2622 Pizza in the middle of nowhere

Thursday, October 15, 2009

The town I'm from is so small, Charles Kuralt has been there twice.

------------------------------------

Last night I joined 17 other people from the Orange County Outdoors Singles Meetup group for calamari, pizza, and beer (I drank water) at a restaurant in Vails Gate (or as my GPS knows it, "Huh? Where?").  I found the place entirely by accident.

Getting there involved taking the Thruway to Newburgh.  The state had been working on the Thruway near that exit for months, and I didn't realize that they'd changed where the ramp exited.  The intersections in that area had always confused me anyway, and last night when the Thruway dumped me out onto the highway, I had absolutely no idea where I was.  I recognized nothing.  The man in the GPS had fits, because he thought I was in the middle of a field.  Not that it mattered much what he thought, because he didn't know where I was going.  I knew Vails Gate was south of Newburgh, but I went two wrong directions before I found south.

Someone had commented on the website that the restaurant was "on rte 32 after the second light after Five Corners", which name the GPS also didn't recognize.   I was just bopping along following the road signs that said "Vails Gate thataway -->", hoping I'd find some clue, and happened to look up at the GPS as I was going through a weird intersection, and noticed that the intersection looked like a perfect five-pointed star!  Ta-rah!

And people don't believe me when I say I almost never get seriously lost.

The group seemed like nice folks.  The man across the table from me was about my age and seemed interested, looked at me and caught my eye and smiled a lot, but he's an avid downhill skier.  I said I hate winter, and then the divorcee sitting next to him brightened and spent the next half hour rhapsodizing about skiing.  That's one of the things I dislike about singles' groups - there's a sense of competitiveness.  I'm not interested in competing.

This group has a dog hike on Saturday, followed by dinner at a steak house, followed by a movie at an art house with the producer there for discussion.  I had signed up for it, but it looks like the hike part may be canceled - there's SNOW predicted for Saturday, and nobody's ready for that yet.  Not even the avid skiers.

-----------------------

I did six loads of laundry at the laundromat today.  Now my upper back hurts.  I made sure the bags weren't so heavy this time, but I've about concluded that it's not the weight, it's standing at the folding table with my arms out in front of me that kills my back.

2621 My Montel

Wednesday, October 14, 2009

It isn’t how you start that matters, it’s how you finish.

---------------------------

Twenty years ago I had a mad wild crush on Montel Williams.

I don't agree with some of his enthusiasms, like that insufferable woman who sees ghosts "standing behind" people, but he's an otherwise intelligent, compassionate, sensitive, giving, inspirational man.  The gorgeous body doesn't hurt.

I read his book about his struggles getting a correct diagnosis when that gorgeous body did hurt.  I felt so sorry for him when shortly after his MS diagnosis his wife left him.  I don't know her side of the story, but my impression was that she just didn't want that life, didn't want to be bothered.  Disloyal.  I wanted to volunteer to take her place.

His show doesn't seem to be on any of the channels I get, so for the past several years I wondered how he was doing.

He was a guest host on "The Drs" this morning.  He looks great!  I'm so happy for him.

2620 Food Flags

Tuesday, October 13, 2009

"Anyone who inhabits himself cannot believe in objective thinking."
Hugh Prather, Notes to Myself

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This is fun - from the Sydney International food festival, country flags made of the food that country is famous for.  See how many you can figure out from the food used before looking at the answers in the comments.

1.

2.

3.

4.

5.

6.

7.

8.

9.

10.

11.

12.

Maybe ALL flags should be like this!  It would make things so much easier, and pleasant.  And no less full of country (kitchen) pride.

2619 It may as well be a herd of buffalo.

Tuesday, October 13, 2009

"Next time I will...." "From now on I will...." -
What makes me think I am wiser today than I will be tomorrow?
Hugh Prather, Notes to Myself

--------------------------------

Jasper is dismantling the house.

I've had cats almost all my life.  Most were adopted straight from their mothers, a few were found strays who had obviously been pets, but Jasper is my first tamed feral.  Most of my cats showed no interest in mice.  A few considered them toys, and gifts for Mommy once they stopped moving and sort of "fell apart".  Jasper knows mice are food, and he actively hunts.

Now is the time of year when mice, looking for a warmer home, somehow manage to get into the house.  

Jasper must have seen a mouse go behind one of the bookcases in the hall.  He systematically removed all the books from the bottom two shelves of all four while I was out yesterday.  That's 24 board feet of books spread all over the floor.

Today he's convinced a mouse is here in the den, where there are piles of paper, fabric, and computer parts all over the place, making good hiding places.  They are no longer piles.  Now it's all scattered mixed mounds.

I'm happy he's getting some exercise and enjoying himself.  But I wonder if I could rig some kind of little treadmill and laser lure contraption before he takes anything else apart.

2618 No resistance

Sunday, October 11, 2009

Paul Levine, in Night Vision, on "image":   "It may not get the job done,
but it makes it possible to get the job done."

-----------------------------

I went to the antiques fair today.  I hadn't intended to look for anything, just look at stuff, but one of the first things I saw was a walnut Eastlake-Inspired/Renaissance Revival marble-topped side table, exactly what I've been searching for for the past seven years.  I see them at auctions, and in antique shops, but they always go for more than $800 (how much more depending on the condition of the marble), which is way more than I am willing to pay.

I almost died when I saw the price tag.  $175.  A that price I figured something had to be very wrong with it, but aside from needing joints tightened, cleaning, finish refreshing, and one tiny chip in the marble near the middle of the top, it's in good condition for close to one hundred years old. 

I'm putting money away for the trip to Morocco, and trying to pay off credit cards, and with new tax rules and new medical insurance costs, my income has taken a hit, so right now I really can't afford it.  But I well know that if I didn't buy it, I'd be kicking myself for the next seven years while I continue to search for its non-existent twin.

It's in the back seat of my car.

2617 Mount Peter walk

Saturday, October 10, 2009

Paul Levine, in Night Vision: "We are all born psychopaths, born without repressions.

Society teaches us the restraints of proper behavior

and helps us develop a conscience."

-----------------------------------------------

Today was the Mensa hike on a piece of the Appalachian Trail, on Mount Peter.  Originally ten or so people were interested, but then there was rain over the past few days, continuing into this morning, so a lot of people were afraid of mud and dripping trees and dropped out.  Weaklings!  The total amount of rain was less than an inch!

So four of us went, A., C., P., and me, and it was fine.

There will be a photo or two with me in it after P. sends them.

We started at the hawk watch platform, where two women from the Audubon Society were counting migrating raptors.  They count from early September through mid-November.  It's a cold cold job, standing up there in the wind.

Then we used P.'s hiking GPS and looked for a geocache that was supposed to be near the hawk tower.  I was giggling because it was described as "at the base of a cedar tree in view of the hawk tower, under a piece of bark", and I was the only person able to identify a cedar tree.  ("No, that's a hickory."  "No, that's a white pine, but at least you're getting warmer.")  The last time a Mensa group visited the hawk tower, the guys had searched in "front" of the tower.  Weird how a) the tower seems to have a view orientation, and b) everyone searched "in front".  Turns out the GPS pointed us "behind" the tower.  Hey guys, that's still "in view of".

I found the cache.  C. took out a souvenir pin from Scotland and put in a Euro coin worth about five cents, and I signed the logbook.  I'll log the find on the geocache website later this evening.

Then we walked the Appalachian Trail to a rocky overlook.  The guys said it was a little over two miles from where we picked up the trail, but I don't think so.  It felt to me like about a mile.

The trail continued across the rocks, but we turned back here.  You can see a white spot on the far rock, next to the red blotch.  The white spot is a trail marker (a blaze).  Follow the dotted line....

I was a little disappointed that we didn't go farther, but it was very cold and windy in the exposed areas (although it was warmish in the woods), and people got hungry.  So we went for pizza.

2616 Disclaimer

Saturday, October 10, 2009

Robert Heinlein: A "nine-days' wonder" is taken as a matter of course on the tenth day.

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2615 Cleaning out the closet

Friday, October 9, 2009

Robert Heinlein: "Being right too soon is socially unacceptable."

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I was supposed to go to a games/drinks/bowling social evening tonight, but decided against it at the last minute.  The clothing laundry pile had grown to 64 cubic feet (well, that's what it looked like, anyway), so I decided to take three loads of "dark" to the laundromat.  I actually prefer the laundromat over my washer and dryer because I can do multiple loads concurrently.  Plus my washer is old, needs to be babysat to ensure it doesn't overflow, and the well water is super hard and can often be silty.

So anyhow, I returned with clothes to be put away, and realized there was no place to put them.  My closet is in transition.  I'm midway in weight between too heavy and ok, and the weather is midway between summer and winter, so there's an excess of wear-now clothes.

I decided to spend the evening sorting.  There are things in the bedroom closet that I know I will never wear again, and other things I won't wear again until next spring and which should be shifted to a spare bedroom closet.  But, heh heh, the spare closets are already full of things I'll never wear again.

Trying on clothes now.  Five piles - keep out for now, put away for spring, toss, donate, sell.  I'm finding things I love and had forgotten I had.

Same with shoes.  All that's out right now is summer sandals and so on, one pair of walking shoes, and one pair of ankle boots.  My winter shoes are --- somewhere.  I'm hoping I'll find them in the next few days.

2614 Frittering

Thursday, October 8, 2009

Hugh Prather, Notes to Myself: "If the desire to write

is not accompanied by actual writing,

then the desire is not to write."

------------------------------------------

The above quote applies to everything.  If I truly want to see the world, I should be planning trips.  If I want to make pretty things, I should be setting up a work area.  If I want to lose weight, I should be walking more.  If I want to have company, I should be cleaning up the clutter.  If I want a man to care for me and whom I can care for, for the next twenty years or so, it doesn't make a lot of sense to fiddle around now.  I should be looking for that guy.  I guess I have to decide what I really want.  Apparently it's not travel, production, neat body, guests, or intimacy beyond great sex.

Last night I had dinner in an Italian restaurant in Albany.  It was "restaurant week", whatever that means, so we had a three-course dinner for $20.09.  It was disappointing.  My entree was shrimp scampi.  The shrimp were overcooked and tough, and the sauce was flavorless. Most of the Meetup dinners seem to average eight or nine women and one or two men.  This time, at least, there were five men and two women, odds I like better.  I have always preferred male conversation.  It seems to have a point.

Nothing much else is going on.  I have a very long "to do" list and I seem to be making no headway on it at all, and I have no reason and no excuse.  Time just seems to flow away on inconsequential but insistent items.

By the way, the best corn fritters are made with Bisquick and a can of creamed corn.  I forget the ratio, but it should be such that it makes a thick sticky pasty batter.  Then you drop by large round spoonfuls into hot oil and deep fry until they're light brown, ball-shaped, and puffy.  Serve with maple-flavored syrup.

2613 Big Giant and Little Giantess

Wednesday, October 7, 2009

The early bird deserves the worm.

--------------------------------------------

More great photos from Boston.com.  The full set of 35 photos tells a story, using huge French marionettes in a multi-day play in the streets of Berlin, part of the celebration of the 20th anniversary of the fall of the Berlin Wall.  Go, look, marvel.

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I'm going to dinner in Albany tonight. The wind is high in the trees, leaves blowing horizontally past the windows. Sixty-three degrees. If this were not a very popular restaurant (the group count was filled a week ago, and it's a bit late to bump someone on the waitlist), I'd cancel. Stay home and stay warm and safe.

I hate cold.

2612 Catching Up

Tuesday, October 6, 2009

L. Long:  "I shot an arrow into the air. It's still going - everywhere!"

-----------------------------

The above quote seems to apply to this old post.  I'm getting an increasing number of search hits a day landing on that post, people looking for information on the strange message.

Today's visitors were from Bronx, New York; Denver, Colorado; Gig Harbor, Washington; Buffalo, New York; Davidson, North Carolina; Buxton, Derbyshire, UK; and Los Angeles, California.  That virus is really getting around!


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Saturday I went to Greenwich Village with The Gypsy for Venus Uprising's "Metamorphosis".  Many of The Gypsy's colleagues and friends were either in the show or in the audience.  Me, I just went for the city visit and the show, and was more than satisfied with both.  We arrived early enough for a sushi dinner and a little street wandering, and the dancing was mostly wonderful.

Photos from the show are here.  (Gypsy - these photos confirm that Autumn's dress is the one from the DVD, and it does have dangly sleeves.)

----------------------------

Sunday I attacked the mound of paper on the desk.  Monday I went to the movies in Fishkill, and saw "Julie and Julia".  You don't have to be a cook to enjoy it (although it did leave me with a desire to make Boeuf Bourguignon, even though I dislike wine in sauces).

There's been a lot of discussion about how they managed to make Meryl Streep look so tall by surrounding her with shorter people, standing her on stools, and so on.  Mostly that worked, but I did notice a few times when her arms were much too short for the level of her waist, and one scene in a restaurant when we get a side view, and it's very obvious she's sitting on a cushion at least eight inches thick - either that, or Meryl's rear end sticks out a LOT farther than I thought!

Yeah, inability to suspend disbelief again.

----------------------------

I've been trying to resolve a medical insurance problem.  The lab that handled one of my blood tests billed me a certain amount for the procedure.  My insurance company disallowed $70 of the charges as an included part of another procedure, paid the contractual amount to the lab, and the Explanation of Benefits (EOB) instructed me to pay only $1.79.  Which I did.  I enclosed a letter with the check to the lab explaining that I had been advised by the small print on both the EOB and the lab invoice that if there was a discrepancy I should pay only the amount indicated by the EOB, which I did.

Obviously no one from the lab read the letter, which pisses me off.  If they had, I would assume they would check the EOB, and if they had a problem they'd go to the insurance company to resolve it.  After all, the contract is between those two, and it's not something I can resolve, because I don't know what their agreement is.

The lab phone number gets me to an automated system, where I can review my account, pay a bill, change my contact/insurance info, and that's all.  There's no way to get a person.  I wrote another letter, which got no response except more overdue notices.  Then it went to a collection company, who have gotten progressively nastier.  I called them, and they gave me a number I could call to get a real person at the lab office.  The lab wanted me to fax the invoice and EOB (they don't have copies?), and no, a scanned attachment to an email won't do, they "have to have the original hardcopy".  When I pointed out that an attachment to an email can be printed, and what comes out of a fax machine is not "the original" anyway, the woman didn't get it**.  It must be faxed.  Period.

Three weeks, many hours on hold, several trips to the print shop in town, and over $15 in postage, gasoline, and fax costs (to convince them I owe only $1.79, which was paid), it is still not resolved, and they are now threatening my credit rating.

I wonder how many people just give up and pay the $70.  I'm not sick or elderly, but  I'm already at my wit's end.  Maybe that's why they ignore letters and ensure that you can't get to them by phone.  They just want to ignore and let the person give up and pay.

Me?  I want the fax costs and postage refunded!

-----------------------------

**That reminds me of a lawsuit I reviewed once, where the plaintiff didn't have a copy of the contract  because "I faxed it to the defendant.  I don't have it anymore.  They have it now!"  Boing?  Do these women think the paper is disassembled and teleported through the fax machine?

2611 Before you forgive, know what you are forgiving!

 Monday, October 5, 2009

L. Long: "Anyone who considers protocol unimportant

has never dealt with a cat."

---------------------------------------------

I rarely comment on anything that's going on beyond my sphere, because it can cause arguments in the comments, and I don't want to get into that.  But I don't have many commenters anyway, so I'll chance it.

I was watching the news (oops, "news") this morning, and the first item was David Letterman's recent admission, followed by Jon and Kate Gosselin's latest spat, then Michelle Obama's exercise routine, then I forget what was next, but it was definitely not what I tune in to the news for.  Is nothing else happening in the world?  Do I really have to go to the BBC to get US and world news?

The talk shows this morning were also full of Letterman and the Gosselins, but that's ok.  That's where one should expect to hear that kind of "news".

Most people commenting on the Letterman thing despise the blackmailer, but seem to see nothing wrong with what Letterman had done.  Like, "Well, he was single then" (as if infidelity was the issue), and "Coworkers date all the time", and "He's rich and famous and fun - who wouldn't want to date him", and "What's the big deal?"  I think any woman who doesn't understand what's wrong must have entered her working life after woman's lib, after recognition of such things as sexual harassment, and they've never experienced what can occur.  Kathie Lee and Hoda seem to have understood the issues, and now they're getting slammed in comments on their website.

It reminds me of the Polanski thing, people who want to excuse a man who raped a child and then jumped bail simply because they like his movies.  Please! 

I've copied a comment I left on another blog:

I'm a little upset at the "what's the big deal" attitude [re Letterman]. Yeah, he's rich and powerful and probably fun, and a woman might flirt and invite attention. But even if that's what was going on, it's still not ok.

Most companies have rules about relationships between people in the workplace in the "line of command", and for good reason. When someone has control of your job, your appraisals, your paycheck, acquiescence to advances is not always voluntary. This was a huge problem in the '50s and '60s, before such rules were in place. Back then, if a superior made unwelcome advances, a woman's only choice was to give in or quit the job.

In the Very Large Computer Manufacturer I used to work for, if a manager wanted to date someone who reported to him or her at any level, the underling had to be transferred to another area first. Otherwise, both would be fired, and it DID happen. Even husbands and wives working as peers had to be separated by at least two levels of management.

Any time one person has control over another's livelihood and employment, there's an element of coercion. If not to start, then at the end, and the coercion can go either way. It might start out consensual, but what if you want to end it and he doesn't? Does servicing the boss become part of your job description?

So far, no woman has come forward to say she felt coerced. But the power threat is still there - "if you want to continue in the job, keep your mouth shut".

Yeah, I think this is a big deal.

 I think that about covers it.

2610 The ant and the grasshopper.

Saturday, October 3, 2009

"The rich get rich because they keep doing the things that make them rich.

The poor get poorer, or stay poor, because they keep doing the things

that make them poor."

----------------------------------

The above quote was found in a comment on Scott Adams' blog.  The commenter didn't remember where he got it, and it doesn't turn up anywhere else in a Google search.

It's absolutely true in my experience.  As others have pointed out, there seems to be a rich-mentality and a poor-mentality.  People with a poor-mentality who get windfalls spend or lose it within a few years.  They make short-term decisions, and pretty soon it's all gone, frittered away.  People with a rich-mentality make long-term decisions.  They develope a habit of using what they have to grow more. 

It's not a matter of where we start out.  Wealth inherited is often gone within two generations.  It has more to do with a frugal mindset, living within one's means, planning for the future, and/or not having a sense of entitlement.  It's tied up in our definition of what makes us happy, and whether we need immediate gratification, or whether we are willing to accept a lower level of happiness over a longer term.

It's the fable of the ant and the grasshopper.

If you give a man with a poor-mentality enough money to buy thirty steaks, he'll buy thirty steaks and eat like a king for a month, and then have nothing but a memory of short-term comfort and happiness.  If you give a man with a rich-mentality enough money for thirty steaks, he'll buy chicken, ground beef, four steaks (one a week), a few shares in a mutual fund, and put the rest in an education fund or toward purchasing a rental property.  Building long-term comfort and happiness.

I've confessed to liking to look in people's windows as I drive past houses at night.  I am often amazed at the number of huge flat screen TVs dominating the living rooms of modest cottages.  I don't understand that.  Who needs something that big and expensive, that isn't going to do anything but depreciate?  I have friends who spend every penny they get with no apparent thought of the future.  Two weeks ago I had a small spat with a dear friend over his frittering away a windfall.  You can't have champagne tastes on a beer budget, or pretty soon you won't be able to afford beer (and don't expect me to feel sorry for you when it happens).

---------------------------------

My father was career Air Force, an officer.  He got flight pay beyond his regular salary, but my parents never had any savings to speak of.  The money came in, and the money went out.  After retirement, my mother marveled at other military friends who bought nice retirement houses in nice places.  She didn't understand how they could afford it.

The other folks moved every few years, just as we did, but when they moved, they sold the old house and bought a new one, always at a profit.  My parents always rented.

Renting is easy and convenient, but rent money is lost money.

2609 YouTube thinks I'm weird

Friday, October 1, 2009

Scott Adams, in "Dilbert": There's no reason to waste a creative thinker

on an implementation task.

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I watch clips on YouTube a lot.  I use it like a TIVO, catching TV shows I missed.  I watch cute beastie videos, dance clips, and how-to videos.  Yesterday I watched a subtitled Mongolian movie, "The Story of the Weeping Camel", in nine parts.

You know how when you sign in, YouTube offers a selection of videos "Recommended for You"?

Today's recommendation for me, things that my past viewing history would indicate I would like, is six belly dance videos, and two clips from movies about girls' boarding schools, both of which are scenes of caning.

Huh?

-----------------------------------

Last night I joined the southern Mensa subgroup for dinner at a Thai/Vietnamese restaurant.  There were thirteen at table, some of whom agreed to a photo:

I don't know whose hand that is on my waist.  I hope it's the lady in the blue jacket.  That's my hand on her son's shoulder.  [Later - I peered at the enlarged photo.  It's probably the clasped hands of the guy in the black shirt, just showing through between my waist and arm.  I feel better.]

Tonight I'm going to a Phoenician restaurant in Colonie.  Phoenician?  I hear the beef shawarma "is divine", and the decor is colorful.

2608 Ketsana, from Boston.com

Wednesday, September 30, 2009

Me:  How "good one is in bed" has more to do with the combination
than with any skill.

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Typhoon Ketsana has caused devastating flash floods in the Philippines and Vietnam.  I thought I knew what "flash flood" meant, but when I look at the photos at Boston.com, I realize that I didn't really understand how fast it must have been.  There are people climbing electric wires, clinging in neck-high water to the sides of buildings.  It looks like they had no warning at all.  As to how strong, see the photo above.  Those cars were lifted and thrown before they had enough time to fill and sink.

2607 Hips

Wednesday, September 30, 2009

Letter in Mensa Bulletin: If you take the "id" out of "intimidate",
you get "intimate".

------------------

Some dance videos. Please do watch them.  They are all amazing.

Hula. This literally made me cry:

[http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XFFSe2VLZZ4]
The woman FLOATS!

Tahitian:

[http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8WhN6nlwAts]

Free-form, 7-year-old.  She's very good once she gets going, has apparently no bones (but in my opinion a bit too sexy for one so young):

[http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0yPE1wUDVK8]

2606 Flu shots etc.

 Tuesday, September 29, 2009

Me: Virginity is important only to men who fear comparison.

----------------------------------

I saw "O'  Horten", a Norwegian movie with subtitles, at Proctor's in Schenectady this evening.  It was about a train engineer's retirement.  The trains were his whole life, and the day he is to drive his last route, he misses the train.  From then on, he discovers retirement is what the internet reviewers describe as "a precise, deadpan drama of slapstick existentialism".  I enjoyed it.

For most of the movie I wondered if they had "smell-o-vision".  Horten smoked a pipe, and every time he lit up I could swear I smelled the pipe tobacco.  Later I noticed that the woman next to me was holding a large container of hazelnut Starbucks brew.

----------------------------------

Will someone please explain to me why Roman Polanski is suddenly the victim?  I understand the arguments for and against his extradition.  I understand that the woman doesn't want to get involved.  But this isn't a civil case, where she is allowed to drop it.  It's crimes against the state, and the specific victim can't drop it.  And although she's adult now, at the time she was thirteen years old!  And it's not like she was a Lolita, who welcomed his advances.  Even drugged she said no multiple times, and begged to go home, and he raped her multiple times in one day.

So how the blazes is he now the victim?

----------------------------------

I listened to NPR on the way to Schenectady this evening.  Alan Chartock was interviewing some woman in the health field about the H1N1 virus and immunizations, and an interesting but unpublished Canadian study.  The study found that people who got last year's  seasonal flu shot were more likely to come down with H1N1 than people who didn't get last year's shot.

Weird.

None of the investigators can explain it.  They went on for some time about how everyone is so confused by the statistics.  The woman said that people are making decisions based on the study, a study which a) none of them have read, since it's unpublished, and b) even those who have read it can't understand it.

I don't understand why they don't understand.  It seems pretty simple to me.

Last year's shot was voluntary.  So the people who got it (let's call them Group 1) were those who felt they were most likely to be exposed to seasonal flu by nature of their jobs or contacts, or those who go to their doctors a lot, or those who were at risk because of other chronic illnesses.   People who didn't get the shot (Group 2, which includes me) were those who didn't feel they were likely to catch it, or rarely go to the doctor, or who are very healthy.

So it's reasonable to assume that Group 1 people would be more likely to pick up H1N1 by nature of their jobs or contacts, and more likely to be diagnosed because they see their doctors a lot, or because they get more seriously ill because of pre-existing conditions.   Group 2 people might catch it just as often, but remain undiagnosed as H1N1 because they didn't bother going to the doctor, and were never tested.

I know several people who were very ill over the past few weeks (The Man, a few others), and not one of them were tested for H1N1.  They just suffered and then got better.  They'd be solidly in Group 2, and would show up in the report as not having got last year's shot, and not having caught H1N1.

It's exactly the same problem as with self-selected surveys, where only the people who have something outrageous to say bother to answer, giving skewed results.

The majority of people counted as having H1N1 are those who were and are concerned about the flu enough to get the seasonal shot, and who go to the doctor when they get sick.  The rest simply "didn't answer".  We really don't know about them.  There may be not greater succeptability among those who got last year's seasonal flu shot.  Maybe it just looks that way. 

Making decisions based on this study is akin to making decisions based on a Playboy write-in survey.
.

2605 Plastic expectations

Tuesday, September 29, 2009

Trevanian, Shibumi: “[Consider] the error of the artisan who boasts of

twenty years experience in his craft while in fact he has

only one year of experience - twenty times.”

-------------------------------------------------------

Observation - I have to be very careful when I walk in crowds with an umbrella.  The ends of my spokes are at eye level on most other people.  I wonder, if someone turns suddenly and my spoke hits his eye, would I lose the lawsuit?

-------------------

My daughter will be 34 next month, and I have as yet no grandchildren, and I'm starting to think that's ok.  I'm not sure I'd want a child to have to live up to the next generation's expectations.

Some of us are born with big noses, or small breasts, short legs, or flat or well-rounded behinds, teeth that are naturally less than sparkling white.  The "wrong" eye color or shape, or too high or too low a weight set-point.  Hair of the "wrong" texture or in the "wrong" places on our bodies.  As we grow older, our hair grays, or thins, or disappears altogether, our skin loosens, wrinkles, gets spotty, and that's natural and normal, but suddenly since it's no longer necessary, it's "wrong".

Somehow we've bought into someone else's definitions of "wrong".

With plastic surgery, botox, silicon injections, liposuction, teeth whitening and capping, laser treatments, contact lenses, hormone replacement and augmentation, growth hormones for children who aren't going to be "tall enough", waxing, dying, reshaping, hair removal and implantation, the whole panoply of products and services that Madison Avenue has convinced us we need, it will soon get to the point where a natural person will be accused of "not taking care of" herself or himself.  "With all she could do, why does she walk around looking like that?"  I can foresee people being offended by imperfection.  I can foresee people being shamed into "correction".

It's already normal for girls in their mid to late teens to get breast implants.  It's already normal for young women to expect their men to remove all their fur.  It's already normal for young men to be turned off by female pubic hair - somehow it is has become "unhygienic".  Everybody has to have perfect teeth.  Everybody will soon be expected to have thick long eyelashes.

Where did this attitude come from?  I know who's selling it, and I know why - because they have it to offer and want our money for it.  But why have we bought into it?  What happened to skepticism?   Remember when the fake existed, but the real was vastly preferred over fake, even if it was less perfect?  Remember when we sneered at fake breasts?  And now young women brag about getting them, and it seems like everyone wants them.

I'm afraid that by the time my grandchild grows up, all people would be all plastic, and all look alike (or like one of four prototypes).  There will be great pressure to conform.   Independent spirits who refuse to conform will be ostracized, and since the pressure will be mainly on children, teens, and young adults, resistance would only be at the expense of mental and social health.

But, I suspect the appearance of health will be much more important than actual health.

The latest is drugs to enhance mental abilities and awareness.  Drugs to help one stay awake and alert  longer without subsequent crashes.  Drugs that allow revolving shift work without the drag.  Drugs that improve memory.  Drugs that enhance mental speed and agility.  Right now most are prescription only, and are being used off-label.  But new drugs are being developed every day specifically for those purposes, and pretty soon they'll be available over (or under) the counter.  Advertising will make them seem needed.  You are not doing your best if you don't have them.  You'll have no choice when you're competing for grades, jobs, and opportunities against people who are using them.

I'm afraid my daughter's generation will be the last where natural appearance and abilities are valued.  Mine will be the last where natural aging is accepted.

2604 Science Club American

Monday, September 28, 2009

Trevanian, The Eiger Sanction:  "My admiration for you has found new limits."

I love that!  The best part is that the person to whom you would say it probably won't get it.

---------------------------------------------------

While in the doctor's waiting room last Friday I picked up a Scientific American to peruse.  Jay'd had a subscription, which I had allowed to lapse after  he died, so I hadn't seen a copy in several years.

I was shocked! 

I am aware that everything, it seems, has been "dumbed down"**, but I never expected that the dumbing down of America would extend all the way to Scientific American.  It literally turned my stomach.  I hyperventilated.

S.A. used to be full of chemical and mathematical formulae, diagrams, and facts.  Now it's all puff pieces.  No depth, no detail, nothing esoteric.  It looks like they want to appeal to the people who read People in private, but who will pretend to read S.A. to look smart in public.

I Googled "Scientific American" dumbed and found several people who share my opinion and distress.  The magazine has new owners.  Articles that had once been written by the scientists who did the work are now written by staff writers, with a populist slant.  Welcome to the idiocracy, S.A.

--------------------------------

**I don't like the use of "dumb" to mean "stupid".  "Dumb" means "cannot speak", and has nothing whatsoever to do with intelligence.

2603 Moral questions

Monday, September 28, 2009

My mother (circa 1974): "If the Democrats are in, you get a war.

If the Republicans are in, you get a recession.

The only choice you have in the voting booth is whether you'd prefer to starve or get shot."

Until recently it was pretty true.

 --------------------------------------------

The old Princeton moral questions are turning up again, notably in a PBS lecture, and in an online legal discussion.  I first heard them a good twenty years ago, in a company seminar.  The two questions that you start with go like this:

1. You are driving a trolley car, and your brakes have given out.  You see five men working on the track ahead of you.  (Or in some versions you are standing next to a mechanical switch.)  If the trolley continues on the current path it will hit and kill the five men.  However, there is a side track ahead.  You can switch to that track, and spare the five men.  However, there is one man working on the side track, who would then be killed.
Do you switch to the side track or not, and why?

Almost everyone says they will switch tracks, because sacrificing one man is better than killing five, and they are very sure of their decision. It's rare to get a "no" here.

2.  Same runaway trolley and five workmen, except that you are now standing on a bridge over the track, between the trolley and the men.  Standing next to you is a stranger.  He is a big fat man, and he's leaning over the railing, so far that he is almost off balance.  It would take no more than a tap to send him over.  You can save the five men by pushing the fat man over the railing onto the tracks.  He will get hit and die, but he will also stop or derail the trolley, saving the five men.
Do you push the stranger or not, and why?

The situation is similar, in that it's one death against five.  And yet almost no one will push the stranger, for varied reasons, most of which boil down to having to actually touch him.  It's too overt an act.  It's rare to get a "yes", and most people don't want to associate with anyone who would answer "yes".  They will vociferously defend what they see as the difference between the two situations - "direct responsibility" versus "indirect responsibility".

----------------------
Take a moment to decide what you would do, and why.
----------------------


I'd answer "no" to the first question.  I would not switch tracks.


It's hard to explain, but it's kind of like "who am I to decide that the single man is of less importance than the five?"  Perhaps the one man would be mourned by a widow and six orphans, while all five men would be briefly mourned by only the town prostitutes, bookies, fences, and bartenders.  Who am I to judge the value of a life?  A simple one for five is not a valid comparison.  


Also, I'd figure that Fate had set the scenario up, and Fate had a purpose in mind.  I'd let Fate handle it, without meddling by me.  Besides, it was Fate that put me at the switch, knowing what I would do, so Fate already had it all planned out.


However, in the second scenario, I have to confess I'd be strongly tempted to push the stranger.  Not for any silly one-for-five justification, but out of simple curiosity and yielding to temptation.  As far as Fate is concerned, if the stranger were not meant to die, he'd land on top of the trolley and suffer no more than bruises. I probably wouldn't push him for the same reasons as for the first question.  He's already off balance, and if he were meant to fall he would without my help, but man, the temptation!  I might tap him just to see if that little tap was enough.

The moral of this story:  Don't stand next to me on an overpass.

2602 Rainy Sunday with garlic

Monday, September 28, 2009

We see the world not as it is, but as we are.

---------------------------

The above is so true.  We interpret the world not as it is, but as we expect it to be, which can reveal a lot about a person.  I often wonder if I can trust a person who is suspicious of the motives of others.  But I am very trusting, so knowing intellectually that perhaps I shouldn't trust someone does not result in my not trusting him.  Quite often the opposite, in fact.

-------------------------

I put in my volunteer hour at the Garlic Festival on Sunday.  I had been given a worker parking pass, which got me into the lot directly across from the grounds.  I think next time I'll know better than to use it.  If I'd parked in one of the far lots, I'd have walked only a short way, then taken a shuttle bus to the gates.  But in the "close" lot, I had to walk almost a half mile to the gate, which I wouldn't normally mind, except that it was raining.

There was a steady fine but heavy drizzle all day.  I heard the festival was very crowded on sunny Saturday.  This is the crowd on rainy Sunday:

I wondered why there were straw bales lined up in the middle of the promenade, and then realized that if they were not soaked, they'd have made great seats.

Most of the hundred or more tent booths were food or food related, and someone said all the food was required to use garlic in some way.  I actually saw garlic ice cream, chocolate covered garlic, and jars of garlic honey.  One aisle was all garlic farmers, selling fresh garlic, garlic plant sets, garlic decorated do-dads, and so on.  That aisle was pretty much deserted.  I guess it's all about food, eh?

There were some craft booths, too, and again the garlic theme was required.  Which meant that folks selling jewelry had a few sets of garlic bulb-shaped earrings among their usual wares.  (I suspect they bring back the exact same garlic items year after year.  Admission ticket.)

I bought some inexpensive but nice jewelry (not garlic-related), and a packable sunhat.

2601 UTI and Khosla

Saturday, September 26, 2009

The question Diane Sawyer (interviewed on Oprah) would most like to ask the Pope:

"What do you think Jesus would think of the way you dress?"

--------------------------------

I have a urinary tract infection. This is the second one this year, the third known in the past four years.

I say "known" because I didn't have symptoms for the first two, they were found in a standard physical, so who knows how many symptomless infections I've had in the past. The only symptoms with this one were that strange vitamin B odor in the morning and cloudiness.

I know I'm not overdosing on B, so I looked up urine odor on the internet, found that it can be a symptom of infection, bought some test strips, and checked it out. Positive for both white blood cells and nitrite. Saw the doctor today, got an antibiotic.

------------------------

Going to the doctor's office I was surprised to find the village full of people. I've never seen so many people on the sidewalks. The village has a few street fairs a year, but they've never been so crowded. Good weather, I guess.

------------------------

The movie tonight, in that nice private theater in Valatie, was "Khosla Ka Ghosla", an Indian low-budget film about a middle-class family who, having been cheated out of the father's life savings, mounts a sting operation against a very scary gangster. It was cute, funny, realistic, and you really get to know the characters. I highly recommend it. You can watch it at http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=-732055622465682907#.

It was in Hindi with a smattering of English. I was amused that when the actor said "Oh, shit!", the subtitle said "Oh my God!", and "bastard" became "scoundrel" in the subs.

Driving home, I saw many deer on the side of the road, or crossing in front of me. They're very active now. Soon it will be mating season, and the bucks will lose all sense. Drive carefully.

2600 Fame

Friday, September 25, 2009

From Alex Haley's Queen: It is the great flaw of equality ... that everyone believes that only [he] know[s] what is best for the others.

---------------------------------------------

I saw "Fame" this evening.  The original 1980 version was one of my favorite movies (but still pretty far behind "West Side Story"), so of course I had to see this one.

It was mostly just a talent showcase.  There was a feeble attempt at story, but there just wasn't time to develop anything, especially because there were too many characters to focus on.  There was the angry young man, the pushed young lady, the gingham ingenue, the earnest idealist film fiend, the not-good-enough dancer, the I'm-hot-shit dancer, the hunk, the token Asian, ... durn ... there were so many not well-developed characters I can't remember them all.  But there were at least nine.

The movie was 107 minutes.  Let's throw out 15 minutes for production numbers (and that's on the low side).  That leaves 92 minutes for story.  With nine characters to follow, that's 10 minutes each.  The movie covers four years of school, so that's 2.5 minutes per character per year.  Not enough.  Sorry.

We know I have a problem with suspension of disbelief.  It bothered me that at the beginning the kids were starting ninth grade.  That makes them 15 at most, right? Even if they're all made up, they still carry themselves like 15-year-olds.  These kids looked 18 at the very least, and didn't change at all (except for the ingenue) over the next four years.

Can't say much for the singing (I wanted to tell the kids to LET IT OUT!), but they had some great tap dancers.

--------------------------------

Kelsey Grammer and Bebe Neuwirth were teachers.  Casting directors should avoid casting actors familiar to audiences as already having a long-term fictional relationship.  I could have accepted either of them alone as a teacher, but together I kept thinking of "Cheers" and "Frasier".
.

2599 Bits

Friday, September 25, 2009

Me: A full-figured woman has an extravagant body.

Who doesn't appreciate extravagance?  Misers.  That's who.

And who wants them?

----------------------------------------

"Good Morning America" had an interesting juxtaposition of story intros this morning.  First they mentioned they'd be doing a story on Mackenzie Phillips' reports of molestation by her father, with a clip of her talking. That was followed immediately by a description of a story about a boy who had to wear a brace for a hip problem, illustrated by a clip of a boy bent over the side of a bed with a man holding him down with one hand on the small of his back and the other hand pulling his leg aside.

The mental jump before realizing that the man was a physical therapist was unavoidable.

--------------------

If you happen to get arrested and booked for a misdemeanor, like trespassing or petty theft, in Orange County, Calif., you can go to court, incurring a few thousand in legal fees and/or fines, or you can pay $75, give a DNA sample, and walk away like nothing ever happened. The case will be dropped.

This article explains the rationale.

Civil liberties advocates and defense attorneys say the plan would incentivize prosecutors to pressure people who have not been convicted of any crime to give the government a DNA sample. This “troubles me because I do not think that we yet have adequate safeguards to protect privacy,” said Erwin Chemerinsky, the dean of the law school at UC Irvine.

“It’s completely voluntary, so no one has to do this,” said a district attorney spokeswoman. “There’s consequences when you commit a crime. This is actually a better option for them than other avenues of, I guess, going through the penal process.”

I don't like it.  It sounds like extortion, pure and simple.  I give you $75 and a DNA sample, or else you will punish me by ruining my good name and costing me a lot of money, for something you're willing to drop anyway?  Why do I associate this with those traffic traps small southern towns are notorious for?

I want to know 1) if some of these cases would never have been pursued  anyway, but the arrestee is not told that, and 2) if arrests for misdemeanors is way up in Orange county, and 3) how many of those arrests are real, and how many are just because the person looks gullible.

--------------------

I'm getting tired of people making fun of the Segway.  What's so wrong with it?

--------------------

Something creepy has happened.  My internet connection is DSL Broadband, through Verizon.  I'm paying for 3Mps.  Some days I get that.  But other days it's very slow - as bad as when I had ordinary phone line dialup.  The past week it has been abysmal.  Even short video clips take forever to load. Streaming video is impossible.

So I Googled "verizon broadband slow", and found a few forums.  The consensus is that Verizon will not admit it's their problem, and it's difficult to prove it is.

Anyway, since reading the reports of others, and finding a plan of attack, all of a sudden today it's fast again.

That's creepy.  Like Verizon knows I'm getting pissed.

-----------------------------

Dinner and movie, "Fame", in Albany tonight.
.

2598 You can't share an experience

Thursday, September 24, 2009

Me: There is negative perfectionism and positive perfectionism.

Negative perfectionism is based on a fear of inadequacy.

Positive perfectionism strives for mastery.

-----------------------------------------

I was building more draft posts with the green quotes, and I came across this one, from Diane Vaughn, from her book Uncoupling:

This experience is shared by every person who travels to a foreign country.... Difference, not distance, is the critical factor. Returning, the traveler evaluates the familiar with a newly acquired comparative ability. The result is often a disease [in the dis-ease sense], a sense of lack of fit, because the traveler has had an experience the others haven't. The traveler can perhaps describe it, but as an experience it is unshareable because it has changed the traveler in ways not obvious to the others, and describing it will not similarly change the others.

Actually, that's true of all experiences.  True of travel to a foreign culture, but also of travel through life.

You can tell someone about something that happened to you, but no matter what it was, no matter how fully you describe the experience and its effects, no matter how common the experience is, no one else will ever fully understand.  The other may have had a similar experience, and felt similar feelings, but the context is always different.

They will never fully understand.  They will never understand how it changed you.

2597 Phone calls are rarely good.

Thursday, September 24, 2009

Andy Rooney: If there is life on other planets,

they probably won't believe that Jesus Christ is the son of God.

------------------------------

It's warm outside today, almost 80, and getting warm in the house.  This weekend we're supposed to get frost at night.  It's no wonder everyone is getting sick.

The Man says he's got it, something, flu perhaps. Taking Tylenol Severe. 

I was a little worried that I'd been tempting fate, exposing myself to strange germs, by going to so many dinners and movies with relative strangers, but so far I've had only an off and on slightly sore throat.  I guess so much exposure to germs and filth in my house builds the immune system.  (Crossing fingers.)

I had volunteered to work four hours in the tourism booth at the Saugerties garlic festival next Sunday.  I just got a call that I am to work only from 1 to 2 pm.  Duh?  I'm to take the volunteer sign-in book when I leave, so I guess a county employee will be taking over at 2. 

That bugs me, because I'll be driving almost two hours to volunteer for one hour.  Don't know why they couldn't extend the earlier volunteer an hour, or have the employee come in earlier.  I am annoyed.  There are other things I could do with a Sunday afternoon.  Maybe I should have spoken up, but the woman who does the scheduling is elderly, gets confused easily, and if you get her started she'll natter on forever.

Bah.  The only good thing about it is that garlic is supposed to protect against viral infection.

2596 Super Sites

Wednesday, September 23, 2009

Me: SpellCheck programs may ensure that the word is spelled correctly,

but it doesn't ensure that you used the right word.

---------------------------------

Mensa polled members for super interesting, informative, useful, or fun websites, then winnowed the list down to the top 50, results here.

2595 Changes

Wednesday, September 23, 2009

Andy Rooney:  "Computers may make it easier to write, 

but they don't make the writing any better."

--------------------------------

PlayList has upgraded, and I can now set the music (the pink box over there on the left) so it doesn't start up automatically.  Yea team!

 

And Blogger has a new editor, so if things look funny for a while, it's because I'm in a learning curve. 

Ok.  Blogger is adding too many blank lines between  paragraphs, and adds more every time I edit the post. Seems to be "span" happy.   How do I make it more WYSIWYG?

2594 Of brakes and faces

Tuesday, September 22, 2009

A lot of men consider rape merely assault with a friendly weapon.

-----------------------------

Two years ago I wrote a blog entry titled "Why Blogs Die". I reread it yesterday. It was pretty good. Check it out.

------------------------

Monday the 14th, when Suzie got her paws realigned in New Jersey, the guys in the shop there told me that her brakes had not been something-or-othered properly. They said something about something needing grinding or something. Yeah, I wondered, because they'd been squealing badly for about two weeks. They said if I didn't get it fixed, it would wear something down quickly.

I'd gotten new pads and rotors in July at a Monroe up here, so yesterday I took Suzie back there and asked them to take a look. They insist everything is fine. The squealing is just dirt or dust in there and it'll go away. (Of course, if it wasn't fine, they'd have to fix it.)

They're still squealing. Maybe I should take her another place and get another independent checkup? I'd hate to have her paw pads suddenly go slick just as she's about to pounce on a Spyder.

(The Man drives a black Mitsubishi Eclipse Spyder convertible, named Widow. Suzie loves to chase her. If Suzie ever accidentally caught the beloved spit-shined black Widow, well, I don't want to think about it.)

--------------------------

I spent much of yesterday and today playing with the video clips from the Sunday afternoon at the rehearsal studio. I discovered I have Windows Movie Maker on my laptop (who knew!), and that YouTube has a "private" designation, where nobody can see the clips unless I send them the secret URL in an email. They can't be embedded, and they can't go viral because they are limited to 25 unique viewers. Cool.

So I sent them (all 10) to The Man, and a smaller sample to Sister and Daughter.

--------------------------

You know, sometimes I think I have angered The Man. I said something to him during my explosion the last time I saw him, about making him angry when I ask certain questions, and he didn't understand what I meant, swore he didn't get angry. Looking at the videos, I think I see the problem. When his face is relaxed, or when he's thoughtful, his natural expression looks angry.

I think I sensed that long ago. He'd said something about strangers in casual contacts tensing around him, and I told him it was because he looks powerful and dangerous.

It's not just his face, it's the way he moves - like a coiled spring.

I know my relaxed expression looks angry, too. Something about the eyebrows and eyelids, and the corners of my mouth. So I make a conscious effort to keep my eyebrows and cheeks lifted and crinkle the corners of my eyes when talking with people - ever since Daughter was small and cried because she thought I was always angry, when I was really just relaxed.

------------------------

Tonight I saw the movie "Love Happens" in Albany. I thought it was pretty good, but others didn't like it. I guess they were expecting more of a comedic cat and mouse love story, but it was really about a man dealing with unresolved feelings about the death of his wife. My comment was that I guess how you'd react to it has to do with what's going on in your own life.

-------------------------

I got the call today from the doctor's office about last Friday's thyroid check. It's ok, so I'll be staying on the minimal supplement.
.

2593 Cats and guys

Sunday, September 20, 2009

Woman describing how one does not realize how final death is:
“And then I found I was waiting for him to come home.
He'd been dead long enough now, it was time for him to come home.”

About a year after Jay died, I found that I was waiting for him to come home.

--------------------------

Last summer, 2008, I worked on a project with a Mensan I'd never met before. He's a member of the Southern Columbia subgroup. He was very quiet, but I noticed the flicker of expressions on his face, and was amused that he noticed the same things I did, and seemed to react in the same way. That always attracts me. The first time I met The Man, we were sitting opposite each other at a large round table, and I was amused by and attracted to the flickers on his face.

I've since seen this guy, I'll call him Blue, about once or twice a month at dinners and hikes. I'm impressed that he is so nice, pleasant, and, rare in Mensans, he's sensible, reasonable, listens to others.

Well, there's something growing. I have not been encouraging anything - I don't sit near him or (consciously) flirt - but he brightens when I walk in the door.

Blue was at the trivia dinner earlier this month. We sat in different booths, on different teams, but back-to-back, so we kibitzed a lot over the divider. At the end of the evening, all 11 left together, and stood in the street chatting for a few minutes, and then people peeled off to head for their cars. I was parked up the street, he was down the street. When I started walking to my car, he followed me. I turned and said, "Your car is over there, isn't it?", and he said yes and kept walking toward me, smiling and raising his arms out slightly.

You know how you know when something is being signaled, and you respond to the signal without thinking about it?

So I automatically stepped into his arms for the hug. Mensans hug a lot anyway, but Mensan hugs don't usually involve full arm wraps and cheek pressing, and rarely last more than three seconds. It felt like he didn't want to let go.

It bothered me all the way home, and has bothered me since. I'm debating not going to any more So. Columbia events for a while, but hey, I like that group. And darn it, I like him. I just don't want things to get awkward.

He's married. I don't fool around with married men. I don't even imply I might. There lies nothing but heartbreak, and besides, their wives are always bigger and more drama-prone than me.

(Spouses rarely attend Mensa events. They're always welcome, but mostly they choose not to unless they are also members. So I haven't met Mrs. Blue.)

On another front, there was a man at the other end of the table at Friday's Albany dinner. He sent me an email later that evening saying that he hoped we'd sit closer next time so we could talk more.

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I can easily leave Miss Thunderfoot and Jasper alone for up to three days, with dry food, plenty of water, and their litter boxes. But if it's more than overnight I have to separate them. Otherwise Jasper will eat all of Miss Thunderfoot's food, and will terrorize her.

It's easy in my house. There's a door between the livingroom and the bedroom wing hallway. Jasper gets the LR, kitchen, laundry room, and DR. Miss Thunderfoot gets the bedrooms, den, and bathrooms.

I've found that when I return home, if they were separated, the two cats seem to be angry with each other for a few days. I thought it was just that they missed me and were jealous of my time. Now I wonder....

I wonder if they realize I'm gone. If I don't shut them in their own part of the house, they can search for me and know I'm not home, I'm not with the other cat. But when half the house is not available, I wonder if each of them thinks I'm holed up with the other, beyond that closed door, and the other cat is getting all the petting. I wonder if they're jealous.

And that's the other reason I don't play with married men.
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2592 The weekend

Sunday, September 20, 2009

Les Kamm, letter in the Mensa Bulletin: “Progress ... is not the result of individual accomplishments, but the product of a vast human consciousness that contains ... a perception of purpose, potential, and need. ...[The] contributions of any single person is not substance, but style.”

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The Albany restaurant for Friday night's dinner is associated with the place in Saugerties (Ric Orlando), but the food was much better. I started with calamari, and they were perfect. My entree was a daily special - pork loin on a bed of spinach and sweet potatoes. There were two pieces of meat, both as large as my hand and 1.5 inches thick. Ridiculous! Two more days of doggie bag. It was all very good.

The problem I have with the Saugerties New Home restaurant is that everything tastes the same. There's some herb or spice they put in everything, from pizza to green beans to onion soup. Yuck.

I thought it was rather expensive, though. My tab came to $45 before tax and tip. They could have given me half the food for 3/5 the price and I would have been happier.

Yesterday I went to Angie's house. She had a bunch of people over for a lobster feast. Her sister-in-law is from the Philippines, so there was a lot of Filipino yummies, too. I fell in love with something called Siopao (show-POW) - balls of soft sweet dough stuffed with shredded seasoned pork, steamed to plumpness.

After the feast, Angie and Nat wanted me to try the trampoline. Are you kidding? I've never been on a trampoline, so I'd have loved to try it, but not after overeating!

After Angie's I went to see "The Informant" in Albany. I'd read the WSJ law blog article on the story, and followed the links, and had heard the NPR interviews with the ADM exec and the FBI agents, so I was able to read into and fill in the blanks in the movie. So I thought it was pretty good. I don't know how satisfying it would be if one did not already know the details that aren't shown in the movie.

Movies seem short these days. Like there's so much of the story that has to be left out to keep the bread-and-circus crowd interested. God forbid they should run out of food before the movie is over.

This morning I took some old electronic devices to recycle - some old phones, dead printers, and so on. There was an 18-year-old under-desk IBM PC CPU, which I thought was heavy until I tried to lift the old VCR. It must have been the first model. Huge, deep, heavy! Had to be well over 50 pounds. It was on the top shelf in the den closet, and I managed to get it down, wrestled it to the door, opened and closed the front door with it supported on my thighs, started across the porch, and was pulled up short. The cord had been trailing behind me and the plug got stuck under the closed door.

Until then I'd been doing fine, but now I had to set it down to free the cord. Picking it up from the floor again was A Bad Thing.

I had planned to go to the gem and mineral show at the fairgrounds today, which was right next to where the county was collecting the old devices, but I got so sweaty and dusty clearing out the den, and I was getting warning shocks down my left leg from my overtaxed back, that I decided it would be better to go back home and soak in a hot bath.

I think I'll live.
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