Thursday Adds

RIP, Laura Ford, mother of two friends of mine in high school, Catherine and Melanie. I remember her fondly from the times we hung out at Catherine’s house in the late ’70s. She’s pictured here in May 1979.

More recently, she would comment occasionally on something I’d posted on Facebook — she really liked pictures of our dog — though I can’t remember the last time we met in person.

I didn’t know her exact age until I read the obituary, and was slightly startled to realize that when I met her, she wasn’t even 40 yet. Of course, from the vantage of high school, that seemed vastly old. Now, not so much.

One more pic from Normal, Illinois, last weekend.
Normal, Illinois

As we drove toward Normal, Yuriko asked what kind of bird the ISU mascot was supposed to be — a cardinal? I told her I didn’t think it was supposed to be any particular species, though it does look something like an angry cardinal.

Later Ann said she thought “redbird” was picked since too many other places used cardinals. The dictionary definition of redbird (Merriam-Webster) is straightforward enough: “Any of several birds (such as a cardinal or scarlet tanager) with predominantly red plumage.”

I had to look further into scarlet tanagers. Only some of them are actually scarlet, it seems. Not sure that would be such a hot mascot name anyway. If you want an unusual bird mascot name, I’d go with the Andean cock-of-the-rock. Funny name, funny-looking bird.

I noticed that Dick Cavett had a small part in Beetlejuice. I don’t think I’d ever seen him in a movie in which he didn’t play himself, such as in Annie Hall or Apollo 13, which was a TV clip of him joking about sending a bachelor astronaut to the Moon.

In Beetlejuice, he played Delia’s agent, attending a dinner party she held. Delia was the story’s cartoonish antagonist, and among other things an artist who produces bad sculpture. Leaving the party, Cavett’s character got in a good parting shot:

“Delia, you are a flake. You have always been a flake. If you insist on frightening people, do it with your sculpture.”

Dear Algorithms and Bots

One bit of meme wisdom has it that if you aren’t paying to use a social media site, you’re the product. In Internet terms, that old saw is old indeed: here’s an article skeptical of the assertion from 2012.

Still, I have to wonder, what is Facebook learning from my spotty pattern of usage? What insights are their faceless algorithms and shadowy bots salting away for sale to — whom? Does it even work that way?

I’ll sum it up here, to save those mysterious actors any more trouble. Sometimes I go days or even weeks without checking my page, sometimes I check a couple of times a day for a few days. Sometimes I realize that only about 10% of my Friends’ posts appear on the rolling feed that I see, and I seek others out, but usually I’m too lazy. Or is that 20%? I’ve never done a study, because it would be a waste of my time, and I can waste time much more entertainingly than that.

I post now and then, a few comments here and there on other people’s posts, and pictures from somewhere I’ve been recently on my own feed. That’s it, mostly.

So you might say that my engagement with social media is somewhere between things I have no interest in (celebrity news, golf, K-pop) and things I have a strong interest in (too many to list, though I’ve written about a lot of them over the years). Guess that isn’t very helpful to digital marketers who have my Internet address.

Occasionally I click a “like.” Generally, I like it when people go places and post about it. Good pictures help. Even better, pictures with at least a little explanation. You know, captions. A mild pet peeve is posted pictures with no explanation. Wow! This is neat! Followed by a random series of ocean or forest or city pictures that could be any damn where.

So, algorithms and bots, I like to go places. You’d think they’d know that already, but that’s anthropomorphizing them. Besides, my Google search patterns probably muddy the picture a bit. Or a lot. As a reporter, I go to a lot of diverse web sites. That, and the tangents I sometimes (often) follow, which can be unpredictable, even to me.

The only clear marketing patterns occur when I click on online ads. For example, take a look at a site that sells coins or lingerie (ahem, the latter just for research purposes) and their ads will follow you for days. Otherwise I get a sometimes hilarious assortment of misplaced ads, something like mass marketing on TV.

Fortune Cookie Wisdom

I ate a fortune cookie not long ago, as I do when offered them by restaurants and takeout places that offer them. Also, I read the fortune, as a form of very low-grade entertainment.

Something I knew about fortune cookies: their origin seems to trace from Japan, Kyoto in fact, a place that’s long been inventive when it comes to confections. I’ve sampled some of the traditional products in the small, wonderfully colorful shops of that city.

“The idea that fortune cookies come from Japan is counterintuitive, to say the least,” wrote Jennifer 8. Lee in the New York Times some years ago, an article I remember seeing before. Maybe so, but ideas and inventions travel and morph, in this case to California for an association with Chinese food by the 20th century.

“The Japanese may have invented the fortune cookie,” she quotes Derrick Wong, the vice president of the largest fortune cookie manufacturer in the world, Wonton Food, based in Brooklyn. “But the Chinese people really explored the potential of the fortune cookie. It’s Chinese-American culture. It only happens here, not in China.”

Which brings me to the wisdom in my most recent fortune cookie, from a bakery in Chicago. Seven words, entirely sic:

Being an able man. There are always.

Glad to see that fortune-cookie writing, in this case, has been outsourced to someone whose native language isn’t English. Entirely possible in polyglot Chicago. I can’t say what language they do speak, but I’m certain of that.

Waning Summer Tidbits

As if on cue, we had a cooler afternoon and evening to start September. Not much cooler, but noticeable. Warmth will be back soon, but the air is slowly leaking out of that balloon as the days grow shorter. Back to posting around September 7.

There’s a nice bloom of goldenrod out by the back fence.

I realize that it isn’t causing our intermittent runny noses, which have been worse this year than last, but not as bad as the worst ever. That would be 1987, the first late summer/early fall I spent in northern Illinois, maybe without much experience with the pollen in question. Ragweed causes that unpleasantness, I understand.

“About Hay Fever,” says American Meadows. “In short, it’s an old wives’ tale. Goldenrod does not cause hay fever. It simply got that bum rap since it blooms at the same time as the real culprit — ragweed.”

Today I started reading When In Rome by Robert J. Hutchinson (1998), subtitled “A Journal of Life in Vatican City,” which is part travel book, part memoir, part popular history, and all very readable and amusing.

Something I found out today: Lyle Waggoner (d. 2020) founded a successful company that provides trailers to movie and TV studios, Star Waggons. After The Carol Burnett Show and Wonder Woman, that’s what he turned his attention to. One of his sons runs it even now, though it has been acquired by a REIT.

One more thing I found out today, early this morning: even at my age, dreams about missing class, or being unprepared for a test, do not disappear completely. Also, the sense of relief is still there when you wake up — ah, I haven’t had to go to a class in nearly 40 years, much less be prepared for one.

Globes on the Move

My globes migrated upstairs the other day. Five in all, acquired over the years.

Even the newest of them isn’t so new anymore, ca. 2000, missing features such as South Sudan and East Timor. The oldest globe dates from the late 1950s, including as it does a divided Germany, independent Ghana, but also French West Africa.

Another is ca. 1970, featuring most of the newly independent states of Africa, but also the Afars and the Issas and, elsewhere, East Pakistan. Yet another is from that brief window after the reunification of Germany but before the dissolution of the Soviet Union.

The Moon globe is special, acquired for me during the Apollo era. Many of the craters and other features are unnamed, but some craters have names informally given to them by Apollo astronauts, such as two honoring Charles Bassett and Elliot See. The International Astronomical Union Working Group for Planetary System Nomenclature did not, alas, retain those two, at least according to the Gazetteer of Planetary Nomenclature.

Trotsky Postcard (Maybe)

Come on, fraudsters. You’ve got to try harder. These things need to be in perfect English.

Then again, maybe not. I have impossibly high standards when it comes to phishing.

Below is a more recent postcard, though maybe not actually a postcard, but a postcard-sized image of exiled Trotsky. There’s nothing printed on the other side. Maybe the revolutionary considered postcards to be bourgeois frivolity.

I don’t actually know that, just a hunch. Could be I need to read The Permanent Revolution and Results and Prospects more closely to ascertain his take on postal items. Somehow, I don’t think that would be worth the effort.

In any case, I picked it up at the gift shop of the Museo Casa de Leon Trotsky in Mexico City in late 2017, which I wrote soon after was “heavy on socialist books and portraits of Trotsky for sale and light on tourist gimcracks.”

Abrahamsen Park

It’s nice, and a little astonishing, to discover a park you didn’t know in your part of the suburbs, especially when it’s pleasant to walk through. I’ve been in the northwest suburbs going on two decades, yet I had no notion of Abrahamsen Park until the other day.Abrahamsen Park, Schaumburg

Actually, that’s not quite true. I regularly drive by one part of the park, which fronts a small but important road, and from that vantage you can see the park’s baseball diamond, basketball court, tennis court and playground. All those things are available closer to home — and it’s been years since I’ve needed a playground — so I never gave Abrahamsen much thought.

Turns out there’s a walking path as well. It begins behind those facilities and runs a quarter mile or so along a small creek through a neighborhood. That is, through fenceless back yards facing the creek and walking path. I expect it’s known almost only to people who live nearby, so hidden is it. As I walked, I reveled in the obscurity of it.

Abrahamsen Park, Schaumburg

This time of the year, even in a dry June, the way along the creek is lush.

Abrahamsen Park, Schaumburg Abrahamsen Park, Schaumburg

At one end are towering trees.

Abrahamsen Park, Schaumburg Abrahamsen Park, Schaumburg

Eastern cottonwoods (Populus deltoides), I think, and I won’t pretend I didn’t have to look that up.

I’ll Add It: No Air Horns Please

Ann will be attending an actual in-person high school graduation ceremony next week. We’ll be there too. Detailed instructions arrived today via email.

ARRIVAL OF GRADUATE

6:00 p.m. Enter the N Arena at Door 11

Arrive dressed in business casual, with their cap, gown, tassel (right side) and mask already on — no flip flops.

Bags, purses, flowers, balloons, cell phones, etc. are not allowed and students will not be admitted with these items, no exceptions.

Graduates must wear their mask and keep it on for the entire ceremony.

Graduates will walk through metal detectors and have their gown unzipped to expedite the screening process.

Graduates will be directed to the main floor and report directly to their assigned seat.
All graduates’ names will be read as some may be viewing remotely. Please wait to hear your name before walking forward on the stage.

ENTRANCE FOR GUESTS

Beginning at 6:00 p.m. – Main Entrance

Guests will enter at the Main Entrance of the N Arena

Please be mindful of social distancing guidelines as you approach the entrance.

All guests must have your mask on and ticket(s) ready as you approach the door.

Please note: The N Arena has implemented a Clear Bag Policy, which is detailed at nowarena.com. This limits the size of bags entering the Arena and requires the majority of bags to be clear to streamline the security screening. Exceptions made for medical, family or child care bags or small clutches, no larger than 4.5’” x 6.5”.

Note: there’s more, but nothing in there about air horns.

Thursday Extras

This was in a window we walked by in west suburban Wheaton not long ago. I like the neon. Who doesn’t like neon? Who doesn’t like gelato? I’d never had any gelato until I went to Florence. That was a great place to experience it for the first time.
gelato
We didn’t stop by for any gelato. We did buy a couple of most delicious pastries at a nearby place called Suzette’s.

I found this card in Peoria recently. Near Bradley U. Not at the store itself, but while picking up food at Jerk Hut, where we bought some tasty jerk chicken.
Interesting that the students of Bradley, some of whose parents weren’t around for the original iteration of hippies, would support such a business. Then again, the key might be in that now-obsolete code term tobacco accessories.

I heard a few seconds of an ad on YouTube recently featuring a young Brit walking along the Thames, with the Tower Bridge in the background, to make absolutely sure we know he’s British, as if his dialect didn’t tell us that. He said something along the lines that such-and-such was going “redefine the way you think about men’s makeup.”

Fat chance, ya limey bastard. I can sum up my thinking on men’s makeup in one pithy sentence that isn’t going to change: I’m never wearing any.

Got a press release the other day from someone — some automated mailing list — that doesn’t appreciate my commercial real estate beat.

“With #chlorophyll and #chlorophyllwater trending on social media, I wanted to put Chlorophyll Water® (the only bottled, pre-made chlorophyll drink on the market) on your radar, as it’s selling out in retailers across the country,” the release asserted.

“A favorite amongst Kourtney Kardashian, Rosario Dawson, Mandy Moore and Aly Reisman, Chlorophyll Water® is a plant-powered purified water enhanced by nature with the addition of Chlorophyll, a key ingredient and the distinct green pigment in plant life.”

I probably won’t be a consumer of that product, but who knows? Chlorophyll might be tastier than I think. Also, glad to report that I’ve only heard of two of those celebrities, only one of whom I can acknowledge has some talent.

Received some direct mail the other day promising better lawns through chemistry. It is spring, after all. As chilly as temps have been, it’s still green out there. Anyway, on the outside of the envelope, it says:

Dandelions. Crabgrass. Weeds.

Act now to stop those lawn problems and receive your 20% neighborhood discount.

Plus a FREE Core Aeration. See details inside.

Problems, you say? I say it’s biodiversity. The suburbs need it, too.

This is a gimme letter envelope I had to scan, from a statewide advocacy org with its eye on utility rates. I suspect the risk is pretty small, considering the distinct history of the two states.

You know, in some other context, some other organization might be sending letters screaming, Texas Cannot Become Illinois.

Men Not At Work

Finally a day warm enough to eat lunch on my deck. Worth noting, and I just did.

A small road crew showed up on my street not long ago and did work on some storm drains. They posted orange cones and MEN AT WORK signs. How long will it be before the village preemptively starts using WORKERS AHEAD? Not because anyone complained, just because they worry that someone might.

The sign was accurate, however. It seemed to be an all-male crew. They disappeared for lunch at one point.Minor Roadwork

That afforded me a good look down the hole.
Minor Roadwork
Under our feet all the time, yet invisible almost all of the time. That afternoon the workers returned and installed a new storm drain, so this small bit of underground is invisible once more.