Saturday and Sunday Soccer

If I've learned anything about my new found viewing habit of tunning into Saturday and Sunday morning Premier League soccer (football) games on the USA Network, it is that Leicester City is pronounced Less-ter City. Up until now, when I've seen the spelling Leicester I've pronounced it as lies-ter., rhyming with shyster. If you don't learn something everyday you're not paying attention.

I used to be dismissive of my son-in-law Tim's obsession with watching soccer. It struck me as an abandonment of all things American. I've long since changed my mind.

The soccer games are preceded by Premier League Mornings hosted by Rebecca Lowe, a no-nonsense, rapid talking anchor and the "two Robbies," Robbie Earle, Robbie Mustoe, with Tim Howard.

Rebecca is not a panda-eyed, fur coat wearing sideline reporter like Erin Andrews who, wearing what looked like a bear costume this weekend before the Fox network telecast of the Philadelphia Eagles and Washington Commanders football playoff game, had just climbed out of an animal cavity with Leonardo DiCaprio in the movie The Revenant, telling us who is in the medical tent with a taped pinkie. Erin was lucky she wasn't mistaken for wild game. If she dropped something and was on all fours trying to pick it up she might have been shot. No, Rebecca reports meaningful commentary.

Watching Premier League games we get all those lovely British  words that standout, like "top of the table," meaning leading in the standings. We hear of "relegation" an assignment to a lower division for clubs that don't win enough. The NFL should have that for the New York Jets. 

We have to get used to how points are awarded in the standings; one point for a tie, three for a win. And the home team is designated first in the matchup, not second.

I pretty much don't know where the cities are located for clubs playing in the Premier League. It is easy when City follows the name, not so obvious when the team is Bournemouth, Nottingham Forest, or my favorite, Brighton & Hove Albion, which is not a firm of personal injury lawyers (solicitors/barristers).

A soccer field, or pitch, is typically 115 yards long and 75 yards wide. The goal is a whopping 24' long and 8' feet high. Even with all those players on the field you would think there'd be more scoring, but no. The defense plays tough, and goaltenders actually make saves, acrobatic, really, unlike in lacrosse where every shot at a tiny net seems to find its way in. There can be 0-0 games; nil, nil. It's no wonder the fans go nuts when someone scores.

Scoring is generally low. I saw a recent game where Bournemouth won by 5-nil, but 5 goals is rare, even against a struggling club.

The game is played in 45 minute halves. Time is not called when there is a stoppage of play when someone is writhing in pain from a foul, genuine or not. Acting is part of the game.

There is "added time" to compensate for the stoppages. This is determined by sideline timekeepers, and is not announced until near the end of the half. Exploding scoreboards displaying all kinds of statistics are not needed. Generally, games take two hours total to finish. You can make reliable plans for after the game.

I found I like the game because it resembles hockey. The players try and cue the ball up like on a power play and create a shot on goal. The skill of the players dribbling a soccer ball is immense. The ball seems attached to their feet like a puck is to a stick. They seem to be magically able to keep the ball inbounds, skirting the end line like a windup car I had as a kid that would travel over a flat surface toward the edge as if it were going to go over the edge, but would then abruptly stop and turn around and not go over. A soccer player changes direction like how Bobby Orr did.

And the kicking is fierce. They can make that ball rocket like a slap shot from either foot. And the goaltenders! They can kick that soccer ball seemingly the length of the field to get the ball out of their end. It is no wonder that American place-kickers long ago started using the soccer-style kicking with the side of their foot.

The Gogolak brothers from Hungary were the first NFL soccer-style place-kickers. Pete played for the Buffalo Bills and the New York Giants in the '60s, and younger brother Charlie played for Washington and the New England Patriots. 

I always get a kick out how the coaching staffs are on the sidelines, seated in high back, Top Gun-like briefing room chairs, all dressed in black. I asked my son-in-law why are they always in black, and he replied because they're expecting to go to a funeral, their own, since soccer coaches get replaced  as quickly as diapers. Players change clubs, and coaches change clubs even more.

I have to say I don't really know the players very well except for Erling Haaland, a Norwegian player for Manchester City who just signed a 10-year multi-million dollar contract with Manchester City. To me, he is the most recognizable and my favorite. Aaron Judge. He crushes the ball into the net. He is nearly 200 pounds of lightning protoplasm, sports a man bun, and looks like he's 40 when he's only 24.

Young stars in soccer are common. There are teenagers who are signed with Premier League clubs. It's hard to imagine how good you have to be to be a teenager playing at that level. The mind boggles.

But best of all this is when the games are on, generally on the USA network sometimes as early as 7:30 A.M. our time, usually no later than 10 A.M. The time difference with England works in my viewing favor.

That means there is first-class sports on TV early in the morning on Saturdays and Sundays, at least until my wife wakes up, enters the kitchen and presses the mute button. Here comes the Mute Button. 

I just then go in the living room.

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First Lady Godfather

Why do I always start to hear the violin strains of the Godfather movie theme music by Nino Rota when I see Melania in the hat she wore at the inauguration? Why? I'll tell you why. Her look reminds me of Carlo Gambino, Brooklyn capo di capo until the youngsters in the organization got him to take a flu shot and rubbed him out medically. True or not, he passed away naturally in 1976 at 74 after a very long career at the top.

Melania beginning her second term as the nation's First Lady at the inauguration gave off a power look that told everyone who really got re-elected. Her. And The Donald is paying his respects.

It might be fitting that Melania's hat was designed by Eric Javits, a fashion designer who is the nephew of Jacob K. Javits, a 4-term Republican U.S. Senator from New York who passed away in 1986 and for whom the convention center on Manhattan's West Side is named after.

Does anyone remember what Hillary looked like at Bubba's first inauguration? She was pretty much a frump in a Woolworth ensemble that was topped off with a hat taken off a homeless person.  I think even Bill wondered who she was. 

I'm sure it's not fair to compare Melania to Hillary in fashion style. Melanie was a former model who makes wearing anything seem like a fashion statement. Women have been wearing baseball-style caps ever since Lauren Hutton developed the look, but Melanie looks no less stylish wearing one when accompanying The Donald on his recent disaster relief tour of the U.S.

We know everyone is looking at what is being worn at events as historic as an inauguration. Consider Mark Zuckerberg not being able to resist being a teenage boy and sneaking a look at Lauren Sánchez's appealing lingerie clad bosom. And he's not the only one trying to cop a peek. The photo of course went viral, and contributed to my daughter's opinion of Lauren as being a New Mexico pool toy.

The official First Lady photo has just been released for 2025. Melanie has a Chairman of the Board look befitting a Godfather image. You can't help but hear the theme.

She looks like a real estate tycoon selling multi-million dollar properties overlooking Central Park. Duplexes, of course.

Heavy is the head that wears the hat.

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Ghost Towns

I should have realized the recent A-Hed piece in the WSJ that starts off with a Ghost Town in Italy was not going to be about what I think of when I hear the words "ghost town." There are at least two definitions.

The one I think about is some dusty, tumbleweed outpost in Arizona, Utah, New Mexico, Wyoming, Nevada, Colorado, Oregon, Montana or California that contains a few wooden buildings of warped clapboard that are just about falling down, that were once the center of life when the veins in the local mines were producing, or the railroad was still running and making stops. It's Black Rock, with no one in it.

Then there are ghost towns that are said to possess manifestations of paranormal happenings, ghosts, the spooky Halloween kind. These ghost towns have places for you to stay in the with the hopes that your luggage will unpack itself, or there will be a knock on your door in the middle of the night and no one will be there. Haunted.

The A-Hed piece headline and sub-headline go: Travelers Discover Vacationing In a Ghost Town Can Be Grim: Abandoned locales pitch longer stays, but visitors say that's too spooky.

The story opens with a traveler visiting Fossa, Italy, "a town deep in the middle of the country that was abandoned after a 2009 earthquake. Hardly a gunslinger Western locale that had dancing girls in the saloon, roulette wheels and card tables, and the occasional shootout.  

It took Ramy Awad and his fellow travelers three days to find Fossa. GPS directions kept sending them in circles. They heard voices, but were followed around by a drone that flew overhead for the next three days. At that point they got out of Dodge.

There is nothing that no one keeps track of, and that includes ghost towns. We love numbers. The  reporter Kailyn Rhone tells us in the States there are more than 3,800 deserted towns, according to "a company that provides data analytics, including GPS locations, Geotab."

Geotab open to a website of stunning photos and a narrative about the abandoned places in America's West. You really could plan a vacation with these place on the itinerary.

Berlin, Nevada

Thus, there are ghost town hunters who are looking to have their like to amble through town and take lots of pictures.

Kailyn Rhone describes a pair of women who sought out Gunslinger Gulch, Montana. I love trying to see that places might look like using Google Earth. Gunslinger Gulch, on the outskirts of Anaconda, Montana they stayed in 1880s-style cabins and joined in for a "ghost hunt."  When one of them felt themselves being pulled out of bed they considered cutting their stay short, but stayed for the days they paid for. Isn't that what they wanted? To be scared to death? Stay longer.

Google Earth doesn't come down to details, but does show a few buildings at the foot of some mountains. It does look like it's in the middle of nowhere. In fact, it would be the definition of nowhere.

Want to buy a ghost town? You can. Asking about ghost towns for sale yield a website that offers a few: $250,000-$1.25 million, complete with numerous abandoned buildings and even a few squatters. There is nothing that can't be bought.  

Considering Geotab claims that there are 3,800 ghost towns, the few that are for sale shows you that the towns are either owned by the public, or privately held.

Go west, while supplies last.

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#postboxsaturday2

I can't get enough of those madcap Brits and Aussies and their mailboxes.

Following the Bluesky postings of someone who responded to my first take on this subject, I'm finding even more photos of decorative street furniture. Who knew mailing your letters could be so photographable?

Here's a sampling:

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Uncanny

Usually when two people who are entertainment celebrities pass away at about the same time someone will invariably say, "There will be a third one soon. Death comes in threes."

Sometimes it does seem that way. While there are those who don't think there are coincidences, there are coincidences. What I don't think is a coincidence is the online NYT obituary placing of the photos of two women who have recently passed away. To me, they look alike, even down to their hair, which I think is where the resemblance starts.

The first image is of  Cecile Richards, former Planned Parenthood president who has passed away at 67. The second image is of Claire van Kampen, playwright and arranger of early music world who has passed away at 71.

Don't tell me there no resemblance.

As I've stated in a prior posting, the first thing I do when I sign on in the morning is check for overnight email, but also check who might have freshly passed away by calling up the online edition of the NYT.

I look online first despite the fact that a freshly delivered print edition has landed in the driveway. I know from experience that obits can show up online before they gain entry to the print edition pages. I commented on this is in a posting last year: The Dead Are Waiting.

I first saw Ms. Richards obit online a few days ago. It has yet to hit the print edition, while Ms. van Kampen's is in today's print edition, on page B11, without using the online head shot. Thus, the print readers will not see the juxtaposition of two deceased women who bear a strong resemblance to each other with their photos stacked in an online edition layout. Don't tell me the editor didn't plan it that way.

It can be fun to see what similarities might occur on the obit page. Sometimes it seems two Nobel winners, who you've likely never heard of, get a tribute obit on the same day. Obits for Nobel winners always make me feel terribly under-educated.

My own diploma awarded education stopped at high school. I did attend college—two in fact—but quickly made the decision that I felt that drinking beer, earning a pay check in an office job and being a regular at New York Ranger home games and the finish line at Aqueduct and Belmont racetracks was where I wanted to be. As the song goes, I did it my way.

Take a recent obit for J. Fraser Stoddart, 82, Who Built Machines out of Molecules. You know from the headline alone that this guy didn't spend his time drinking beer, agonizing over Ranger games, or tearing up or cashing tickets at Aqueduct and Belmont racetracks. He of course won a Nobel Prize.

And that thing about "machines out of molecules" makes me wonder if I'm going to understand anything about this guy's achievements. But here goes.

Mr. Stoddart received his Nobel prize in 2016 after he and his colleagues "figured out how to build molecules with physical bonds; these molecules became the building blocks for nanomachines." Okay, he's not making weapons from 3-D printers.

Mr. Stoddart was born in Edinburgh, Scotland and was raised on a farm. As a kid he was given a Meccano set, a model construction set popular in Britain at the time. Here, J. Fraser and myself have something in common. I played with wooden blocks and an Erector set, metal pieces that allowed you to build toy superstructures, like bridges and elevators.  So far it seems we had similar Christmas gifts.

He liked to take things apart and put them back together. And growing up on a farm to learned to repair farm equipment. He became a mechanic.

He attended Melville College, an elite boys school in Edinburgh. In his third year at Edinburgh University his professor  made him part of a research group, "looking into the structural complexities of acacia plant gums." Who knew that was a thing?

After graduating Edinburgh University in 1964 he earned a Ph.D. in two years. His life and mine diverged waaaay back there when he left the farm. And just think, we each got construction sets for Christmas.

In 1990 he was hired by the University of  Birmingham where he synthesized a rotaxane. Nothing in the obit tells us what a rotaxane is, but Google tells us:

"Rotaxanes have significant applications in creating molecular machines, switches, electronic devices, nanostructures, and drug delivery systems."

In there is a clue as to why this is important stuff: the delivery system for drugs sounds like a scientific advancement to help make us all get better from something, and therefore deserving of a Nobel prize. Congrats to Dr. Stoddart.

Okay, but did he ever see a Rod Gilbert slap shot go into the net, or pick an exacta from a race run over a sloppy track while drinking a beer?

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#postboxsaturday

Jen from Australia (@jenking.bsky.social) has been contributing to the common BlueSky site #postboxsaturday. I think it might have also been on Twitter, but Jen has changed platforms.

She's recently posted a photo of their "Postie" who collects the mail while riding a motorbike on their route.

I'm unable to post a picture of her own residential mailbox that is in the shape of a barn, which to me, inexplicably has U S Mail on the drop down door, because  Jen posted it as a video, with audio, that shows a fair size spider inside that looks like a small drone. We have snail mail, they have spider mail.

I of course commented and asked if it she bug sprayed it into oblivion. Turns out Jen knows her spiders, and responded that it was a common garden Huntsman spider that Jen just allowed to go free by leaving the mailbox door open. Catch and release for spiders.

But the real entertainment is the variety of shapes and sizes of the mailboxes in Australia and the UK for residents to deposit their mail in. The above pair of boxes at the top of this posting look like two Fisher-Price Peg People on steroids.

A UK Lyndhurst Hampshire resident contributed a photo of pair of boxes designated GR and EIIR. Google to the rescue. GR stands for:

" A GR UK mailbox is a red post box with the letters GR that was erected during the reign of King George V [1910- 1936]. The GR stand for the Latin name of King George, Georgius Rex, initials of King George V."

Leave it to the Brits to immortalize their Royalty with mailboxes. Makes you wonder what a Teddy Roosevelt mailbox would look like here in the States.

The EIIR stands for:

"An EIIR mailbox is a post box that features the royal cypher of Queen Elizabeth II, with is EIIR. The cypher is made up of the letters ER which stands for 'Elizabeth Regina' (Latin for "Queen"), and the Roman numerals II which represent the Queen's reign number."

Imagine if the U.S. Postal Service decided to commemorate the Super Bowl by designating mailboxes in the Roman numerical designation of the Super Bowl. Obviously, some cities would have more than one commemorative mailbox. It's just an idea.

Take a tour of the #postboxsaturday photos and you get a wide photo array of objects to deposit your mail in.

This one might be my favorite. It's a UK mailbox that to me affords a dog being walked a great circumference to sniff and raise its leg against and pee on. I wonder if you have to hold your nose when mailing your bills.

Here's another one that comes close to reminding me of what the mailbox a block from our house in Flushing looked like, and where I mailed my mom's letters.

The U.S. version of this mailbox is no longer found, but it was olive drab, mounted on a post. A neighbor's Christmas card to us in the '50s showed their son Billy standing next to it shoving the cards inside.

Which reminds me that what goes around comes around again. The mailbox of the' 50s could only accommodate a few envelopes at a time being inserted. You might have to keep feeding it because the drop down lid didn't create much of an opening. Somewhat like the coin return on pay phones of the era.

Eventually these mail boxes were replaced by those that could take even small packages. The drop down door allowed a wide maw to swallow mail. I think after 9/11 these were phased out and now only one envelope at a time can be inserted. I'm guessing this a deterrent to stuffing the mailbox with unwanted things, possible explosives.

There doesn't seem to be any end to what these Aussies and Brits can do with their mailboxes. I mean, would anyone here in the States take to knitting tops for their favorite mailbox?

I have to think someone has compiled photos and turned it into a coffee table book. I wonder. The inventiveness is charming.

It seems mailboxes can be mounted on just about anything. Some get imbedded into garden walls, others get a chimney look. The ones in walls look like fire alarm pull boxes that NYC once had on street corners that contributed to a rash of false alarms being set off by "playful" kids. The police and fire department now rely on cell or landline phone communication by the caller. A call from the street is sometimes complicated by the caller not knowing exactly the street location they are calling from. A hard wired box sent a more reliable location.

All in all, a piece of street furniture seems to have more character in Australia and the UK than it does here.

Maybe we're just dull.

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Australian Tourism Board

Would you consider visiting country that can be depicted as if an outbreak of measles has overtaken the eastern half?

Now that my Australian Twitter pal has established contact again through Bluesky (@jenking.bsky.social) she can't stop thinking of me when she comes across another spider or snake story, which I suspect in Australia is most of the time. It's got to be like waking up to news and daily traffic and weather reports.

The above map is of course not depicting an outbreak of measles in Australia. It is however depicting where the invasive, pesky brown snakes can be found in abundant numbers.

Jen's latest Bluesky posting leads me to an Australian site that actually lets you type in a critter and get a narrative all about them. Great photos as well.

Jen's posting goes like this:

"Anytime I see a snake story I think of you.
@jdemet.bsky.social

...and I know you'll appreciate it too. This photo strikes terror—and awe—into my heart. The eastern brown is one of our deadliest snakes."
https://australian.museum/learn/animals/reptiles/eastern-brown-snake/

I've got to say, they look like a bucket full of eels. And there are people who eat eels. But I doubt there are people who eat snakes.

Jen gets a kick out of how I feel for Australians who have to put up with such slimy and sneaky critters. Jen once sent me a photo of a python—yes, a python!—that took up residence in her yard. She lives in the suburbs, and not on some dusty Outback cattle station. I had no choice but do a posting on it.

Greenland has been in the news lately here in the United  States. President-elect Donald Trump has expressed a strong desire to buy the place from Denmark. He is as serious as a heart attack. This too got a posting.

When Greenland became a news item they told us it was the world's largest island. I thought to myself, what about Australia?

Turns out since Australia, although surrounded by water, is considered a continent, and a continent cannot be an island. Continent trumps island. Or, if President-elect Trump as President gets Greenland, it will be Trump trumps Greenland. Stay tuned. We always live in interesting times.

I remember as a kid visiting the Bronx Zoo and seeing the snakes behind the glass in the Snake House. I don't even know if they still exhibit them, but I do remember I didn't like them, even behind glass.

Jen of course reminded me of snakes just last week when she kinked a story from The Guardian that made her think it was time to check her medicine chest for snake bandages. Another posting followed.

Spiders of course are another Australian distraction. Not like the ones we get here who spin webs on the side of your house that you walk into on summer evenings and have to wipe from your face. No, they have the kind that can literally kill you.

It's summertime Down Under, and they're having lots of fun.

They used to say of New York two things: One was, "it might turn out to be a nice place when they finish it". The other, not that complimentary: "It's a nice place to visit but I wouldn't want to live there."

Yeah?

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college educated.

Katherine nursed Orville back to health after a test flight crashed and a co-pilot was killed. She accompanied the brothers on their tour of France and charmed the press and public. The brothers, being shy,  were not well received. But she was charming, spoke French and otherwise was the best PR "man" the brothers could have asked for. Many in France thought she was the real brains behind the brothers.

And while the brothers were shy, she wasn't. She met with the kings and leaders of France, Italy, Spain and England when they toured Europe promoting the plane and the company. Her brothers and her were awarded the French Legion of Honor. She negotiated the contracts for building the planes.

She was likely the first woman to fly in a plane, accompanying Orville on at least three test flights in 1909.

Wilbur and Orville were confirmed bachelors, and apparently Orville resented the sister for marrying and raising a family. He eventually ceased talking to her. 

But while they were on good terms, Orville said of his sister: "When the world speaks of the Wrights it should include my sister. Much of our efforts have been inspired by her."

Katherine has ticked all the boxes for "'Overlooked No More" consideration. And while I doubt the U.S. Postal Service will issue a commemorative stamp in her honor at this point, she should make the short list for the next round of NYT "Overlooked No More" obits.

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Talk About Overlooked

There are many ways to learn something you didn't know. And Jeopardy clues are one of them.

Being of a septuagenarian age I of course have heard of the Wright brothers, Wilbur and Orville who from their bicycle shop in Dayton, Ohio tinkered around enough that they became the first to develop and fly a motorized aircraft, becoming airborne on a flight from the sand dunes of Kitty Hawk, North Carolina in 1903. Thus, North Carolina's license plates that brag: First in Flight.

It is hard to imagine that a Jeopardy clue on December 26, 2023 under the category Destiny's Other Children: $400: Last name of Katherine seen here; [image appears] an educator & suffragist, she became a celebrity like her two brothers that no one would answer Wright when seeing the image. To me, the mind boggles, but then again, my history lessons started sometime in the 1950s. The $400 value of the clue was itself a clue that the answer should be obvious. I guess not.

Okay, I never heard about the sister, but that's because woman of the early 20th-century were not much paid attention to, unless they accompany their brothers to France and speak French, charming the press and citizens of France. I would have at least gotten the answer by looking the photo. And now I have gained some great knowledge about Katherine that she should surely be added to the NYT list of people to get an overdue obituary in the Overlooked No More feature.

ChatGPT tells us: 

The Wright brothers, Orville and Wilbur, had a younger sister named Katharine Wright. She was born on August 19, 1874, in Dayton, Ohio, and was an important figure in her brothers' lives and their work.

Katharine was supportive of her brothers' aeronautical endeavors, and although she did not participate directly in the mechanical or engineering aspects of their work, she was crucial in other ways. She helped with administrative tasks, correspondence, and even occasionally acted as a secretary or assistant. After their father's death in 1917, Katharine played a significant role in managing the family’s affairs and their business interests, including working as a spokeswoman for the Wright brothers' achievements.

Katharine Wright was also well-educated, having attended Oberlin College, and was highly regarded for her intelligence and independence. She lived a long life, passing away on March 3, 1929

Typical of the female in the family that when the mother dies she become the domestic. And this was certainly true for Katherine. Despite her college education at Oberlin and her teaching position she acted as the chief cook, bottle washer, road and business manager for the brothers.

Katherine was the youngest of the seven children of Milton and Susan Wright. Her father was a Baptist preacher, and her mother was 

A Lifetime Supply

I need to buy staples for my two staplers at home. I suspect it's going to be a supply that will last a lifetime.

This week I will cross the mid-point of being a septuagenarian. So anything I buy that might come in a quantity that's not likely to be fully consumed before I pass on will likely be part of my estate. Can you bequeath staples when you pass?

Retiring from office work over a decade ago means not having access to the supply cabinet and helping myself to a five-finger employee benefit. I have to go out and buy the stuff myself. Who knew what those filing folders cost until you had to use your own money?

Swingline Staples was a factory in Long Island City that was always passed by when riding the LIRR or taking the No.7 Flushing subway train.  The building is still there, but it's not a Swingline factory any more

When the factory was viewed at night there was an animated neon sign that was great to look at as the train passed by. The stapler top was cocked back and the neon flashing sign depicted staples being loaded. I loved that sign.

When riding the No. 7 train it swings at a sharp angle when passing the factory. The train tilts, slows down, and you almost feel you can touch the factory windows as you pass through the 33rd/Rawson Street station.

Long Island city used to have lots of factories. Sunshine Biscuits, Black Jack gum, Breyers ice cream, Eagle Electric and  Silvercup bread. The Silvercup sign is still there for what is now Silvercup Studios,  producing TV shows, but the pleasant aroma of fresh baked bread is long gone.

A box of staples has 5000 staples; 210 per metal strip. That's a lot of staples for a pair of people in their 70s to go through. We're going to leave a lot behind.

I have no problem with needing to buy a box of staples. I can still buy a single box. This is not always true when you need something.

We've heard of "deflation" in the sense that quantities have been downsized with prices reaming the same, or even being increased. Paying the same but getting less for your money. Two liters is 1½ liters, 16 oz, a pound, is not a pound. When shopping my wife always says: "Thanks Joe." She's not been a fan of the outgoing president.

I needed a new toothbrush. It is very hard to buy a single toothbrush. They come in two packs, or even more. I settled on the two pack because it didn't really make me spend a lot of money, plus I had one of those great money off CVS coupons.

I've also needed toothpaste to go with the toothbrushes. Here I've conceded the 3-pack is worth it because of the unit pricing and the fact that I'm likely to work my way through all three tubes with a decent regimen of brushing, especially since I'm not now suffering from any life-threatening ailments.

Shipping tape refills for the constantly needed shipping tape for my wife to attach return, postage paid labels to all the things she buys online, but then returns, come in pairs, or even 5 packs. You can get the single rolls already in a dispenser, but the refill rolls for the desktop dispenser are preferably for us. We are an industrial return center. When I had to buy Teflon tape for the propane tank hookup (no longer needed) I had to buy 5 rolls.

And so it goes. I call this "quantification."

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Greenland

Can Donald Trump as president of the United States acquire Greenland and add it to the U.S. as a possession, even making it a state? If so, he will again be demonstrating that old real estate refrain: location, location, location.

The King of Denmark has just changed the Danish coat of arms to more prominently show that Greenland is a possession of Denmark.

Greenland seems like an odd choice to add to a Trump real estate holding, even if he does it in the name of expanding the United States. I don't think you can play golf there year round. But, think of the chance for professional sports to expand, even if the land mass now only has perhaps 56,000 people and untold reindeer. 56,000 people is not even the size of a tortured crowd at a Jets home game.

Would the NBA, NFL, NHL and MLB look to build stadiums so that they can flood the market with more home team merchandise? Who cares if no one can get to a game?. Wearing a piece of apparel might be enough.

Strategically Greenland offers a place to install more defenses to keep track of Russia. A good friend of mine was in the Air Force in the 1960s and spent a tour of duty in Thule, Greenland at a radar station, basically sleeping and drinking. He told me those who sleep and drink also serve.

As a kid I always wondered about that land mass stuck up there in the Artic Circle, straddling the 60th and 70th parallels when I would look at my bedroom globe. It looked so large with no markings of a population that was occupying it.

How The Donald would acquire Greenland is one for the strategists. Invading it would be taking action against a NATO nation—namely Denmark. This would mean other NATO nations would be obligated to come to Denmark's defense against the United States. Talk about pissing off your Allies. 

This is not a Saturday Night Live skit, although I think there will be one. Putting Greenland under the flag of the U.S. is getting front page NYT news. There are serious people writing about this.

I don't remember any campaign promises to acquire Greenland. Maybe the Donald means to open the southern border and ship the migrants to a U.S. version of Siberia. That  might quell any desire of a warm weather populace taking the chance of being sent somewhere to freeze their tacos off. No one wants to freeze heir tacos off. Is there method in prince Hamlet's madness?

After all, Australia was once a penal colony. It is possible that a few generations from now surnames in Greenland will have a distinct Hispanic sound. The Great Migration.

Face it. Trump was missed. There is no one better at creating a headline than The Donald. Ratings for the moribund woke, left-leaning media, CNN and MSNBC and other outlets should enjoy a resurgence in ratings as they rail against President Trump. Trump news/opinions is good for ratings.

Years ago Regis Philbin was considered the man who saved a network when his hosting of the prime time game show 'Who Wants to be A Millionaire' took off in the ratings. The show's ratings soared so much I think they went to three shows a week. Regis was hot.

Note:

I always wondered about that show if some sort of scandal was going to bring it down. Not because anyone was fed answers ahead of time, like what did the quiz show 'Twenty-One' in years ago, but because it seemed to me that an inordinate number of people were getting called for the qualifying opening "Lightning Round" who all hailed from Great Neck, New York. The contestant pool struck me as New York biased, and was likely due to irregularities in who was chosen to appear in the "Fast Finger" exercise that if passed qualified the contestant to move on to what might be a $1 million payday. No such scandal ever emerged however.

President Trump is who is going to save several networks and print publications. Consider a teaser headline in a recent online edition of the NYT:

Dripping Faucets and Seizing Greenland: Trump is Back and Chaos Ensues. They love it!

https://www.nytimes.com/2025/01/07/us/politics/panama-greenland-trump-media.html?auth=login-google1tap&login=google1tap

One of my favorite newspapers, the New York Post creates headlines that are priceless. I never subscribed to the Post, but started when the NYT basically eliminated local sports coverage and outsourced their writing to The Athletic. Interesting that now The Athletic writers want to join the Times union. Whatever happens, I don't think local sports coverage will resume. the Post is No 1 for reporting local sports. All sports, actually

A Post headline is a work of art and words. Consider the recent one that shows an image of an impish, smirking Trump pointing to a map of North America like Alfred E. Neuman on a Mad magazine cover, and renaming Canada as the 51st STATE; Greenland as OUR LAND; the Gulf of Mexico as the GULF OF AMERICA, and the Panama Canal as PANA-MAGA canal. It is inspired.

The headline says it all, but might be over the heads of those whose history education fell short of mentioning The Monroe Doctrine (Look it up if you don't know).

Who knew when Trump was running for office that he was going to go Green?

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I Checked. Not Found in Our CVS

It was either the Thursday or Friday after Christmas that an unmistakable Christmas card landed in the mailbox. The card was addressed in what looked like familiar print, but I couldn't immediately place it. There was no return address. The postage however was from Australia, and could only mean one thing: Jen from Australia got my Christmas card and mailed me one.

What created a little excitement was that Jen's Twitter account disappeared and she wasn't heard from. Turns out I didn't have a reliable email address, nor did she have mine, so what we were experiencing was a "failure to communicate."

The Twitter account disappeared in early December. I theorized she might have migrated to Bluesky, but either I didn't know how to search that platform, or they have a slightly different way of connecting with subjects. Either way, I was in the dark until Jen's cheery card showed up and announced her Bluesky handle and a reliable email address.

Jen's a retired OR nurse, freelance obituary writer, marriage celebrant, and I've been communicating with her for several years now. I met her and her husband once in Penn Station when she came to the States while changing trains to go to the White House and and tour the press facilities.

Jen will post photos now and then of what Australia is famous for: snakes and spiders. Snakes in her yard, snakes behind the refrigerator, snakes where you don't want to run into snakes. Frogs, reptiles, and even some kangaroos coming down the block have made an appearance in her past Twitter feeds. It would have been a shame to see that kind of entertainment disappear.

But now we are reunited through Bluesky, taking her advice and registering myself. It's summer Down Under, and it didn't take Jen long to post the above photo from a story in the Guardian that reminded her to check her medicine cabinet for a fresh supply of snake bandages. Yep, something they don't advertise on New York television.

Snakes and funnel-web spiders. Make sure you're protected. Here it's mosquito bites. Itchy, but not potentially deadly.

After laying eyes on the Guardian's story for the Down Under summer health tips, Jen's Bluesky narrative went:

Ummmm, we live surrounded by snakes of various kinds in our garden, some which I've seen close up, others from afar. Will be reading this very carefully and checking that I know where my snake bandages are.

It's good to know there's something I do not have to worry about in New York.

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January 1, 2025

As reliable as a sunrise or a sunset, William McDonald, the New York Times obituary editor, has presented us with his year-end summary of those who passed away in 2024 and got a tribute obit in the NYT.

I must say, I first thought those who rely on reading the print edition were going to be shortchanged by advance parts of the two-page spread appearing online. I thought that maybe the weaning off of print was going to include the year-end summary. But Mr. McDonald came through. Thanks Bill.

For those who may not know what the "two-page spread" looks like because they only read the paper online, I'll describe it to you.

Two full pages...90 black and white head shots, generally 1½ square inches, arranged in categories of the field in which they gained their fame, e.g. Sports,  Stage and Screen...

Text by Mr. McDonald that in a few words adds grace to the chosen of the already outstanding to their  achievements, such as:

Rickey Henderson...whose lightning speed on the basepaths had him practically sliding into the Hall of Fame on his belly.

Aleksei Navalny...a man of courage who championed democracy in his country, his native Russia, that does all it can to suppress it.

Joyce Randolph, the last of "The Honeymooners," harked back to the broad, zany TV humor of the 1950s.

Ruth Westheimer, that chirpy sex and romance counselor, devoted decades to schooling her fans in, well, other kinds of exertion.

I've sure I read every one of the obituaries of the 90 people pictured, and then some. I will admit that looking at the photos I was surprised that I was reminded that the subject passed away.

I had forgotten Ruth Westheimer went in 2024, as did Phil Donahue, Joseph Lieberman, Joyce Randolph, Bill Walton, and probably some others.

As I listen to the music I've downloaded on my iPods I always think of how many recording artists I'm listening to who are no longer alive. Frank Sinatra went decades ago, Melanie this year. Harry Belafonte and Tony Bennett in 2023. It's a bit of a long list.

I can write this on the first day of 2025 because I have so far survived being born, headed past the mid-point of being a septuagenarian in a few weeks.

The world will always present highs and lows. These are always interesting times. With the political saber rattling of nations I do start to wonder if I'll live to see nuclear weapons used on a population again? I think about that one a lot. 

Around this point in a New Year I ask myself two questions: How high do the numbers go? How bad can the year have been if you're alive at the end of it?

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