We are a commune of inquiring, skeptical, politically centrist, capitalist, anglophile, traditionalist New England Yankee humans, humanoids, and animals with many interests beyond and above politics. Each of us has had a high-school education (or GED), but all had ADD so didn't pay attention very well, especially the dogs. Each one of us does "try my best to be just like I am," and none of us enjoys working for others, including for Maggie, from whom we receive neither a nickel nor a dime. Freedom from nags, cranks, government, do-gooders, control-freaks and idiots is all that we ask for.
When I was much younger and lived in the East I went on many barefoot and small luxury sailings all over the Caribbean, primarily to the more diverse and less "Americanized" southern reaches. From San Diego, however, the air connections to the southern Caribbean waste a full day of misery. You can't beat the islands of the south, but it's not worth the arduous flight unless for more than several weeks stay.
One of the advantages of having young sons is that they have not seen the southern Caribbean and would not be disappointed by the more touristy Western Caribbean. They are curious and adventurous travelers -- and well behaved, pleasant company -- so, off we went with a direct connection from San Diego to Miami, a day of relaxation there, and then a Carnival ship to Cozumel, Belize, Honduras, and Grand Cayman. Thanksgiving, Chanukah and my birthday made for a very special trip of lasting memories.
I haven't been in Miami since I left Florida in 1979. A convenient public bus took us to South Beach from our hotel on a bay. Lincoln Road pedestrian mall has certainly improved with blocks chock full of tropical plantings and ethnic restaurants surrounded by spacioius outdoor seating areas under large umbrellas or canopies. The Santa Monica pedestrian mall is inspired by Lincoln Road but far misses the mark. We lucked in to the very best Cuban food ("YUCA"=Young Urban Cuban Americans) I've had since leaving Florida, and the boys gobbled theirs with many Hmmmmms of delectable delight. A bit further along the walk we came upon a giant Menorah and Dreidal for upcoming Chanukah. We didn't count but took the sign's word that it was made of over 25,000 seashells.
The next treat was visiting the historic Art Deco hotels along the South Beach. Before they became trendy, and extremely expensive, my grandmother would come down for the winters in the 1960s and 1970s. The insides are deluxe now but the exteriors are preserved. Lit up at night you feel like you stepped back to the 1930s and 1940s. The boys stood on the spot where I have a photo of me with my grandmother. She would be smiling with nachas.
The famous wide Miami Beach and its high rise hotels of varying ages, from the 1950s to now, are across the street from Grandma's hotel and stretch for miles.
(h/t American Digest) - Africa's Aid Mess - Renowned author Paul Theroux discusses
why the philanthropy of Bill Gates, Bill Clinton, Bono, and Jeffrey
Sachs largely fails. Here's what works.
A quote:
I was impressed by the self-sufficiency of ordinary people. Without much in the way of outside help, the people in the countries I knew managed to endure, usually through the simplest traditional means, and finally to prevail. Africa has the schools, the money and the resources to fix its own problems; it's appalling to think of donors telling them otherwise, of the whole continent terminally indebted and living on handouts.
It seems that the preening condescension of Western billionaires' "help" is not what Africans need. Like the Appalachian hillbillies in the 1960s, they don't know they need help but, like most humans, they'll take a freebie.
Does Africa need my help? Investment is one thing, but help?
I think even the sternest of moralists—such as I—could not help but think on hearing her story of Blake’s line, “some to misery are born.” Prison was the first time in her life she had experienced reasonably consistent and decent treatment; and sad to relate, her loss of freedom was a boon to her. She flourished (comparatively speaking) there.
When I returned home from having examined her, my wife told me that she had received a telephone call from her bank. The person from the bank had asked for her by name and then said, “First I have to ask you some security questions.”
“Since you phoned me,” said my wife, “are you sure it is not I who should be asking you some security questions?”
Kudlow on the radio today ruminated about, bemoaned, the lack of moral and spiritual equality in America today.
It reminded me of something a niece said about a friend, who had gotten engaged, at Thanksgiving: "She's psycho-socially a bit primitive, not too refined, so they're a good match."
Here's one quote of the Inquisitor's monologue to the returned and imprisoned Jesus Christ:
So long as man remains free he strives for nothing so incessantly and so painfully as to find someone to worship. But man seeks to worship what is established beyond dispute, so that all men would agree at once to worship it. For these pitiful creatures are concerned not only to find what one or the other can worship, but to find community of worship is the chief misery of every man individually and of all humanity from the beginning of time. For the sake of common worship they've slain each other with the sword. They have set up gods and challenged one another, "Put away your gods and come and worship ours, or we will kill you and your gods!" And so it will be to the end of the world, even when gods disappear from the earth; they will fall down before idols just the same.
Thou didst know, Thou couldst not but have known, this fundamental secret of human nature, but Thou didst reject the one infallible banner which was offered Thee to make all men bow down to Thee alone -- the banner of earthly bread; and Thou hast rejected it for the sake of freedom and the bread of Heaven. Behold what Thou didst further. And all again in the name of freedom! I tell Thee that man is tormented by no greater anxiety than to find someone quickly to whom he can hand over that gift of freedom with which the ill-fated creature is born.
In the absence of the Red Hot Chili Peppers and a bunch of pipers, Mrs. BD will have to bang out Auld Lang Syne herself on ye olde pianny tomorrow afternoon for a sing-along as the extended BD family gives thanks, but, for the first time, with my parents gone. Lots of people sleeping over - hope we can find enough rooms and beds at the BD Manor.
Mrs. BD can still find her pianny brain when she wants to. There is nothing like a Steinway to inspire them fingers because the machine fills the house with glorious sound, missed notes and all. I like the missed notes.
Our Thanksgiving tradition is to always invite friends along with family, especially friends and acquaintances without jolly and festive plans, but not so much of that this year even though we love having people around the place. There remains a funereal atmosphere in the family. These lyrics are more appropriate for the situation than I might have imagined. If any one of us can get through it without breaking down, I'll be amazed.
It is true that Bobbie Burns stole the lyrics, but he said he had done so.
Should old acquaintance be forgot, and never brought to mind? Should old acquaintance be forgot, and old lang syne?
CHORUS: For auld lang syne, my dear, for auld lang syne, we'll take a cup of kindness yet, for auld lang syne.
And surely you’ll buy your pint cup! and surely I’ll buy mine! And we'll take a cup o’ kindness yet, for auld lang syne.
CHORUS
We two have run about the slopes, and picked the daisies fine ; But we’ve wandered many a weary foot, since auld lang syne.
CHORUS
We two have paddled in the stream, from morning sun till dine; But seas between us broad have roared since auld lang syne.
CHORUS
And there’s a hand my trusty friend! And give me a hand o’ thine! And we’ll take a right good-will draught, for auld lang syne.
Last week, I agreed to do some volunteer work at a local grade school. We cleaned up and re-painted 2 basketball courts in Harlem. The work was managed by a public/private partnership of the NYC Parks Department. I was able to get some first hand knowledge on why we need volunteers so much.
The most interesting thing I noticed was how ill-prepared our Parks Department representative was. Leaves were all over the courts and needed to be removed. There were 3 men with small bags doing this work. Slowly. Clearly union work. I offered to grab some bags and start getting the leaves off, but was told no, these men would do it. After removing about one-eighth of all the leaves, they left. Gone, finished. Nothing left behind to finish the job of removing leaves. Our representative had all the tools we needed to paint - but we were going to have to paint with leaves in the way and blowing all over the courts. I saw, at the start, this was a clinic in how the government manages things.
Inquiring minds want to know. Here's ours, for around 23 people - family and friends:
Unknown hors d'oevres (my Sis brings) with Champagne.
Two turkeys, one in the oven with cornbread stuffing, and one on the grill. Extra stuffing. Gibier gravy. My Mom is making her famous artery-smoothing mashed potatoes with sour cream and cream cheese and chives etc in them (mashed potatoes like that plus regular red wine intake have kept my 85 year-old Dad alive and kicking thus far). Brussel Sprouts sauteed with bacon and shallots. String beans with almonds. Creamed baby onions. Sweet potatoes done somehow by my Bro. Mountains of various forms of Cranberry sauces (The best? Orange-Cranberry Relish). Corn pudding (from good dried corn like Cope's) from my M-in-law. Good red wine, cider, along with lots of Martinelli's for the teetotalers and an assortment of really good beers including Palm and some of the German Weissbraus that I have become fond of.
Pumpkin Pie made by Mrs. BD from fresh pumpkin, and Squash Pie from fresh Butternut squash. Apple Pies made by another Sis. Indian Pudding. Pumpkin Cheesecake. Ice cream and whipped cream on the side. Some decent Port for after, with cigars for the gents (and for any women who want them. As far as I know, Mrs. BD has not smoked a cigar since the Macanudo she rebelliously enjoyed at our wedding reception).
The best part? Everybody helps clean everything up after, and nobody leaves until it's all done. It gets like The Cat in the Hat around here. The strong men scrub the pots and pans and carry the rental tables and chairs out to the driveway. Our family - families - are like that: they seem to enjoy work and effort, and seek it out. If they can't find any work at hand to be done or any mess to be tidied, they go for a five mile run or split some firewood or build a wall or do something useful. None of my own kin will watch TV. It's Yankee blood. We do not do idle very well, even on vacation. Or especially on vacation. Maybe it's a flaw - but mess and idleness are the haunts and playthings of the devil. We can rest and "relax" all we want when we're dead. Until then, it's "Hi, Ho, Go, Go" as long as we can.
With a world so full of wonders and challenges, why leave a legacy of a dent in a sofa?
I am not sure what science has to do with ethics, or what they mean by science. Everything is called "science" now - political science, social science, etc.
I recently had a discussion with one of the hiring managers at my office, discussing an informational interview she'd had with a young fellow graduating from college. Good experience was all over his resume, plenty of jobs, references and the candidate played on a Div. 1 football squad. He was second team on defense, but he had an agent encouraging him to go pro. He had a good shot at making the NFL, either on a practice squad somewhere or possibly special teams, both offering the chance of better things.
He was a good student, too. As a result, he opted out of the NFL, and decided the working life was a better career choice. He was a bit tired of the culture of football. He loved it, but it's grinding work. He wanted to use other skills he'd developed. I don't blame him.
As the hiring manager and I spoke, she commented "Well, he has the added benefit of being diverse."
I looked at her and said, "What do you mean, exactly?"
"I think you know what I mean, he's ethnic."
"So he's black. You're telling me this makes him more qualified?"
"No, not more qualified, but you know how things are today. We have to remain conscious of this fact, diversity is so important in the workplace."
"Yes, I agree, it is important. But having me as part of the team doesn't make us more diverse? I'm curious if I'm diverse?"
"Well, you're diverse in terms of thought. You think in ways nobody else here does, but that's not what we focus on in diversity."
Why do Asians and Ashkenazi Jews seem to be so smart, multi-talented, and clever? Is it genetics, cultural, or both, or what?
Or do we just see the smartest of them in the USA? In any event, they often make those of us descended from northern European immigrant bumpkins seem a little slow on the uptake.
I agree with Penn and Teller. Prohibition does nothing but create criminals. Fortunately, most people do not want to be druggies because it is a lousy plan for a good, wholesome, dignified, and productive life. If you want to be a druggie, that's your problem, but don't do it on my nickel.
Many of the women who purport to speak for the modern woman sound as if testosterone were toxic. However, I wonder how many of them (the non-Lesbians, that is) would ever claim that they seek a husband who is timid, frail, non-physical, unforceful, indecisive, unauthoritative, unadventurous, passive rather than restless, and lacking in intellectual and sexual aggressiveness and vigor?
That is, excepting those who hit 100 on the dot as I probably do. The government must do something about this social injustice. For starters, they could make assortative mating illegal. It's all about Equality. All Americans must be at 100 (except our Government Masters, who are always the Smartest People in the World in the same way that the North Korean leaders are).
That came up because I did not know that household helpers make so much money these days. I do not think that a good butler, lady's maid, or estate manager would have a below-average IQ. These can be complex tasks which require juggling many topics. Who remembers the butler from Upstairs, Downstairs? He was good, the realistic adult in the family, the central role. And what about Jeeves?
OK, well perhaps a scullery maid would not need an average IQ but nobody in America has a scullery maid. In America, even the immigrant dishwashers have big ambitions, and rightly so.
A colleague at work confided in me, over beers, that he and his girl started out with nudist cruises but have "graduated" to "Lifestyle" Cruising. I had never heard of this.
Nudism cruises are fairly sedate, it seems, but for "Lifestyle" the organizers charter a cruise boat for a few days of an orgiastic circus.
Lose your inhibitions, etc., I suppose. It does not sound like a New England Yankee sort of thing. They make you bring a heterosexual date for sharing. I don't think these things exist for gays, but who knows?
It may seem odd to take advice from a cartoonist, but "Dilbert" is usually spot-on with its portrayal of the absurdities we run into here in the office ranks.
Scott Adams has a unique understanding of human nature. He also understands management reality, which he juxtaposes with the goal-based thoughts of standard office denizens. The result is a very humorous and informative strip.
His advice on how to manage your career is equally useful. Most of us are so far along, it may not benefit us at this stage of our careers. You're never too old to learn, though. My career improved after I made some alterations in office demeanor in my late 40's, and I continue to evolve.
I shared the linked article with my staff and my sons. It makes several points which I truly believe.
We have some number of readers who think NYC is Gomorrah. It's Gotham, not Gomorrah. I'm a country boy, but I love it and find the neighborhoods endlessly fascinating.
I spent yesterday overseeing a relative who had a procedure at the Hospital for Special Surgery. It's ranked #1 in the world for Orthopedics. I have rarely seen any place run in such a friendly, cheerful, efficient, and well-organized manner. Even their security people are full of Good Morning and Welcome and How Can I Help You?, etc.
A chilly day in New York. As various things were going on, I got out to stroll around 1st and 2nd Avenues a bit, on the Upper East Side of Manhattan in the pleasant but not fancy part of the East Side, and I made a wonderful new 83 year-old friend in the Ambulatory Surgery waiting area too. A retired Econ. Prof from Chicago with a remarkable life story but I won't go into it. Everybody has a story, don't they? His wife was getting a shoulder repair.
Tourists never see the Upper East Side, way over near the East River. Lots of people live and/or work there, but it's a hike to the Lexington Ave. line (The Second Ave. El was torn down in 1942, and has not been replaced yet).
Marianne used to enjoy these sort of pics - just a random street photo gallery -
The famous rebel spy Nathan Hale taught in this one-room school in East Haddam, CT (then a part of Moodus, CT), for a short while after graduating from Yale. He felt too isolated there, apparently, so took another teaching job in the city down in New London.
From The Brothers Karamazov (1879). The chapter is one of the most famous passages in literature, and it's time we re-linked it. 
What's on your menu? (re-posted) -
