Shiny Lincolns

Yesterday I noticed an oddity in my loose change, a shiny Wheat Cent. Nothing particularly valuable, since it’s a 1957 coin, but still unusual. I scrounged around until I found a shiny Lincoln Memorial Cent, which isn’t that easy to find either, and a Union Shield Cent, which are practically all shiny. I put them together and preserved their shininess for posterity, if any. A fitting thing to do to mark Lincoln’s 205th birthday.

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERAVictor D. Brenner designed the Wheat Cent, obverse and reverse. The obverse, at least, has proved remarkably durable, from 1909 to the present, and will probably last until the sad day the U.S. retires the penny, as Canada has. It’s also gone where no coin has gone before – I think – namely Mars.

Frank Gasparro did the Lincoln Memorial Cent. Nice enough, with intricate detail, I suppose, but I never thought it compared to the Wheat Cent.

Lyndall Bass did the Union Shield Cent, a fine design. Doubt that it will make it to 2059, but at least it’s a good way to end the denomination.

Storm of the Century

I found Burmese Days at a bookstore not long ago. Once I finish rereading Homage to Catalona, which I’m close to doing, I’ll read that for the first time. It’s a wonder that George Orwell escaped Spain with his life in 1937. How close the world came to never having Nineteen Eighty-Four, Animal Farm and the rest.

What have we missed because antibiotics weren’t quite good enough yet to save Orwell in 1950? The man might have written for another 30 or more years. To modify a line of Tom Lehrer’s, it’s a sobering thought to realize that when Orwell was my age, he’d been dead six years.

Actually, I’m taking a detour from Orwell to read a book I chanced on at the library the other day and couldn’t resist, Storm of the Century: The Labor Day Hurricane of 1935, by Willie Drye (2002). I’m pretty sure I first heard about that storm watching Key Largo. Lionel Barrymore’s character mentioned it, at a time when the hurricane would have been still fairly fresh in memory, as Katrina is for us.

“On Labor Day in 1935, a hurricane that produced the record low barometric pressure reading of 26.35 inches hit Florida’s upper Keys, destroying virtually everything in its path,” the Publishers Weekly blurb cited by Amazon says. “In his meticulously researched work, Drye gives a vivid, detailed account of the storm’s approach and impact when it made landfall. Drye was drawn to the story of the unnamed hurricane not only because of its intensity, but also because it killed nearly 260 World War I veterans who were building a highway as part of a federal construction program.”

So far it’s pretty good. The book even has occasional funny asides, something you wouldn’t expect. For instance, Key West as a modern tourist destination was largely invented during the 1930s, to help it recover from the Depression but also the contraction of the area’s ship salvaging and natural sponge businesses earlier in the century. The Florida Emergency Relief Administration led the effort to clean up the town and its attractions, hiring a PR man named E.M. Gilfond to handle publicity.

“Gilford and his staff, which included talented graphic artists, launched a nationwide advertising campaign to lure tourists to Key West,” writes Drye. “When the visitors arrived they were given a booklet published by the Florida ERA that included a map of the city’s attractions.

“The effort was a rousing success. About 40,000 tourists visited Key West during the 1934-35 season, and the city’s income from tourism increased by about 43 percent…

“No one had bothered to confer with Ernest Hemingway before putting his house on the maps handed out to visitors. The author’s home was listed as attraction number 18, and a fair number of those 40,000 tourists tramped onto his property and peered into the windows of his home or gawked at him from the sidewalk as he tried to relax on his porch with a drink and a cigar. One especially bold visitor opened the front door of Hemingway’s home and marched into his living room as though he were walking into a museum.”

Good Eats

Over the weekend, some of Lilly’s friends came over for a while, and she made dinner for them and her family as well.

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERAAmong other things, a savory concoction of Italian sausage – both spicy and mild – along with onions, bell peppers, and I forget what else.

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERAToo bad this blog doesn’t have a smell feature. I guarantee you’d want some of this right now.

Despite Everything, Spectacle

It’s a little unusual these days when we sit down to watch the same thing at the same time on TV, but it happened on Friday, when we saw a fair amount of NBC’s chopped up, dumbed down coverage of the opening ceremony of the Olympics. Despite the coverage, there was no denying the spectacle of the thing. Tsar Vladimir wanted spectacle, so there was spectacle, and hang the cost.

Spectacle is nothing new for Russia. It’s the country that gave us the Potemkin village, after all. (Spectacle, pseudo-spectacle, what’s the difference, as long as the tsar is pleased?) And who can forget those May Day parades with their ICBMs on wheels? That pleased the red tsars.

Note some of these pictures from the Sporting News, especially the shots of unfinished or poorly built Sochi toilets. Funny to see in photos, not so funny to find in your hotel room. Just carping by Westerners, no doubt. We have spectacle to put on, don’t bother Russia about plumbing details! It reminds me of the Hermitage. A spectacular building indeed, with a spectacular art collection. But – at least when I was there in 1994 – dank, crummy, hard-to-find bathrooms.

Why did NBC leave this out? It was part of the pre-ceremony festivities, but easy to include, since everything was on tape anyway. Maybe it was considered too surreal for mainstream tastes.

I enjoyed the Parade of Nations, especially the athletes walking over maps of their nations, projected somehow or other onto the floor of the stadium. Now that’s a great special effect. Glad to see minuscule Euro-nations in the Games, too — Andorra, Liechtenstein, even tiny San Marino (but it turns out that country’s been in the Winter Games since 1976). No one from the Vatican City, but I guess it would be hard to scare up an Olympic-class athlete from its 800-odd residents.

Also glad to see Togo in the parade. Go Togo! I cheer the sporting aspirations of Togo. One athlete, Alessia Afi Dipol, will be competing in two events for the country, women’s giant slalom and women’s slalom, while another athlete, Mathilde-Amivi Petitjean, will compete in the women’s 10 km classic cross-country skiing event.

Since Friday, I haven’t watched any of the coverage. For one thing, I’m not that excited about winter sports, but I also know how NBC will cover the Games: first, figure skating. Then some more figure skating. After that, a little speed skating, and hockey (if Team USA is in the medal rounds), and then some highlights from figure skating, even though that event is over, plus interviews with Team USA figure skaters, complete with more highlights of the event. With occasional coverage of death-defying sports, such as luge and skeleton, but not without constant yackety-yak commentary.

Blizzard of the Past

We haven’t had a genuine blizzard this year, just layer after layer after layer of snow accumulation so that the end result, as of today, which was sunny and cold, looks a little post-blizzard. But not quite. The snow’s spread too evenly, unlike the weird drifts you see after strong winds.

In early 2011, we had a real blizzard, which of course I mentioned in passing. But I took more pictures than I posted three years ago. The miniature Matterhorn pile in front of our back door, nearly as tall as I am, was especially annoying. On the other hand, I liked the curls of snow on the roof.

Blizzard11.3The ornamental wooden bridge near the deck became completely impassable. As it is now. Contrast with this. Not that anyone except the dog ever crosses over it.

Blizzard11.2Deep snow can be fun, if you don’t have to shovel it. Three years ago, Lilly didn’t help me dig out. This year, she has been, especially if she wants to borrow the car.

Blizzard11.1Hard to believe it all melted in about a month. Hard to believe the snow we have now will likewise go away. At this point, you forget there’s a ground under there.

Thursday Orts

No falling snow today, just real cold air. Of course I had to be out in it for a while, including a period spent figuring out why the garage door wasn’t closing. Once I figured it out, it was all too obvious. A chunk of snow had attached itself to the bottom of the door, and when it passed in front of the electric eye, it stopped the door.

Until I thought to visit the Coca-Cola web site itself, I couldn’t find a list of all the seven languages used in the “America the Beautiful” commercial aired during the Super Bowl. The descriptions I saw simply mentioned that most of the languages weren’t English, which seems to have fueled a short-lived tempest in a teapot. I didn’t see the commercial live, or any of the commercials during the game, or the game either.

I caught it on YouTube the next day (the commercial, not the game). A pretty piece of work, even considering that at its heart, its goal is to sell sugar water (or more likely around here, corn syrup water). Where’s that street at 0:35? Looks like a Chinatown, but I can’t tell where. I want to go there and get some noodles.

The languages are English and Spanish, naturally, but the others were impossible for me to pin down just listening: Tagalog, Hebrew, Hindi, Keres (spoken by the Keres Pueblo people), and Senegalese-French. Interesting selection. It didn’t take long before some jokesters created a parody that included the likes of Klingon and Dothraki – which I’d never heard of before, since I’ve missed Game of Thrones entirely.

Another thing I didn’t know, but just found out: as a child, Charles Nelson Reilly attended the circus in Hartford, Conn., on July 6, 1944, the day the big top caught fire and killed over 160 people. As an old man doing his one-man show, Reilly described his escape. Separately, another fellow described his escape.

Yooper Snow

More snow again last night. What is this, the Upper Peninsula? Which brings to mind a song by Da Yoopers.

My car didn’t actually get stuck today, but I can appreciate the line, “I shovel and I shovel and I shovel that snow.”

Da Yoopers bill themselves as “the #1 hunting, fishing, beer drinking comedy show in America.” They also operate a spot call Da Tourist Trap in Ishpeming, Michigan, up in the UP. If ever I’m there, and it’s a distinct possibility, I’ll buy some postcards or something just to support regional comedy.

Something I didn’t know till I looked it up today: Anatomy of a Murder was filmed in Ishpeming and surrounding area in 1959.

I Didn’t Shoot No Deputy, I Was Too Mellow

Lilly found a bottle of Marley’s Mellow Mood Black Tea “decaffeinated relaxation drink” the other day at one of the grocery stores we visit sometimes. Marley as in Bob Marley. And what’s the secret relaxation ingredient? Something still banned in 48 states?

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERAOf course not. Besides tea, the ingredients include “pure cane sugar, critic acid, natural flavor, sodium citrate, chamomile extract, lemon balm extract, valerian root extract, hops extract, and passionflower extract.”

I had to look up valerian root. This from the University of Maryland Medical Center: “Valerian has been used to ease insomnia, anxiety, and nervous restlessness since the second century A.D. It became popular in Europe in the 17th century. It has also been suggested to treat stomach cramps. Some research — though not all — does suggest that valerian may help some people with insomnia. Germany’s Commission E approved valerian as an effective mild sedative and the United States Food and Drug Administration listed valerian as ‘Generally Recognized As Safe.’

“Scientists aren’t sure how valerian works, but they believe it increases the amount of a chemical called gamma aminobutyric acid (GABA) in the brain. GABA helps regulate nerve cells and has a calming effect on anxiety. Drugs such as alprazolam (Xanax) and diazepam (Valium) also work by increasing the amount of GABA in the brain. Researchers think valerian may have a similar, but weaker effect.”

Later in the article, the UMMC says that “Valerian root has a sharp odor. It is often combined with other calming herbs, including passionflower (Passiflora incarnata), hops (Humulus lupulus), lemon balm (Melissa officinalis), skullcap (Scutellaria lateriflora), and kava (Piper methysticum) to mask the scent. Kava, however, has been associated with liver damage, so avoid it.”

Except for skullcap and kava, that’s practically the same list of ingredients as Marley’s Mellow Mood. Lilly drank most of it, but didn’t seem noticeably calmer, though she’s usually pretty calm. She springs from phlegmatic people, and comes to the feeling naturally, I think.

I had a little of the tea myself. Not bad. I didn’t feel particularly mellow afterward, either. No more than usual, anyway.

The bottle also tells me, “Manufactured in the USA for Marley Beverage Company LLC, Southfield, MI.” Suburban Detroit isn’t particularly associated with Marley (or Rasta) that I know of, but I don’t really know that much about him. Pretty much by chance, however, I did see Bob Marley in concert. Until today I couldn’t remember exactly when I saw him at Vanderbilt, just that it was freshman year at the not-too-acoustically-good Memorial Gymnasium, where nevertheless the big or biggish acts played (it was the biggest hall on campus).

Remarkably, I’m able to look it up. The concert was on December 10, 1979. I don’t remember it like it was yesterday. I remember it like it was well over 30 years ago. I would have recognized “I Shot the Sheriff,” “No Woman, No Cry,” and “Get Up, Stand Up” on the playlist, but not much else. I wasn’t much of a fan. A girl I knew had persuaded me to go.

I also remember that the auditorium was smoky – smoking of one kind was allowed during concerts in those days, and smoking of another kind was tolerated – and that between songs Marley would cry out, “All hail Jah!”  “Almighty Jah!” and the like, as well as “Free Zimbabwe!”

At that moment in history, post-Rhodesia Zimbabwe was transitioning toward independence, which would be formally achieved in April 1980. Marley was there to play for the independence celebrations, and the description’s worth reading: “During ‘I Shot The Sheriff’ riots have led [sic] to pause the concert. Marley later reappeared on stage to perform three more songs before the concert was definitely cancelled. A free concert was performed one day later…”

The VU audience was a bit more sedate than that, even without the benefit of valerian root. Sadly, at the time Marley was about at the end of his life, though we didn’t know it. Less than a year after playing at Vanderbilt, he was too sick to go on tour, and in 1981 he died of cancer.

Ann at 11

“Did I make this much noise when I turned 11?” Lilly asked on Friday evening, soon after Ann’s 11th birthday get-together and sleepover got under way.

“Yes, you did,” I answered. That was the year she and her friends talked about calling the spectre of Bloody Mary, but didn’t get around to trying.

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERAEleven times around the Sun for Ann. Still a child, but edging away from it. There were no efforts to call out Bloody Mary at Ann’s event. I wasn’t expected any. But there was a lot of electronic game-play and standard-issue giggling. Pizza and cake were served.

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERAOn Saturday evening, we watched Moneyball on DVD. Or at least Ann and I did; Yuriko was too tired for it, and Lilly was out with friends. I’d heard it was good, and it was. I didn’t know the history of the 2002 Oakland As, so the arc of the story – if not the substance of it – was new to me. I’m glad it wasn’t an underdog-goes-all-the-way story. Instead, it was an underdog-has-a-better-season-than-expected story. Using math.

I didn’t realize that Philip Seymour Hoffman was even in that movie until I read one of his obits this morning. He played the obstreperous manager Art Howe. While watching that character I thought, he looks familiar. But I couldn’t place him. I guess that’s the mark of a fine character actor. He can disappear into his character.

Midwinter Stasis

Here’s a picture of my back yard from early January.

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERAAnd here’s one from early February.

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERAIt’s been a snowy winter so far. Maybe a record, or near a record, but I’d have to look that up, and don’t feel like it.

When I heard last week that Pete Seeger died, it was a sad moment, but only a moment, since I didn’t actually know the man. I only know him from his recorded voice, films, two live appearances in Tennessee in the mid-80s, and what little I remember from reading, many years ago, the 1981 biography How Can I Keep from Singing: The Ballad of Pete Seeger, by David K. Dunaway. I’ve long had an unusual interest in Pete Seeger for someone my age.

Ninety-four is a good run. More than most of us get.