Indiana


5
Jan 17

Without a doubt, irrefutably: snow

Woke up to snow. Watched it, off and on, fall all day. Little flakes, big flakes, sticky flakes. Here’s some shots from the office:

Classes start back next Monday. People are starting to trickle back into the building, the ones that aren’t sick with something anyway. There’s a lot of that going around, which has been the case since before Thanksgiving. This is a new old building, one side of which you see at the beginning of the video, but it might be out to get us, in a biological sense.

But the snow! Isn’t it lovely! Tonight it will actually get cold. Tomorrow we’ll be between 0 and 5 degrees and wearing heavy jackets. But, today, the snow is full of that magic that wipes away doubt and impossibility and dirt and the decay of autumn. Tomorrow, or the next day, the snow will be its own doubt and dirt.

I canceled my XM subscription today. Two representatives tried very hard to upgrade me or reduce my bill or extend me this or offer me that. But I just don’t spend that much time in the car right now and the reception to their transponders is blocked on about 20 percent of my route. The quality has been in decline ever since the Sirius-XM merger, while the price has almost doubled.

I really only listened to the 40s station anyway.

We’re watching West Wing, about 15 years too late.

I feel like, after tonight’s episodes, that we might have already watched the best part of the show. But last night we were here:

Tonight we got here:

And I think I see what everyone likes about the Charlie character. He’s not a bad character, but I think this is about first impressions — and binge watching. When you met him he was that young kid, who thought he was there to be a messenger. And then you learned his backstory, which was heartbreaking and then he was frozen in amber. He’s a humble sort, but never in over his head. And so he became the precocious child of the show, even as a young adult.

It probably hurt him, then, that he’s in a room surrounded by talented, accomplished people and has a paternalistic lead. Now, it is supposed to be four years later. But, really, for us, it has been just a few months. He’s still that boy, still precocious, which isn’t fair to the character. He’s not a boy, we haven’t allowed for that evolution with time.

Some things about binge watching are antithetical to character evolution.

Would you rather we discussed books?

If you like sports, or baseball, or books about sports, or just good research and writing, I’d suggest Bottom of the 33rd. It is about the longest game in the history of organized baseball, a Triple-A struggle in Massachusetts in 1981.

It featured Easter, 40-degree temperatures, Wade Boggs, Cal Ripken Jr., Bruce Hurst and maybe the best hitter you’ve never heard of. The book covers two clubs, owners, communities, broadcasters, managers … it is difficult to imagine how did not get included, so complete is the research.

The writing is incredibly crisp. I don’t read a lot of sports books, but this was written by a New York Times columnist and it shows in his love of the craft.

I’m also about halfway through The Adventure of English. This is the companion book to a BBC series on the language, told as a biography, almost of a living person.

It’s a slog, but its a good read. You have to really want it, I think, really appreciate the power of language to find this book interesting. It’s poetic in places, and it is as dense as a technical manual in others. Halfway through, though, and Shakespeare just retired and the study of the language has moved to the Pilgrims, landing months late and at the wrong spot, and the meeting, either by “chance or through God’s providence,” with Squanto.

Tisquantum, you might recall, helped the pillaging Pilgrims survive that first harsh winter. He was perhaps the only English-speaking native for hundreds of miles around, and arguably the most fluent English speaker on the continent. How fortunate for them that he was in the next village from where they came ashore. Now, the book is moving into the American Colonial period. I just learned that of the 13 colonies only two were derived from native terms. Connecticut, for example, stems from Quinnehtukqut, which the Internet tells me means “beside the long tidal river.”

I think the best part of the book is that, while it is talking about the power of the language to evolve, it stops in 2011. So some of these words from the 2011 additions to the OED may be in there, but surely not all of them, surely not the word “posilutely.”


13
Dec 16

Winter is here

Not to worry, we’ve stocked up on all of the important French Toast making ingredients.

We go now to our reporter in the field, Ernie Pyle, tell us how it is looking from where you are:

We got a quarter-of-an-inch of snow today. The record for the day, according to the National Weather Service, was three-quarters of an inch, in 2000. Ernie’s statue was not there on that day for a comparison photo.


11
Sep 16

Barns and corn and lakes and hills, all in one ride

We rode 40 miles today. This includes five significant hills and my ride falling apart about midway through for no reason whatsoever. But the company was, of course, lovely:

And the scenery was nice. Say this about this place, if you can get in a few dozen miles you can see plenty of different scenery. For example:


2
Aug 16

Revolutionary canvas and defying physics

On the loading dock today was this large canvas roller. These things intrigue me to no end, even as I know I will likely never have a real use for them myself. But that’s the way of it. Great logo, too:

Dandux is a product of C.R. Daniels, Inc. That company started out in New York City, but was purchased by the Trumpbour brothers soon after, in 1920. They moved to New Jersey, and now also have two custom facilities in Tennessee and Maryland, where this particular roller was produced. The second generation Trumpbour men at Daniels have passed away in recent years and you can find their obits online. They both had military service, which continues a long tradition in their family. Apparently eight of their Trumpbour ancestors fought in the Revolutionary War.

Favorite tidbit, Edward Trumpbour Jr. did not suffer mediocrity, “or as he would say ‘Meatballs.'”

Let’s find out about those 18th century Trumpbours … seems they were of Dutch descent. And at least some of them were enlisted in New York’s Ulster regiments as Tories. Two of the men from that era died in Canada in the 1800s, which is where a lot of Loyalists found themselves during and after the Revolution. Maybe we’re too far removed, in the sense of family history, to talk about the brother-against-brother aspect of that war, but here, it seems, we might have an example of it.

Anyway, their great-great-great-and-so-on grandchildren are still here.

We rode our bikes, where I thought nothing of Trumpbours or ducks or canvas or any other thing. If you chase fast people like The Yankee you don’t have time to think:

I took a bunch of pictures of her on this stretch of the bike ride, one of the few places I could pull alongside. But she kept outrunning my focus, which was weird. She wasn’t approaching the speed of light, but she was somehow defeating it nevertheless.

I did improve on a half-mile climb by four seconds. The cycling app says I presently have the third-fastest time up that climb for the year, which can only mean that most people don’t ride all the way down to the boat ramp and then back up. There’s no way my pitifully slow time should be on a leaderboard.


4
Jul 16

Happy Fourth

On Saturday we took a long ride. We went through downtown, alongside a creek, through a park, on roads that start with the word “Old” and to a town in the next county above us. Also, we went directly by the local driving school which seemed a dodgy proposition after you thought about it a bit. This was a 56-mile ride where we climbed 2,600 feet or 1,800, depending on which app you like.

I’ve grown skeptical of all of them, though. I think I’m going much faster than their speeds would suggest, he said, while elevating his chin and using a sidelong stare to indicate he’s joking and he’s actually quite slow on a bicycle.

We went by this on our ride. You wonder what all has been stored in there over the years, and how many kids climbed over all that stuff, and what they thought about it:

I always loved places like that as a kid. Oh, I could go climb over it now. But I’d hurt myself. And I’d be “trespassing.”

Whatever, lawman.

I think about the most random things when I am riding or running. I tell stories to myself and make up great jokes to write down and I forget all most all of them soon after. Most of them were brilliant, though. Except for my forgetfulness, which is probably just brought on by being out of breath as I ride.

Like this, I took a picture of this sign and car lot for some reason. It was hilarious in my mind. And if I could tell you the joke you’d think it was mildly amusing, too. But that was Saturday and this is Monday and I have forgotten it already:

Just look at all of those bargains!

What do you figure the point of that one part of the fire department is:

If you built that just to have the longest fireman pole slide in three counties … well, that would seem odd. And I didn’t notice it as I pedaled by — it was uphill, mind you — but that looks sort of like a watch platform or a diving board or something on the top. or perhaps it is the world’s most optimistic rain break.

Nothing fancy for the Fourth this year. It just felt like a good day to stay in. We celebrated with a patriotic and colorful dessert:

So that’ll go in the archive, which has grown quite historic. And large: