links


5
Jan 12

Free political, visual advice

I noted on Twitter that it should be no surprise that a soap called “Dancing Waters” from Bath & Body Works doesn’t remove chain grease. Someone observed that is “kind of like saying the aromatherapy candles don’t get rid of the exhaust smell from your Harley.”

Great line, but only because he’s never heard of the exceptionally strong soy scented candles.

The Internet can’t describe the smell, which is a failure of the human olfactory cortex — linked to the hippocampus, but not to the thalamus.

The U.S. broadcast media says “SOPA? What’s that?

Controversial legislation that the co-founder of Google has warned “would put us on a par with the most oppressive nations in the world” has received virtually no coverage from major American television news outlets during their evening newscasts and opinion programming. The parent companies of most of these networks, as well as two of the networks themselves, are listed as official “supporters” of this legislation on the U.S. House of Representatives’ website.

As the Stop Online Piracy Act (SOPA) makes its way through Congress, most major television news outlets — MSNBC, Fox News, ABC, CBS, and NBC — have ignored the bill during their evening broadcasts. One network, CNN, devoted a single evening segment to it.

I get it. They have corporate bosses who have bosses who have properties that think this will protect them. Also, broadcasters aren’t carrying a torch for online entities — since they are so often being torched by online entities. (Though Poynter is finally telling journalists they should be concerned about all this. How any advocate of the First Amendment could read this legislation and not be troubled is beyond me.) We’re moving a significant way down the slippery slope.

God bless America, we need the help.

Speaking of politics, Dale Peterson is back. Remember this guy?

His wife is now running for office. Or, as he says, is “after the republican nomination …”

It isn’t the rifle, or even the pace of the thing, but the air quotes. They’re just reaching out of your monitor, trying to drag you to your polling place … it is an unsettling gesture. If you must do air quotes on video, do them parallel to your ears.


4
Jan 12

4,231 > 17

We’ve been trying to have doughnuts for breakfast since Sunday. But that was New Year’s Day, and so our local doughnut shop was closed. Monday? Closed for New Year’s Hangover, I suppose. Yesterday we had a real breakfast. Today we made it happen.

After the sugar kicked in and moved on — and after having made it through the morning edition of email, text messages and RSS reading — we decided for a light ride. Would have ridden yesterday, but it was too cold. Today it was just right, a light chill in the shade and a good breeze to keep the temperature right when you started working a bit.

Not that there’s a lot of that when you haven’t been on the bike in weeks, another victim of the holidays.

On Monday, though, I installed the new computers on our bikes. Now we’ll now just how bad at this we are! (Hint: Bad.)

The Yankee had two flats. It was one of those days.

At one point I was tucked in behind her, but went around because the time was right. We were about to hit a stretch where I perform slightly better than she does. There was a car coming, which is not where I want to be putting brakes to wheels. So I kicked.

And for one glorious, brief, sprinting, downhill, mass-forward, aerodynamically-tucked moment, I hit 37.6 miles per hour. If I could keep up that pace for 4,231 I might have been competitive in the 1987 Tour de France. The race has gotten a bit faster since then.

But I only rode 17 miles today, clearly there’s some work to be done. But that’s what tomorrow is for.

We made dinner to the Beatles, ate over the bowl game.

Somewhere along the way we put away clothes that will be donated. We ordered four pictures for over the fireplace. I found a new water filter for the refrigerator. It was a perfectly low key evening.

Finally answered one of the many nagging questions of my faulty childhood memory. It was a Woolco. The town I grew up in had a Zayre’s and one of the W stores in what I think of as the place’s two original strip malls. I could never recall if it was a Woolworth or a Woolco, though. Woolworth, you might remember, was one of the original American five-and-dime stores. They slipped in the 1980s and disappeared entirely in 1997. (Now their existing properties are the struggling Foot Locker entities.

Woolco, on the other hand, was their discount store. Think about that: the discount of store of a five-and-dime shop. I don’t remember much about it, I couldn’t even remember which name the store had. Woolco died in 1982, so I guess that’s when that store went away. Soon after Wal-Mart moved into that spot.

Not too much longer after that the Zayre’s down the street shut their doors. K-Mart went in there.

After a few years Wal-Mart moved three miles down the road to the interstate and a new Supercenter. There’s a Big Lots where the Wal-Mart and Woolco once operated. A thrift store occupies the place that used to run as Zayre’s and then K-Mart. That entire part of that town has dried up. What was once upon a time the longest lit road east of the Rocky Mountains and, prior to the Great Depression, was intended as the nation’s first freeway is a husk of itself.

For years, though, I’ve wondered: was that a Woolworth or a Woolco?

These are the questions that occupy a preoccupied mind. This all came about because of an essay I read about Best Buy:

Electronics retailer Best Buy is headed for the exits. I can’t say when exactly, but my guess is that it’s only a matter of time, maybe a few more years.

Consider a few key metrics. Despite the disappearance of competitors including Circuit City, the company is losing market share. Its last earnings announcement disappointed investors. In 2011, the company’s stock has lost 40% of its value. Forward P/E is a mere 6.23 (industry average is 10.20). Its market cap down to less than $9 billion. Its average analyst rating, according to The Street.com, is a B-.

Those are just some of the numbers, and they don’t look good. They bear out a prediction in March from the Wall Street Journal’s Heard on the Street column, which forecast “the worst is yet to come” for Best Buy investors. With the flop of 3D televisions and the expansion of Apple’s own retail locations, there was no killer product on the horizon that would lift it from the doldrums. Though the company accounts for almost a third of all U.S. consumer electronics purchases, analysts noted, the company remains a ripe target for more nimble competitors.

But the numbers only scratch the surface. To discover the real reasons behind the company’s decline, just take this simple test. Walk into one of the company’s retail locations or shop online. And try, really try, not to lose your temper.

The store goes on, sounding much like Circuit City and Service Merchandise and many others before it. The piece also included a Wikipedia list of defunct American stores that started between the 1920s and 1950s and now out of business, either consolidated, liquidated or folded. It is a great list for nostalgia.

The only thing I remember buying at that store is maybe some superhero-themed clothing. I wanted a digital watch, I remember distinctly, but my parents wouldn’t buy it for me. I needed to learn the analog watch first, they said. It was a good lesson.

I almost never misread my watch today.

The clock display on my bike’s new computer? Digital in every way.


29
Dec 11

The best tomato pie of your life

We visited Pepe’s. And, no, this is not becoming a food blog. But Pepe’s is Pepe’s. Here’s the old man on the cover of the menu:

Frank Pepe

But what can you tell about a man from line art? Oh, his pixels are lovely. Mr. Pepe’s actual photograph.

And, no, food photography is difficult, not my strong suit and never works on a cell phone, but this pizza can’t be ignored:

Frank Pepe

Pepe started his first store 86 years ago and, some argue, it is the origin of pizza in the U.S. Who knows? Truly it is the best pizza you’ve ever had. This is not opinion or left to taste, but rather a fact. It is science and we must accept it.

The place is owned by Pepe’s grandson today. We go there every time we visit the in-laws. Ronald Reagan loved it, too. That was back when Connecticut was a GOP stronghold. The Republicans had won Connecticut in eight of 11 presidential post-war elections, only John Kennedy, Lyndon Johnson and Barry Goldwater could break their grip. That led up to Bill Clinton, who also enjoyed Pepe’s.

Connecticut has gone Democrat in the last five elections since 1992. Clearly the pizza is the key.

More of their historic photographs are here.

In New Haven, where Pepe’s started, pizza is one of those cultural touchstones that says much about the diner. You’re a Pepe’s fan or a Sally’s person. The competing pizza place was actually founded by Pepe’s nephew in 1938. Sally’s Apizza is no good. As I wrote in 2007, the long wait outside in the cold and the long wait inside aren’t worth considering:

The waiter, who’s doing you a favor by being there, just got off his bike apparently and is still wearing his Harley vest. He finally gets your order, promptly brings the drinks and disappears for 20 minutes. He returns to ask about your order, which he’s incorrectly scribbled. How one pizza becomes three I’ve yet to figure out. Half-an-hour later, when you finally make eye contact with the waiter (who’s doing you a favor) you inquire as to the whereabouts of the pizza.

“We’re on a 90 minute wait,” he sneers while stalking off. Truly, the last half of the sentence is spoken with his back turned. We speculate the wait just grew to 100 minutes. At 75 minutes you consider calling Information to get the number to the nearest Domino’s and order a delivery. At 90 minutes you actually make eye contact with the waiter again (who’s doing you a favor) and get a simple refill.

Throughout this time as people peer into the windows to gauge how busy the little place is you wave them off. “Don’t do it! It isn’t worth it!”

At 100 minutes, as speculated, the pizza arrives.

And it isn’t worth it. The pizza is OK. It is not 100 minute pizza. If such a thing exists you will not find it here. Instead you’ll get a burnt crust and charcoal on your fingers.

Eight minutes later the pizza is gone, because everyone at your table was famished. Ninety-three seconds after that your bill arrives. Sixteen seconds after that you throw the money on the table. The exact change. To the penny. In pennies. Under the pizza tray.

So that’s Sally’s. Pepe’s, meanwhile, made the Guardian‘s best food in the world list.

That’s one down on that list. Forty-nine to go. Lists like that are dangerous for completists. When are you ever going to be in Lisbon, to eat supposedly the world’s best custard tart?

I received a copy of 1,000 Places To See Before You Die a few years ago from a dear friend who decided she wanted to give me angst via the written word. How can I accomplish this? And now I see there are apparently annual editions.

Great. One of my most recent achievements has been removed for the list in favor of some Mongolian Milk trailer 100 yards off the Great Wall of China that is operated by a talented group of tap dancing, orphan entrepreneurs.

She signed the book (which I have lately decided is the best part of receiving a book as a gift):

The woods are lovely, dark and deep.
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.

I have visited 30 of the 1,000 sites listed in my copy. (Yes, I’ve counted.) Miles to go, indeed.

Robert Frost knew what he was talking about.

He died in 1963, in Boston. I wonder, did he ever have Pepe’s?


28
Dec 11

On diners and Twain

Ask any photographer and they’ll tell you, in a series of bad photographs a picture of a sign is an egregious sin.

But still, I had to show you this, just to prove it. (Pay no attention to the four clashing fonts.)

Tom Sawyer

That’s a New Jersey diner named after a Missouri literary character. Only in America — one hopes.

The important concept here is that there aren’t a lot of true diners in our part of the world. The Yankee, being a Yankee, misses them. We saw this one while out running errands today and decided to stop in.

Not like any diner I know, but a nice joint. Here’s their site which has that tortured, flash template feel. This is the website equivalent of over-produced pop music. In the photo gallery I found some faces we saw in the diner today, not all of them even of the staff.

The place gets decent reviews, 3.5 stars from Yelp and is well respected by whomever writes Trip Advisor, where they call it the best diner in the area and one of the best in the state. They say it was destroyed by fire and recently rebuilt, which explains the new feel of a family-owned business dating to 1974.

It does not explain why everyone was wearing ties. Or how her tie got in our waitress’ way of returning to the table.

The uptown feel and the carefully designed staff uniforms don’t scream diner to me, but everyone has images in their head. Mine is not very good. I started describing what I pictured as a diner: white, chrome and bright, but not necessarily clean. Narrow and long.

As I was describing this I realized I was talking about the old Tiger Time. And then I grew a bit sad. The place was removed and replaced by an unsuccessful string of uninspired things that have failed one after the other. At this point I’m not even sure what is even in that location.

So we just left it with the world needs more diners, no matter where their names come from.

Oh. This morning my father-in-law told his daughter: I watched television on my iPad! He’d downloaded his cable system’s app and was streaming the Today show. He’s a natural.

Until two years ago he’d vigorously defended against ever even owning a cell phone. Look at him now.


7
Dec 11

Reload early, reload often

More grading. All day, it seems.

This is downtown Homewood, late in the evening. Had dinner on the southside with a college buddy. This was part of the drive afterward:

Homewood

Normally this road isn’t so empty, but Homewood rolls up the sidewalks by 9 p.m., even during the Christmas season.

A wide version of this is now one of the rotating footers at the bottom of this page. There are now 17 of those. The bottom of the page has to catch up, though. There are 38 images in the header. Reload often!

More grading tomorrow, and the last class of the semester.

Pearl Harbor links. One of my uncles, if I am remembering this story correctly, was at Pearl Harbor soon after the attacks. This is him, a few years ago:

R.C.

Here’s a story from yesterday about some young local boys who rotated through there in 1943 on their way to the Pacific front.

Every now and then I tell a story about something like this, because it astounds me that a lot of these people were my students age. Like these kids, who happened to be in Hawai’i to play football when the Japanese flew in. That’s a great read. And it is hard to imagine those could be my students.

Historic Page Ones.