Anna Maria Alberghetti in a Wintry Mix, Honey

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Another day above freezing. That’s a good thing, except for the current forecast. The following is direct from the National Weather Service, which is worthy of respect for its accuracy, but also the fact that it doesn’t fix cute names to winter storms. The NWS put out this “Special Statement” for my part of the country early this evening.

RAIN AND EVEN SOME THUNDERSTORMS WILL DEVELOP ACROSS NORTHERN ILLINOIS LATER TONIGHT. HOWEVER… TEMPERATURES ACROSS FAR NORTHERN ILLINOIS… MAINLY ALONG AND NORTH OF INTERSTATE 88… [we’re north of I-88 by a few miles] MAY REMAIN COLD ENOUGH TONIGHT FOR THIS PRECIPITATION TO BEGIN AS A WINTRY MIX OF SNOW… SLEET OR FREEZING RAIN BEFORE MUCH WARMER TEMPERATURES ARRIVE THURSDAY MORNING.

DUE TO THE FACT THAT THE PRECIPITATION COULD FALL AT A HEAVY RATE LATE TONIGHT…THIS COULD RESULT IN SOME SNOW OR ICE ACCUMULATIONS ACROSS PORTIONS OF THE AREA BY DAYBREAK THURSDAY… POSSIBLY IMPACTING THE MORNING COMMUTE.

CURRENTLY IT APPEARS THAT A COUPLE INCHES INCHES OF SNOW MAY ACCUMULATE BEFORE THE WINTRY MIX CHANGES TO ALL RAIN EARLY THURSDAY MORNING.

Odd forecast. Deuced odd, it is.

Speaking of odd, it took me nearly 40 years to get the following knock-knock joke, as told by Ted Baxter during the Sept. 13, 1975, episode of The Mary Tyler Moore Show, “Edie Gets Married.”

Not that I’ve been puzzling over it for 40 years. I’d forgotten all about it until today, walking around in the fairly pleasant afternoon air, when I thought, What did that joke about Anna Maria Alberghetti mean? Memory works in mysterious ways.

Just as unlikely, I remembered to look it up when I got home, connecting the joke to “Darktown Strutters’ Ball,” which I’d heard before – but (much) more recently than 1975. It was clearly a joke for grownups back then, back when sitcom writers actually wrote jokes for grownups.

A lot of singers have done the song. Fats Domino’s version is here.

Moon of New Orleans

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A day above freezing. I’m always surprised on such days how much snow melts. Most of the roof is uncovered, for instance. None of the ground is. It wasn’t that warm. Besides, we still have a deep covering left over from a slow accumulation all winter.

Something I learned today: former New Orleans Mayor Moon Landrieu is still alive at 83. Good for Moon. I thought about him because I read about Sen. Mary Landrieu’s bid for re-election, and remembered that he was her father. I can’t claim to know much about the Landrieus (Landrieux?) or Louisiana politics, except it’s inordinately colorful and rare is the governor who avoids indictment.

But Moon Landrieu has long been a favorite politician name, ever since I heard of him back during high school. That just sounds right for a N’Orleans pol, tripping right off your tongue. According to Wiki at least, he was born Maurice but at some point changed it legally to Moon.

Late Winter Dog Holes

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More new snow out there, some four or five inches. Just waiting to be re-arranged slightly by me so that our auto-mobiles can made forward progress away from the garage. Or rather, backward motion out of our driveway.

But at least the snow didn’t come as part of a crippling blizzard. Even better, it’s supposed to be above freezing for part of the rest of the week. Slowly the Northern Hemisphere angles toward the Sun. Spring is nigh, and we can look forward to thunderstorms, mud, flood warnings, and the specter of tornadoes.

Meantime, the dog entertains herself by digging holes in the snow.

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERAGo figure. Looking forward to digging in the mud, probably.

Chief Magistrate Blog Revised

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“Presidents Day” is nearly upon us again. Time to dwell on the immortal deeds of David Rice Atchison. Just kidding. I don’t care what’s on his tombstone, he never held the office. Snopes has a long-winded discussion of the matter, but covers it pretty well.

Ten years ago I was long-winded myself when I wrote that “one of my travel hobbies, whenever it’s possible — and it isn’t too often — is to visit presidential sites. I’ve only been doing this since about 1996, so I can’t call it a life-long pursuit. And I rarely go out of my way to see a presidential site. But if it’s around, I’ll seek it out.”

Then I listed the sites I’ve managed to see, with a little commentary. I will update the list here, with places visited in the last 10 years italicized, plus more links than anyone’s likely to care about. It occurs to me that I haven’t added very many over the last decade. I’d need to spend more time on the East Coast, Virginia in particular, to run up the total, or closer at hand, Ohio.

Washington Monument, DC. Inspired by Egypt, hotbed of democracy. But a fine work all the same; Federal Hall, Wall Street, New York. Site of Washington’s first inauguration.

Monticello. Fascinating place, but I understand that home improvements drove Jefferson into penury; Jefferson Memorial, DC.

The Hermitage, Jackson‘s home in Nashville. Made quite an impression on me when I was 8. Still good as an adult.

Tippecanoe Battlefield, where Wm. Henry Harrison won his fame. The best diversion on the dull drive between Chicago and Indianapolis. More details here.

Polk‘s grave, Nashville. A neglected president, because his style of imperialism is out of fashion.

Lincoln‘s tomb, home (Springfield, Ill.); Lincoln Memorial, Ford’s Theater (DC); Lincoln’s New Salem State Historic Site, Ill., where Lincoln lived as a young man; Lincoln Birthplace, Lincoln Boyhood Home (Ky.);  Lincoln’s Landing, Lockport, Ill.; Site of the Wigwam, where Lincoln was nominated, Chicago; Lincoln Museum, Springfield. Hadn’t been opened 10 years ago.

Andrew Johnson‘s birthplace, Raleigh, NC. Andrew Johnson NHS and Andrew Johnson grave, Greeneville, Tenn.

Grant‘s home, Galena, Ill., Grant’s home, St. Louis. At the latter, my brother and I looked around for empty whisky bottles, but no luck; Grant’s tomb, NYC. Well worth seeing.

Hayes‘ home and grave, Fremont, Ohio. The docent was really glad to see me. Stopped there to break up a trip on the interminable Ohio Turnpike.

Benjamin Harrison‘s home, Indianapolis. This docent was glad too. Nice Victorian house; Benjamin Harrison’s grave, Indianapolis. Too simple. Some governors of Indiana had better headstones. (I’m not so sure its simplicity is a bad thing any more; it’s got republican virtue going for it.)

Teddy Roosevelt‘s boyhood home, NYC. A well-done replica of the original brownstone, which actually has a brown exterior.

Taft’s grave, Arlington National Cemetery, Va.

The Blackstone Hotel (Smoke-Filled Room, Harding), Chicago

Hoover Library, Hoover’s birthplace, Hoover’s grave, West Branch, Iowa. I admire Hoover because he was a well-traveled man.

FDR Memorial, DC. Detailed here.

Truman Library, Truman’s home, Truman’s grave, Independence, Mo. There’s something a little odd about being buried on the grounds of your library, but there he is with Bess.

JFK grave, Arlington National Cemetery, Va.; Kennedy death limo, Dearborn, Mich.; Sixth Floor Museum, Dallas (forgot to list this 10 years ago. Yuriko and I went there in 1992).

LBJ ranch, LBJ grave, Stonewall, Tex. The historical re-enactors at the ranch refused to give me, the only visitor, any of the pie they had made. LBJ Library, Austin.

Nixon Library, Nixon’s boyhood home, Nixon’s grave, Yorba Linda, Calif. Where President Nixon lies still.

Ford Museum, Grand Rapids; Ford grave, Grand Rapids. He wasn’t dead yet in 2004.

Carter Library, Atlanta. Every now and then I have a touch of nostalgia for the Carter administration. No mention of the Killer Rabbit incident or Billy Beer at the library, however.

Reagan‘s boyhood home, Dixon, Ill. Bizarre statue next door of Reagan holding kernels of corn.

George HW Bush‘s Kinnebunkport home, Maine. I was a little lost on the coastal roads of Maine that day, I’m pretty sure I saw it from a distance in 1989. I’m surprised I was able to get as close as I did, but I suppose he wasn’t there that day.

Clinton Birthplace, Hope, Ark.

Also, the White House. That would be associated with every president since John Adams.

042And the U.S. Capitol. Besides statues of various chief magistrates, there are plaques on the floor in the old House chamber, now Statuary Hall, marking the locations of the desks of J.Q. Adams, Tyler, Polk, Fillmore, Pierce, Buchanan, Lincoln and Andrew Johnson.

Finally, St. John’s Episcopal Church, DC, the church that’s been visited by every sitting president since Madison, complete with a presidential pew and kneeling cushions with the names of presidents on them.

Shiny Lincolns

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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

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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

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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

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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

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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

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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.