My Honey, the Ghostbuster

I watched my Faithful Reader remove leaves from our driveway last week using a leaf blower. It was amazing, like Moses parting the Red Sea. But, with the hose in his hand and the pack on his back, he looked like a Ghostbuster. This got me to wondering—if he were a Ghostbuster, which one would he be?

He couldn’t be the token black guy (played by Ernie Hudson), because he deserves a bigger role.

He couldn’t be Egon Spengler (played by Harold Ramis), because though funny, Egon is humorless. My man has a great sense of humor.

So it comes down to Raymond Stantz (Dan Aykroyd) or Peter Venkman (Bill Murray). Tough choice. Ray is cute and cuddly, but too much of a child. Peter is kind of a bastard, but in some ways more appealing.

I think ultimately I’d have to go with Peter.

I can’t believe I said that.

I really don’t like Bill Murray.

But then, I don’t like grown men who can’t take care of themselves.

So, Faithful Reader, did I get it right? Is Peter Venkman the Ghostbuster that you most identify with?

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More Murder, More Marple

Murder With Mirrors (a.k.a. They Do It With Mirrors) by Agatha Christie
Grade: B

So difficult, isn’t it? To be clear about anything, I mean. Because if you’re looking at one thing, you can’t be looking at another. And one so often looks at the wrong thing, though whether because one happens to do so or because you’re meant to, it’s very hard to say. Misdirection, the conjurers call it. So clever, aren’t they?

Miss Marple gets word that her childhood friend may be in danger, so she visits the friend and there’s soon a murder. You’d think that everyone who knew Miss Marple would learn to steer clear of her, harbinger of death that she is. ;p

Miss Marple solves the case in her usual methodical and slightly humorous way, but I thought this outing was only so-so, hence the B grade. For those who are concerned about such things, Christie used the N word and the Q word in this book, and so you may be offended. I only find such things offensive if they appear in literature from the last 20 years or so. There’s no excuse for that kind of talk these days, but I like to pretend that authors of the past didn’t know any better.

Interesting Odds and Ends:

pettifogging: adj. trivial.
siskin: n. a greenish-yellow Eurasian finch, cousin of the goldfinch.

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Flexing Those Happy Muscles

I’ve said it before, but I’ll say it again, I am grateful for my blog.

Sometimes when I’m sitting in front of the computer and feeling bored, I’ll read through all of my posts for a particular category, tag, or month. I suppose rereading my own blog posts might be a form of narcissism, but it reminds me of the good times and makes me feel happy about my life.

That experience is probably what motivates people to keep journals. I have tried many times to keep a journal, but it never works. I don’t keep up with it and when I do write, it’s just moping on paper. Ultimately, it makes me feel worse about life, not better. Blogging is a little different. Knowing that someone else could read my posts forces me to pick an actual topic. It also makes me stay positive, because no one likes a moper.

Thanks to the blog, I’ve finally accepted that happiness doesn’t just happen. It is a state of mind and it requires effort. The beauty is that over time you become so accustomed to the effort that you don’t even notice it anymore. Just as 15 pounds seems like a heavy weight when you’re out of shape, after lifting it regularly for a few weeks, it’s a breeze. The only thing you have to do is keep lifting so that you don’t lose the muscles.

Winter, fast approaching, is my least favorite season, the time of year at which I am most prone to depression, so I’ll need to write lots of blogs posts. If for some reason I don’t, drop me a comment to remind me. And perhaps you should write some blog posts, too. It can’t hurt!

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Just Leave It Alone

On our anniversary a few weeks ago, we went up to Boston for brunch at the Langham Hotel. We stuffed ourselves full of rich (and expensive) food, took a quick walk through Chinatown where we bought some moon cakes, and then headed home. It was the first time we had ever left our son in someone else’s care, so we didn’t dillydally, but we enjoyed our brief outing.

We came home with some accidental mementos: dollar coins from the machine at the parking garage. When the attendant warned us that we’d get dollar coins as change, we thought they’d be Sacagaweas and were surprised to see James K. Polk instead. When the hell did Polk get a dollar coin? And why?

HeadsTails

It seems the U.S. Mint is doing the same thing now with presidents as they did with states, but in gold-colored dollar coins rather than quarters. Polk is one of the four presidents to be honored with a coin in 2009. Who knew? You’d think I would. I am, after all, an American citizen. You’d think I’d recognize my own currency.

But apparently I don’t. The Mint has gone completely overboard. The Sac was fun. The state quarters were fun. But then there were all the new nickels. And now these presidential dollars. And don’t even get me started on the changes to the paper currency (foiling counterfeiters is a good idea, but I’m used to my cash being green, thank you very much).

“At least they haven’t changed the penny,” I thought to myself. Then, with a premonition of dread, I went to the U.S. Mint’s website and did a search on the word “penny.” Sure enough, they have new penny designs. Four of them. The first was scheduled to be released in February. I haven’t used much change lately, but it’s hard to imagine I could fail to notice the new designs for this long. I checked my change jar and Faithful Reader’s. No 2009 pennies. Another Internet search revealed that the release of the pennies was delayed. Phew! I thought for a moment that I’d completely lost touch with reality.

The cent is such a tiny monetary amount that the penny’s continued existence is slightly ridiculous. It’s probably worth less than the cost to make it, but it’s still my favorite coin. I admire Lincoln, I think copper is a pretty color, and I still follow the old saying–“See a penny. Pick it up. All day long you’ll have good luck.” I like the penny just as it is. I’d rather they did away with it than change the design.

When I was a kid, it was a big thrill to find a bicentennial quarter. It was special because it was the only common coin that was different. Now we have a different coin every other day. I think it shows something about our culture. We, as a society, are suffering from a form of ADHD. Everyone’s a fashionista, if not in the arena of clothing, then in the realm of books, music, television, art, crafts, or some other form of entertainment. We move from fad to fad. We crave the new and we demand variety. Stop giving it to us and we will ignore you. The Mint, it would seem, does not want to be ignored.

But money should be something solid and unchanging, something that provides a sense of security. Especially at a time like this, with the economy in ruins, I’d like be able to recognize money when I see it. Please just leave it alone.

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Dates

Pitted dates taste good, but geez, it’s a struggle to put the creepy-looking things in my mouth and chew them. They look like dead cockroaches!

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The Adventure of Peeps: Part V

This is actually last Sunday’s post, so I’m going to add the usual “apologies” tag to this post. Sorry! I’ll try to get another installment out later this week. For the first part of the story, click here.

The toad led Peeps down a path through the swamp. She minced along, hating the way the saturated ground gave way beneath her paws and how the mud squelched between her toes. Creepy chirps erupted all around the pair, but Peeps could not see the chirpers. A greenish fog hid everything but the ferns on the edge of the path. “Ugh! This is a terrible place!” said Peeps. She sniffed the air, trying to pierce the fog barrier with her sense of smell. “And what sort of horrible creatures are making those sounds?”

“Those are spring peepers,” said the toad.

Peeps wondered if they were like her, since they had a similar name.

“Stupid frogs!” said the toad, answering Peeps’s unspoken question. “They spend so much time up in the trees, singing about love, they have no idea what the world is really like. But I do!” spat the toad. “I know which side my bread is buttered on!”

Peeps would have liked some butter, but the toad did not offer to share.

A fern twitched on the side of the path, then another. Something was moving toward them.

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A Couple More

I hate it when I fall behind on my book reviews. I forget a lot of the details and consequently have little to say. C’est la vie. Here’s what little I have to say on two books I read earlier this year.

The Blue Fairy Book edited by Andrew Lang
Grade: A

It took a while for The Blue Fairy Book to win me over. I expected a lot from it, having heard about Lang’s colorful series of fairy-tale books many times before and having forgotten how simplistic fairy tales typically are. But it was the simplicity that eventually turned me around. Sometimes simple is best. I particularly enjoyed reading versions of classics like Little Red Riding Hood, Sleeping Beauty, Cinderella, Aladdin and the Wonderful Lamp, Rumpelstiltzkin, etc. that were slightly different from the stories I remember hearing as a child. Often they were darker. I also liked some of the tales that I had never heard before, including one in which the hero ultimately failed (such a novelty!).

I wouldn’t call this collection of tales perfect. A couple of them are too much alike, some have elements that don’t really make sense (e.g., a hill of glass), and some are not told as well as others. Nevertheless, it is an excellent introduction to fairy tales and fun reading for adults as well as children.

The Twenty-One Balloons by William Pène du Bois
Grade: A-

After years of working as an arithmetic teacher, Professor William Waterman Sherman wanted to get away from it all. He thought a long trip in a balloon would be ideal, so he had a balloon basket built large enough to function as a house. He stocked it with everything he could possibly need, then he hitched it to a big balloon and away he went.

The best way of travel . . . if you aren’t in any hurry at all, if you don’t care where you are going, if you don’t like to use your legs, if you want to see everything quite clearly, if you don’t want to be annoyed at all by any choice of directions, is in a balloon. In a balloon you can decide only when to start, and usually when to stop. The rest is left entirely to nature. How fast you will go and where is left to the winds. It is a wonderful way to travel.

The professor didn’t get to decide when to stop, though, and he was stranded on the island of Krakatoa. Krakatoa is a real island famous for a huge volcanic eruption in 1883, the same year that this story takes place. What the professor found on the island and how he escaped the eruption make for humorous reading.

I think that The Twenty-One Balloons, with its focus on balloons and gadgetry, is most suited to young boys and middle-aged men, but it’s a funny story that almost anyone should be able to appreciate. It teeters on the edge of tediousness a few too many times, however, which is why it gets an A- rather than a solid A.

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Feeling Stretched

I feel all thin, sort of stretched…like butter that has been scraped over too much bread.—Bilbo in The Fellowship of the Ring by J.R.R. Tolkien

I feel like that some days. To use that quote is to compare our son to the One Ring, which is a little over the top, but he certainly does rule us both.

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Glass Act

I love glass. I always have. When it’s worked into interesting shapes, I find it hard to resist. I’m not the only one to feel that way, which is why so many glass items are collectible.

Glass insulators have always fascinated me with their many shapes and colors. I haven’t seen a lot of them outside of junk shops, so imagine how happy I was when I leaned out the window of my office and saw this:

Insulator 2

Certain glass insulators are quite collectible. I was curious about mine, so I looked it up (you can see in the picture that it’s a Hemingray-20). Assuming I identified it correctly, it’s worth $3-$5. Jackpot!

People who collect glass insulators are very serious about their hobby and there seem to be some really good websites out there. I found everything I needed to know about Hemingray insulators at Hemingray.info and got the price estimate at Grampa Mac’s Insulator Emporium [Editor’s note 7/18/26; alas, the Grampa Mac’s website is defunct].

I only stayed at those sites long enough to identify my insulator. I didn’t dare look too long at those beguiling bits of glass or read too much about their history, because if I got hooked on the subject then I’d have to collect them. Then I’d spend all day every day at eBay, half of it buying insulators and the other half selling things to make room for my new collection.

I jest, but such things have been known to happen before. Take for example the case of Willys Jeep.

Willy's Jeep

I’ve had this cute little glass jeep since I was a kid. I owned the thing for years and never thought much about it. Then, one day, I was sitting at my computer and had the brilliant idea to look up Willys Jeep on the Internet. I knew there had to be some sort of story behind it, and there was.

Willys Jeep is a candy container. As used to plastic as we are now, it’s hard to imagine small items like candy containers being made from glass, but that’s how it was. And, because they were made in a variety of shapes, like animals and buildings and vehicles, kids used them as toys after they finished the candy.

I looked at picture after picture of glittering candy containers on eBay and I fell in love. I just had to buy more. I stuck to the transportation theme, buying only trains, planes, automobiles, fire engines, tanks, and boats. That may sound limiting, but it really wasn’t. To buy one of every type would have cost a fortune, because there were so many and some were exceptionally rare. I only bought the cheap ones, but I still spent plenty.

Years later, I still love all my antique glass dust collectors, but I’m wary of the collecting bug. That’s why I will look out my window every once in a while and really enjoy the sight of my glass insulator, because it’s the only one I’m ever going to own.

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Round 4

We went back to the used book store one more time. Here are my new acquisitions.

  1. The Stuff of Fiction: Advice on Craft by Douglas Bauer: It starts with a quote from a fairy tale that I just read, and since I’m on a fairy tale kick, this book was clearly meant to come into my possession.
  2. The Cat Who Came for Christmas by Cleveland Amory: Cute premise, and just about time to start thinking about Christmas.
  3. Mermaids on the Moon by Elizabeth Stuckey-French: This and the following title by the same author sounded like they might be funny, and I am in serious need of some light and humorous books. I promise not to hold the author’s hyphenated name against her (even though I think hyphenated names are silly).
  4. The First Paper Girl in Red Oak, Iowa by Elizabeth Stuckey-French
  5. On We Go: Reading for Meaning: A book for children that has some cute stories for kids. This copy used to belong to the Boston school committee.
  6. An Infinite Number of Monkeys by Les Roberts: Fun title!
  7. The Way We Talk Now: Commentaries on Language and Culture from NPR’s “Fresh Air” by Geoffrey Nunberg: I love both language and NPR, so why not?
  8. Bunnies and Their Hobbies by Nancy Carlson: An innocuous book with cute pictures, perfect for children.
  9. The Stupidest Angel by Christopher Moore: Yes. I do already have a copy of this book. I thought it might make a good Christmas present.

Total cost: Free (my books fit in the bag with Faithful Reader’s books and consequently did not cost a penny)

That was our last trip to the store. It closes on Friday. I am sorry to see it go, but I am grateful for all the inexpensive books.

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