Happy New Fire Dogs
Hello World,
Hong Kong Bok Choy! Yes, the time has certainly come, and not a moment too soon, to welcome in the Chinese New Year and wish everyone in our viewing audience very Happy New Fire Dogs for 2006. I actually thought that the beginning of what is politely referred to as Asian Lunar New Year, or most likely by Asians as Tet, was still ahead of us, because usually it makes more of a splash in the local media when the time comes. This can be a difficult holiday to nail down, since it ranges anywhere from mid-January (for instance, January 22 in 2004) to as late as February 18 in 2007. This year, it started off with its usual bang on January 29, and when it comes to throwing a party, well let me just say that the Asians are no Moslems, that's for sure! In fact, they could give the Irish a run for their money, except for the part about the green beer and the protests. Many places where you can look up information about Chinese New Year call this the Year of the Dog, however, several specify Fire Dogs, rather than just any old dogs, so it goes without saying that I would be sending out special good wishes to one and all for very many and prosperous Happy New Fire Dogs!
This is shaping up to be a busy week, what with the beginning of a new month, plus Chinese New Year, Groundhog Day and the SuperBowl on Sunday. I should also put in a plug for the Souper Bowl of Caring, which is a great idea of young people collecting money to help feed the needy, so if you see any of them on Sunday, be sure to give them a generous donation. Speaking of food, Bill and I just loved this recent entry in our Word-A-Day calendar for 2006, and you're welcome to visit their website at www.pageaday.com -
=============================
The word "Frankenfood" was coined in 1992 by English professor Paul Lewis, who used it in a letter to The New York Times in response to the decision of the U.S. Food and Drug Administration to let companies market genetically altered food. "Franken-" is an allusion to Frankenstein, and like the monster in Mary Shelley's novel, Frankenfood has met with hostility. Not everyone is against it, but the word itself tends to have a derogatory slant.
============================
We've been trying to come up with an example of a word that begins with "Franken-" that doesn't have a derogatory slant, but so far the only one that suggests itself is Frankenberry cereal, where the monster is more timid than terrifying. Personally, I think we can accept as a given that whenever anyone coins a word by putting "Franken-" in front of it, their purpose is pretty clear in trying to create an expression with a derogatory slant.
While we're on the topic of slanted things, I may as well say that I would probably get a lot more done on my computer lately, except for a severe ergonomic challenge I've been subjected to recently. One of our smaller and more timid cats, who would like to be known as Miss Princess Smudge, had been out living large with the invisible cats downstairs, and had so much trouble with them that she nearly starved to death before we moved her out of their reach into the den. My computer is also in the den, although previously this posed no conflict of interest among the involved parties. But all of a sudden, and here we can't rule out the possibility of Asian Lunar influences, she has made the unilateral decision that my use of the computer absolutely requires her participation. Of course, any cat can sit on top of the mouse, or walk on the keyboard, or stand in front of the monitor, or even plop down in your lap and thereby make it impossible to get any work done. Smudge takes this a step further, or should I say to a whole new level, by climbing up my back and laying down full-length across my shoulders behind my head. Obviously, the only way this works is if I hunch forward and put my head down, so she doesn't roll back down and fall off behind the chair. Now with my chin in my chest, I have to roll my eyes all the way up just to see the monitor, and because I'm leaning forward, I have to pull my elbows back just to reach the keys to type. I must look like some sort of grotesque cartoon character from a science fiction story
about deformed mutants enslaved by their computers or something. I will say that my productivity at home was never all that high to begin with, and this has really put a crimp in it, in more ways than one.
Meanwhile at church, the annual meeting has come and gone without having to call out the Riot Squad, which is always a good sign. There were the usual controversies, from the usual culprits, which I suppose has a certain perverse consistency to it that we should find reassuring after all these years. But it didn't deteriorate into a full-blown, brass-knuckles free-for-all as it's been known to do in previous years, and in fact, it ended very amicably, although later than most of us would have liked. For the fact that it ended when it did, we have to thank an unlikely source, because at 4:00 PM, the local chapter of Alcoholics Anonymous showed up for their weekly meeting in the church basement, and since they rent the space for that time, we couldn't very well keep them out. So we basically had to fold up our tents and steal away while Pastor was still in mid-blather ... er, I mean, still delivering an important lecture about some worthwhile idea or another, and much to the gratitude of all present. And I don't mind saying that I've had enough experience with invisible cats to know that the combination of grouchy Lutherans and anonymous alcoholics was just never going to work.
I found myself driving around for a few days this week with a note stuck under the windshield wiper of the Tempo, because I kept forgetting to take if out and see what it was. When I finally did, it turned out to be an advertisement for something called DJ Swurv at the Felt Lounge in town, where I was welcome to join them on Friday from 10PM to 4AM, as long as I was 18 years old. (I wouldn't want to tell them that I'm usually fast asleep by 10PM nowadays, and staying up until 4AM is definitely a thing of the distant past at this point.) They also specified that I had to be 21 to drink, and they promised me "Experienced Shotgirls," although they also mentioned their tight security, so I wouldn't get the wrong impression of this place. My favorite part was where they outlined their dress code for this shindig by saying, "Neat attire: Leave Constructs, Sneakers and T-Shirts @ Home." Bill and I are on board with the shoes and shirts thing, but we don't have the faintest idea what in the world a "construct" might be. And yet, it's obviously such a common and problematic item of apparel that they have to tell people not to wear it, whatever it is, on the very invitation that they're trying to get people into the Lounge in the first place. Of course, I realize that we are woefully out of touch, and every so often, something crops up that just points out even more so, how out of it us old fogeys really are in today's fast-paced world.
On the other hand, this pales in comparison with a story in our local newspaper on Wednesday, which brings to light this startling development in our fair city: "Two men accused of making a pornographic film in front of an open window are facing misdemeanor public lewdness charges. They were accused of making a gay pornographic film in a rented home at 157 Davenport Avenue in plain view of numerous bystanders who had gathered on the street, police said." You know I always want to say to people who are intending to embark on a life of crime that they might want to consider another career path, if this is the best idea that they can come up with. There's a reason that we have a famous old saying that people who live in glass houses shouldn't throw stones, and now we can add to that, or make porno movies in the living room. These guys must have skipped over that part in the "Porno for Dummies" guide.
On Saturday, we had gone to visit Mom on Long Island, and no one could have asked for a more glorious day, especially in the dead of winter (or did I miss something?) when it was sunny and a balmy 60 degrees. Mom wasn't up to eating out, so we went to Friendly's for lunch and brought her back one of her favorite menu items to enjoy at home. At least, that was our original plan, but when our waitress came to take our order, instead of asking for a Fishamajig sandwich, Bill announced to the lass that he wanted a "Thingamajig" from the Senior Menu to take home with us. So we said to Mom later that we had no idea what they might have given us, because we asked for a "Thingamajig" and there's no telling what the waitress thought of that strange menu choice, or how the kitchen staff might have interpreted that. They might have given us a container full of table scraps, or worse, or for all we know, maybe there is something on their menu called a "Thingamajig" and heaven only knows what it's made out of. Anyway, we had a good laugh about that, and luckily it turned out to be just what she wanted after all. That was a good thing, because we certainly don't want to foist any Frankenfood on anyone, and I don't mean that in a derogatory way.
Hong Kong Bok Choy! Yes, the time has certainly come, and not a moment too soon, to welcome in the Chinese New Year and wish everyone in our viewing audience very Happy New Fire Dogs for 2006. I actually thought that the beginning of what is politely referred to as Asian Lunar New Year, or most likely by Asians as Tet, was still ahead of us, because usually it makes more of a splash in the local media when the time comes. This can be a difficult holiday to nail down, since it ranges anywhere from mid-January (for instance, January 22 in 2004) to as late as February 18 in 2007. This year, it started off with its usual bang on January 29, and when it comes to throwing a party, well let me just say that the Asians are no Moslems, that's for sure! In fact, they could give the Irish a run for their money, except for the part about the green beer and the protests. Many places where you can look up information about Chinese New Year call this the Year of the Dog, however, several specify Fire Dogs, rather than just any old dogs, so it goes without saying that I would be sending out special good wishes to one and all for very many and prosperous Happy New Fire Dogs!
This is shaping up to be a busy week, what with the beginning of a new month, plus Chinese New Year, Groundhog Day and the SuperBowl on Sunday. I should also put in a plug for the Souper Bowl of Caring, which is a great idea of young people collecting money to help feed the needy, so if you see any of them on Sunday, be sure to give them a generous donation. Speaking of food, Bill and I just loved this recent entry in our Word-A-Day calendar for 2006, and you're welcome to visit their website at www.pageaday.com -
=============================
The word "Frankenfood" was coined in 1992 by English professor Paul Lewis, who used it in a letter to The New York Times in response to the decision of the U.S. Food and Drug Administration to let companies market genetically altered food. "Franken-" is an allusion to Frankenstein, and like the monster in Mary Shelley's novel, Frankenfood has met with hostility. Not everyone is against it, but the word itself tends to have a derogatory slant.
============================
We've been trying to come up with an example of a word that begins with "Franken-" that doesn't have a derogatory slant, but so far the only one that suggests itself is Frankenberry cereal, where the monster is more timid than terrifying. Personally, I think we can accept as a given that whenever anyone coins a word by putting "Franken-" in front of it, their purpose is pretty clear in trying to create an expression with a derogatory slant.
While we're on the topic of slanted things, I may as well say that I would probably get a lot more done on my computer lately, except for a severe ergonomic challenge I've been subjected to recently. One of our smaller and more timid cats, who would like to be known as Miss Princess Smudge, had been out living large with the invisible cats downstairs, and had so much trouble with them that she nearly starved to death before we moved her out of their reach into the den. My computer is also in the den, although previously this posed no conflict of interest among the involved parties. But all of a sudden, and here we can't rule out the possibility of Asian Lunar influences, she has made the unilateral decision that my use of the computer absolutely requires her participation. Of course, any cat can sit on top of the mouse, or walk on the keyboard, or stand in front of the monitor, or even plop down in your lap and thereby make it impossible to get any work done. Smudge takes this a step further, or should I say to a whole new level, by climbing up my back and laying down full-length across my shoulders behind my head. Obviously, the only way this works is if I hunch forward and put my head down, so she doesn't roll back down and fall off behind the chair. Now with my chin in my chest, I have to roll my eyes all the way up just to see the monitor, and because I'm leaning forward, I have to pull my elbows back just to reach the keys to type. I must look like some sort of grotesque cartoon character from a science fiction story
about deformed mutants enslaved by their computers or something. I will say that my productivity at home was never all that high to begin with, and this has really put a crimp in it, in more ways than one.
Meanwhile at church, the annual meeting has come and gone without having to call out the Riot Squad, which is always a good sign. There were the usual controversies, from the usual culprits, which I suppose has a certain perverse consistency to it that we should find reassuring after all these years. But it didn't deteriorate into a full-blown, brass-knuckles free-for-all as it's been known to do in previous years, and in fact, it ended very amicably, although later than most of us would have liked. For the fact that it ended when it did, we have to thank an unlikely source, because at 4:00 PM, the local chapter of Alcoholics Anonymous showed up for their weekly meeting in the church basement, and since they rent the space for that time, we couldn't very well keep them out. So we basically had to fold up our tents and steal away while Pastor was still in mid-blather ... er, I mean, still delivering an important lecture about some worthwhile idea or another, and much to the gratitude of all present. And I don't mind saying that I've had enough experience with invisible cats to know that the combination of grouchy Lutherans and anonymous alcoholics was just never going to work.
I found myself driving around for a few days this week with a note stuck under the windshield wiper of the Tempo, because I kept forgetting to take if out and see what it was. When I finally did, it turned out to be an advertisement for something called DJ Swurv at the Felt Lounge in town, where I was welcome to join them on Friday from 10PM to 4AM, as long as I was 18 years old. (I wouldn't want to tell them that I'm usually fast asleep by 10PM nowadays, and staying up until 4AM is definitely a thing of the distant past at this point.) They also specified that I had to be 21 to drink, and they promised me "Experienced Shotgirls," although they also mentioned their tight security, so I wouldn't get the wrong impression of this place. My favorite part was where they outlined their dress code for this shindig by saying, "Neat attire: Leave Constructs, Sneakers and T-Shirts @ Home." Bill and I are on board with the shoes and shirts thing, but we don't have the faintest idea what in the world a "construct" might be. And yet, it's obviously such a common and problematic item of apparel that they have to tell people not to wear it, whatever it is, on the very invitation that they're trying to get people into the Lounge in the first place. Of course, I realize that we are woefully out of touch, and every so often, something crops up that just points out even more so, how out of it us old fogeys really are in today's fast-paced world.
On the other hand, this pales in comparison with a story in our local newspaper on Wednesday, which brings to light this startling development in our fair city: "Two men accused of making a pornographic film in front of an open window are facing misdemeanor public lewdness charges. They were accused of making a gay pornographic film in a rented home at 157 Davenport Avenue in plain view of numerous bystanders who had gathered on the street, police said." You know I always want to say to people who are intending to embark on a life of crime that they might want to consider another career path, if this is the best idea that they can come up with. There's a reason that we have a famous old saying that people who live in glass houses shouldn't throw stones, and now we can add to that, or make porno movies in the living room. These guys must have skipped over that part in the "Porno for Dummies" guide.
On Saturday, we had gone to visit Mom on Long Island, and no one could have asked for a more glorious day, especially in the dead of winter (or did I miss something?) when it was sunny and a balmy 60 degrees. Mom wasn't up to eating out, so we went to Friendly's for lunch and brought her back one of her favorite menu items to enjoy at home. At least, that was our original plan, but when our waitress came to take our order, instead of asking for a Fishamajig sandwich, Bill announced to the lass that he wanted a "Thingamajig" from the Senior Menu to take home with us. So we said to Mom later that we had no idea what they might have given us, because we asked for a "Thingamajig" and there's no telling what the waitress thought of that strange menu choice, or how the kitchen staff might have interpreted that. They might have given us a container full of table scraps, or worse, or for all we know, maybe there is something on their menu called a "Thingamajig" and heaven only knows what it's made out of. Anyway, we had a good laugh about that, and luckily it turned out to be just what she wanted after all. That was a good thing, because we certainly don't want to foist any Frankenfood on anyone, and I don't mean that in a derogatory way.
posted by El Tango Fandango @ 9:25 PM
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