I took the expressway to work friday with a man from the 18th century. I think he was suitably impressed with the car, my driving, and the lack of horse traffic. But how couldn't he be? A trip like that would have taken a couple days back then, now it takes only an hour or so. I'm sure he had never gone so fast.
I showed him the radio, and how you could get different types of stations: music, news, talk. He was astonished by the variety and the quality (except where the reception is poor around exit 52). Though he seemed a bit overwhelmed by some of the music that I listened to. Surprizingly, he wasn't that interested in the news.
It turns out that he is from around here. He was amazed at how much it had changed, but he took it pretty well considering. I wanted to ask if I could stay with him if I went to the 18th century, but I didn't get the chance, as he vanished unexpectedly around exit 64.
Monday, May 26, 2008
Sunday, May 18, 2008
The Spectacle of the Spectacle, a.k.a. "The Lens"
I have some viewing suggestions to commemorate the 40th anniversary of the student uprisings in Paris. Firstly, I submit "The Society of the Spectacle", the classic by Guy Debord. I should warn you that some might consider parts of it a bit off color for its time (1973). Secondly, would-be Lyndon LaRouche fans will do well to check out "Zeitgeist, The Movie", if they haven't already. And those of you upstate, or perhaps just out in the country, would undoubtedly prefer something a bit less flashy, and slightly more demonic, hence "A Chat with Glendora".
Saturday, May 10, 2008
A Kind of House Synopsis
Before I attend to the business at hand, I just want to say a few words about my home for posterity. You see, I have just received notice that my house is to be condemned, and I will have to move out within the week. I knew it was only a matter of time, but I never imagined it would end this way.
Realize that I am an accomplished cook, known for putting out the finest of spreads. Yet, as much time as was spent in the kitchen, my concern for matters in the dining room was even greater. The curtains in there are linen, and so that they not discolor, I never use the fireplace, no matter the season.
I like a nice lamp, and I have one in each room. A couple of them are even bejewelled, and they all have shades of different colors. My cat likes to gnaw at their chords. I give him old chords to play with, but these chords aren't plugged in, so he doesn't like them as much. I think he likes it when the lights flicker. I don't mind it either, unless I am knitting, or reading a book. The rug in the den is worn through to the floor in spots, so I can only wear slippers.
The paint on the ceilings suffers from bubbles. Given enough time, this is what gravity will do to any paint. And in the foyer it's cracking, and I suppose it's sagging a bit too. I guess you could say it looks like it's about to collapse. But I'll miss some of the wallpaper, especially on the upstairs stairs where my elbow regularly rubs up against the wall. All that rubbing has worn it down so you can see green with a spattering of tiny gold stars from the wallpaper that's underneath.
I don't know much about dust, except that it comes from the sun and travels through windows on sunbeams. That's why I keep the venetian blinds closed as much as possible. Sometimes I pretend there are two little boys under the bed building forts with dust bunnies. When the night is still, I can hear them. But it's not often all that still as the squirrels in the attic are always at each others throats.
Lately, I eat dinner in the den, sitting in the loveseat right in front of television. My favorite show is Top Cat. It's on channel 5 at seven-thirty, and has been for years.
Realize that I am an accomplished cook, known for putting out the finest of spreads. Yet, as much time as was spent in the kitchen, my concern for matters in the dining room was even greater. The curtains in there are linen, and so that they not discolor, I never use the fireplace, no matter the season.
I like a nice lamp, and I have one in each room. A couple of them are even bejewelled, and they all have shades of different colors. My cat likes to gnaw at their chords. I give him old chords to play with, but these chords aren't plugged in, so he doesn't like them as much. I think he likes it when the lights flicker. I don't mind it either, unless I am knitting, or reading a book. The rug in the den is worn through to the floor in spots, so I can only wear slippers.
The paint on the ceilings suffers from bubbles. Given enough time, this is what gravity will do to any paint. And in the foyer it's cracking, and I suppose it's sagging a bit too. I guess you could say it looks like it's about to collapse. But I'll miss some of the wallpaper, especially on the upstairs stairs where my elbow regularly rubs up against the wall. All that rubbing has worn it down so you can see green with a spattering of tiny gold stars from the wallpaper that's underneath.
I don't know much about dust, except that it comes from the sun and travels through windows on sunbeams. That's why I keep the venetian blinds closed as much as possible. Sometimes I pretend there are two little boys under the bed building forts with dust bunnies. When the night is still, I can hear them. But it's not often all that still as the squirrels in the attic are always at each others throats.
Lately, I eat dinner in the den, sitting in the loveseat right in front of television. My favorite show is Top Cat. It's on channel 5 at seven-thirty, and has been for years.
Thursday, May 1, 2008
Concerning the Downstate Shrub Situation
It should be understood that I have absolutely no right to have anything against the rhododendron per se. But it is decidedly not fragrant, unlike the lilac. I confess that I didn't really know about the lilac until I spent a bit of time upstate. Not in the sense of 'up the river' or 'in the looney bin', mind you. And a well bit further up than Tarrytown, if you don't mind me saying so. It's getting on to be a good 25 to 30 years ago now that my ignorance confounded me. Not surprising though that I didn't know about the lilac before then, as here they are few and far between. "What could be the reason?", I wondered.
Well, you'll just have to take my word for it that rhododendrons do not grow well in climates much colder than our own. Which explains why there are not many upstate, but that doesn't mean lilacs won't also grow well here. However, I planted a lilac once down here, and it didn't do well.
These landscapers just love their azaleas and rhododendrons. They flower, and I bet they're plenty easy to plant and maintain. But it disturbs me that such stout specimens of the shrub kingdom, together with the Yew bush (which is not unrelated to the redwood, but is unrelated to the sheep) should be our premiere representatives here in the suburbs of Levittown.
Let them plant their norway maples, but where are the sugar maples? "Sorry, they are not so urban hardy.", I can hear them saying. I get the picture. Robert Moses should have a shrub named after him. I am surprised that the Robert Moses Causeway is not lined with Pachysandra.
An irishman brought to my attention the whereabouts of two lilacs in the area. They are on Booth street, past the schoolyard. One is white, the other purple. Both seem to be doing well. I'm told that they grow wild in ireland, much like the potato.
Well, you'll just have to take my word for it that rhododendrons do not grow well in climates much colder than our own. Which explains why there are not many upstate, but that doesn't mean lilacs won't also grow well here. However, I planted a lilac once down here, and it didn't do well.
These landscapers just love their azaleas and rhododendrons. They flower, and I bet they're plenty easy to plant and maintain. But it disturbs me that such stout specimens of the shrub kingdom, together with the Yew bush (which is not unrelated to the redwood, but is unrelated to the sheep) should be our premiere representatives here in the suburbs of Levittown.
Let them plant their norway maples, but where are the sugar maples? "Sorry, they are not so urban hardy.", I can hear them saying. I get the picture. Robert Moses should have a shrub named after him. I am surprised that the Robert Moses Causeway is not lined with Pachysandra.
An irishman brought to my attention the whereabouts of two lilacs in the area. They are on Booth street, past the schoolyard. One is white, the other purple. Both seem to be doing well. I'm told that they grow wild in ireland, much like the potato.
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