to pen a glowing eulogy for the guy. But why not – in place of salting his fields – maybe plant a small tree in the fallen foe’s honor? Maybe one with a tasteful little plaque underneath, just to remind people of, you know, a salient detail or two? What could that hurt? Are we really so insecure that we’ve got to place our enemy’s head on a pike at the city gates just to show everybody what’s what and who’s who? I mean, REALLY?
OK, I admit, maybe it’s a bit more than “just a messenger” here. Think of this post as a newly planted tree, perhaps. A small one with a tasteful bronze plaque underneath. Over the course of time, add a bit of water and some sunlight – who knows? Out of that black dirt something good just might grow. There are worse things in this old world, you know. And we don’t have to travel far down the road to see them.
Today’s Word of the Day is “Duvet.” Turns out, to get the definition for this one, you need “Comforter” too. Whodathunkit?
I had an Airbnb guest tell me the other day that I ought to “keep my duvet covered” so I “wouldn’t have to wash it so often.”
My first reaction was, “Madame, when have you ever seen my duvet?” And my second was, “I’ll have you know, Madame, that my duvet is pristine. In fact, I’ll wash it just as often as I like!”
One of the reasons I make such a great Airbnb host is that, when talking with guests, I never say the first thing that occurs to me – and very rarely the second. <There are those Twitter-hounds in public life who could benefit from such a strategy – but I digress.>
Clearly in this case a quick trip to the dictionary was warranted. Turns out, neither “toochis” nor “keister” was anywhere to be found under the heading of “duvet.” I did, however, find it fascinating to discover the Holy Spirit at (1a) under “Comforter.” You learn something new every day.
In any case, I’m sure you will be glad to know that both my arse and my duvet are now completely covered.
As for the washing schedule… <wait for it> …
It’s still TBD.
😉
OMG, I just love stories like this… “The name is Bond. James Bond.”
Fans of the iconic <and seemingly never-ending> Albert/Cubby Broccoli series of British spy movies will not only recognize the line itself, but will hear it in their heads complete with full Sean Connery / Roger Moore / Timothy Dalton / Pierce Brosnan / Daniel Craig inflection.
Bonus question: Name one other actor – besides the ones listed – to have played Bond in the movies. Hint: The movie was “On Her Majesty’s Secret Service.” Prize for the first correct answer is a free subscription to dewconsulting.net/blog. Oh, no, wait, that’s already free. OK then, the prize will be the satisfaction of knowing you know more than the average Bear about Bond – James Bond. <Truth to tell: Perhaps you know a bit too much? But I digress.>
But back to This Day In History, 1976 – The Concorde Takes Off. For Bond fans, this story has literally everything. And if you don’t believe me, read on… if you dare.
At their cruising speeds, the innovative Concordes flew well over the sound barrier at 1,350 miles an hour. This cut air travel time by more than half. The flights were the culmination of a 12-year effort that pitted English and French engineers against their counterparts in the USSR. In 1962, 15 years after U.S. pilot Chuck Yeager first broke the sound barrier, Britain and France signed a treaty to develop the world’s first supersonic passenger airline. The next year, President John F. Kennedy proposed a similar U.S. project. Meanwhile, back in the USSR, Soviet leader Nikita Khrushchev ordered his top aviation engineers to beat the West to the achievement.
There were immense technical challenges in building a supersonic airliner. Engines would need to be twice as powerful as those built for normal jets. The aircraft’s frame would have to withstand immense pressure from shock waves and endure high temperatures caused by air friction. In the United States, Boeing tackled the supersonic project but soon ran into trouble with its swing-wing design. In England and France, however, early results were much more promising.
In 1965, the French arrested Sergei Pavlov, head of the Paris office of the Soviet airliner Aeroflot, for illegally obtaining classified information about France’s supersonic project. Another high-level Soviet spy remained unknown, however, and continued to feed the Soviets information about the Concorde until his arrest in 1977.
On December 31, 1968, just three months before the first scheduled flight of the Concorde prototype, the fruits of Soviet industrial espionage were revealed when the Soviet’s TU-144 became the world’s first supersonic airliner to fly. The aircraft looked so much like the Concorde that the Western press dubbed it “Konkordski.”
In 1973 the TU-144 came to the West to appear alongside the Concorde at the Paris Air Show at Le Bourget airport. On June 3, in front of 200,000 spectators, the Concorde flew a flawless demonstration. Then it was the TU-144’s turn. The aircraft made a successful 360-degree turn and then began a steep ascent. Abruptly, it leveled off and began a sharp descent. Some 1,500 feet above the ground, it broke up from over-stress and came crashing into the ground, killing all six Soviet crew members and eight French civilians.
Soviet and French investigators ruled that pilot error was the cause of the accident. However, in recent years, several of the Russian investigators have disclosed that a French Mirage intelligence aircraft was photographing the TU-144 from above during the flight. A French investigator confirmed that the Soviet pilot was not told that the Mirage was there, a breach of air regulations. After beginning his ascent, the pilot may have abruptly leveled off the TU-144 for fear of crashing into this aircraft. In the sudden evasive maneuver, the thrust probably failed. The pilot then tried to restart the engines by entering a dive. He was too close to the ground, however, and tried to pull up too soon, thus over stressing the aircraft. In exchange for Soviet cooperation in the cover-up, the French investigators agreed not to criticize the TU-144’s design or engineering.
The Concorde was not a great commercial success, however. People complained bitterly about the noise pollution caused by its sonic booms and loud engines. Most airlines declined to purchase the aircraft. Just 16 Concordes were built for British Airways and Air France. Service was eventually limited between London and New York and Paris and New York. Still, luxury travelers appreciated the less than four-hour journey across the Atlantic.
On July 25, 2000, an Air France Concorde crashed 60 seconds after taking off from Paris en route to New York. All 109 people aboard and four on the ground were killed. The accident was caused by a burst tire that ruptured a fuel tank, This created a fire that led to engine failure. The fatal accident – the first in Concorde’s history – signaled the decline of the aircraft. On October 24, 2003, the Concorde took its last regular commercial flight.
Why, it’s the Bond Girls, of course. Let it never be said we here at dewconsulting.net/blog leave you in the lurch. A selection follows, one from each decade: From Honey Ryder in the ’60’s, all the way to Severine some sixty years later. Enjoy.
Why on earth was the Concorde never featured in a Bond film?
Hmmmm…. Sure seems like a natural fit to me!
I have posted on the Midtown Farmers Market at 20th and J Streets before (see: here). Inspired by a break in the weather Saturday, I sat outside for lunch at Jacks Urban Eats (20th and Capitol). Then I decided to dig out more Farmers Market photos. All were taken by my favorite photographer (see: below). Some are framed and hang on our walls.
A sampling…
