FeeFiFoto Blog

If You Can't Stand The Book, Try The Movie

You know how sometimes they make movies based on books so you can just watch the movie and pretend you know what you're talking about when someone mentions the book?  Or you can even show the movie to your kids because it's completely the same as reading the story? 

Not that I've ever done that, but I've heard of some careless, neglectful parents who do.

Well, back in the days when movie tickets cost a nickel and if you wanted to see the movie again you had to either pay another nickel or hide under the seats until the lights went back down and it was pointless to wait for the movie to come out on video because there was no such thing as video and recording a movie off of a television broadcast wasn't a reliable alternative since nobody owned televisions, you couldn't simply show your kids the movie to get them to stop nagging you to read them the story.  You might, however, be able to find stories on the radio (radio: it's that thing in the car dashboard that you can use to tune in to baseball games when you're not texting, emailing, shaving or snacking).

It just so happens that Orson Welles (remember him?  Citizen Kane?  any of this ringing a bell?) operated this intellectualistic theater company that broadcast productions on CBS radio.  One Sunday night, just before Halloween 1938, Orson and his colleagues broadcast a play based on H.G. Wells's (no relation) War of the Worlds, updated to present day and integrated into a seemingly innocuous fake ballroom music program.  The music was interrupted by fake news bulletins reporting the discovery of strange metal cylinders in New Jersey (of all places) and the subsequent rampage of Martians, until some mysterious virus brought them down in a way mere humans couldn't because Jeff Goldblum hadn't even been born yet.

Well.  Even though the program was introduced by an announcement that it was just a dramatization... and even though this announcement was repeated several times throughout the show... and even though radio listings in the newspaper for that evening announced an hour-long radio play called War of the Worlds...

People across the country went nuts.

Here's a long excerpt from a much longer article that appeared in the New York Times on October 31, 1938.

"A wave of mass hysteria seized thousands of radio listeners... last night when a broadcast of a dramatization of H. G. Wells's fantasy, "The War of the Worlds," led thousands to believe that an interplanetary conflict had started with invading Martians spreading wide death and destruction in New Jersey and New York.

The broadcast... disrupted households, interrupted religious services, created traffic jams and clogged communications systems... At least a score of adults required medical treatment for shock and hysteria.

In Newark, in a single block… more than twenty families rushed out of their houses with wet handkerchiefs and towels over their faces to flee from what they believed was to be a gas raid…

Throughout New York families left their homes, some to flee to near-by parks. Thousands of persons called the police, newspapers and radio stations… seeking advice on protective measures against the raids.

The radio play, as presented, was to simulate a regular radio program with a "break-in" for the material of the play. The radio listeners, apparently, missed or did not listen to the introduction, which was: "The Columbia Broadcasting System and its affiliated stations present Orson Welles and the Mercury Theatre on the Air in `The War of the Worlds' by H. G. Wells."

They also failed to associate the program with the newspaper listening of the program, announced as "Today: 8:00-9:00--Play: H. G. Wells's `War of the Worlds'--WABC." They ignored three additional announcements made during the broadcast emphasizing its fictional nature.

Mr. Welles opened the program with a description of the series of which it is a part. The simulated program began... An announcer remarked that the program would be continued from a hotel, with dance music. For a few moments a dance program was given in the usual manner. Then there was a "break-in" with a "flash" about a professor at an observatory noting a series of gas explosions on the planet Mars.

News bulletins and scene broadcasts followed, reporting… the landing of a "meteor" near Princeton N. J., "killing" 1,500 persons, the discovery that the "meteor" was a "metal cylinder" containing strange creatures from Mars armed with "death rays"…

Telephone lines were tied up with calls from listeners or persons who had heard of the broadcasts. Many sought first to verify the reports. But large numbers, obviously in a state of terror, asked how they could follow the broadcast's advice and flee from the city, whether they would be safer in the "gas raid" in the cellar or on the roof, how they could safeguard their children…"

Tee hee.

Seventy years later it is kind of funny, although I definitely would have been among the first to run screaming from the room.

Anyway -- it just so happened that I own a recording of the original radio broadcast of War of the Worlds.  It looks like this:

And it sounds like this:

I don't know why I own this record.  I bought it a long time ago, probably around the same time I bought the soundtrack to Star Wars. Even though I've forgotten why I own it, though, I remembered that I own it, and even where it was, and I showed it to Cupcake and then took her to my parents' house so she could listen to the record on a real turntable, since I haven't had one of those for years.

Frankly, she was more interested in operating the turntable and asking questions about records (what do you mean you have to turn it over?) than listening to the recording, but I feel I've done my job and I'm finished with War of the Worlds in any form.

When the group chooses Moby Dick, I'm off duty.

More Of What I've Been Reading Lately

Provenance: How a Con Man and a Forger Rewrote the History of Modern Art, by Laney Salisbury and Aly Sujo, 2009

I've cruised museums and galleries with more than my share of smugness over how knowledgeable, worldly and sophisticated I must be to recognize and enjoy the work of great artists.  Then along comes Provenance, the meticulously detailed true crime story (hey, art forgery is a crime, isn't it?) of John Myatt, a down-and-out, reasonably talented artist who gets caught up in a complex forgery scheme orchestrated by John Drewe, a chronic liar who variously portrays himself as a nuclear physicist, professor, historian, army officer, and weapons expert.  The con man ropes the painter into creating paintings in the styles of famous artists.  Meanwhile, Drewe creates false provenance using documents torn from vintage books and stolen from museum libraries.

This book made me slightly paranoid.  Now I glance sideways at the art in my home and think "Ah haaahh... is this the real thing?  Or is it fake?  It could be fake and how would I know?  I'd never know.  I've been duped, I just know it!"

Lately I recognize new advantages to decorating with my kids' artwork.  At least I know it's authentic.

This book was as exciting as any fiction thriller.  Even my mother praised it and if you knew my mother you'd be just as surprised as I am.  I had only one issue with Provenance, though: where are the pictures?  Seriously, there's not one photo of the characters, documents or artworks, forged or otherwise, although there is a very useful cast of characters at the beginning to which I referred many times.  But really -- a book about pictures with no pictures?

__________________________________________________________________

Freedom Summer: The Savage Season That Made Mississippi Burn and Made America a Democracy, by Bruce Watson, 2010

What do I remember about Freedom Summer?  Nothing.  I know 1964 was the summer my parents took my sister and me to Florida, where we tried to catch fish in the hotel lobby fountain, then commandeered an elevator for possibly an entire afternoon, until a couple of bellboys caught up with us.  Little wonder we didn't take another family vacation until I was 12. 

As I was wreaking havoc in Miami, dozens of college students, mostly white, were traveling to Mississippi to register black Americans who'd been cheated out of their constitutional rights by white neighbors claiming that Negroes neither needed nor wanted the vote.  Since no more than 7% of the state's black population was registered before 1964, the white opponents of black suffrage claimed this proved their point; they conveniently failed to acknowledge that beatings, shootings, harassment, threats, vandalism, and murder probably served as effective deterrents.  The story partially revolves around the murders of three Freedom Summer workers, Michael Schwerner, James Chaney, and Andrew Goodman; the search for their bodies; and the 40-year campaign for justice against their killers. 

This is a story everyone needs to know.  It's a story of how wrong things can be; how insults and barbarism can be counteracted gradually through years of effort by many dedicated people; how you just possibly might not be right simply because you claim to be.

_________________________________________________________________

In Cold Blood, by Truman Capote, 1965

 

The first time I read In Cold Blood, in my twenties, I had no living daylights left in me to speak of.  The story of a quadruple murder on a prosperous Kansas farm before Thanksgiving in 1959, the search for the killers, their trial and hanging, made me quiver like a feather, and not in a good way.  I've avoided rereading literature's original non-fiction novel for fear of another succession of sleepless, freaked-out nights, but this summer, due to a new interest in Truman Capote, I gritted my teeth and determined to read it again even if I had to confine my reading to daylight hours, turn all the lights on, lock the doors and engage the burglar alarm. 

But this time -- no willies, no heebie-jeebies.  Nothing but utter engrossment in a charismatic story that flows like the music of Beethoven. 

The fact that I made it through In Cold Blood with no trouble this time must indicate that I'm jaded and more cynical than I was in my 20s.  Maybe a dose of cynicism isn't so bad; I suppose I'd be an insufferable bore if I were as delicate and innocent now as I was back then.

____________________________________________________________________________

The common thread in all these books?  Deception, especially self-deception.  How Capote's killers convinced themselves that all their problems and issues and challenges were the fault of someone else, certainly not themselves, and how even their victims were somehow to blame for their own murders.  How John Myatt convinced himself that what he was doing wasn't really hurting anybody and was bringing in much needed money to support his family, and how John Drewe convinced everyone he encountered, including himself, that he was brilliant and entitled.  The scene near the end where Drewe tirades about his innocence and the injustice of putting him on trial for forgery is especially poignant.  And finally, how many, but not all, Mississippi whites convinced themselves that terrorizing their black neighbors who wanted to vote was appropriate and even decreed by the Lord.

What I've Been Reading Lately

Hattie McDaniel: Black Ambition, White Hollywood, Jill Watts, 2007

Hattie McDaniel should be a permanent Hollywood icon: a singer, a comedian and, as anyone knows who's paid due attention to her performance as Mammy in Gone with the Wind, a gifted actress who could have conquered any role brilliantly, a la Tom Hanks.  Because of her race, McDaniel was pigeon-holed as a domestic worker or minstrel show performer in every movie role she ever played.  Small consolation that she paved the way for so many talented actors; she deserved better. 

Despite the heavy-handedness and occasional inaccuracies in the prose (McDaniel's full name is overused, and at least one photograph is mislabeled), this story of the neglect of an extreme talent is touching and maddening.

_________________________________________________________

Fifth Avenue, 5 A.M.: Audrey Hepburn, Breakfast At Tiffany's and the Dawn of the Modern Woman, Sam Wasson, 2010

Ahh -- Audrey Hepburn.  I'm swooning a little bit right now.  The face.  The dress.  Who is there who doesn't adore Audrey Hepburn?

This book is the captivating story of the making of one of the most beloved films out there, a film based on a novel about a carefree hooker and her gay best friend during World War II. 

Sound familiar?  No?  That's because the movie's producers, paralyzed by anxiety over having to sell as a hooker a star who might as well have been a certified princess, dumbed down the original story to get it past the censors and the public.  Gay narrator becomes straight gigolo in love with Holly.  Hooker becomes party girl.  Instead of disappearing to South America and then Africa, Holly retrieves her nameless cat, kisses "Fred," and they presumably stay together. Mickey Rooney does a resoundingly  unfortunate turn as a Japanese photographer with ridiculously squinty eyes and such a crowd of teeth that he looks like he's wearing somebody else's dentures along with his own.

The result?  A somewhat generic (in 2010 terms, that is; it was groundbreaking in 1961) love story about a girl looking for her place in the world.

Still, the narrative nimbly transports the reader, especially the parts about how Henry Mancini created a completely fresh musical idiom, and why Blake Edwards's miraculous cocktail party scene, which lasts about ten minutes, took a week to film.

_________________________________________________________

What Is Life Worth?: The Unprecedented Effort to Compensate the Victims of September 11th, Kenneth Feinberg, 2006

 

Kenneth Feinberg, currently charged with administering the $20 billion BP fund to compensate those harmed by the Gulf oil spill, wrote this memoir about his role as Special Master of the federal September 11th Victim Compensation Fund.  This is the story of the humanity Feinberg invested in attempting to help ease the pain of the inhuman events of September 11, 2001.  He and his law firm tackled the job pro bono, spending months meeting with every potential claimant to determine eligibility for compensation and arrive at a fair settlement.  "Poignant" doesn't begin to describe the tone of this book; one of the most wrenching vignettes comes near the end, when Feinberg describes his profound sadness at being unable to get through to seven families so paralyzed by grief that they were unable to apply to the compensation fund, even though he and his staff begged to be allowed to fill out all the paperwork for them.

Independence Day Is Just The Beginning: Bizarre July Holidays

Make personalized calendars even more personal with the addition of peculiar dates; here are some for July. 

The kids and I design calendars for our family on our web site, FeeFiFoto, and in addition to the usual birthdays and anniversaries, we choose one day each month for a fictitious holiday just to see if anyone is paying attention. January 16 was Talk Like Pirates Day, February 24 was Walk Backwards Day, March 1 was Talk Really Fast Day, August 17 was Snowball Fight Day, and November 2 was Kiss Your Mom Day. We also acknowledged some legitimate holidays and anniversaries, like the Ides of March (March 15), Beethoven's Birthday (December 16) and the anniversary of Paul Revere's Ride (April 18). It was fun and silly.

Don't forget: as of today, June 30, there are 177-odd days left until Christmas.  Why not begin designing holiday calendars now?

1
Canada Day
Creative Ice Cream Flavor Day
Build A Scarecrow Day
Second Half of the Year Day

Duh

2
Visitation Of The Virgin Mary Day
I Forgot Day
Thurgood* Marshall, b. 1908

Really?  I Forgot Day?  Seriously?

3
Stay Out Of The Sun Day
Compliment Your Mirror Day
Disobedience Day
George M. Cohan, b. 1878

 

4
National Country Music Day
Tom Sawyer Fence-Painting Day
Rube Goldberg, b. 1883

You'll need that napkin to wipe the melting ice cream off your face and hands.

5
Workaholics Day
P.T. Barnum, b. 1810

6
National Fried Chicken Day
John Paul Jones, b. 1747

Fried chicken goes well with ice cream.

7
National Strawberry Sundae Day
Chocolate Day

Every day is Chocolate Day, isn't it?

8
Video Games Day

9
National Sugar Cookie Day
Nicola Tesla, b. 1856

Sugar cookies go well with ice cream.  And chocolate.

10
Clerihew Day
Don't Step on a Bee Day

11
National Cheer Up The Lonely Day
E.B. White, b. 1899

12
International Town Criers Day
National Pecan Pie Day

Pecan pie goes well with ice cream.

13
Gruntled Workers Day
Fool's Paradise Day

14
National Nude Day

 
15
Blame Respect Canada Day
National Tapioca Pudding Day
Rembrandt Van Rijn, b. 1606

16
International Juggling Day

17
National Peach Ice Cream Day
Art Linkletter*, b. 1912

18
National Ice Cream Day
National Caviar Day
Red Skelton, b. 1913

19
Flitch Day
National Raspberry Cake Day

20
Ugly Truck Contest Day
Mood Day
National Lollipop Day

21
National Tug-Of-War Tournament Day
Isaac Stern, b. 1920

22
Ratcatcher's Day
Hammock Day
Alexander Calder, b. 1898

23
National Vanilla Ice Cream Day
Hot Dog Day
Harold "Pee Wee" Reese, b. 1918

24
Amelia Earhart Day

I've always wondered who'd be brave enough to use an Amelia Earhart postage stamp.  Wouldn't you worry that your letter would be lost?

25
Threading The Needle Day

26
All Or Nothing Day
Vivian Vance, b. 1912

27
Take Your Pants For A Walk Day (graphic from the BBC)
Walk on Stilts Day

28
National Milk Chocolate Day
Beatrix Potter, b. 1866

29
Cheese Sacrifice Purchase Day
Chili Dog Day

30
National Cheesecake Day
Emily Bronte, b. 1818

Cheesecake goes well with ice cream.

31
Parent's Day

*Spellcheck offered Thursday, and Newsletter

Bamboozled: The Advantages Of Planting The Right Sort Of Bamboo In The Yard

Last week we did it.  Planted bamboo, I mean.  Here are a couple pictures of the little tykes:

Why bamboo?  First, personal reasons. 

We live on a very wooded property, which means we have lots of volunteer moss, weeds and miscellaneous plants, along with thousands and millions of leaves every fall.  What we don't have a lot of is grass, or, as some might put it, lawn. 

 

Photo originated here.

I tried planting sod and grass seed, which would enthusiastically flourish the first summer, and never return.  It took me a couple years to catch on but catch on I finally did, that while the grass seemed to enjoy summering with us, for some reason we weren't the best of year-round grass hosts, and after a winter slumbering in the shade, the grass moved to greener pastures every spring.

So I planted ivy, in anticipation of a thick, lush yard of dark green springy vines.  Every year I planted a little more ivy.  And every year... I planted a little more ivy.  Yet there never seemed to be any more ivy than when I'd started.  Finally the guy who cuts my weeds (since I have no grass) summoned the courage to suggest that maybe ivy doesn't like the acid from the oak leaves. 

So I crossed ivy off my list.

And then I read an article in the New York Times about bamboo that suggested using it as a ground cover.  And I thought, Hey!  I have ground!  And it needs covering!  Bamboo might do.

Second, environmental reasons.

According to the Times:

"Bamboo is a workhorse at sequestering carbon dioxide and pumping out oxygen. It is a tough plant that manufactures its own antibacterial compounds and can thrive without pesticides."

Additionally:

"As a natural and renewable resource bamboo offers an opportunity to turn away from the destruction of native forests towards managed commercial plantations that can be selectively harvested annually without the destruction of the grove or stand. Tree plantations obviously have to be chopped down and their nutrient arrest terminated at harvest. Bamboo keeps on keeping on, with edible shoots capable of extraction after less than five years. ...  bamboo can be harvested without the destruction of the grove or stand.

Bamboo minimizes CO₂ gases and generates up to 35% more oxygen than equivalent stand of trees."

That sequestering carbon dioxide thing made so much sense I felt quite stupid for not figuring it out myself without having to be told so by the New York Times.  Here's how it works:

• Bamboo, like all plants, sucks in carbon dioxide and emits oxygen.
• The carbon  dioxide becomes part of the plant, making it a carbon-based life form (a characteristic it shares with Paris Hilton).
• The carbon remains locked in the plant instead of being released into the atmosphere.
• The angels sing, the ozone layer is repaired and global warming is stopped in its tracks, although, sadly, Paris Hilton is still at large.

But bamboo grows like... a weed, I suppose.  And the last thing I need is the burden of maintaining my property with a machete in an attempt to subdue a plant:

Image from Movie Dearest

Thank goodness Nature thinks of everything.  Who knew?  There are TWO kinds of bamboo: 

"One can divide bamboos into “Runners” and “Clumpers”. The Clumpers don’t invade. To remove a clumper, just dig it out (and transplant it.) Runners can be well-behaved in cold climates, but some kinds when in a warm climate, and given plenty of water, can become a serious problem. Don’t plant a runner in a small yard in a warm climate, unless you put a barrier around it.

Homer running

If new shoots of bamboo are coming up all over your yard, it is a running bamboo. To get rid of it, there are four steps:

1. Cut it off.

2. Cut it down.

3. Water and fertilize the area, to cause new growth.

4. Cut it down again. And again."

And again and again and again.

See, it's that "again and again and again" part I can live without.

But there are many varieties of Clumping bamboo.  Clumping bamboo, unlike horizontally spreading bamboo, sends out individual rhizomes, allowing the plant to spread only a few inches a year and maintain its original shape.

And... GOOOOOOOOAL!  We have a slow-growing ground cover that helps renew the environment and can stand up to shade and leaves and acid and Miss Puppy.

Take that, weeds.

Bar Mitzvah Final Report -- Maybe

Try to read this:

cldn't blv tht cld ctll ndrstnd wht ws rdng. Th phnmnl pwr f th hmn mnd ccrdng t rsrch tm t Cmbrdg nvrst, t dsn't mttr n wht rdr th lttrs n wrd r, th nl mprtnt thng s tht th frst nd lst lttr b n th rght plc.  Th rst cn b ttl mss nd y cn stll rd t wtht prblm.  Ths s bcs th hmn mnd ds nt rd vr lttr b tslf, bt th wrd s whl.  Sch cndtn s pprprtl clld Typglcm.

All vowels (including the letter Y when used as a vowel) have been eliminated.  Do you have any idea what's being said?  Some of the words, such as "ndrstnd" and "mprtnt", make sense if you're the kind of person who abbreviates when taking notes or making a shopping list, but the rest of it is blah blah blather.

Now try it this way:

I cdnuolt blveiee taht I cluod aulaclty uesdnatnrd waht I was rdanieg The phaonmneal pweor of the hmuan mnid Aoccdrnig to rscheearch taem at Cmabrigde Uinervtisy, it deosn't mttaer in waht oredr the ltteers in a wrod are, the olny iprmoatnt tihng is taht the f!rist and lsat ltteer be in the rghit pclae.  The rset can be a taotl mses an you can sitll raed it wouthit a porbelm.  Tihs is bcuseae the huamn mnid deos not raed ervey lteter by istlef, but the wrod as a wlohe.  Such a cdonition is arppoiately cllaed Typoglycemia.

The difference is that the second paragraph includes all the required letters in the wrong order; your brain rearranges the letters to form real words and make sense.

Why am I bothering telling you this?  Because the difference between the two above paragraphs illustrates the challenge Robespierre had to face in preparing for his Bar Mitzvah.

The highlight of a Bar Mitzvah comes when the boy reads from the Torah.  The Torah is formidable -- it's hand written in Hebrew by trained scribes who use a feather quill, special ink and specially prepared parchment.  Anything resembling a vowel is eliminated in the inking of the Torah, so the reader has to guess at pronunciation based on the context of the narrative. 

Why produce a document containing nearly 80,000 words and a total of 304,805 letters (how many more would it be with the vowels thrown in?) without providing any vowels to help you along the way?  I don't know -- maybe G-d really wanted to make sure the Jews were truly committed to being Jewish before laying on them all the benefits (matzah balls) and drawbacks (plain matzah - blech) that come with being a Jew.  Maybe G-d didn't want the Hebrew scribes to suffer from carpal tunnel or writer's (scribe's?) cramp. 

I wish I could say I'd figured out this next part myself; let's just say I'm proud I remembered reading about it somewhere so I could dig it up and quote it here:

Alphabets with vowels tend to be written from left to right. Those, like biblical Hebrew, that contain only consonants but not vowels, tend to be written from right to left.

The left brain is analytical, detached, linear and logical. It splits things into their components. The right brain is holistic, integrative, even intuitive. It is good at recognising patterns and handling personal relationships, including nonverbal expressions. It plays a big part in emotional intelligence.

The left hemisphere controls the right side of the body, and vice versa. When we move our head to the right, we are using the left hemisphere. When we move it to the left, we are bringing the right hemisphere into play.

When we read something written in an alphabet, like English, that contains vowels, each word is more or less intelligible on its own. So we can use the linear, sequential left brain, which controls rightward movement, which is why English is written from left to right.

Not so when we read a text written in an alphabet without vowels. Imagine English without vowels. The letters ht, for example, might mean any of hot, hat, hit, hut, heat or hate. How do you tell which? Only by understanding the context, and perhaps even how the sentence ends. For that you need to use the integrative and holistic right brain, which controls leftward motion. That is why vowel-less alphabets tend to be written from right to left.

So the reading of Hebrew is more arduous than just studying letters and learning how to pronounce the words they form, since in Hebrew the vowels on which we English readers depend to give words much of their kick and personality, are left up to the reader's best guess.  This challenge is even more pronounced if the reader is a left brain kind of guy who's unaccustomed to reading between the lines to pin down the meaning of a story (Robey, put your hand down).

Many people who prepare for a Bar Mitzvah learn a Torah portion, rattle it off from memory, thank their parents and then head off to the bank to deposit checks.

Now Robespierre, whatever he may be, is not what I'd call inherently intuitive.  He's a concrete thinker: a math guy.  If you ask him about a story he's read he'll regale you with all sorts of details about what happens and then what happens and what happens next, and very likely will never get to the end.  If you ask him to discuss the theme or interpret the meaning he'll change the subject.  Reading Hebrew, a right to left language that requires a lot of creative speculation, would not seem to come naturally to him.

But he did it, and not only did he do it but he absolutely blew it away.  He chanted his Torah portion and all the related Hebrew prayers and readings confidently and fluently, speaking out boldly and bravely with no hesitation.

Is it because he's so brilliant that he pulled it off splendidly, without a hitch?  Is it because young people's flexible brains are better able to pick up unfamiliar concepts than a brain like mine, for instance?  Is it because he has a hidden and previously untapped resource of right braininess?

Who knows?  I'm not even sure I want to know.  I do know that Robey has an awful lot to be proud of.

Cupcake's next.

Dear State Senator

Dear State Senator:

Next time you're standing on the Senate floor debating a fellow state senator and hoping to make yourself appear big and important and well-informed and stuff, and you describe yourself as a Jesse James aficionado and announce that Jesse James, in an interview, once said he robbed banks because that's where the money is, please be aware of the following:

1. Jesse James (the outlaw Jesse James, not Sandra Bullock's husband), one of the most notorious outlaws in United States history, was never interviewed by anyone for any reason.  With a $5000 bounty on his head offered by the Missouri governor, no one would have bothered to "interview" him when they only had to bring him in dead or alive to collect a substantial reward.
2. The outlaw who supposedly claimed to rob banks because "that's where the money is" was Willie Sutton, 1901-1980.
3. Anyone claiming a childhood fascination with Jesse James (the outlaw Jesse James, not Sandra Bullock's husband) ought to know the difference.
4. When you bungle a quotation supposedly made by someone on whom you claim a degree of expertise, you make yourself look like a blockhead.

Thank you for your support.

Blue Is The Color Of Heaven

I went to college and law school in New Orleans, where many houses look as if they were decorated by a crazy person with a glue gun and a whole lot of jelly beans.

Like this:

Image found here

and this:

and this:

This image and prior image from here.

One might think the city was planned by Emilio Pucci.  Or, if you prefer, Hunter Thompson.

I live in the Midwest, where all the houses are brown.  Or tan.  Or white.

Although we did have one house in our neighborhood that was all pink: Pink mailbox.  Pink shutters.  Pink door.  Pink gas meter.  They were peculiar.  Or they sold Mary Kay. Same thing.

We don't see candy colored houses where I live.  We're somber.  We're drab -- or dreary -- or dare I say -- colorless.

Israel. 

Israel is not colorless by any means. 

In all of Jerusalem, every building, by law, must be faced with a golden limestone referred to as "Jerusalem Stone."  Every structure, even generic apartment blocks, blushes with golden and pinkish warmth:

The holy city of Safed (alternatively spelled Zefat, or Tsvat, or Zfat, or Newark) is the seat of Kabbalah, the school of thought concerned with Jewish mysticism.  According to Kabbalah tradition, the color blue symbolizes Heaven; many buildings in Safed / Zefat / Tsvat / Tsfat / Paramus are ornamented inside and out with brilliant blue:

 

In Israel flowers can be yellow:

or white:

or purple:

Fruits can be purple too:

Spices can make you think of fireworks before you even taste them:

 

And clothing can make you want to facepalm until you pass out and awake with amnesia:

I kind of miss the audacity of brilliant colors.

If April Showers Bring May Flowers, What Do Mayflowers Bring?

Making personalized calendars even more personal with the addition of peculiar dates; here are some for April.

FeeFiFoto has been producing personalized photo calendars as a core part of our business since we were established.  For a long time our designs and features were relatively unchanged, but we added a bunch of new templates, a thousand or so pieces of clip art, and the capacity to arrange photos in collages instead of being limited to a single photo per page.  We've always had a feature that lets you enter your own family birthdays, anniversaries or special events.

Think about how smart and well-informed you'll be appear when you casually flaunt your knowledge of such esoteric dates as National Peanut Butter and Jelly Day, or Jayne Mansfield's birthday.

Here's a list of essential April dates.

1
One Cent Day
International Fun At Work Day
Sergei Rachmaninoff, b. 1873

Children's Book Day
National Peanut Butter and Jelly Day
Buddy Ebsen, b. 1908

Perfect: pack up some PBJs and read some books to children

3
Tweed Day
Don't Go To Work Unless It's Fun Day
Washington Irving, b. 1783

4
Tell-A-Lie Day

5
Deep Dish Pizza Day
Go For Broke Day
Booker T. Washington, b. 1856

6
Sorry Charlie Day
Butch Cassidy, b. 1866

7
No Housework Day
Billie Holliday, b. 1915

8
Draw a Picture of a Bird Day
All Is Ours Day
Sonja Henie, b. 1912
Betty Ford, b. 1918

9
Cherish an Antique Day
Winston Churchill Day
Name Yourself Day 

10 
National Siblings Day
Golfers Day 

11 
International "Louie Louie" Day
Eight-Track Tape Day 

12 
Look Up At The Sky Day

Tiny Tim, b. 1912

13 
Blame Somebody Else Day
Thomas Jefferson, b. 1743

Go ahead -- blame Jefferson if you must.

14 
Be Kind to Lawyers Day
Moment of Laughter Day
National Pecan Day 

15 
Rubber Eraser Day
Leonardo Da Vinci, b. 1452
Henry James, b. 1843

16 
National Stress Awareness Day
Wear your Pajamas to Work Day
National Eggs Benedict Day
Wilbur Wright, b. 1867
Charlie Chaplin, b. 1889

Yeah, it might be a little stressful to be caught at work in your PJs.

17 
Blah Blah Blah Day
National Cheeseball Day 

18 
International Jugglers Day
Paul Revere's Ride, 1775

19 
Garlic Day
Jayne Mansfield, b. 1933

20 
Look Alike Day 

21 
Kindergarten Day 
Charlotte Bronte, b. 1816

22 
National Jelly Bean Day
Earth Day
Vladimir Lenin, b. 1870

Lenin liked jelly beans, didn't he? No, wait -- that was Ronald Reagan.

23 
Talk Like Shakespeare Day
Read Me Day
World Laboratory Animal Day
William Shakespeare, b. 1564

24 
National Pigs In A Blanket Day 

25 
National Zucchini Bread Day
Ella Fitzgerald, b. 1918

26 
Richter Scale Day
National Pretzel Day 

27 
Tell A Story Day 

28 
Great Poetry Reading Day
Kiss-Your-Mate Day 

29 
National Shrimp Scampi Day
Duke Ellington, b. 1899

30 
National Honesty Day

See also: Strange Holidays

Be honest: did you know that April 30th was National Honesty Day before I told you?

Visit FeeFiFoto to create personalized photo calendars with all kinds of unusual holidays.

Love Hate Relationship

Many commentators agree that the Number 1 advertising campaign of the 20th century was Doyle Dane Bernbach's Think Small campaign for Volkswagen, begun in 1959.  Advertising Age describes this campaign as "a watershed, discernibly changing the culture of advertising or the popular culture as a whole."  Think Small is cited regularly by advertising analysts for its simplicity, minimalism and cleverness, which defied generally accepted standards of the time that ads should be packed with words, garish images and exhortations to consume conspicuously.  It's difficult to reproduce the print ads in a blog so as to make them readable, so click here for an excellent article about the VW ad campaign.

I remember these ads. My mother, a former advertising copywriter, still raves about their creativity and innovation.  The ads were lovable and they made the VW Beetle lovable too. I've always had a soft spot in my heart for VW Beetles because of the understated cleverness of the Think Small campaign.

But lately I'm beginning to question my affection for VW, precisely because of their advertising.  Specifically, I'm starting to hate this commercial that appeared during this year's Super Bowl: Want to know why? Because ever since this ad appeared, my kids insist on punching me, or each other, in the arm whenever they see a VW.

Even when I'm driving.  On the freeway.

Curse you Volkswagen. 

Maybe.

What are your favorite ads?

Tallis? Tallit? Oh, Let's Call The Whole Thing Off

When a Jewish boy becomes a Bar Mitzvah, he usually wears a yarmulke and a tallit during the service.  A yarmulke is a skullcap worn mostly by Jewish men, although some women do choose to wear them.

The Pope wears one too, but I'm fairly certain he's not Jewish.

There's no specific law or commandment requiring Jews to cover their heads; rather, Jews who choose to wear yarmulkes wear them as a continuous reminder to respect G-d.  As Jews we're all about respecting G-d.  Respecting G-d is the basis for everything we do.  That, and food.  We Jews are also all about food.

A tallit (or tallis) is a four-cornered garment with precisely knotted fringes attached to each corner.  Jewish men (and some women) wear tallit in fulfillment of the commandment to wear fringes at the edges of garments as a reminder of the 613 mitzvot (laws or commandments) Jews are required to follow throughout each day and year.  You might ask yourself, Why are there 613 mitzvot?

Look!  A squirrel!!! 

Generally the mitzvot make a lot of sense.  There are commandments to love other Jews and not to hate them (two separate commandments; guess this concept is important), not to be superstitious (yeah, tell that to my grandma), and not to muzzle an ox while plowing. 

I have to wonder why the prohibition against murder doesn't appear until #482.  I thought this one would be important enough to show up in the Top Ten.

What?  Shut up.

In the olden days, when my mother was attending high school with Julius Caesar (thank G-d my mother doesn't read this blog), most garments consisted of large squares roughly the size and shape of bed sheets, so it wasn't difficult to attach fringes to the corners.  These days finding an appropriate way to place fringes on men's clothing is a bit more challenging, unless you had this in mind:

I love this coat.  I might even dream about this coat.

In cases where it might not be suitable to wear the knee-length indigo denim masterpiece, men can wear tallit.

So why am I bothering telling you this?

Because I made this for Robespierre:

It's his own personal tallit.  For his impending Bar Mitzvah.

This was supposed to be the back but Robey likes it as the front.  His tallit, his choice.

I knitted it.  Each row contains 300 stitches, so if you multiply that by the number of rows you come up with somewhere in the neighborhood of eleventy-billion stitches.  In fact, I enjoyed making it so much that I made it twice.  From start to finish.  Because the first time the edges came out curly and it looked girly* so I tore it apart and started allllll over.  I had a rabbi tie the fringes but I didn't want to put it on the floor with the fringes to take pictures of it, so these are the BEFORE shots.

I'm pretty proud of it, and of Robespierre.  It looks great on him and I know he'll do it justice when he reads from the Torah in June.

Soon I have to start knitting one for Cupcake.  Hers will have pink.

*Why isn't girly in my dictionary?  Spellcheck wanted girdle or Giraldo.

Peculiar January Dates: Want Some?

Make personalized calendars even more personal with the addition of peculiar dates; here are some for January.

FeeFiFoto has been producing personalized photo calendars as a core part of our business since we were established. For the 2007 Christmas season we added a bunch of new templates, a thousand or so pieces of clip art, and the capacity to arrange photos in collages instead of being limited to a single photo per page. We've always had a feature that lets you enter your own family birthdays, anniversaries or special events.

Last year the kids and I designed calendars for our family, and in addition to the usual birthdays and anniversaries, we chose one day each month for a fictitious holiday just to see if anyone was paying attention. January 16 was Talk Like Pirates Day, February 24 was Walk Backwards Day, March 1 was Talk Really Fast Day, August 17 was Snowball Fight Day, and November 2 was Kiss Your Mom Day. We also acknowledged some legitimate holidays and anniversaries, like the Ides of March (March 15), Beethoven's Birthday (December 16) and the anniversary of Paul Revere's Ride (April 18). It was fun and silly.

Here are some silly, and real (supposedly) holidays you can add to photo calendars.

January

1
First Foot Day
Z Day
Paul Revere, b. 1735
Betsy Ross, b. 1752

2
Run Up The Flagpole and See If Anyone Salutes Day

3
Festival of Sleep Day
J.R.R. Tolkien, b. 1892

4
Trivia Day
Humiliation Day
Louis Braille, b. 1809

5
National Bird Day
George Reeves, b. 1914

6
Bean Day
Cuddle Up Day
Joan of Arc, b. 1412

7
Old Rock Day
Millard Fillmore, b. 1800
Charles Addams, b. 1912

8
Bubble Bath Day
Butterfly McQueen, b. 1911
Soupy Sales, b. 1926
Elvis Presley, b. 1935

9
Play God Day
Richard Nixon, b. 1913
Bob Denver, b. 1935

10
Peculiar People Day
Grigori Rasputin, b. 1869
Ray Bolger, b. 1904

Yay!  We have our own day!

11
Step in a Puddle and Splash your Friends Day
Alexander Hamilton, b. 1755

12
National Pharmacist Day

13
Make Your Dream Come True Day
Blame Someone Else Day
International Skeptics Day

14
Dress Up Your Pet Day
Benedict Arnold, b. 1741

15
National Hat Day
Aristotle Onassis, b. 1906
Martin Luther King, b. 1929

16
National Nothing Day
Ethel Merman, b. 1908

Image from here

17
Ditch New Year's Resolutions Day
Benjamin Franklin, b. 1706
Anne Bronte, b. 1820
Al Capone, b. 1899
Eartha Kitt, b. 1927
Shari Lewis, b. 1934

18
Winnie The Pooh Day
Thesaurus Day
Oliver Hardy, b. 1892

19
Popcorn Day
Robert E. Lee, b. 1807
Edgar Allan Poe, b.1809
Janis Joplin, b. 1943

20
Buttercrunch Day
Penguin Awareness Day

21
Squirrel Appreciation Day
National Hugging Day
Thomas "Stonewall" Jackson, b. 1824

Personally I appreciate penguins more

22
National Answer Your Cat's Question Day
National Blonde Brownie Day

23
National Handwriting Day
National Pie Day
John Hancock, b. 1737

...but not Pi Day

24
Beer Appreciation Day
Compliment Day

25
Opposite Day
Robert Burns, b. 1759
Virginia Woolf, b. 1882

26
Spouse's Day
Paul Newman, b. 1925

27
Punch the Clock Day
Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, b. 1756
Lewis Carroll (Charles Lutwidge Dodgson), b. 1832
Donna Reed, b. 1921

28
Rattlesnake Roundup
Fun At Work Day
Jackson Pollack, b. 1912

29
National Corn Chip
National Puzzle Day

Want a personalized photo puzzles?

30
National Escape
National Inane Answering Machine Message Day
Franklin D. Roosevelt, b. 1882

31
Backward Day

As opposed to Opposite Day, see above

Oh, and the last Monday of January is National Bubble Wrap Appreciation Day.

December Already? Add Strange Dates To Personalized Calendars Just To See If Anyone's Paying Attention

Make personalized calendars even more personal with the addition of peculiar dates; here are some for December.

FeeFiFoto has been producing personalized photo calendars as a core part of our business since we were established. For the 2007 Christmas season we added a bunch of new templates, a thousand or so pieces of clip art, and the capacity to arrange photos in collages instead of being limited to a single photo per page. We've always had a feature that lets you enter your own family birthdays, anniversaries or special events.

Last year the kids and I designed calendars for our family, and in addition to the usual birthdays and anniversaries, we chose one day each month for a fictitious holiday just to see if anyone was paying attention. January 16 was Talk Like Pirates Day, February 24 was Walk Backwards Day, March 1 was Talk Really Fast Day, August 17 was Snowball Fight Day, and November 2 was Kiss Your Mom Day. We also acknowledged some legitimate holidays and anniversaries, like the Ides of March (March 15), Beethoven's Birthday (December 16) and the anniversary of Paul Revere's Ride (April 18). It was fun and silly.

Here are some silly, and real (supposedly) holidays you can add to photo calendars.

December

1
Eat a Read Apple Day
National Pie Day
Mary Martin, b. 1913

I thought Pi Day was in March.

2
National Fritters Day
Charles Ringling, b. 1863
Georges Seurat, b. 1859

3
National Roof Over Your Head Day

4
Wear Brown Shoes Day
Francisco Franco, b. 1892

It's my understanding that Generalissimo Francisco Franco is still dead.

5
National Sacher Torte Day
George Armstrong Custer, b. 1839

6
Gazpacho Day
National Mitten Tree Day
Ira Gerswhin, b. 1896
Agnes Moorehead, b. 1906

7
Cotton Candy Day
Harry Chapin, b. 1942

8
Take It In The Ear Day
Mary Queen of Scots, b. 1542

9
National Pastry Day
Margaret Hamilton, b. 1902

We seem to have a witch theme in December...

10
Festival for the Souls of Dead Whales

11
National Noodle Ring Day
Fiorello LaGuardia, b. 1882

A bit odd of his parents to name him after an airport, don't you agree?

12
National Ding-A-Ling Day

13
Ice Cream Day
Violins Day

14
National Bouillabaisse Day
Nostradamus, b. 1503

Kind of witchy, no?

15
National Lemon Cupcake Day

16
National Chocolate Covered Anything Day
Ludwig van Beethoven, b. 1770

17
National Maple Syrup Day
Underdog Day

18
National Roast Suckling Pig Day

19
Oatmeal Muffin Day

20
Games Day
Harvey Firestone, b. 1868

21
Look at the Bright Side Day
National Flashlight Day
Hamburger Day
Frank Zappa, b. 1940

22
National Date-Nut Bread Day
Connie Mack, b. 1862

23
Roots Day

24
National Egg Nog Day
Ava Gardner, b. 1922

25
National Pumpkin Pie Day
Sir Isaac Newton, b. 1642
Conrad Hilton, b. 1887
Cab Calloway, b. 1907

26
National Whiners Day

27
National Fruitcake Day
Louis Pasteur, b. 1822

28
Card Playing Day
National Chocolate Day

29
Pepper Pot Day
Charles Goodyear, b. 1800

I prefer Michelins

30
National Bicarbonate of Soda Day
Festival of Enormous Changes at the Last Minute
Rudyard Kipling, b. 1865

31
Unlucky Day
Henri Matisse, b. 1869

Declaration Of Independence Composed By My Fourth Grader: Interesting Homework Assignments

The assignment was to compose your own version of The Declaration of Independence, without reading the original first. 

Here's what Cupcake produced, with, I swear, no help from me or anyone else:

We the citizens of the United States of America hereby declare independence against England. We believe that monarchy is a poor form of government and we should live in a democracy. We will vote and make laws together. We will decide our taxes fairly. We will rule all in one place, not 3000 miles away from each other. We will rule better than the British Empire ever has because we will choose our leaders fairly, not just let them rule because they were born with the power. The British shall tell us what to do no more. We believe that King George III, King of England in this year, 1776, has done many things wrong, and we know that while we govern ourselves, we shall not repeat these mistakes. King George permitted the British parliament to tax us without a representative. Because of that, we were given horrible taxes and laws such as the Stamp Act, the Townshend Duties, the Declaratory Act, the Coercive Acts (which consisted of the Boston Port Act, the Quartering Act, the Administration of Justice Act, and the Massachusetts Government Act) and the Tea Act.

We are now the United States of America, free and happy in our own country. No longer are we the 13 Colonies, enslaved by the power of the British. No longer shall we pay un-approved taxes. No longer shall we give our money to the British for their selfish reasons and unworthy causes. No longer shall we endure the tyranny of King George. No longer shall we do as the British say. Now we shall open our arms to embrace the new life we have chosen to take. Now we are free! And that is why, on this day, July 4th , 1776, we declare independence!

I covered the American Revolution in 4th grade too.  We spent a considerable amount of time talking about linsey-woolsey, wooden teeth, and chopping down cherry trees.

Are your children getting a better education than you got?

No Need To Watch These

I usually concentrate on the needs of my readers, but occasionally I indulge in a touch of egocentricism.  I'm posting these to create a permanent record of the acting genius of Cupcake The Narrator.

There's no obligation to watch these or leave a comment.  Nobody will pull up stakes, move to North Dakota and become a hermit if you don't visit Cupcake's blog and leave her a compliment.  No sirree bob -- no one's keeping score, no one knows where you live, and no one has a garage full of toilet paper which might accidentally on purpose end up entwined in your trees.  Nope.

__________________________________________________________________

In honor of Black Friday, Cyber Monday and, what the heck, Cyber Week, through December 5 Order Personalized Photo Ornaments from FeeFiFoto before midnight on December 5 and receive 20% off. Apply coupon code ORNAMENTS09 at checkout.

Offer Expires: December 5, 2009

What's your Favorite November Holiday? No Fair Choosing Thanksgiving

Order personalized photo calendars from FeeFiFoto as outstanding Christmas gifts, but make your calendars even more personal with the addition of peculiar dates.

November seems to be a month to celebrate scads of creative innovators, including James Naismith, Madame Curie, Margaret Mitchell, Marie Antoinette, Aaron Copland, Georgia O'Keeffe and Voltaire.  See if anyone notices if you add some of these kooky dates to your 2009 personalized photo calendars.

November

1
Plan Your Epitaph Day
National Authors Day
My Birthday!

Strange And Bizarre October Holidays

Order personalized photo calendars from FeeFiFoto as outstanding Christmas gifts, but make your calendars even more personal with the addition of peculiar dates.

October's much more than Halloween.  In fact, we might refer to October as National Comedian Month; we have two Stooges and two Marx Brothers.  Let's tabulate them, shall we?

Oh, and by the way -- you may recall that I published a similar post once a long, long time ago -- but this is new and improved, with great dates like Cranky Co-Workers Day

1
World Vegetarian Day
Magic Circles Day
International Day of Older Persons
Vladimir Horowitz, v. 1903

2
National Diversity Day
World Smile Day
Name Your Car Day

In a fit of creativity while reading Paradise Lost in college, I named my first car "Beelzebub"

Bud Abbott, b. 1895
Groucho Marx, b. 1890

Two for one

Grandma Wasn't Always Right: There's More Than One Way To Make Soup

I've discovered how to make soup that's entirely worth the effort

Grandma's Chicken Soup

1. Place one chicken (not too big, not too small) in a pot and just cover it with water.  Simmer.
2. For the next hour stand over the pot skimming foam and scum and schmaltz (chicken fat, which is great for flavoring mashed potatoes if you can enjoy them despite the threat of imminent heart attack).
3. Simmer until it's done.
4. Remove chicken, cool and cut meat off bones, adding some back into the broth and saving the rest for the palest chicken salad west, or east, of the Mississippi.
5. Salt copiously.
6. Add big chunks of onion, celery and carrots (live dangerously -- add a parsnip too.  Make sure to remove the wax coating first.  Woohoo.)
7. Simmer until vegetables are soft and limp.
8. Retrieve vegetables from the bowls of kids and adults who insist their food contain no green stuff, orange stuff or slippery white stuff.

This is how I've made soup for as long as I've been cooking.  There have been occasional experiments and errors, like the time I added giblets, including the liver (bleargh), but generally the soup is the same: pale yellow, salty, full of mushy or slippery vegetables.  Chicken soup is meant to be bland.  Really, is there any flavor to chicken soup other than salt?  You slurp it and try not to drop the vegetables or splash on your clothes.

Granted, when you're sick, there's nothing like chicken soup to help you feel better.  Just the thought of it is comforting.  But tasty?  No.

Julie and Julia may have changed my life.

In 2005 I picked up the memoir of a directionless young woman who challenges herself to blog about preparing every recipe in Julia Child's Mastering the Art of French Cooking in 365 days.  I loved when she tried to hack open a cow's leg bone with the only substantial knife she owned, working in a kitchen about the size of my kitchen table, only to learn later that the butcher gladly would have sawed it open for free if only she'd thought to ask.  I loved how she despaired and nearly gave up, only to be rescued by the pleas of a readership she didn't even know existed. 

(Hello, all my thousands of lurking readers out there!  I know you love my blog, even though you don't leave comments.  I can just sense it.)

She accomplishes her goal, builds a fan base, sells her story, does loads of interviews, signs a movie contract, buys new clothes, meets Meryl Streep but does not get played by her, and lives happily ever after, dining on Chinese takeout for the remainder of her days.  Or something like that.

I saw the film because I liked the book; because I like Meryl Streep and Amy Adams; because I loved Dan Ackroyd's take on Julia Child.  I saw the film because I like to cook.

A few weeks before the movie opened I came across a book called Proust Was a Neuroscientist, by Jonah Lehrer.  The author's thesis is that some writers, composers, painters and even chefs, instinctively uncover scientific truths before scientists get there first.  The chapter on Auguste Escoffier, the early 20^th French century master chef, caught my imagination most vividly.  Escoffier discovered how to stimulate an as yet unidentified taste receptor on the tongue for... deliciousness.

According to Lehrer:

"After the meat was cooked in the hot pan... the meat was taken out to rest, and the dirty pan, full of delicious grease and meat scraps, was deglazed.

Deglazing was the secret of Escoffier's success.  (A liquid, such as wine, vinegar or even water, is added to the pan after the meat is removed.)  As the liquid evaporates, it loosens the fronde, the burned bits of protein stuck to the bottom of the pan...  The dissolved fronde is what gives Escoffier's sauces their divine depth."

Is your mouth watering?  This might help.

Take a napkin as you ponder: Why is your mouth watering?  Why is the mere description of beef stock enough to compel you to Google Julia's cookbook, currently on the bestseller lists, 48 years after it was first published?

Your taste buds are recalling Umami, (not the latest Pokemon, although it sounds like one), which is a Japanese term for deliciousness.  According to the Times:

"There are at least five basic tastes: sweet, sour, salty, bitter and the most recently discovered, umami. This last flavor, which means “savory” in Japanese, can be detected in miso, soy sauce and other Asian foods, particularly those that contain monosodium glutamate."

And, according to Lehrer:

"Glutamic acid [the amino acid that gives meat its flavor] is itself tasteless.  Only when the protein is ionized by cooking, fermentation, or a little ripening in the sun does the molecule degenerate into L-glutamate, an amino acid that the tongue can taste...

Of course, umami is ... the reason that meat - which is nothing but amino acid - tastes so darn good.  If cooked properly, the glutamate in meat is converted into its free form and can then be tasted...

And of course, umami also explains Escoffier's genius.  The burned bits of meat in the bottom of a pan are unraveled protein, rich in L-glutamate.  Dissolved in stock, which is little more than umami water, these browned scraps fill your mouth with a deep sense of deliciousness."

Deliciousness.  Dee-lish-us-ness.  It's what makes a char-grilled burger irresistible.  It's what makes you fantasize about Grandma's brisket just now, simply because I mentioned it.  It's the key to cooking meat.

I read the books.  I saw the movie.  Since I'm not as dumb as I look, I put 2 and 2 and 2 together and realized: Hey!  Grandma got it wrong!

Sorry Gram.  Stop swinging the handbag at me.  We still love you.

Chicken soup is bland because the process of boiling fails to summon the umami hidden in the meat.

I'd stumbled on this fact after making soup out of a Thanksgiving turkey carcass I couldn't stand to throw away but was too lazy to spend an hour dismantling; the result was richer and more satisfying than plain chicken soup, even though my kids refused to let me add wild rice because they have this thing about eating any food that starts out black.  But until I read about Escoffier, and saw "Julie" make boeuf bourguignon in her phone booth sized kitchen, it had not occurred to me that I could get the same result on purpose, by cooking the meat before putting it in the soup.

I've never been too good at recognizing patterns.

Last week I roasted soup bones for thirty minutes, placed them in a pot of water, sloshed some more water around the roasting pan to pick up every remnant of meat, and then simmered the entire concoction for -- wait for it -- 12 hours. 

Actually, it was more like twelve hours broken up into four hour increments, because I had to go to bed.  I don't know how Escoffier did it.  He must have had a team of kitchen slaves.  I have two clingy dogs hoping I'll drop something on the floor.  I'm fairly certain that I wouldn't be able to rely on them to keep a watchful eye on soup as it simmered overnight.

After removing the fat and shredding the meat off the bones, I sauteed chopped carrots, celery and onions, which I added to the soup pot, along with a cup of barley and some water.

I'd post a photo of the rich and healthy soup that resulted from my exploration, except for two things:

1. I dislike any kind of food photographs, and
2. We ate it all up

Meanwhile, Little Miss and Miss Puppy are having a glorious time quarreling over the leftover bones.

Have you ever learned something new when you thought you already knew everything there was to know?

Here's Another Reason To Admire Walter Cronkite

From the New York Times obituary of this great man:

"In 1954, when CBS challenged NBC’s popular morning program “Today” with the short-lived “Morning Show,” it tapped Mr. Cronkite to be the host. Early on he riled the sponsor, the R. J. Reynolds Tobacco Company, by grammatically correcting its well-known advertising slogan, declaring, “Winston tastes good as a cigarette should.” "

It's a sad irony that such a great mind should have succumbed to dementia.

Photoshop Phriday Winner

Did you guess what the photo was?  Let me refresh your memory.

Here's the puzzle photo:

And here's the actual object:

It's a Russian Nesting Doll, or "Matryoshka."  In provincial Russia, "Matryona" and "Matriyosha" were popular female names, derived from the Latin root "mater" (mother) and evoking the image of the healthy and zaftig mother of a big family. Eventually Matryoshka came to refer to the nesting dolls modeled after such women and their families. The first Russian nesting doll contained 8 pieces: a girl with a black rooster, then a boy, then another, finishing with a baby in the center.  Some nesting dolls are devoted to historical or storybook characters. 

For much more detailed information on the history of Russian nesting dolls, click on Russian Legacy.

And our first correct commenter Mrs. Marine.

Now wasn't that just gangs of fun?  Come back soon and play again.