Monday


23
May 11

I’m sore

This is that day-after feeling. It is no fun. The chair is better than the sofa. Sitting still is better than moving. Reading is about all I’m up for today.

This has been my favorite piece.

I just stare across the table at this polite 62-year-old man, his hair neatly combed, his face covered by a beard he hopes will allow him a measure of anonymity. Well, I stare at two different people, both of whom have made an appearance in the first two minutes.

There is Harvey Updyke, a remorseful grandfather who claims he didn’t poison those trees and wishes he’d never called a radio show to take credit for it.

And there’s Al from Dadeville — Updyke’s radio nom de guerre — who loves Alabama football, and, if he’s being totally honest, doesn’t understand why everybody’s so damn mad.

[…]

“Well, I’m just a very unhealthy Alabama fan,” he says. “I live it. I breathe it. I think about Alabama football, I’m not exaggerating, 18 hours a day. I have always been that way. It just didn’t start. That’s what people don’t understand. The first thing I do when I wake up in the morning is get on Tiderinsider and see what’s going on. I mean, I know it’s not healthy. I’ve been knowing that a long time. I have a daughter 33 years old named Crimson Tyde.”

If the judge in Updyke’s case lets drivel like this in you’ll see the most sympathetic instance of split personality pleading in modern trial law.

Everybody ready for the circus? His trial is presently set to begin June 20th.


16
May 11

I am unseasonably cool all week

This is May. And I’m writing this from the Deep South — so deep and so far south it requires capital letters — and the high temperature today was 66. Odd. But by and large a wonderful day.

I rode the bike for a while, down the big hill of death near home and then up the corresponding hills of shame past the two roads of unobservant drivers. Having negotiated all of that I pressed on through a red light and down the road a few more miles of country roads to a stop sign. And when I got there I turned around, gritted through the hills and took a left at the light. From there I pressed on as fast as my little spent legs would take me, hung a right into the subdivision and struggled up the ascent of embarrassment.

And the weather was so nice I didn’t even break a sweat.

So I cleaned up, watered the plants and went frame shopping. I have a backlog of things to frame and hang, but I am thrifty and frames are pricey. So I look for reasonable frames holding unfortunate prints, or cheap frames at places like Big Lots. That place is a closeout store, which means the tacky things that didn’t sell somehow make it there. Things like this. Who says “Oh I need that in the dining room!” Or, maybe this is more your style.

I’m putting this in our house.

Somehow I managed to resist the temptation to purchase the foosball coffee table:

Foosball

They missed their price point, though. You can get a real and full-sized table for a similar amount of coin.

This was the site when I left the store:

Stormy

Pretty ominous, but nothing came of it. A few minutes later the clouds were low and dramatic, but they pushed off without a peep.

Stormy

Hit an outlet store, but realized they are having a sale Friday so I’ll go back. Hit World Market, because why not? Picked up a few food items at the grocery store, too. They will almost fight you to carry out your groceries when you have a cart full. You bring it to the register by hand, and they put it in two bags, and you’re on your own.

Strolled around, took a few pictures, had dinner, put some time into a project I have in the works and thought about closing the windows. It was cold. Hit 52 degrees tonight. The weather is lovely, but decidedly un-Maylike. Makes you wonder what’s in store.


9
May 11

More than you already knew about Lombardo Boyar

Noticed this last night while catching up on the TiVo. The Hispanic gentleman they want for murdering his wife in this clip in Los Angeles-based television show Southland:

Is the same Hispanic gentleman suspected of murdering his entire family (wife, two kids and mother-in-law) in this clip of Los Angeles-based The Closer:

Both shows are on TNT, both shows have referenced Parker Center, which was the real home of the LAPD until 2009 (a plot point used by The Closer, but not by Southland thus far). Aside from occasional references to common departments the shows don’t have much crossover. But this guy, well, he’s just had a tough few years.

He was guilt in Southland, seems he’d used a skillet on his wife and his kids were trying to cover for him. He was innocent on The Closer. The pregnant girlfriend of some incarcerated gang member had a bad address and shot up the wrong place.

That actor, Lombardo Boyar, has been 75 television shows and movies, including three different characters of NYPD Blue. He’s also been arrested on CSI Miami, he ran a contraband cigarette scheme on an episode of The Shield, played a mistaken wallet snatcher on Boston Legal, a cop suspected of murder in the original CSI, a concerned bystander in Day 2 of 24 and a young tough in Walker, Texas Ranger:

(Chuck Norris, awesome even in French.)

Oh, he’s not always a bad guy. Here’s Boyar in Happy Feet.

The things you can do with a few minutes, IMDB, a search engine and a few episode guides.


2
May 11

Living right

Busy day as the semester begins to wrap itself up with a tidy bow.

Made the commute to campus to pop in and pick up a newspaper plate. We give one of these to the editor of the paper every year. It should have been in the office early last week, but the storms got in the way, as they passed over our printer’s facilities, ruining their town, killing the power and making travel impossible for a while.

So now comes the task of trying to get this thing prepared in a few minutes for its presentation tonight. I stopped by the Framin’ Shoppe where the nice lady that makes all of our beautiful projects said “You must be living right. How’s 3:30?”

And that was perfect. So I left for other errands, swinging by AAA for a currency exchange and then to the old homestead for a termite inspection. It passed. The guy that gave it the close examination may have been younger than me. (That is starting to happen more and more.) And he was the teach you how to build a watch type of fellow. I’d simply asked him about this new Sentricon product I’d heard about — figuring I might get his professional opinion since he wasn’t selling anything to me — and received an education and a demonstration.

We went to the back of his truck, the appearance of which he apologized for. Seems it wasn’t clean enough to be the backdrop of his demonstration. But he pressed on, pulling out bait traps and discussing the finer points of this evolving treatment system. Seems this particular company is going to be moving to this technique later in the year.

I like this company. They do it all the right way. They answer the phone by saying “How may I make your day better?” When they come visit you have to remind the technician what to check out. In one of those clerical errors that never gets resolved the out-building isn’t on his manifest, but he just accepts that the out-building is part of the job and he does what you ask of him. They show up on time. They don’t stick around longer than necessary and still manage to come off as very personable people.

One time a guy beat me home and he sat in the drive and waited for a few minutes, doing his paperwork. I pulled into the drive and then he cranked his truck and left. He somehow managed to miss me standing there. So I called the office and we all had a good laugh. Except for that guy. He was very concerned about the mix-up.

“Accidents happen, my friend. Make sure there are no bugs.”

So all is well there, and another errand off the list. Back to the framing place, where the newspaper plate was ready to go and I promised I’d brag on them. Framin’ Shoppe, Framin’ Shoppe, Framin’ Shoppe.

And that got me back on campus in time for a meeting with next year’s staff of the Crimson. There are a lot of holdovers from this year’s staff. Some of the new faces have been in my classes. They’re all seem pretty sharp. And really didn’t want to hear me blather on today. There’s the picnic, finals for which to prepare and tonight’s intramural softball championship.

Priorities.

So we all made our way over to the picnic, which is indoors, because we often have rain about this time. The meal is catered by Johnny Ray’s, a local barbecue place that is apparently in some decline. The website is gone and, I was told tonight, most of the locations are closed, including the original store on Valley. Shame, too, because the food is good.

We gave out awards to journalism and mass communication majors at the picnic. I got to call out the names of several hardworking students.

And when it came time to present the now handsomely framed newspaper plate to this year’s editor-in-chief I mentioned the dedication to this task displayed by the printer in getting the thing here despite the storm and the huge save today. (Framin’ Shoppe!) I said the things I’d prepared — noting Jennifer’s can-do attitude, her always-present smile, how hard she and her team had worked this year and so on — I discovered … she had disappeared.

Can’t win ’em all.

So I thought up a new joke. When in doubt, laugh at yourself.

The picnic is great fun. The students and professors are a bit more at ease — there is nothing due in an evening to brag on the best students — and there is much laughter. This is the moment when the end of the spring semester becomes a reality, and you can allow yourself to think of the summer without it feeling like far off daydreaming.

This is the beginning of the final week of classes. Things are winding down as they ramp up to finals.

One update on the LOMO blog.


25
Apr 11

Of peanut butter and Dr. Strangelove

Just wrapping up our falllout shelter, time capsule dive from the weekend. To recap: at my grandmothers we were invited to explore the old shelter, which was installed for storms and, maybe, the Cuban Missile Crisis. The period is write, based on some of the logos and clues like old radio call letters I found in the shelter. There are seven or eight pictures two posts below — conveniently highlighted in the link above, as well.

These are the last of our findings.

BettyCrocker

Fifty-year-old recipes are mildly interesting. You just sort of assume your grandmother could already make everything, I guess, and didn’t need Betty’s help.

BettyCrocker

And she hasn’t changed much. The first Betty Crocker was a real person, portrayed by actress Adelaide Hawley Cumming. She died in 1998 at 93. Look familiar? She played the role until 1964, so this is probably a transitional box, given the timing. When she was on everyone’s television and every woman’s kitchen Cumming was as popular as any lady in the country.

I thought this was a fairly steady image, but it seems Betty Crocker is always changing. She found the fountain of youth in 1955, became a member of the workforce in 1980 and her complexion changed a bit in the 1990s. Later, the image of Betty Crocker was said to be a composite of 75 different women.

This box of mashed potatoes sold for $.35 in the early 1960s.

Water

This is the emergency food, meant to last one person for 14 days. All of the smaller cans are drinking water. (There’s another layer beneath those cans.) The large can to the left is what you were supposed to eat. Appetites, and drinking needs, seemed to have changed a bit over the years.

EmergencyH20

Love the can labels though. We opened one and it was fine. Not suitable for drinking, but no odd color or funky smell. If you’re supposed to drink eight eight-ounce glasses of water a day this little can wasn’t cutting it. Not sure of the explanation behind the discrepancy, unless dehydration since has really improved 400 percent since the Kennedy years.

MPF

We tried to remove the wrapper from that large can in the box, but it just tore and fell away. The Multi-Purpose Food is “protein-rich granules fortified with vitamins and minerals, pre-cooked, ready to use.”

There are directions. But if you read them closely you learn that this can’s servings are designed to give you 450 calories per tasty, grainy meal. It is pre-cooked, so you don’t have to break out the Sterno. The bad news is you’re going to want to eat this with something else to ward off fall out shelter malnutrition.

In the event of nuclear attack, pre-cooked granules go great with tomato juice! Or soup and crackers! It is yummy on a peanut butter spread!

The box suggested the contents would be all you’d need. Someone should ask General Mills about this. This product is soy-based and has an interesting history:

In the late 1950s, however, the product was reformulated to contain simply toasted soy protein (TSP, toasted defatted soy grits) fortified with vitamins and minerals. This new Multi-Purpose Food contained 50% protein and was completely pre-cooked; a 2-ounce serving provided 40% of the daily recommended protein allowance and one-third or more of the requirements for 10 major vitamins and minerals for a 154 pound (70 kg) adult male. MPF was made in Minneapolis by General Mills until 1980. In an era when protein malnutrition was considered the basis of world hunger, MPF was viewed as a concentrated protein supplement that could be incorporated into many indigenous foods.

[…]

From September 1946 until 1955 the Foundation distributed the equivalent of more than 36 million 56-gm (2-ounce) meals of MPF (2,016 tonnes total) to 86 needy nations via 126 relief and welfare organizations, chief among them the United Rescue Mission. Actually, virtually all of the food was shipped in sealed #10 cans, mostly to missionaries, doctors, and the like who operated soup kitchens, hospitals, or clinics. In the peak years of distribution in the mid-1960s, shipments were roughly 50 to 90 metric tons a year . . . never a very large amount by typical relief standards. Yet MPF garnered widespread publicity for soy and for the concept of relief feeding

Here’s more on the stuff.

We opened the can. It was a very fine powder. If only we hadn’t already enjoyed our dinner.

SurvivAll

The box itself hurts our timeline. The Office of Civil and Defense Mobilization was in existence from 1958-1961, making this box older than everything else I can date from the fallout shelter.

Perhaps my grandfather had been holding onto it for a while, thinking it had a good shelf life and when his shelter was installed he carried it underground.* Maybe the name of the department was just to good to pass up for the product’s makers. The list of the agencies’ successors:

  • Emergency mobilization and general preparedness planning: Office of Emergency Planning (1961- 68)
  • Office of Emergency Preparedness (1968-73)
  • Office of Preparedness, General Services Administration (1973-75)
  • Federal Preparedness Agency (1975-79).
  • Of Surviv-All Inc. I can find only one mention. Dr. Strangelove’s America: society and culture in the atomic age, by Margot A. Henriksen, tells us they also sold shelters and radiation suits. I’m sure those were top-quality materials at $19.95, even in Kennedy-era money.

    Surviv-All, if it wasn’t sued into oblivion, is a name ripe for a return to the marketplace.

    *Update: My mother chimes in, thinking I am right, recalling the shelter was installed in 1961:

    PRIOR to the installation, Daddy volunteered with the Civil Defense, Rescue Squad, etc. in Florence. He was a HAM radio operator and took emergency medical training offered by the Red Cross. It would stand to reason that he would move the emergency survival supplies to the fallout shelter as the Cuban Missile Crisis intensified.

    Dad could get the information sent from the US government to the Civil Defense programs before the average citizen had heard the information. I recall several nights he had to go to downtown Florence unexpectedly, although I didn’t always understand why. Add all this up, and it would make sense that the Emergency-Paks possibly (and probably) came from the Civil Defense office in Florence.