Lemon Law
Hello World,
Happy October! While a normal and sane person might consider that laughably premature, I can assure you that it is not nearly as premature as we might all hope it to be. In fact, it will actually be October in a scant few days on Monday, believe that or don't, and although that would seem impossible, it is indeed the case. Those of us who don't already have all of our necessary costume parts for Halloween had better take a hint and get hopping on the double. You can't even get away with the old standard of dressing in shabby clothes and carrying a sack on a stick, because nobody even knows what a hobo is anymore. Of course, at the hospital, many people I meet in the hallways always seems to say "fairy godmother!" to me, no matter what costume I happen to be wearing at the time, so I suppose it wouldn't matter if they didn't understand the hobo effect either. You can believe me when I say that costume appreciation is a lost art.
Last year, when I was scrounging around for costume parts for the Easter Bunny, and having nothing but trouble with it, I don't mind saying, I kept coming across this other costume idea that seemed to be all over the place and everywhere at once. I had already made up my mind on the Easter Bunny, but it occurred to me that I should just go ahead and buy all the parts I would need for this other costume anyway, so that in the following year, I would be already set way ahead of time for my costume. Obviously, it doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out that was never going to work, so no one should be surprised. Owing to a variety of factors, the costume that I already have, and through no fault of its own, was not going to hit the mark this time around, and I found myself scrambling about in September, as I usually do, for assorted costume parts that would fit the bill and on short notice. Now, this is a tried and true tradition of my Halloween experiences, so I certainly don't want to cast aspersions on the process at this late date. And as ludicrous as it may seem to your average normal and sane person, I do still have a future costume possibility waiting in the wings, if ever the conditions are right for this concept to see the light of day. I don't know what day that might be, but if it ever dawns, I'll at least have a costume for it.
Speaking of the light of day, one of our alert readers (thanks, John!) shared his observations about Daylight Saving Time --
======================================
About DST. You already know my thought on DST. (That it is a load of $#!+ ) But if we are lucky the wonderfully brilliant members of Congress will move the advance date up to January 1 and the retard(!) date back to December 31. (Oh don't you wish they would move it all the way back to January 2? )
=======================================
Of course, everyone knows how I worry when things like that start to make perfect sense to me! And while we're on the topic of things making sense (NOT) I couldn't help but notice this arresting subject line on some junk email that snuck through our spam filters at work:
Subj: NATURAL PERMANENT HAIR LOSS
How's that again? I'm absolutely certain that's not at all what they mean, and it makes me wonder who they expect to entice with that unappealing idea, except perhaps the Wolf Man or Sasquatch. Along those same lines of not saying what they mean, Bill works with a woman who translates their signs into Spanish when necessary, and at one point, she was working on a difficult translation and when it was done, the person she translated it for wanted it translated BACK badly, as an example of how NOT to do it. For anyone else who might be in the market for bad translations, Bill's suggestion is to take a swing by google translation services, and he provides the following illuminating sample, which he submitted in English and translated into Spanish, and then re-submitted it in Spanish to be translated back into English again, with the inadvertent humor that would be expected of such a method:
======================================
ORIGINAL MESSAGE:
Oh, and PS, they fixed the phone so well that the hum on the line is coming over loud and clear! Good thing my ear is still being dull so I can't hear it (took the last antibiotic today, so if nothing improves by Thursday, it's back to you-know-soohoo!) That's all the news from this end. I hope all is better there. Oh, and a quick suggestion -- next time you want a bad translation of something, go to Google Translations (www.google.com/language_tools) and paste the text in there. There is nothing that compares with a good automated translation. In fact, I'm translating this last paragraph and pasting it below -- hope it's as bad as I think it is! Stay cool (in all senses of the word!) and I hope to hear from you soon!
RE-TRANSLATED BACK FROM SPANISH:
Oh, and picosecond, fixed the well of the telephone so that the snore in the line is excessive that comes noisy and clear! The good thing my ear is continuing being dulled so I cannot hear it (took the antibiotic last today, so if nothing improves per Thursday, is again to you-knows-soohoo!) That one is all news of this end. I hope that everything is better there. Oh, and a fast suggestion -- the next time you wish a bad translation something, you go to the translations of Google (www.google.com/language_tools) and sticks the text inside there. There is nothing compares with a good automated translation. In fact, I am translating this last paragraph and I am sticking them down -- hope is as bad as I think that it is! Fresh stay (in all the senses of the word!) and I hope to hear soon of you!
======================================
Well, we certainly don't want to make fun of the hard-working automated translators at google, but it must be said that translation falls just short of the pin-point accuracy that we strive for around here. Picoseconds, indeed.
As long as we're tossing brickbats at the online translating services, here's another story pulled out from the shrouded mists of ancient times gone by, at least as I recall it from when the dinosaurs and I were going to elementary school and singing in chorus. I was in chorus in every grade that I can remember in school, and must have sung dozens and dozens of pieces, good and bad, old and new, of all different sorts. To this day, I can only remember two of them. One was "Up, Up and Away," which was a popular hit song of the day, and because we rehearsed it until we were blue in the face, if I never hear it again in my whole life, it will be too soon, believe me. The other was something called "Verdant Meadows," and I never thought I would despise something as much as I loathed this piece of choral claptrap, and whoever thought a bunch of 6th graders should tackle this, should have had their head examined. With all the vast musical experience of a 13-year-old, I thought this was the worst drivel I had ever heard, and couldn't wait to be done with it. And yet, a curious thing happened, which is the true hallmark of great classical music, that years later, I still remembered it, when everything else we ever did was long forgotten. Without realizing it, I often found myself humming it, and as I got older, I started to appreciate its timeless qualities of melody and charm that could not be ignored. I finally had to buy a CD that had a wobbly soprano airing it out, just for the sentimental value of hearing it again for old time's sake. But the soprano's voice was so shrill and full of vibrato that I couldn't understand any of the words, apart from the opening of "verdant meadows," which I already remembered.
In our house, the research challenges are Bill's bailiwick, and he came to the fore in this instance, as he always does. It turns out to be an aria from the opera "Alcina" by Handel, and you would think that anyone in the world could get the lyrics to this, especially being Handel, for heaven's sake. (Hallelujah! and all that, after all.) Not so fast! Here's what Bill has to say about it --
===============================
I also looked for the original lyrics and had more luck there, finding Verdi Prati (apparently the Handel is in Italian, originally) which goes like this:
Verdi prati, selve amene,
perderete la belta.
Vaghi fior, correnti rivi,
la vaghezza, la bellezza
presto in voi si cangera.
Verdi prati, selve amene,
perderete la belta.
E cangiato il vago oggetto
all'orror del primo aspetto
tutto in voi ritornera.
~~~~~~~> Which translates (online) to this:
Green meadows, pleasant woods,
to lose the beauty.
Vague fior, running rivi,
the vagueness, I lend the beauty in you
it will be changed.
Green meadows, pleasant woods,
to lose the beauty.
And changed the vague object
to the orror of the first aspect
everything to you will return.
~~~~~~> Gotta love those online translations! (Just the slightest bit 'orrorible, guv!) I mean, even I know what "presto" means - so the last line of the first verse should be something like "the beauty in you changes fast." Oh well.
=====================================
Well, I don't know about any normal and sane people out there, but personally, I can't see any way to improve upon that. So, short of climbing aboard my old friend the stegosaurus and heading back to my old elementary school (which has since been turned into co-op apartments) and digging through the music room files for the original sheet music from when we performed it in 1966, I suppose this is about as good as it's going to get. Now, it's easy to feel discouraged when the aptly-named Fickle Finger of Fate throws you a curve that upsets the apple cart and dashes your hopes like a runaway freight train. Luckily, I recently found myself at http://www.superdeluxe.com/ and among their artist pages is someone called DC Lugi, who was kind enough to offer these words of wisdom and comfort in a perilous world, and I'm happy to pass them along as a public service.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
IF LIFE HANDS YOU LEMONS,
THROW THEM AT CHILDREN
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
No, please don't thank me, honestly, it's enough that I have the vague fior, running rivi, the vagueness, I lend the beauty in you, it will be changed.
Happy October! While a normal and sane person might consider that laughably premature, I can assure you that it is not nearly as premature as we might all hope it to be. In fact, it will actually be October in a scant few days on Monday, believe that or don't, and although that would seem impossible, it is indeed the case. Those of us who don't already have all of our necessary costume parts for Halloween had better take a hint and get hopping on the double. You can't even get away with the old standard of dressing in shabby clothes and carrying a sack on a stick, because nobody even knows what a hobo is anymore. Of course, at the hospital, many people I meet in the hallways always seems to say "fairy godmother!" to me, no matter what costume I happen to be wearing at the time, so I suppose it wouldn't matter if they didn't understand the hobo effect either. You can believe me when I say that costume appreciation is a lost art.
Last year, when I was scrounging around for costume parts for the Easter Bunny, and having nothing but trouble with it, I don't mind saying, I kept coming across this other costume idea that seemed to be all over the place and everywhere at once. I had already made up my mind on the Easter Bunny, but it occurred to me that I should just go ahead and buy all the parts I would need for this other costume anyway, so that in the following year, I would be already set way ahead of time for my costume. Obviously, it doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out that was never going to work, so no one should be surprised. Owing to a variety of factors, the costume that I already have, and through no fault of its own, was not going to hit the mark this time around, and I found myself scrambling about in September, as I usually do, for assorted costume parts that would fit the bill and on short notice. Now, this is a tried and true tradition of my Halloween experiences, so I certainly don't want to cast aspersions on the process at this late date. And as ludicrous as it may seem to your average normal and sane person, I do still have a future costume possibility waiting in the wings, if ever the conditions are right for this concept to see the light of day. I don't know what day that might be, but if it ever dawns, I'll at least have a costume for it.
Speaking of the light of day, one of our alert readers (thanks, John!) shared his observations about Daylight Saving Time --
======================================
About DST. You already know my thought on DST. (That it is a load of $#!+ ) But if we are lucky the wonderfully brilliant members of Congress will move the advance date up to January 1 and the retard(!) date back to December 31. (Oh don't you wish they would move it all the way back to January 2? )
=======================================
Of course, everyone knows how I worry when things like that start to make perfect sense to me! And while we're on the topic of things making sense (NOT) I couldn't help but notice this arresting subject line on some junk email that snuck through our spam filters at work:
Subj: NATURAL PERMANENT HAIR LOSS
How's that again? I'm absolutely certain that's not at all what they mean, and it makes me wonder who they expect to entice with that unappealing idea, except perhaps the Wolf Man or Sasquatch. Along those same lines of not saying what they mean, Bill works with a woman who translates their signs into Spanish when necessary, and at one point, she was working on a difficult translation and when it was done, the person she translated it for wanted it translated BACK badly, as an example of how NOT to do it. For anyone else who might be in the market for bad translations, Bill's suggestion is to take a swing by google translation services, and he provides the following illuminating sample, which he submitted in English and translated into Spanish, and then re-submitted it in Spanish to be translated back into English again, with the inadvertent humor that would be expected of such a method:
======================================
ORIGINAL MESSAGE:
Oh, and PS, they fixed the phone so well that the hum on the line is coming over loud and clear! Good thing my ear is still being dull so I can't hear it (took the last antibiotic today, so if nothing improves by Thursday, it's back to you-know-soohoo!) That's all the news from this end. I hope all is better there. Oh, and a quick suggestion -- next time you want a bad translation of something, go to Google Translations (www.google.com/language_tools) and paste the text in there. There is nothing that compares with a good automated translation. In fact, I'm translating this last paragraph and pasting it below -- hope it's as bad as I think it is! Stay cool (in all senses of the word!) and I hope to hear from you soon!
RE-TRANSLATED BACK FROM SPANISH:
Oh, and picosecond, fixed the well of the telephone so that the snore in the line is excessive that comes noisy and clear! The good thing my ear is continuing being dulled so I cannot hear it (took the antibiotic last today, so if nothing improves per Thursday, is again to you-knows-soohoo!) That one is all news of this end. I hope that everything is better there. Oh, and a fast suggestion -- the next time you wish a bad translation something, you go to the translations of Google (www.google.com/language_tools) and sticks the text inside there. There is nothing compares with a good automated translation. In fact, I am translating this last paragraph and I am sticking them down -- hope is as bad as I think that it is! Fresh stay (in all the senses of the word!) and I hope to hear soon of you!
======================================
Well, we certainly don't want to make fun of the hard-working automated translators at google, but it must be said that translation falls just short of the pin-point accuracy that we strive for around here. Picoseconds, indeed.
As long as we're tossing brickbats at the online translating services, here's another story pulled out from the shrouded mists of ancient times gone by, at least as I recall it from when the dinosaurs and I were going to elementary school and singing in chorus. I was in chorus in every grade that I can remember in school, and must have sung dozens and dozens of pieces, good and bad, old and new, of all different sorts. To this day, I can only remember two of them. One was "Up, Up and Away," which was a popular hit song of the day, and because we rehearsed it until we were blue in the face, if I never hear it again in my whole life, it will be too soon, believe me. The other was something called "Verdant Meadows," and I never thought I would despise something as much as I loathed this piece of choral claptrap, and whoever thought a bunch of 6th graders should tackle this, should have had their head examined. With all the vast musical experience of a 13-year-old, I thought this was the worst drivel I had ever heard, and couldn't wait to be done with it. And yet, a curious thing happened, which is the true hallmark of great classical music, that years later, I still remembered it, when everything else we ever did was long forgotten. Without realizing it, I often found myself humming it, and as I got older, I started to appreciate its timeless qualities of melody and charm that could not be ignored. I finally had to buy a CD that had a wobbly soprano airing it out, just for the sentimental value of hearing it again for old time's sake. But the soprano's voice was so shrill and full of vibrato that I couldn't understand any of the words, apart from the opening of "verdant meadows," which I already remembered.
In our house, the research challenges are Bill's bailiwick, and he came to the fore in this instance, as he always does. It turns out to be an aria from the opera "Alcina" by Handel, and you would think that anyone in the world could get the lyrics to this, especially being Handel, for heaven's sake. (Hallelujah! and all that, after all.) Not so fast! Here's what Bill has to say about it --
===============================
I also looked for the original lyrics and had more luck there, finding Verdi Prati (apparently the Handel is in Italian, originally) which goes like this:
Verdi prati, selve amene,
perderete la belta.
Vaghi fior, correnti rivi,
la vaghezza, la bellezza
presto in voi si cangera.
Verdi prati, selve amene,
perderete la belta.
E cangiato il vago oggetto
all'orror del primo aspetto
tutto in voi ritornera.
~~~~~~~> Which translates (online) to this:
Green meadows, pleasant woods,
to lose the beauty.
Vague fior, running rivi,
the vagueness, I lend the beauty in you
it will be changed.
Green meadows, pleasant woods,
to lose the beauty.
And changed the vague object
to the orror of the first aspect
everything to you will return.
~~~~~~> Gotta love those online translations! (Just the slightest bit 'orrorible, guv!) I mean, even I know what "presto" means - so the last line of the first verse should be something like "the beauty in you changes fast." Oh well.
=====================================
Well, I don't know about any normal and sane people out there, but personally, I can't see any way to improve upon that. So, short of climbing aboard my old friend the stegosaurus and heading back to my old elementary school (which has since been turned into co-op apartments) and digging through the music room files for the original sheet music from when we performed it in 1966, I suppose this is about as good as it's going to get. Now, it's easy to feel discouraged when the aptly-named Fickle Finger of Fate throws you a curve that upsets the apple cart and dashes your hopes like a runaway freight train. Luckily, I recently found myself at http://www.superdeluxe.com/ and among their artist pages is someone called DC Lugi, who was kind enough to offer these words of wisdom and comfort in a perilous world, and I'm happy to pass them along as a public service.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
IF LIFE HANDS YOU LEMONS,
THROW THEM AT CHILDREN
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
No, please don't thank me, honestly, it's enough that I have the vague fior, running rivi, the vagueness, I lend the beauty in you, it will be changed.
posted by El Tango Fandango @ 5:47 PM
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