It's not that easy bein' meme.

Busy week in the compound, which means it's time for more memes! 

Ah, just kidding -- steal 'em all you want. 

Chatty appliances.

The other day my wife was downstairs and was sure she heard me grumbling in the next room, but I was not even in the house. I was outside with the dog. This was the complainer she heard:

It's funny in part because there would have been no question had this been our old dishwasher, the one that came with the house. That thing was so loud you had to raise your voice to be heard over it. The one we got later, the Bosch, is quiet, but you can just hear it from the next room. And what you hear, I guess, can sound like someone grumbling in the kitchen.

Certainly I can be heard grumbling, mumbling, bitching, and moaning at almost any hour of the day. It's what I do. I observe life, observe my condition, observe my own reactions to it, and utter low sentences for my own complaint or amusement or clarification. I'm the star of my own low-talking show. I'm often asked what I was saying, when what I was saying was not intended for anyone else's ears. 

Mumbling for comic effect probably only came to prominence after the invention of the microphone. Mumbling on stage would be difficult for an audience to follow. In older plays, a character might make asides to the audience to show what he or she is thinking, but those were usually comic or at least pithy observations, not the endless grumble of a muttering character. One of the first comedic mumblers I know of was a Peter Sellers Goon Show character, Willium "Mate" Cobblers, who could even be heard complaining in a low tone while other characters were supposed to be the ones speaking. 

Having determined that it was the dishwasher that was talking, I had to supply its dialogue. 

"Washin' the same damn bowl every day... You got just one cereal bowl, cheapskates?... Every day I gotta do the dog bowls and he never says nuthin'.... Thankless job.... Hate the way them forks poke me in the side when the water goes around.... Y'all usin' that cheap-ass basic Finish instead of the deluxe stuff.... I know what the mannufacterer said but he don' know nuthin'.... Take theses doggone plates and stuff 'em, that's what you can do...."

Of course, I hope the dishwasher is not that much of a malcontent. Goodness knows we rely on it heavily, and that only the air conditioner comes close to its place as a beloved fixture of the home. We lived without one for years, and we're not doing that again. 

Repeat the Beatles?

I know private jets are expensive, but at their age I hope Sir Paul and Sir Ringo are not so in need of money that they had to extrude a new Beatles song, using a Lennon demo tape and a failed Harrison guitar track. 

McCartney recently had to defend the project against allegations that artificial intelligence was being used to re-create the talents of the deceased Beatles, saying that "nothing has been artificially or synthetically created". The story goes that the reason this song was not released in 1995, along with "Real Love" and "Free as a Bird," is that John's vocal track was messed up, but AI has now solved that problem.  

I have issues.

I know -- Mr. Killjoy.

 

First, as Ed Driscoll wrote on Insty's page, 

A demo recording is a way for an artist to explore his ideas for a song, and/or to give to his backing musicians to learn a song’s riff or chord progression. On a demo, often he’s not singing with as much effort as he would give a polished recording designed for wide commercial release.

Ed also quotes Ian MacDonald on the 1995 project: 

Unimpressed with the quality of these two ‘reunion’ tracks, Harrison declined to have anything to do with Lennon’s third demo, which consequently remains in its original state and was not included on Anthology 3, as originally planned.

But Harrison did try to noodle around with the cut and was unhappy with the results. Nevertheless, whatever he did is going to be on the new record.

According to Charles Cooke writing in National Review,  

As an application of artificial intelligence, making a badly recorded vocal performance “pure” is fairly benign — equivalent in some sense to cleaning dirty tapes, remixing a recording for stereo, or remastering it for new media. But AI does not — and it will not — end there. For both audio and video, AI can be used as a simulation tool, which an operator can use to sample a given voice or physical appearance and then create something entirely novel from the results. If we are not there already, we are getting close to the point at which a director could make a movie with a deceased actor in the lead role and at which a record producer could generate a full album’s worth of material “by” an artist who is now unable to record a note.

You may recall how in 1997 Fred Astaire's moving image was used in a series of Dirt Devil commercials, showing him dancing with the brand's vacuum cleaner. There was outcry against that at the time, and that's nothing compared to what's on the horizon. 

For the Beatles project, Sir Paul says there's nothing fake about the AI used on Lennon's voice -- but he could say that honestly even if the AI used a pile of Lennon recordings, stealing a morpheme here and there and combining them to make Lennon sing the Malaysian National Anthem or whatever else you want. It's John's voice, just "remixed." Deepfakes are showing us how it's done, using existing images of famous people and merging them to make videos. A voice may be that much easier to fake with the actual sound of a person's voice, given a large enough dataset. 

So, in effect, the upcoming song required unheard-of amounts of electronic fooling, was rejected the first time around by the now-deceased George, was something Lennon made three years before he was killed and apparently didn't think it met his own standards for publication, and will be mixed not as a Beatles song would have been done but as a McCartney (and I guess Starr) song. 

I'm not terribly excited. 

And look, if we're going to start screwing about with Beatles stuff using artificial intelligence, how about correcting some past problems? For example: 

🎵 "Within You Without You" -- Did anyone not stoned ever enjoy this five-minute brick in the middle of Sgt. Pepper? I much preferred Big Daddy's take, doing it as a beatnik bongo number. It was still boring, but it was less than two minutes long. 

🎵 "She's Leaving Home" -- Always wanted a more realistic take on the last verse, like: 

Sheeeeee... is lying... in a diiiiiiiiiitch...

🎵 "Revolution 9" -- Could be replaced by something more interesting. Like, a blank soundtrack, or an apology. 

🎵 "Sun King" -- Maybe we could speed it up a bunch? Might be a passable song played at 45.

🎵 "Boys" -- It has never been clear to me why Ringo sang this song by the Shirelles on the Please Please Me album. Maybe we could dub in the Shirelles singing. Or just dub in their whole song. 

You laugh -- ha! ha! -- but it seems that AI is destined to be used to exploit the past -- and to "correct" errors of the past, the way censorship is being used to "correct" undesirable things in old movies and books nowadays. If our barbarous overloads are determined to destroy the past, maybe we could at least make it sound more pleasant first.  

Fail safe?

 

Business writing, song, dog.

Continuing the theme of clarity in writing we began yesterday, I thought I would pass along some advice on business writing in the modern era. There are two key things you should bear in mind at all times whenever you are engaged in business communications. People are taught these in school, but we could always use a refresher.  

The first is: Clarity is king. The e-mail, cover letter, formal request, summary report -- none of these is an appropriate place to go into a Song of Myself. You may use some style, a little razzle-dazzle if it highlights the message, but stick to the point and leave personalities out of it. If clarity is king, brevity is his viceroy. Don't give your audience time to get bored. 

As an example, I would like to use the clear and brief instructions in the chorus of that seminal hit by Jim Stafford, "Don't Pet the Dog." 

Don't pet the dog, don't pet him whatever you do

'Cause he ain't been fixed, he knows some tricks

That'll sure make a fool out of you

Don't pet the dog, he gets it confused with romance

Don't tickle his sides or look deep in his eyes

Or he'll be taking your leg to the dance

Six simple lines that convey clear, crucial information. The first line is a simple declarative statement, repeated and emphasized to impress its importance: 

Don't pet the dog, don't pet him whatever you do

The next sentences outline the source of the issue, and hints at the consequences of ignoring same:

'Cause he ain't been fixed, he knows some tricks

That'll sure make a fool out of you

The fourth line explains the problem in a little more detail, explaining the current state of the problem:

Don't pet the dog, he gets it confused with romance

And finally, the last two lines add more detail of the range of the warning and the depth of trouble for those failing to heed it: 

Don't tickle his sides or look deep in his eyes

Or he'll be taking your leg to the dance

You can see how effective this short message is. The verses go into greater detail, but you can think of that as the full report; the chorus is like the executive summary. 

The second piece of advice is: Be careful. 

Another reason to be brief, if not terse, in writing for work is that you probably would like to leave your job on your own terms rather than be defenestrated. Do not give in to the temptation to spice things up with a little levity or gossip. Companies are so terrified about being sued by their oversensitive and high-strung workers that they want us all to spy on one another like the Stasi and report the slightest infraction to human resources. Written communications can and will be presented at your drumming-out.

That e-mail you sent your best work buddy Bob, the one with the blonde joke? Someone looking over Bob's shoulder is going to report you for it, and maybe him as well for laughing at it. There is no freedom of speech. There will be no right to confront your accuser. The only question will be how big a box you will need for your desk tchotchkes, and whether you'll be escorted out by security. It really is like penny-ante East Berlin out there. 

It's funny that companies are so terrified of the reputation risk that comes with these kinds of lawsuits, and yet are so often run by idiots who will send the company down in flames to follow DEI and other PC nonsense at the expense of their customers and shareholders. That kind of foolishness seems like a much bigger reputational risk to me. But this is the world in which we live now. 

So, in brief: Be brief. Don't make eye contact with the crazy people. For job security, have no personality at work. And if the dog ain't been fixed, don't pet him. Whatever you do.

Comma tips.

Today I would like to once again address the pressing issue of commas in the English language. 

And no, I'm not going to take up once more the battle of the serial comma (also known as the Oxford comma) -- that is, the comma before the last item in a series. (As in the sentence I bought bananas, apples, and oranges.) There are those who believe the serial comma should be used in such sentences, and there are those who are wrong. I'm not debating the wrong people at this time. 

No, in this case I have a couple of tips for comma use that will make your writing sing! Or, if not sing, at least look neater, which will still put you ahead of the game. 

1) Use commas with independent clauses.

Bob got out his motorcycle, and Jan got out her AK-47.

A comma usually proceeds the conjunction (sing it with me: and, but, and or, get you pretty far! And also yet, while, so, etc.) when there are independent clauses. What does this mean without the grammar blah blah blah? When you see a sentence with multiple subjects and their verbs, and you have a boxcar from Conjunction Junction, break out your comma. 

Failure to do so is the number-one cause of run-on sentences, according to a statistic I just made up. It makes you sound unschooled, or someone like Big Bill Faulkner or Winston Groom or T. R. Pearson pretending to be unschooled.

Then Jolie and me went to the bait shop and I bought bait and she said what's that for and I said lunch and she didn't think it was funny.

Of course that should be: Then Jolie and me went to the bait shop, and I bought bait, and she said what's that for, and I said lunch, and she didn't think it was funny. Although if you were writing a business letter like this, you would need to make plenty more changes. 

One thing that can alert you is the change of point-of-view. In the top example we have Bob and Jan doing different things, with individual verbs and objects. When it's just one subject with that conjunction, you won't need the comma. 

Bob got out his motorcycle and gunned the engine.

2) How to tell when to use a comma for a coordinate adjectives. 

Here are some simple nouns with multiple adjectives. Can you tell why some have commas and some don't?

lovely cold water

green, hazy morning

sharp, shiny blade

hard, cold truth

blue wooden basket

The simple answer is that in the first and last examples, the first adjective modifies the noun and the adjective before the noun. It is because the water is cold that it is lovely; it is the wood of the basket that is painted blue. A hazy morning is not necessarily green, a blade not always shiny, and the truth not always cold. Think of "cold water" and "wooden basket" as being the name of the object.  

But Fred, you say, this is very subtle. If only there were an easy way to tell when to use the comma and when not to use the comma!  

And there is! When looking at multiple adjectives before a noun, ask yourself, Self! Would the phrase work as well if I used and between the adjectives? If so, use the and or use the comma. Sharp and shiny blade is the same as sharp, shiny blade. Lovely and cold water is not the same as Lovely cold water because in the first instance, the loveliness is not connected to the refreshingly chill of the water. Maybe the water just looks nice. But hard and cold truth is fine, because that truth is both hard and cold. 

The Chicago Manual of Style gives less subtle examples as: 

He has rejected traditional religious affiliations.

You can see that traditional and religious affiliations would change the meaning, saying that he has rejected all traditional as well as all religious affiliations. So he eschews the Masons and Oddfellows and Knights of the Templar as well as Judaism and Catholicism and New Age woo woo stuff. 

, , , , , , , , ,

Ninety-nine people out of a hundred will not pick up on these things and will not care. Some will sense something is off if a comma is not used properly. Many can scarcely read or write, yet somehow got a high-school degree. I saw someone online complaining about the noise from the "canyons" being shot off at West Point. Maybe another victim of autocorrect... or maybe not.

I admit my comma issues are real inside-baseball stuff. 

Some will argue that these are not hard-and-fast rules, set in stone, and other clichés, and that's all right. Certainly great writers have broken these kinds of guidelines all the time, often showing powerful style. But as a great editor once said, you need to know the rules before you can break them. You have to pass the basic driving test before you can go on to race cars, drive big rigs, or jump school buses in Beetles, and what I offer is the equivalent of a parallel parking tip. 

Now, go out there and use those commas! Or not, depending! 

The tripods have landed.

Lately I've been talking about my wife's crazy product purchases in this space, and I'll give her credit for two things -- the stuff she's been getting is not expensive, and if it works as advertised it would be helpful. 

Well, my latest present from her is this set of tripods. 

If you use liquid hand soap, or a shampoo or the like that comes in a pump bottle, you may find the Flip-It! bottle emptying caps useful. I like to get everything I can out of the soap bottle, which in the past has meant trying to balance it on its cap or just water down the contents and try to get an adequate handwashing out of what's inside. 

Well, no more! The amazing tripod cap allows you to stand that bottle right up on its top, and gravity does the rest. 

I didn't think much of the Flip-It! at first, but I was surprised how little residue is left in the bottle after Isaac Newton has had a chance at it. When the soap is gone, one quick rinse and into the recycling bin, to likely go in the landfill with the rest of the garbage. Well, at least I tried. 

The kit comes with two tripods and six adapters, so any standard bottle should be accommodated. I've used a medium adapter (the dark gray ring above) and a small one for two different soap bottles. I imagine shampoo/conditioner bottles need the larger adapter. 

Though I've taken a flyer on all sorts of gadgets and gizmos, I probably wouldn't have bought these. Still, it's always fun to see if an idea works as described, and the Flip-It! does. Two caveats: Because it is designed to adapt to shampoo bottles, you will likely get more liquid hand soap dispensed than you want if you're not careful. Also, both times I used it, the adapter was difficult to get off the empty bottle -- probably dried soap gluing up the works. 

Still, as cheap but clever ideas with no working parts go, I give this two clean thumbs up. My review: Flip-It? Good!

Dead Body Cooper.

The topic of D. B. Cooper came up around the table, and one of the younger folks asked who that was. Well, it's been a long time since that fateful night -- November 24, 1971 -- when a man calling himself Dan Cooper threatened to blow up Flight 305 from Portland to Seattle. 

I told her a little of the story. How the average-looking middle-aged dude got on the plane and once they were airborne told one of the young stewardesses that he would blow them all up with his bomb unless he got $200,000 -- and four parachutes. That once he got the money and got the pilots to lift off again, he leaped out somewhere over the vast forests of Washington while alone in the cabin. That he knew that a 727 was one of the few jets that had a rear staircase openable from inside, that the plane could be flown at 10,000 feet so the cabin would not need to be pressurized and he wouldn't end up like Auric Goldfinger when the stairs were opened. That he and the money and the bomb disappeared into the cold, rainy night. That a reporter's mistake caused his name to be given as D. B., and that it's possible the hijacker was naming himself for a daring comic book character virtually known in the USA. That Cooper was never caught, and the case remains the only unsolved skyjack in history.

She said, in a nutshell, good for him. He planned a heist and got away with it. 

It surprised me, although it's well known that Cooper was, and in some quarters still is, a folk hero. No one got hurt, he got his dough in a 22-pound sack of twenties, and vanished into the forests of the Pacific Northwest. Everyone likes a heist! And everyone likes a guy who can (all together now!) stick it to the MAN.

Well, he wasn't exactly Robin Hood. He stole all that dough and kept it for himself. Or at least that was his intention. Personally, I believe that ol' Dan Cooper has been rotting corpse for fifty-plus years, and one day someone will find him. 

While parachutists have re-created the jump from a 727, they didn't do it at night in the rain over dense forests. Even then, the force of the jet engines has been described as being tackled from the back, so it's not easy feat. While at first the FBI thought Cooper had to be an experienced skydiver, it turned out that one of the parachutes, which was donated from a skydiving school, was used for ground training and had been sewn shut. Cooper took that one as a reserve chute. He may not have needed it, but a more experienced jumper would have realized it was no use. The other chute he took was an older type -- non-steerable. Which probably wouldn't have mattered anyway, in dense forest with the half-moon completely covered. But he would have had no control over where he came down. 

Some of the money was found buried on a sand bar in 1980 -- $5,800, all clumped up. A massive search was once again raised, but no other bills were found. 

I've always tended to be a law-and-order guy, so Cooper's no hero to me. Maybe no one got hurt, but there were three young stewardesses on that flight who thought it was going to be their last night on earth. One admitted to being paranoid and frightened for years after the event. The crew members were older, and the captain a tough veteran of World War II, but it was a hell of a night for them, too. 

FBI agent Ralph Himmelsbach, who was on the case for years until his retirement, said, "He used foul language to the stewardesses. He's a sleazy rotten scumbag and I hope he died a miserable, wretched death."

Had Cooper survived, he'd be in his mid-nineties or more now, so I think Himmelsbach probably got his wish. But he, like agent Larry Carr, who took over the case, thought that Cooper did not survive the jump -- and even if he had somehow landed without dying or breaking a limb, he would have been deep in the forest, lost (the plane had to deviate from its flight path because of the need to conserve fuel at that altitude), wet and freezing, in a business suit and dress shoes. 

The forests hold a lot of secrets. One day someone will find some bones, shreds of a cheap suit and some parachute fabric, maybe even a pair of busted sunglasses. And that will finally put an end to the story of the man who got away with it. 

Stick it to the man!

 

How to feel.

I was listening to a podcast by America's favorite priest, Fr. Mike Schmitz, but he was driving me nuts. Although the title of the video/podcast episode is "3 Reasons You Still Feel Bad After Confession," throughout it he talks about why one would "feel badly."

Grrr! Father, you need to get to English language confession, right NOW!

As George Phipps, the world's most physically fit English professor (played by Kirk Douglas) put it in the 1949 film A Letter to Three Wives, "You feel badly with your fingers." When your feelings are bad, you feel bad. Not badly.

This one catches a lot of people up, even smarties like Fr. Mike. But it's really simple. While it's true that bad can be used as an adverb, that's just another example of the dictionary throwing in the towel, like a modern DA saying people will commit crimes if they want, so we won't prosecute. 

Properly speaking, bad is an adjective. And badly is always an adverb. Adjectives modify nouns. Adverbs modify verbs. Adverbs can also modify adjectives or other adverbs, but there are none in this simple statement:

As we can see, bad modifies the noun: I. How do I feel? Bad. But when the word is the adverb badly, it's modifying the verb, feel. How is my tactile sense performing? Badly. (The verb performing being the modified word here.)

So I feel bad means I have bad feelings, while I feel badly means I am bad at feeling things, which is a statement one would seldom be obliged to make. 

Another reason this screws us up so often is that the reverse, I feel good, is usually treated as passable although it ought to be I feel well, well being the proper adverb. But Merriam-Webster muddies the waters, saying, among other foolish things: 

Adverbial good has been under attack from the schoolroom since the 19th century. Insistence on well rather than good has resulted in a split in connotation: well is standard, neutral, and colorless, while good is emotionally charged and emphatic. This makes good the adverb of choice in sports.

So... dumbbells who play sports should use good? Really, they make it seem like good is fine as an adverb if you're a moron. Not like dictionary editors, who are smarty-pantses who suck at sports. Why do we have to drag class and envy into everything?

Bottom line: If you want to sound smart, feel bad if something negative is up, feel well if something positive is up. The dictionary guys are going to look down on you either way, because that's the only joy they have, but you'll feel better. 

The sweetstakes.

Mom brought home a carton of Neapolitan ice cream! Gentlemen: Start your scoops! Which flavor will you try to grab before your beloved friends and family can get any?

First, the backgrounder. It's not Neopolitan, which would mean it's from some new city that didn't exist before; it's Neapolitan, as from Naples, Italy. And what's a southern Italian city got to do with an ice-cold confection? Nuthin'. Well, Wikipedia says that the dessert originated in Prussia, but got associated in American with Neapolitan immigrants who were experts in frozen desserts like spumoni. When I was a kid I thought it was supposed to mimic the Italian tricolor flag, but if that were the case the flavors would be pistachio, vanilla, and strawberry in that order. 

So which flavor would be taken first? I had heard that as recently as the early 80's, America still loved vanilla more than any other ice cream flavor, chocolate and strawberry running second and third. However, Parade magazine and Newsweek both report that chocolate is now the top flavor, vanilla second. Strawberry still makes the podium with the bronze. However, I object to both polls, and not just because I am a vanilla fan. Both polls include Neapolitan as a flavor, and it is not a flavor; it is not even a combination of flavors, like Cookies & Cream or Rocky Road. It is a sandwich of distinct flavors, and ought to not have been an option.

Whichever you choose, you'll have to go on without me. I'm proud to say that since January 1, I have completely taken sugar out of my diet. Exceptions include one birthday I was obliged to celebrate, naturally occurring sugars in fruits, minuscule amounts in some breakfast cereals, one Friday dinner of pancakes in Lent, and whatever was still in the house on January 1, which was not much. No Easter candy, no Valentine's chocolate, no cookies when people bring them to meetings, no desserts, only sugar-free preserves (which are weird) and sugar-free yogurt and sugar-free peanut butter and sugar-free everything else. All those doughnut reviews and cookies samplings I've done on this site before? A thing of the past. (I will note that the few bits of sugar I had did not send me into sugar-craving frenzies; I think the whole sugar addiction idea is overblown.)

The doctor didn't make me do it. I wanted to lose weight before my back went out again; it seemed like a good idea for my achin' back to take off some poundage. And I got tired of fighting my clothes. If you've been a friend to this blog (God bless your soul!), you know I have a sweet tooth, so I figured that the pounds would melt away. And guess what? Going by the way my clothes fit, I might as well have kept eating the doughnuts and the cookies and ice cream and maybe taking maple syrup shots in my coffee, too. 

I guess I have to up my game somehow. I'd have thought that after almost six months there'd be some progress, but no. It's discouraging, and I've never been good at finding ways to get recouraged after being discouraged. 

*sigh* 

Pass the scoop. 

Say no to pools.

I feel like the only guy who doesn't want a pool at his house. Surely I can't be. 

It would be different if we lived in the south. Relatives in Florida had a heated pool under a skeeter- and UV-blocking screenhouse that was very nice. It wasn't a heated pool, so you really didn't want to go in the water from, say, Thanksgiving to St. Patrick's Day, although you could if you were brave. But here in New York, you get maybe three months out of the pool. They open in May, no one goes in the water until June, they come out for good at Labor Day, and wrap it all up by October. 

It's a lot of work and money for a three-month dip. Besides, most of the time no one actually goes in the water in the families I've observed. They just sit around the pool, tanning. 

Bankrate.com tells us that in-ground swimming pools can add up to seven percent to the value of the house, but they may cost more than that to build and maintain. 

The value they add is more in scenery and potential than swimming. Everyone who wants to entertain knows that guests--especially those with kids--will be excited to come over if there's a pool. The kids will use it, but the adults, probably not. However, it will keep the kids busy. And it looks nicer than a dry, empty, sunbaked backyard with maybe a tetherball and some cornhole stuff. BORING.

I don't want people coming over in large numbers anyway, so I'm cool.

I've resisted successfully, and it has not been too hard. Our backyard has a severe slope, so the cost of installation would be much higher than if the ground was flat. The legally required fencing alone would cost thousands. Financial setbacks over the years have often taken big capital improvements off the table. Most of all, I've resisted because you know whose job it would be out there with the net and the chlorine tester every day. (It's always the husband.) 

Now, this kind of pool might be worth investing in: 

Keep the dogs cool and give 'em a stealth bath while you're at it. Win-win.

Southerners on Broadway.

Contrary to some people's reminiscences, our culture in the 1970s was not all America hating post-Vietnam Watergate-obsessed conspiracy theories.  

In fact, almost 50 years ago a musical hit the Broadway boards, based on a Civil War story and starring Southerners. It was called Shenandoah.

The musical was based on a 1965 Jimmy Stewart film, and written by Peter Udell, Philip Rose, and James Lee Barrett (who wrote the movie), with music by Gary Geld. It ran for more than a thousand performances. It told the story of a family of yeoman farmers in the Shanandoah valley, a large non-slave-owning family who wanted nothing to do with the burgeoning war but were caught up in the horror of it anyway. These were the kind of people who in real life caused West Virginia to split from the eastern side and join the Union. 

Shenandoah starred John Cullum -- familiar to many people today from his appearances on Law & Order. He had been blowing the doors off the 46th Street Theater as South Carolina's John Rutledge in 1776 a few years earlier -- a role he repeated in the 1972 film version -- and played a scheming playwright in Ira Levin's Deathtrap a few years later. A very versatile actor, who would win the Tony for Shenandoah. (It did not win Best Musical; that was the year of The Wiz. The book got Best Book of a Musical, though.) It was promoted heavily on local TV, something that didn't happen only at Christmastime in those days. 

Shenandoah was typical of the Americana that was in the air leading up to the Bicentennial. People who think of seventies culture as nothing but disco and pet rocks and cheesy sitcoms might be surprised how reflective the nation was in that era, and yet celebratory. This musical entered that spirit. The story is tough -- the large family suffers at the hands of Union soldiers and Confederate deserters, a dramatic example of Trotsky's line that “You may not be interested in war, but war is interested in you.” Moreover, the patriarch, Charlie, is a man whose faith in God has been wrecked before the play begins by the loss of his wife, and his is a spiritual journey as tragedy unfolds. I can't imagine a current musical even taking religion seriously enough to make it the dramatic center of the story. Audiences now would be yelling, like Job's wife, "Curse God and die!" 

And it's hard to imagine that a play about sympathetic Southerners, even those opposed to slavery and the War Between the States, would be a hit on Broadway. It would be panned as being a musical about "nice Nazis." Because people are stupid and know nothing and just want to shout. 

Shenandoah was revived in 2019, although not on Broadway. I'm not certain it could run on the Great White Way at all, not just because it takes place in the Confederacy. Broadway musicals are ridiculously expensive to produce, far more so than in 1974, and these days there has to be a built-in audience before the thing even opens or investors won't touch it. So a musical has to be constructed like a commodity around well-known pop songs (Jersey Boys, Smokey Joe's Café, MJ, Beautiful, and on and on) (and even then it can be a disaster) or be built around a movie that has a strong following (Elf, Legally Blonde, Back to the Future, all that Disney crap, and oh so much more). Foreign performance rights are also crucial to recouping investment, and a play based on a time in American history does not sound like a layup for audiences in Europe and Asia. While revivals of past hits are a good bet, Shenandoah never reached the rarified atmosphere of a few megahits like Oklahoma!, My Fair Lady, The Wiz, or Gypsy. Investors may take a flyer on something new, if it's woke enough, and take a bath on it, patting themselves on the back all the way to the tax write-off. 

As we gear up for our Semiquincentennial in 2026, I see no sign in the current culture of reflection or celebration. They revived 1776 with stunt casting -- an "All-Female, Transgender, and Non-Binary Broadway Revival," although the internal contradictions of that casting requirement will make your head spin. It makes one wonder if the John and Abigail Adams numbers are based on hot girl-on-girl action, because that's where our culture is now. Ahistorical, childish, and stupid. 

I doubt we're going to make it to the Tricentennial at this rate. 

Dishwasher safe!

Years ago when I wore baseball caps more to cover bed head than to cover lack of hair, my mom gave me a Ball Cap Buddy Hat Cleaner. These handy frames enable one to put a prized ballcap in the dishwasher on the top rack and let it be cleaned with the dishes. Amazing!

The big downside: My wife and I were newlyweds and our apartment had no dishwasher, not counting me. We had no washer or dryer either. By the time we moved into a house seven or so years later, I'd thrown the frame out or given it away. I just put my caps through the washing machine now. They're fine. 

It's surprising how many things can be cleaned in the dishwasher. I'm very happy that the new drainboard I bought a couple of months back is dishwasher safe. Drainboards tend to get grody over time, and the dishwasher does a better job of cleaning them than I do by hand. Of course they come out of the dishwasher wet, which leads to the conundrum of where to leave a dishrack when it's drying. 

Another thing that can go through the dishwasher is the lint filter on the dryer. This is something my wife told me yesterday, and it is the proximate cause of my posting on this topic today. We haven't tried it yet, but it seems like a good idea. The lint filter just never seems clean, even if you vacuum it, and when you have pets you figure it's just a lost cause. And that's bad, because lint buildup in the exhaust can cause a fire. Well, stick that sucker in the dishwasher and clean it on a microparticle scale! (If it mangles the filter I'll let you know.)

Some things are not dishwasher safe that I wish were. An example is the LickiMat, a fun-filled dog treat toy. You smear the mat with something soft like yogurt or peanut butter, freeze it for extra fun, and let the dog go on it. 

All our dogs have loved going after frozen liquid cheese (a.k.a. yogurt) on these. And I wish the mats could be cleaned in the dishwasher -- on the sanitize cycle -- but the plastic is floppy and too delicate. I tried one and it bent. So I scrub them with a brush and put the brush through the dishwasher. 

Other things that can't go through the dishwasher that you wish could include fine china, of course, but also a lot of novelty mugs. Those mugs that change design when a hot liquid is poured inside? If you want the secret image permanently imprinted, put it through the dishwasher. I have another mug that was a gift that says it's not dishwasher safe, but I ran it through once and it survived. Maybe it takes a couple of washes to rip off the glaze and ruin the design. 

Many other things cannot be run through the dishwasher. There's a strong caution on using the dishwasher to clean the following: 

🍽 Photographs

🍽 Chocolate

🍽 Electronics

🍽 Books

🍽 Pets, children, small adults

🍽 Ice

🍽 Furniture

🍽 Engine parts

Maybe the strangest thing you can do with your dishwasher is use it to cook. According to Ranker, potatoes, salmon, chicken, even turkey can be cooked up in your dishwasher. I don't why you would do it, but I suppose it cuts down on the dishes. And if there is cookware involved, you just leave it in the appliance and run it with soap. But I'm not going to try it.

Dis-inspirations?

This has to be the most bizarre thing I've ever seen used as an inspirational quote online. 

At first this seems like just another Yeah, yeah, think big and be big -- I heard that from Fred Flintstone. But it got worse the more I thought about it. 

First of all, there's no proof that this quote comes from Machiavelli, although Forbes notes that it's often attributed to him. I looked through Bartlett's and the Oxford quotation book and checked in with Quote Investigator and all of Machiavelli's works on Project Gutenberg but had no luck finding it attributed to him or anyone else. Granted, Machiavelli wrote in Italian, and that makes it harder to track down an English translation. But my search under subject words as well as authors convinced me that whoever said this first, it was probably not everyone's favorite Italian diplomat. 

Second, do we really want to draw spiritual growth from a man like Niccolo Machiavelli? He wasn't exactly writing Chicken Soup for the Soul. His most famous book, The Prince, was the birth of Realpolitik as we know it -- basically, how to shiv the right people at the right time for coldblooded profit. The Rules for Radicals of its day. For example, he tells this inspiring tale of Old Syracuse: 

Agathocles, the Sicilian, became King of Syracuse not only from a private but from a low and abject position. This man, the son of a potter, through all the changes in his fortunes always led an infamous life. Nevertheless, he accompanied his infamies with so much ability of mind and body that, having devoted himself to the military profession, he rose through its ranks to be Praetor of Syracuse. Being established in that position, and having deliberately resolved to make himself prince and to seize by violence, without obligation to others, that which had been conceded to him by assent, he came to an understanding for this purpose with Amilcar, the Carthaginian, who, with his army, was fighting in Sicily. One morning he assembled the people and the senate of Syracuse, as if he had to discuss with them things relating to the Republic, and at a given signal the soldiers killed all the senators and the richest of the people; these dead, he seized and held the princedom of that city without any civil commotion. 

Mind you, he's not telling us about Agathocles in the hope that we will emulate him (unlike Radicals author Saul Alinsky, whose book is a how-to guide). Niccolo just wants to tell us the practical problems facing one who usurps power by force. 

Hence it is to be remarked that, in seizing a state, the usurper ought to examine closely into all those injuries which it is necessary for him to inflict, and to do them all at one stroke so as not to have to repeat them daily; and thus by not unsettling men he will be able to reassure them, and win them to himself by benefits. He who does otherwise, either from timidity or evil advice, is always compelled to keep the knife in his hand; neither can he rely on his subjects, nor can they attach themselves to him, owing to their continued and repeated wrongs. For injuries ought to be done all at one time, so that, being tasted less, they offend less; benefits ought to be given little by little, so that the flavour of them may last longer.

So kill everyone who might oppose you all at once and start raiding the treasury over time to make new friends. There's a big plan for you. Small plans don't stir the soul! 

Whether Niccolo could be considered a force for evil or just a "straight shooter, telling it like it is," may be argued. Nowadays it would be the latter, but in the past there was no question that he was a bad man. 

Older readers, or readers of older works, might recall that one of the names for the devil is Old Nick. And writers like Samuel Butler in his satirical poem Hudibras made the connection clear:

Nick Machiavel had ne'er a trick,

Though he gave his name to our Old Nick.

The devil had a big plan too, as I recall. 

So I just found it astonishing that inspirational memes for yoga moms would include a quote from a man historically considered a tricky bastard in the non-birth sense of the world. Then again, if you've ever had to deal with yoga moms in a homeowners' association, maybe you'd think it's not really such a reach. 

Sicklied o'er.

Yesterday the whole town got cloudy, and it had nothing to do with rain, except for the lack thereof. 

I've seen smoke from wildfires around here, in the southern Hudson Valley, but I'd never seen the sky turn a pale, sickly yellow like this. 

Weirder still, this was coming from Canada's wildfires, three hundred miles and more to the north. 

We're under an air quality alert, of course. Everything smells like smoke. People in a local online community were saying they could taste it. I thought it smelled nice, as woodsmoke does, but it bothered some people. One woman posted that her daughter said, "This is what the end of the world looks like." That surprised her dad, who posted "Really?" Well, kids are dramatic. The girl is too young to remember 9/11.

But it is weird. 

I'd like to make a quip about how Canada, which hates smoking so much that they're printing warnings right on the cigarettes, sure is blowing smoke in our faces, and should keep their pollution to themselves. 

Okay, I guess I just did. 

But I'm pulling for the guys who have to go out and try to fight these blazes. It's been super dry here -- "dry as popcorn farts" as one friend unartfully but vividly put it -- and there's no rain in the forecast until at least Monday. It's made the days very comfortable and the nights perfect for sleeping with a window open, but this is the cost. 

Naturally, while all this is going on I heard some idiots nearby practicing with firecrackers, because the Fourth of July is only a month away and they have to get ready. 

So, let's pray this ordeal ends soon, and if you know a good rain dance, pass it along. That sky sure looks sick, and some people with breathing trouble will also.  

Dancin' in the dust.

I'm here with another stupid product review! This time it's a musical stupid product review! Although you'll have to provide your own music. 

I bought these dust mop slippers for my wife for a gag gift at Christmas. Well, the gag was on me, since she wouldn't even wear them for a lark. Not even two larks and a pheasant. But she didn't throw them away, which means I got to wear them! And I gotta DANCE! 

The other day I was vacuuming downstairs and thought I'd done a pretty good job, although with baby dog Izzy following me around it was hard to tell. The vacuum doesn't bother him, but he likes to keep a close eye on it to see what it's doing. Consequently, I missed a few spots. Plus, Izzy sheds like a shedding machine on Extra Shed mode with the optional SHEDDD+ attachment, so even if I had done a flawless job there'd be new hair already.

But that's okay, because I've got HAPPY FEET!

I slipped the slippers on and went skating around the downstairs, dipping my feets here and there for bits of dust and dog hair that I'd missed. And I did have to skate fast, because Izzy REALLY thought these mops were toys and was after me from the moment I put them on. You have to be light on your feet to keep the dog away from your moppin' shoes -- man, if I had a nickel for every time my mom told me that, I'd have no cents at all. And indeed, I do not. 

I did keep away from Izzy, and I certainly did a good job with the slippers. 

Fortunately they are machine washable. Unfortunately that means everything in the washing machine with them will get a good coating of the hair I was unable to shake off. But hey -- I'm a dancer, I suffer for my art. 

Can the slippers take the place of a vacuum or a dust mop? No. You'd have to mince around in a back-and-forth pattern like a guy cutting the grass to do the floor. BOR-RING! But for supplementary dust mopping, they're great.

So that's my lesson for today. Put on your dust mop shoes, start humming a tune, and off you go. Remember, for every job that must be done there is an element of fun. Find the fun and snap! the job's a game. Would Mary Poppins lie to you?

Misty watercolor memeries.

Happy Monday, fellow people! Here are some happy little memes to start your day. Steal 'em, trade 'em, put 'em in your bicycle spokes. They're all for you! 

Yeah, I've written on this topic before, but the so-called 
superior speed of the falcon persists. 

See also: Crazy Boyfriend

Stages of Watermelon.

1. See watermelon in the supermarket; feel glad that summer's coming back but think it's maybe a little too early.

2. Break down and buy watermelon (such a good price!) and haul it home. 

3. Watermelon is too large to fit in the fridge whole, since you just stocked it with food from the supermarket, so it begins to migrate around the kitchen as it constantly gets in the way.

Migrating Watermelon

4. Finally have the time and the drive to cut watermelon into edible portions, becoming keenly aware with the first cut of the knife that now the CLOCK IS TICKING.

5. After fighting for what seems like hours, chunks and wedges and slices of watermelon are now stored in the fridge, and a few pieces in yourself, and it was tasty and refreshing, and you're content.

6. New day! Enjoy some... watermelon! Can't put it on corn flakes like bananas.... Maybe have toast instead, with a side of your new favorite fruit.

7. Dinnertime! Maybe grill some watermelon as a side dish? Easy! But that balsamic reduction that was recommended to go with it? Maybe not so easy.... How about some for dessert?

8. New day! Enjoy some more... watermelon! 

9. Third day. Everyone said they were happy you bought a watermelon, but no one is pulling his weight on eating the thing. Hey, do you all want this to go bad? There's still a lot left! Mmm, tasty too!

10. Okay, that's about enough watermelon until next year. Should have bought a pre-cut wedge, but come on -- it was the same price as a whole one. 

11. Watermelon starts to get a slick feel and a vinegary scent. This isn't right, is it? You consider: Man, we just took out the trash this morning and we'll be stuck with it until Thursday now....

12. Dispose of remaining watermelon, vowing never to buy a whole one again, because others in THIS FAMILY will not put their appetites where their mouths are. 

Repeat in July, August, maybe September. 

Fun and hatred.

I've heard it attributed to Erma Bombeck -- though I can't track down the quote -- that one should never marry someone until they've played the board game Monopoly together, because that's how you can see the true person within. 

That's pretty good advice. Someone who is cruel and ruthless in meaningless things may be very cruel and very ruthless when it counts. Some women look for that in a man -- a guy who's a killer, who will protect and provide -- only to find out that he will cut them off at the legs when it suits him, too. On the other hand, some women want a nice guy who couldn't care less who wins or loses, and then get furious when he turns out to be a couch potato. 

Monopoly can be illuminating. 

Board games can teach us a lot. One of the reasons that people like myself who love words are so frustrated by Scrabble is that, as my wife noted, it's not really a word game. It's a math game. People with good vocabularies think they have an advantage going in, but the mathemagicians who know how to slay with an X on a triple letter score and always know how many of each letter tile are likely to still be in the bag are the ones who win. They can make up for their lack of words by -- completely within the rules -- hogging the official Scrabble dictionary while they scan their letters. They're not looking to get rid of that Z. They're looking for a way to get set up by you to dump it on the triple word score next time. Because it’s not the killer word that counts, it’s the killer score.

All this is very educational, but for those who really want to know how evil their friends and loved ones can be, I still say that you can't beat Avalon Hill's classic, Diplomacy. It is the king of bad relations. 

1976 edition

Forbes magazine called the game board "the map that ruined a thousand friendships," and I'd say that's being nice. The goal of the game, for up to seven players, each representing a pre-World War I nation, is to take over Europe, which means capturing eighteen of the thirty-four major cities (as supply centers). There are no dice, no cards, just moves and alliances. All moves are written in secret and played simultaneously.

I believe that it is impossible to win this game without screwing someone over. 

There's no way. You can only survive for any time by making alliances, and if your alliance vanquishes the other alliance(s), no one player will yet control enough of the map to win. Someone's gotta go down, and the best way to do it is a surprise attack, when you can mortally wound your former friend and he cannot stop you. We called the game Screw Your Buddy.

I've played the game many times, and it's ugly. It’s the only game I have ever seen end with someone's announced move being "I flip the game board." In this game it's routine. There are no good losers in Diplomacy. There are no good winners. Just sore losers and sore winners. No one's happy.  

It's amazing.

The last time I played, I started out with an ally who said we would experiment with the noble idea that we would be pals straight to the end. Blood oath to not attack each other. I took advantage and made an unusual early aggressive move on an opponent. He didn't like it -- basically, he didn't want me as an ally, he wanted to control my country -- so he immediately stabbed me in the back. I swore the game off after that. The hatred would have made Emperor Palpatine look like Tweety Bird.  

If you want a classic game that tests the mettle of up to seven people, try Diplomacy. Even people who are weak on strategy can do well if they're good on personality. Of course, you may never speak to one another again, but c'est la guerre. 

Readin', 'ritin', and robots.

I was able to log on to ChatGPT. With so much yakkin' about how white-collar jobs are at risk and how the Hollywood writers are going to be replaced by AI, I figured I ought to see if I could be replaced as well. So I asked the enigmatic computer brain a question: 

"Can you generate a blog post in the style of http://vitaminfred.blogspot.com/?"

Here is what it wrote: 

Title: Exploring the Enigmatic World of Color: A Journey through Chromatic Wonders

Introduction:

Welcome, dear readers, to a delightful expedition into the captivating realm of color! Today, we embark on a visual adventure that will awaken your senses and leave you in awe of the intricate tapestry of hues that surround us. From the vivid brilliance of the morning sun to the subtle interplay of shades in a dew-kissed flower, color is an ever-present companion, enriching our lives in countless ways.

Chapter 1: The Language of Color

Before delving deeper into the wonders of color, let us first understand its language. Just like words, colors convey messages and elicit emotions. Red symbolizes passion and energy, while blue evokes tranquility and peace. Yellow radiates warmth and happiness, and green represents growth and harmony. Each color carries a unique essence, and when combined, they create a symphony that dances upon the canvas of our perception.

Chapter 2: The Science of Chromatic Splendor

While color is undoubtedly a feast for the eyes, its beauty is rooted in scientific marvels. Light waves interact with objects, absorbing and reflecting certain wavelengths, thereby producing the myriad of colors we witness. The intricate interplay of pigments, prisms, and receptors within our eyes bestows upon us the ability to perceive the kaleidoscope of the visible spectrum. From Isaac Newton's experiments with light to the modern-day understanding of color theory, science has unraveled the secrets behind this enchanting phenomenon.

Chapter 3: Colors in Cultures and Symbolism

Beyond the realm of science, color holds profound cultural significance and symbolism. Cultures across the globe assign unique meanings to different hues. In some ancient civilizations, such as Egypt and China, colors held sacred connotations associated with deities and spiritual beliefs. The symbolism of color can also be seen in contemporary society, where green signifies environmental awareness and purple represents creativity and royalty. Exploring the multifaceted tapestry of color symbolism unveils a rich tapestry of human expression and connection.

Chapter 4: Color in Art and Design

Artists and designers have long harnessed the power of color to evoke emotions and create masterpieces that stir the soul. From the vibrant strokes of Vincent van Gogh to the mesmerizing color schemes of Piet Mondrian, artists throughout history have utilized color as a primary tool for self-expression. Moreover, in the realm of design, colors play a pivotal role in shaping our perceptions and experiences. From the vibrant hues of a website to the carefully curated color palette of an interior space, color choices have the ability to influence our moods, behaviors, and overall well-being.

Chapter 5: Color Psychology: Unveiling the Hidden Impact

In addition to their aesthetic allure, colors also possess psychological implications that can impact our thoughts, feelings, and behaviors. Color psychology explores how different hues can influence our mood, cognition, and even physical sensations. For instance, the color blue has a calming effect, making it ideal for promoting relaxation in bedrooms or office spaces. On the other hand, restaurants often employ warm shades like red and orange to stimulate appetite and create a lively atmosphere. Understanding the subtle nuances of color psychology empowers us to craft environments that evoke the desired responses.

Conclusion:

As our vibrant voyage through the world of color comes to a close, we are left with a profound appreciation for the kaleidoscope of hues that grace our lives. From the scientific intricacies to the cultural significance, color is a language that transcends boundaries and unites humanity in its shared visual experience. So, let us embrace the beauty that surrounds us, and allow color to illuminate our world, one vibrant shade at a time.

BOR-RING! This is terrible! I hope you didn't try to slog your way through all that. What a hack job! Did it invent any information, as with lesser documents like court filings? No, I don't think so, although its statements on the topic of color and psychology range from the banal to the questionable. 

I hope I need not point out how unlike my normal blog posts this is, as well. Where are the complaints? The bad jokes? The pithiness? There's not a bit of pith. Sentences like "we embark on a visual adventure that will awaken your senses and leave you in awe of the intricate tapestry of hues that surround us" are serviceable, yes, but read like a high schooler with a thesaurus who's trying to get to a mandatory article length. I'm surprised it didn't finish Lucy Van Pelt style with "The very very very end." 

And if ChatGPT had a look at the URL I'd provided, it would have gleaned the usual topics I address. Instead of a mundane school essay on color, it would have bitched about work, chuckled over the dog, talked about food, whined about the Mets, delved into religion or books, raged against political correctness, complained about the culture in general... In short, any of my usual hobbyhorses. Instead it grabbed for a basic, boring school essay subject. 

So I don't expect AI to replace bloggers anytime soon. 

Then again, since few of us (certainly not I) make any dough at it, there's no reason to sic machine learning on the blog oeuvre. But there is money in movie scripts, so I expect AI to get involved in that. All they have to do is dumb it down enough to think like a Hollywood writer:

🎥🎥🎥

Writer 1: Okay, so then the hero goes with the chick to investigate the crime.

Writer 2: Right, but you know what would be cool? If, on his way there, the girl pulls a knife on him and tells him she knows his real name is Lars and he's a Swedish spy.

Writer 1: But it's not and he's not.

Writer 2: And they struggle, then he crashes the car through the side of a glass building, trying to stop her from stabbing him. Pow! Crash! They come out the other side, wrestling for the knife, while the car goes out of control.

Writer 1: This has nothing to do with the plot.

Writer 2: And then the car crashes through a guardrail on an overpass...

Writer 1: Designed specifically to prevent that...

Writer 2: ...with concrete and metal and glass flying everywhere! 

Writer 1: No airbag deployment?

Writer 2: And they land on the back of a semi shooting down the highway as it barely clears the overpass...

Writer: And the truck driver notices nothing. 

Writer 2: ...and while they fight the next overpass is coming up...

Writer 1: This makes no sense! It's completely stupid! It has nothing to do with anything!

Writer 2: It will look SO COOL IN IMAX!

Writer 1: ....

Writer 1: Okay, what happens next?

🎥🎥🎥

You can't tell me a chatbot is incapable of that.