The Great Pumpkin (and friends) visit Wilmington

George--the owner of the property--says he does it for the grandchildren. Oh yes.

Money tree

Somewhere in political lala-land  there is a "money tree"--something that continually, endlessly, and painlessly gives off money.   The money tree, like its animal counterpart, the cash cow, is just waiting to be found.

Voters in New York thought they had discovered a money tree in a state lottery.  The lottery was enacted into law in New York, but failed to put an end to the state's fiscal woes.  Several years later, the voters in New Jersey--one of whom was me, sad to say--thought they had spotted this exotic form of flora in legalized gambling.   Er, no.  Atlantic City gambling was legalized but the state still has empty pockets.

Now California thinks they have discovered the identity of this new form of plant life in the legalization and  taxation of cannabis.  The best of luck to them.

This smells fishy to me

Insulting Muslims with bacon.

Maybe it's true, but this seems like a manufactured scandal to me, like the Tawana Brawley hoax or the fake noose hanging from the Columbia professor's door.

Making words out of bacon?  You'd get your hands awfully greasy.

From instapundit.

A gift for Andrew Cuomo

Could the New York State Republican Party really run an idiot like this?

Yup.

The New York Republicans are famous for putting up real loser candidates for Statewide office.  They figure they're not going to win anyway, so they put up a rich guy who can lose his own money in the campaign, saving their money for--what?

Not from Nigeria

aA new con, this time from Japan:

Greetings,

I am sorry to encroach into your privacy in this manner, I found your
listed in the Trade Centre Chambers of Commerce directory here in Japan, I
find it pleasurable to offer you my partnership in business,

I only pray at this time that your address is still valid. I want to
solicit your attention to receive money on my behalf. The purpose of my
contacting you is because my status would not permit me to do this alone.
When you reply this message, I will send you the full details and more
information about myself and the funds.

If interested, please reply through my alternate
Email:tomsandnor@w.cn

Mr. Tomo Sand Nori
(Head of Account Dept, Tokyo Mitsubishi Bank,

Mr Tomo Sandf Nori sounds a bit dispirited.     He seems to lack confidence in himself, an indispensible quality in a con man.  Please send him e-mails to cheer him up.

What I want to know is...

...is his game improving?

No sweat

No.  I mean really.

Retread

I was gobsmacked when I realized that the chap running for governor of California on the Democratic ticket is none other than Jerry Brown.  I remember him from the days when he and I were both young.  I was a mere slip of a thing, and he was governor of California,  known  by the voters of California as "Governor Moonbeam."

A strange lot, the voters of California.  This man has been mayor of this and auditor of that and treasurer of the other thing.  The one career he has never tried was a nine-to-five in the private sector.  But his re-appearance on the stage is a near miracle, akin to the endurance of Rasputin, the sinister Russian monk who survived many attempts to kill him back in the day.  He is like a clapped-out hooker of 70 still proudly displaying her wares by the side of the road, next to the teenaged competition.

Can we have a cost breakdown on this?

Where does your student dollar go?  Here's the way I imagine it:

40 %  for administration (Vice Presidents in charge of Diversity, Sexuality, Legalizing Marijuana, etc.);
20 %   on upkeep (janitorial service, grounds maintenance, heat, air conditioning, water, library);
10 %  for student activities--such as bus transportation to Obama rallies for which they get credit;
25 %  for tenured faculty;
5 %  for adjunct faculty (aka slave labor) who actually do the work.

  I'd like to see this on a pie chart.

Stolen from instapundit.

disgusting commercial

You  know the yogurt commercial where a bunch of women are licking yogurt lids and putting them in envelopes to mail?  I feel sorry for the poor wage slave who has to open these envelopes with their yogurt residue and their icky disease-ridden saliva.

Haven't the people at Yoplait heard of germs?  I would as soon open an envelope laced with anthrax.

I dislike yogurt commercials generally.  There's one, with Jamie Lee Curtis, where a man is speaking with his mouth full.  And another where Heidi Klum pokes her finger in the yogurt container and sighs orgasmically.  Also on my list of the top ten stomach turners is the discussions of various people's digestive systems so dear to the heart of many advertising creative geniuses.

Let's keep it clean.

Exploding climate skeptics

When I saw this video, I I really thought it had been done by our side.  (You know, the tire-burning, carbon-emitting  crazed rightwingers.)

The global warmists actually thought this would persuade people?

Brotherly love

Perhaps you could call it sibling rivalry.

Oops! Forgot to mention that I am indebted to Tim Blair for the link. (Grovels.)

What do Conservatives believe?

On one of the Sunday Fox talking heads shows, Juan Williams opined that the mullahs are "even more conservative" than Ahmenwhatshisface. You know, the Iran Prime Minister, who regales us with the latest message which Allah has just communicated to him.

Since when is a religious nut "conservative"? Did Bill Buckley advocate burying women up to the waist and pelting stones at them? Did I miss the column in which he discussed this practice? Has Charles Krauthammer come out for burqas lately? Does Sarah Palin believe in police shooting down protesters in the street?

Conservatism is a noun that means something specific. Consult a dictionary if you don't understand the meaning of this word. It is not a term of obloquy for everything that is reprehensible. Yet it used interchangeably with "Nazi" and "fascist," terms which, as now used, to label people liberals don't agree with, are essentially meaningless.

Muddled speaking leads to muddled thinking.

Facebook? Twitter?

People occasionally e-mail me that they are following me on Twitter. I am flattered, but I don't know why. Yes, I have a Twitter account, also a Facebook page. Also a Myspace page. I suggest you avoid all of them. They are extremely boring.

I am a boring person, with a life that would be extremely boring to others, although I find it interesting enough. Once in a while, I paint a picture or take a photograph. I usually post these on my blog.

Often, I read a book I enjoy. When I do, I usually finish it up and give it to someone else who I believe would like it. Occasionally I will mention a book I have read. Writing reviews requires some effort, which I am not willing to expend on reviewing a forgettable book. if I review a book, it is because I find it valuable, charming, or interesting. Most of them I read and forget.

If you are interested in what I have to say, follow me on blogger or my atom feed (whatever that is) or Google reader.

Did I mention that I enjoy getting comments?

1920's (?) bathing beauty

 

One of Mr Charm's aunts, in a playful mood.

Jobs program

The Taconic State Parkway used to be a major road leading from the Massachusetts border to New York City. Years ago, when the New York State Thruway was built, traffic was diverted, and hardly anyone takes the Taconic any more, preferring a modern highway with tolls and heavy traffic. Don't ask me why--can the people who voted for Eliot Spitzer have their reasons?

So I am driving down the Taconic State Parkway, zipping along nicely at 70 miles per hour. There is one vehicle in sight, ahead of me, and no-one coming in the opposite direction as far as the eye can see. Long story short, a state trooper stops me and issues an expensive ticket, and I have to send a certified check for a lot of money to some jerkwater town in Upstate New York.

I am appalled by the witlessness of this entire transaction. I was not drunk, I was not on drugs, I was in total control of the car, I was not endangering myself or others. If I had hit somebody at 55 mph they would be just as dead as if I had been going 70.

So what's the rationale? The State trooper is paid a lot of money to stop people like me, so the State can get enough money to pay the trooper, who then has to stop more people like me so that State will have enough money to pay his salary.

Okay, I figured it out. It's a jobs program! All these people--the trooper, the clerk who sends out the notice, the judge who presides over the court, the bank which issues the certified check, and the mailman who delivers it, and goodness knows who else--are productively employed.

I'm proud I could do my part! Otherwise, unemployment might be at, oh, 50 percent, maybe, instead of 9.6.

New painting

 

I like the colors, but I need a new vase. I've painted this one over and over.

This just in:

Hold the presses!

Fed wants your input

in creating new fuel economy labels.

Why don't they just hook up Obama's mouth to a generator. He never shuts up. His yadayada could power a small house.

Okay, just a trailer. But it's a start.

Stolen from instapundit.

Horrifying

in every respect.

Why didn't they give the money to the library?

Don't be silly.

How much easier would it have been

not to offer degrees in "creative writing" at all?

That noise you hear is their little pea brains rattling around in their heads. I can't believe that the students learn anything worth knowing in this atmosphere. But then, I don't believe you can teach illiterates "creative writing."

It's a jobs program, like the WPA.

Welcoming the 26-hour fast

We Jews really know how to party, don't we?

On an unrelated note, where are all the commenters? Let me know if you are still alive.

Embracing ignorance

Free public libraries are a unique American institution. So let's close them, shall we? Ignorance is so much more worthwhile.

Library users need their own union, like teachers.

Yesterday's election in Delaware

First, let me make clear that I am not up on Delaware's partisan political scene. I voted once--once--in a Republican primary before yesterday, because a very nice man came to my house and asked for my vote. (He lost.) Often primary day came and went without my participation. I didn't bother to vote because I am more concerned with the Great Issues and ignorant about local issues. Why just pull a lever for someone I know nothing about? So I let the primaries pass me by.

This time I wanted to vote because it seemed that Mike Castle had a chance of winning the seat away from the Democrats. He was pretty wishy-washy, but we in Delaware like them that way. If we want entertainment, we can listen to Joe Biden make a fool of himself. Castle was bland and soothing.

When I got to the polls there was quite a crowd, or what passes for a crowd in Delaware: a smallish assembly of well-behaved quiet people. But though they wouldn't raise eyebrows in New Jersey,it was a crowd by Delaware standards. I counted at least eight people, besides the election officials. That was seven more than the turnout last time I voted in the primary.

I got the feeling that these people were stirred up, in their courteous and civilized way, and I was sure that most of them did not turn up to vote for Mike Castle. I got a sense that they showed up to vote against Mike Castle. I figured he would lose, and he did.I had a feeling that many more people turned up
because they wanted to vote against anybody.

My support of Castle was pretty lukewarm, but I was surprised by the victory of O'Donnell, who has been a perennial candidate ever since I moved to Delaware, running for anything and everything. Well, this time she won the lottery.

Castle's reaction was very surprising, though. I thought he would act the gentleman and vow to support the winner. That's how professionals do it. Better men than he have conceded defeat. But he chose to act like a sorehead. That kind of behavior is just plain mean.

So maybe the voice of the people is the voice of God?

Longwood Gardens, September 16, 2010

 

 

 

 

Photos taken with my iPhone.

Crazy house in Massachusetts redux

Remember the crazy house in MA, lived in by the friend of my friend, Eve? Well, the crazy house is no more. Eve's husband died, and Eve has Moved On. The house was sold to someone who wanted to tear it down, and did.

Eve was lucky. She sold the house at the top of the real estate boom and made a lot of money. With the proceeds she bought herself a very nice condo in a desirable neighborhood of Boston. My friend visited her shortly after she moved in and reported that the apartment was really nice. Eve apparently left the Jergens' lotion bottles, old clothes, and grand piano back in the teardown. She could hardly have fitted it all into the new condo, she would have had to purchase all 24 flats in the new building.

Peace and harmony reigned. But not for long. A cloud no bigger than a man's hand hovers over the new place. Our mutual friend visited recently and reported that Eve had begun to furnish her new home with large cartons in which she was storing everything that had come in the mail which she had not had time to look at.

She only had a few of these cartons last year. This year, a visit revealed that the number of cartons had increased. Eve is well on her way to recreating the ambiance of her old house, little by little.

A pity she had to get rid of the grand piano.

The whole country goes nuts.

Up to and including the president.

President Obama starts pleading with that nutty Florida minister to knock off his idiotic plan to burn Qurans.

Obama said the act would incite terrorists "to blow themselves up."...

but... nobody burned Korans before 9/11, or the first World Trade Center attack in 93.

There was no Koran barbecue prior to terror attacks in Argentina, Kenya, Greece, Saudi Arabia, Spain, Turkey, London, Lebanon, Italy or Germany.

The victims there didn't ask for it.

So why are the President, Secretary Gates, and General Petraeus all pleading with this minister not to burn Korans--thus elevating this loony pastor to the status of the despicable Fred Phelps?

The response to Rev Jones's unseemly plan is dignified silence. Petraeus, Gates, and Obama should treat him the way the media treats the tea party; not notice them for as long as possible, then heap them with contumely and scorn.

I am particularly annoyed at Petraeus behaving like an old lady who has spotted a mouse on her pillow. I can only say, in the words of Lady Macbeth: Fie, my lord, fie! A soldier, and afeard?

Sibling rivalry

I'm always writing about my mother's family, which is understandable because we lived near them and we saw more of them. Maybe a little too much.

But fair is fair, so I want to direct your attention to my father's side of the family. The cast of characters:

Grandma, who spent her final 40 years of life in bed;
Grandpa, rabbi and sometime streetcar conductor;
Helen, oldest child and only daughter, who took over the household when her mother went to bed;
Al, oldest brother, of whom I know nothing except that he had perfect pitch and played the drum;
Ed, next brother in line and the family black sheep;
and my dad, whom I will call Nat, the baby, continually striving to measure up to Ed.

Ed and N had a fairly fraught relationship. A lot of it was about sports--who could pitch better, who could hit the ball farther, who could beat who in tennis, and so forth. Nat was puny and small, and Ed picked on him, even breaking his arm in a dispute over a baseball game. When they grew up, they stopped plotting to kill each other--Nat got old enough and big enough to defend himself-- but still had a fairly intense relationship in which each tried to outdo the other.

When they visited each others' homes, they tried to outdo each other in hospitality. You were sure to get a good feed at Nat's house when Ed was in town. Upping the ante, Ed would take everybody out to a trendy restaurant, sparing no expense on food or wine. Ed's daughter got into a good college. Nat's son, who was about the same age, got into a better one.

When Nat was about 89 he had a heart attack and was hospitalized. He left the hospital against doctor's orders so he could host a party for Ed and show him what nice friends he had. After the party, he went back and had a bypass.

Ed lived to the age of 97. I knew Nat would never let that record stand. Undefeated, he has made it to 98. So Nat won.

Rev Wright is back...

and this time he's using good grammar. No more ebonics.

I knew he could use correct English if he really, really tried.

Woman with spine curvature

 

Does this woman (from a sales flier for Spanx) have scoliosis, or has her picture been photoshopped? How in the world did she manage to twist herself into that amazing posture? And why is one of her arms longer than the other?

She looks as if she's been sculpted from some bendable material, not flesh. Creepy.

Berries on a dogwood tree

 

Great posters

from the London Transport Museum.

Longwood Gardens, end of August

 

 

Taken with my cell phone.

I don't like Labor Day

It depresses the hell out of me. Labor Day seems to have a kind of hammer and sickle motif, but it doesn't stand for anything, really. It doesn't invoke any historic events or major heroes, like Memorial Day or Martin Luther King Day--it just a made up holiday, a bone thrown to unions.

Also, it marks the end of summer and the onslaught of bad weather. Soon the leaves will fall from the trees. Dreary.

And there was Jerry Lewis--does anyone else remember his ghastly telethons in aid of some charity? And felt annoyed because it was for a good cause, so you felt guilty for hating him?

Glenn Beck and that old time religion

The massive Beck rally makes me uneasy. It is uncomfortably close to a Christian revival meeting with a Come-to-Jesus sub-text.

Why must religion come into it? Our Founding Fathers were not literally Christians but deists. They believed in natural law, not messianic religion, whereby only Christians (or Muslims) can achieve salvation. In fact, our country is not about heavenly salvation, but about governance which respects the rights of all men to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness on this earth.

Whenever a strong Christian element enters the discourse, I think of the Crusades. Maybe the Crusades saved Christendom, but when it was all over and the infidels were vanquished, a lot of innocent Jews were dead.

Collateral damage? Well, yes, but I don't want me and mine to be collateral damage, even inadvertently.

It's all about Me

Cynthia Grenier reviews a book about four tipplers.

I got to know some of these worthies in varying degrees of acquaintanceship during the sixties and seventies. ....At that time I wrote a column reviewing films and theater three times weekly in the International Herald Tribune. Burton read me, found he agreed mostly with what I had had to say, and began passing me scripts he was receiving practically every day to get my reactions.

Friendship with Elizabeth was slower to develop, but before long, we two females were merrily referring to “your Richard” and “my Richard” (Grenier). Our two Richards found quite a bit in common—apart from drink—and Burton wound up giving “my Richard” a very fine jacket blurb for his first novel...

Then a bit of inside information which the average clod is not in a position to know, not being a friend of celebrities:

In passing, let me note that the author rather irritatingly keeps referring to Miss Taylor as “Liz,” an appellation she never used herself, nor did she appreciate people addressing her thus. And in terms of the Burtons being heavy drinkers: Although her Richard, indeed, could consume a substantial amount of alcohol, in the two years that I spent a fair amount of time in his company, I never found him unable to recite verse, from Shakespeare to Dylan Thomas, other than clearly and flawlessly by the end of any long evening.

I am dying to know what appellation Elizabeth Taylor prefers for herself. The possibilities are endless: Eliza, Liza, Betty, Betsy....even Elizabeth.

And then there's more yada yada about the other souses the book discusses whom our author was personally acquainted with. About the book itself, she has little or nothing to say. It's all about Her.

Buying flowers

Recently I discovered that no matter how long I saved my money I would never be a millionaire.  So I  decided to squander it on flowers

Nine-day traffic jam

to be cleared up by September.  Mid-September. 

And I thought traffic in New Jersey was bad.

Berkshire Botanical Garden

Aug 20, 2010, taken with my iPhone

Loathsome immigrants

It's okay to hate them.

Back from the Berkshires

 

Had a wonderful visit to the Berkshires.  The highlight of the trip was a concert at Tanglewood.  We had the cheapest seats, but were conveniently located in front of a large video screen which was filming the orchestra.  It was so beautifully done that I could hardly pay attention to the music.  Dawn Upshaw (pictured above) was  the soloist.  She's expanded considerably since this picture was taken, but she has a lovely voice.  

Hairy site

The most important thing about Wikileaks.

From stylite, by way of Tim Blair.

I try to keep profanity off this blog...

but sometimes I fail. F***you, Harvard.

Guide to fonts

All you need to know.

Tip from the fourth checkraise. Go read it. It's good.

Wonderful tribute

from a British diva.

It's all about Headley Court, a facility for wounded British men and women:

Talking to some of our young men who have experienced tremendous injury was truly humbling. Their spirit is immense and their courage and success unbelievable in the face of what would seem to be impossible odds. Hearing a triple amputee of 28 talking about his plans for the future, the work they are all doing to rebuild themselves and get back into the Army or civilian life, leaves all of the rest of us behind in terms of courage and achievement.

There will always be an England, won't there?

Old guys at shul

My grandfather, who we called zayde, used to go to shul on Saturdays and hang out with other old guys.  At times I would go with him, and his old guy pals would pat me on the head, ask me how old I was and what grade I was in, and sometimes give me hard candy, which was always awful.  Once one of them offered me a pinch of snuff, so I could see what it was like.  It was unspeakable.  Why in the world do/did people use snuff?

The synagogue was at the top of a steep flight of stairs.  I don't know how anyone climbed them, let alone older people.  People were different in those days.  They were built differently.   The ability to climb stairs has apparently been bred out of the human race nowadays.  Of course those old people were a lot younger than I am nowadays, but they seemed ancient to me.

The shul was old guy headquarters.  They would sit and daven, then get up and greet their friends, sometimes go out and stand on the steps to chat and exchange greetings.  During services, many of them would daven, but others would talk or just generally wander around.  The place was their club, coffeehouse, and bar combined.  The women, few of whom came except on high holidays or other important occasions,  would sit upstairs.  I was only up there once or twice, preferring to hang out with the other kids, either downstairs or some other place where we had no business being.

The children, mostly boys, would dart out the doors chasing each other or would go in the back yard and throw spitballs at each other.  Sometimes they would pull my pigtails and run away.

Services were interminable.  Eons would pass as they droned on.  My eyes glazed over until I was roused from my stupor at the singing of Ayn Keloheynu, which marked the termination of the proceedings.

There was a social hall of sorts buried in the bowels of the place, and after services the congregation would gather for a snack: pickled herring, gefilte fish, cake or cookies.  The old men would have a shot of what they called broynfen (whiskey), straight, and a few nibbles.

The shul is long gone.  It was sold to a black church maybe 40 years ago, when all the Jews moved to nicer neighborhoods.   Bubbe and zayde's house, which was within walking distance, belongs to my brother and me.  We haven't been there in years.  One of mother's client/friends lives there and pays us a nominal sum.  The neighborhood is totally different nowadays.

Brilliant sofware engineers

I have a Technorati account but I can't access it. When I try to sign in, I get this e-mail.

There is more than Technorati.com user account sharing email address ******

To reset your password, please choose one of the usernames listed below and enter it in the Password Reset form at http://technorati.com/account/resetpassword/

We will be consolidating accounts in the future, so please consider using just one account, or using separate email addresses for each account you use.

So I go back to their site and click on reset/password,
  and,
I get another, identical e-mail.  I've gotten seven so far.

They don't make sense, even grammatically.  There should be a one between than and Technorati in the first line.

So...I can't access Technorati.

The hell with them.

How exactly did we become responsible for other people's hunger?

When and by what mechanism did we adopt a whole nation, so that if they are hungry it is our fault?

It seems, then, that those principally responsible for the situation in which 45 per cent of children are stunted because of malnutrition and 9 million people lack enough food are foreigners. 

It is the same mechanism that makes the Israelis responsible for providing electricity to the Gaza strip.  Funny how that works.

There is some good news, however.  Let's look at the bright side:

The Lancet quotes the head of World Health Organization, Dr. Margaret Chan, as saying that the health services of North Korea would be the envy of the developing world. According to the WHO, North Korea has made progress not only in the field of infant and maternal mortality, but in the reduction of deaths during surgery. Since The Lancet goes on to quote, by contrast, the testimony of a man who had his leg amputated without anesthetic for a broken ankle, while being held down by five medical assistants, it is rather alarming to think of what North Korean surgery must have been like before the improvement took place. Only four medical assistants to hold patients down, perhaps?

Art, artists, readers, writers, books

The first Friday of every month  in Wilmington the Art Loop takes place.  Vans are laid on by the city to take interested viewers from one studio or museum to another, so artists can get recognition and validation  for their work.  There are wine and snacks, and a festive air prevails.  I usually go, and it's a lot of fun.

The work varies greatly in quality.  Some of the works are for sale.  Some are purchased that very night, and for not inconsiderable sums.  Would I, could I, buy any of these paintings?  Not at those prices.  I couldn't because I'd rather spend the money on a new car, or buy more paints and a new easel.  You see, the art that interests me most is my own.  I like to see how others do things, but I am more interested in learning how to paint myself.

I think writers are like that, too.  I've known published poets who never read a line of any other poet's, none of whose works would be published if government and foundations did not subsidize their publication.  I'm okay with that.

Most people who enjoy literature have a hidden or not so hidden desire to write themselves.  Almost everyone has a novel  in a drawer somewhere or in the attic.  Not me.  I sincerely do not want to write anything, unless you count this blog.  What I want to do is read.  And what I want to read is books.

I've already mentioned that I don't want a Kindle.  I like books.  If it looks good to me, I will read any book with joy.  Unless it is moldy, which sets off my asthma.  Nice-looking books on good paper with beautiful bindings interest me, but so do paperbacks from the 1940s found in dusty book stores or at the Good Will. Library books.   I know I like certain authors, but I love discovering new ones.  I like reading about things I am ignorant about and learning new stuff, if well presented..

I don't really know what I want to read until I see it.  So I will continue to prowl through Barnes & Noble and look through piles of yesterday's best sellers at garage sales.  Some of my finds will be duds, of course, but I've discovered a lot of good reading and have hopes of finding more.

Rich People's Leftism...

vs.  Poor People's Leftism.

Thanks to the Fourth Checkraise--a very interesting blog in its own right--for the link.

Designer logos are over

They're so twentieth century.

The idea of wearing clothes with brand names or words on them is a creation of the last half-century, and a distinctly odd, unattractive one. You read words; you don’t wear them.

A horrible mistake

My dear aunt, who died recently, was buried in the wrong grave. She owned four plots. My uncle, her husband, was in one of them, and she was supposed to be buried next to him, or jointly with him, so to speak, under the same tombstone. Instead, she was buried in one of the two other plots.

The whole thing gives me the creeps. It's almost funny, but it was horrible for her immediate family. They had an argument with the synagogue, which owns the cemetery, and did not want to move her because it would cost money--a backhoe would be needed, etc.

None of our family belongs to this synagogue any more, because they have taken a turn toward excessive piety, building a wall between the men and the women, among other things. Everyone in the family had joined other synagogues or left town, but my aunt kept up her membership, although she never went there, because she wanted to be buried next to her husband.

It reminds me of the old joke: three Jews are marooned on a desert island. When rescuers happen to discover them, they have built four synagogues. Why four synagogues? Well, the first was the one Abe belonged to; the second was the one Ben belonged to, and the third was the one Chaim attended. But what about the fourth? Well, that was the one nobody belonged to.

So for thirty years my aunt paid dues to the synagogue nobody belonged to, just so she could be buried next to her husband. And they blew it!

After much heart-rending, shrieking, and agony, she was moved. Her daughter felt that this had to be done so she would be at peace. Maybe she is.

As for me, I think that if I were recently deceased I wouldn't be worried about my burial place. Either I would have moved on to other things, or I would be angry and indignant at being forced to leave this world, where there is so much to love and enjoy.

Fall scene

 

How many black farmers can fit on the head of a pin?

86,000?

Credit checks for potential employees?

Why?

It used to be the best source [of information about potential hires] was to check job references. Nowadays, though, very few employers will give a honest job reference, or will provide any information at all. I know I am guilty of that — my company does not allow any manager to give out performance data on past employees. I only needed to be sued once over somehow interfering with someone’s living by giving honest information about that employee’s reliability to change my behavior.

I once called another library to ask about a potential hire. The director said, "We have a legal agreement not to say anything about Mr ___'s job here." No more needed to be said.

On the other hand, I have gotten glowing references from previous employers for employees who turned out to be awful. More than once. Thank God that you can fire an employee for any reason before he or she becomes a permanent civil servant.

roses in blue vase

 

I'm not quite finished with this one.

Warnings for bumper stickers

Just drove by a car with a bumper sticker that warned: "Novice Driver."

This is good as far as it goes, but I suggest the program be expanded. Some ideas for informative bumper stickers:

Incompetent driver
Drives while buzzed
Texts while driving (or Drives while texting)
Road Rage Addict
Flunked IQ test
Marginal motor skills
Road hog
Criminally insane
Serious anger issues
License suspended
Out of my way!

Swiss do the right thing

Ban minarets.

Good for you, Switzerland. By the way, love your cheese.

The broadview burglars

Has anybody noticed that they are all white guys?

Apparently it has been noticed. But what got my attention is the utter stupidity of the intruders. Why break down the front door--why not try an upstairs window instead? Lazy young people!

I also remarked that in the time it takes the stricken young lady to get to the phone, the burglar could have shot, knifed, or strangled her. I'd like to see her telephone etiquette then. Again, dumb, dumb, dumb!

No wonder they say crime doesn't pay.

Protecting College Students from Evil Capitalists

Congress is working on this.

So Congress is worried about students paying several thousand dollars and investing 18 months of their lives for a degree that may not repay their student debts. No word yet on whether they are looking into students who spend four years and $160,000 for Ivy League gender studies degrees, which we all know have simply enormous income-generation potential.

Lily white liberal columnists

They need a bit of diversity, doncha know?

They look like a bunch of callow youths to me.

Except Paul Krugman, Nobel prize winner and owner of cats called Doris Lessing and Albert Einstein. He's just plain weird.

My wine rack

I bought this at an estate sale for $7.50--just the rack, not the wine.

A Twenty-first Century Sherlock Holmes?

No fog?

Fashions are stupid

What could be more comfy than wearing long johns (now called leggings) under a Summer dress in 92 degree heat? Well, at least your butt won't stick to the leather car seat.

Maybe the new with-it look of wearing an undershirt (top and bottom exposed) under a tight shirt with tight blue jeans.

Or these:

Reality changes

Asbestos is eliminated by magic. Wow!

With Jews like this...

who needs anti-Semites?

An elegant name

One among many plaques at Christiana Hospital. I just loved her name.

Flowering tree July 2010

I don't know what this tree is called, but it is unusual in that it blooms in mid-Summer, unlike all the other flowering trees tht bloom in the Spring. I took the picture with my iPhone from my car window. That's why it's not so great. I was hoping someone would tell me what it was. Tat--you know about such things!

Shakespeare's first theater

Before the Globe.

Thanks to Brits at their best.

How American Jews speak

More precisely, what Yiddish words do they use, and what Hebrew words, in common conversation.

I find this topic fascinating.

I am taking Hebrew classes, and in my class are several people who are in the process of converting. 
They want to be Jewish.

What makes a person Jewish?  I myself am 100 percent Jewish, but almost completely Jewishly illiterate.  These conversion students know more about the Jewish religion than I do, and I come from an observant family.  So how come I am a Jew, and these converts have to go to a mikvah (ritual bath) and immerse themselves to become what I was, with no effort,  just by virtue of being born?

Somehow we never talked about most religious topics, including the Almighty.  We had our own religion, which I am sure most people do.  We ate kosher food.  But my cousin and I were packed off to the movies every Saturday afternoon, although this is forbidden.  I have a feeling the adults wanted to get rid of us for a while so they could have some peace.  So they were religious when convenient.

When I was coming up, most observant men did not cover their heads except in the synagogue.  Now the overwhelming majority of them do.  The synagogue I attend is observant--women are not allowed to read the Torah--but there is mixed seating, so it is not accepted as Orthodox.  Some synagogues have doubled down on separate seating by building a wall between the men and the women.  My brother and his wife, very observant Jews, left the synagogue where they were married when a wall was built separating the sexes.  That was a bridge too far for them.

Senator Joe Lieberman is an observant Jew, but does not wear a kippah.  I notice also that he walks to the Senate if he has to attend a session.  I'm pretty sure that Senate attendance is considered work and that the rabbis of old would frown upon his presence, especially if money is being discussed.  Money is not be be discussed on the Sabbath and one is expected to rest, not work.

Sages have devoted volumes to what can and cannot be done on the Sabbath.  Card playing, nix.  Chess okay.  Writing, turning on electric lights, preparing meals--all are forbidden.   Being observant can take up a lot of your time, which I am sure is one reason the Jewish religion has survived.  People adhere more closely to a religion that asks a lot of them. 

One for our side

I hope Lynne Stewart rots in hell.  Traitor!

Sympathy for Al Gore

Yes, you heard me right.  I'm downright sorry for the man.  He buys a house for 8 million and change and can't even light a fire in his fireplaces!  What is this country coming to!  What's the use of being rich?

I don't know when the house was built but for a long time now you need a special permit for wood burning fireplaces and most of the houses built for the last 20 years are gas operated with faux wood for show.  I'm not saying that is what they have, but wouldn't be surprised if that were the case.

Another commenter chimes in:

Not only the difference in fireplaces built recently, but there are also restrictions on fireplace usage in CA.

My parents have a woodburning fireplace, and due to air quality restrictions, they aren't allowed to use it whenever they want.

My Grandfather was not covered by the restrictions, but that was because his fireplace was the main heating source for his ancient house.

Now picture this:  Gore is sitting in front of his cozy fireplace, toasting his toes, perhaps contemplating a restful massage, and the Fireplace Police drop in and give him a ticket,  ruining his pleasant evening.  Maybe they even haul him off to jail, poor soul, simply for using his own property in a way that he sees fit.

Our family used to drive down to Florida, sometimes using country roads.  A common sight was a large lot with a couple of derelict cars parked in front of a house that hadn't seen a coat of paint in a good long while.  Of course this was unsightly.  But I'd prefer having the neighbors park their cars in their front yards than have someone tell me what materials I can use to build  my house and what color it must be painted--as happens in California!  Really and truly!  It happened to someone I know.

Of course, around here they have laws against parking trucks in the street, but at least they are not watching the chimney or the electric meter to see if I am improperly heating or cooling my house.

Maybe that's next?

Al Gore's new humble little shack

A friend who lives in California sent me this comment on Al Gore's new house:

I don't know when the house was built but for a long time now you need a special permit for wood burning fireplaces and most of the houses built for the last 20 years are gas operated with faux wood for show.  I'm not saying that is what they have, but wouldn't be surprised if that were the case.

Kenneth Gladney

I can't find the exact link, but maybe someone can e-mail it to me.

O'Reilly had some pompous windbag on his show yesterday, discussing the NAACP generally and the Kenneth Gladney beating specifically.

The pompous windbag, who I will call Windbag for short, said Gladney was selling hate literature, specifically buttons with Obama's picture in whiteface, and the word "Dope" rather than "Hope,"  implying that Gladney deserved the beating given him by SEIU thugs, a beating which sent him to the hospital.

O'Reilly more or less agreed that the buttons Gladney was selling were improper.

It leads me to despair to hear O'Reilly agree with Mr Windbag that Gladney should not be exercising his First Amendment right to free speech.  Where are the first principles our republic is based on?  Have we forgotten free speech so quickly?

Founding Fathers to O'Reilly:  Free speech is protected by the First Amendment.  You blew it,. 

A link to the interview.

Brandywine Zoo

The offices of the Brandywine Zoo have been decorated with fabulous murals, showing all kinds of animal habitats.  I tried to find more information about the artist from the Zoo's website, but could not find the information.  Anyway, he did a great job.  The kids who attend camp and educational programs there will love it.

More about the running of the bulls

If anyone cares:

I've lived in Spain for over 20 years and have never been to Los San Fermines. Having spent the first 30+ years of my life in New York City, surviving ****ing  Saint Patrick's Day drunks, I've never felt the need to add livestock to the mix. Have fun, y'all.  

My sentiments exactly.  Only one St Patrick's Day did it for me.

.

It's Mahler's 150th birthday

A wonderful appreciation of the composer.

Read the whole thing, including the comments.  So many people love Mahler's music.

Running of the bull***

My wish when I see news of this sort is I hope the bulls win.  I'm sorry to be so unPC, but the bulls did not ask for this fight.  How can Spain, which claims to be so multiculti and loves every liberal cause that comes up, justify this brutal sport?

You know that in a bullfight, the bull will not win.  No way.

I first was made aware of this delightful sport when I read Hemingway's The Sun Also Rises when I was 16.  Their visit to Spain to attend the bullfights sounded fab, except for the bullfight.  The life of young expats in Paris sounded like fun, too.  How I would have liked living as an expatriate in Paris, meeting all the happening people, hanging out in bars, soaking up the sunshine in Spain.  The fleeting thought crossed my mind that these folks must have received monthly checks from home, but I banished the thought quickly, my 16-year-old self enchanted by the glamor of the whole thing.  As a sour old lady, however, I am immune to Hemingway's charms.

I am with the bulls, all the way.

People don't mind paying more for education?

A survey has shown that Americans do not want to pay more for public employees, but make an exception for education.

Why?  because they don't know the education swindle as I do.  I've seen it up close and personal.  Large amounts of education money go for administration.  Forget the teachers' salaries, how hard-working they are, bringing work home, and other pieties.  Teachers at least have quanitfiable duties.  A teacher will teach a class of 20 fourth-graders, or teach art to 75 students.  There are many, many people working in the public school system who either do nothing or do something that could be dispensed with:  assistant principals, board secretaries, assistants to assistant principals, secretaries to board secretaries; lather, rinse, repeat.  No business could survive with such a collection of slackers and people whose main duties are to take something out of an inbox and put it in an outbox.  Their lack of productivity is astounding.

Money oozes from every orifice of the public education system.  It doesn't help that the states impose unfunded mandates that cost school districts money, without reimbursing them.  The superintendent of a school system which shall be nameless told me that he was compelled to transport a retarded child several miles and pay an arm and a leg to have a minimum wage flunkey, under the auspices of a State facility for the retarded, baby-sit him.

And so it goes.   Anyone who wants to can pick up the rock which conceals public school spending and see what is underneath.  It's not a pretty picture.

Trifecta

The perfect storm of climate tsuris


An SUV (1)  crashes into an eco-friendly  bus 2) which crashes into a greenhouse (3).

It doesn't get much better than that. 

Longwood Gardens photos taken July 1, 2010

To see more Longwood pictures, visit my other blog at miriamswilmingtondephotos.

Maybe they could qualify for one of those "payday" loans

or maybe not.

These people we elect--do they know what they are doing?  I used to think they did.  Yes, they were crooks, but they were competent crooks.

Wrong.

From Instapundit.

Mother and dad, out of the frame

This is enhanced to the severe limits of my photo-editing skills.

From the shelves of the Good Will store

vaguely (but not quite) obscene object of no utility

Other stuff anyone could easily live without

Candleholder and son, possiblly another candleholder

Another view of weird candleholder

Your money or your life?

I wrote this some time ago:

I used to drive a small car. I laughed when I passed a gas station (well, it was more like a quiet chuckle). Then my small car, going about 5 mph, was hit by a mid-size Lexus. Score: Lexus 1, Miriam 0.

They practically had to vacuum my car off the road, it was in so many pieces.

I escaped without a scratch, miraculously.

But I'm not driving a really small car, unless it is up-armored.


An intelligent comment:

Nobody in the USA will "clamor" about fuel efficient cars. People can always buy what they want ... at least, up to now.

They will simply decide on the compromise they are willing to make between the well documented lethality of tiny cars and the cost of gas.

The cost of gas vs. the value of your life.  

 Choose one.

The guy has a point.

Another good reason to hate Mel Gibson

As if I needed one.

He's just another one of those Christians who love their fellow man.

Christopher Hitchens has cancer

It's a shame.  I hope he's one of the lucky five percent who survive.  May he have the best of care, he deserves it.

I just finished Hitch's book, which I enjoyed very much.  He seems like a generous-hearted man and a good friend, a guy you wouldn't mind going out drinking with.  His aversions are as strong as his likes, and as vehemently held.   Most people espouse a party line and don't think for themselves if they can help it.  So it's kind of refreshing to find someone who has it in for Mother Theresa.

Hitch has had an enviable life, so far, and I hope will continue to do so.  He  appears to know everyone I've ever heard of, or at least everyone whose books I have ever read, including--and this impressed me--Redmond O'Hanlon.  I thought i had discovered Redmond O'Hanlon all by myself, there in the travel sectiion of the library, and here Hitchens knew him right along.

Some religious persons have suggested that this cancer is God's punishment for Hitchens' vigorous atheism.  Whatever religion these people profess, I want none of it.  I am dubious about belief, and dubious about prayer, but I still will send a few thoughts of Christopher Hitchens, who has given me so much pleasure, winging heavenwards.  God can then do exactly as He likes, if he exists.  And if he doesn't, no harm done.

Supreme Court nominee hearing

Senate snoozes.

Kagan is going to be confirmed.  It's all about the numbers.  Kagan is a nonentity, unlike Justice Scalia, who is really brilliant.  She is one of the better Obama candidates, in that she never made bombs in the basement or gave speeches praising Mao's little red book. Yet.

We have 300,000 million people in this country, and lots of them are boring Harvard graduates.  They learned the Harvard game--the admissions game, I mean--in middle school, and were careful to do what it took to get into Harvard:  raise money for cerebral palsy, run half-marathons, volunteer for the school paper, play the cello, and visit old ladies in nursing homes twice a week, while getting good grades and kissing up to the teachers.

I can't imagine she has ever held an opinion that would differ in any respect from that of the faculty and administration at Harvard, Mayor Bloomberg, Mario Cuomo, Mayor Daley (the son, not the father) or Obama himself.

His nominees, except for the lunatic fringe ones who want to give carrots and rutabagas the vote or emulate Cuban health care, are ticket punchers.  They look different, but at heart they resemble Chiclets.  So she's fifty.  Another thirty or forty years on the Supreme Court bench and she'll retire and leave an opening for another just like herself.