Who uses it: Mafiosi
What it means: A fully-sworn member of an Italian crime family.
How you can use it: To identify your own inner circle.
Forming emotional attachments to fictional characters is one hazard of living alone... but I am not ashamed to say I can't wait for tonight's premiere of "The Sopranos." It is the only reason I subscribe to premium cable. I even considered cancelling my dinner plans (with live human beings) for this evening -- until I remembered that I can catch the West Coast feed at midnight, if I'm not home before 9:00 p.m.
HBO has been rerunning the series from the beginning over the past few months, and I've managed to watch a lot of the episodes again -- particularly Season 4, which seemed kind of dull when it first aired, but now seems brilliant in its careful construction of characters and plots that paid off in Season 5.
I can think of only two other TV series that have managed to sustain such a high level of quality over such an extended period of time: "Homicide" and "The Simpsons." (And it's a new episode of "The Simpsons" tonight, too. Maybe I should rethink my dinner plans after all...)
Last night's dinner cabaret at Maple Hill was just swell, in the best tradition of "let's put on a show!" community theater. Anna said on Friday night that it was like watching a Hallowell talent show, and that's the fun of it; who knew the spokeswoman for the Maine Emergency Management Agency had such a fantastic voice?
Sunday, March 12, 2006
Saturday, March 11, 2006
Mud season
Who uses it: New Englanders
What it means: The time after the snow melts before summer comes, when everything on the planet is covered in muck.
How you can use it: Right now.
We got three inches of snow on Thursday night, and today's temperature will be close to 50 degrees. The result is that everything -- everything -- is covered with an inch-deep layer of mud. That includes sidewalks, many streets, my parking lot, and Dizzy, who loves this time of year more than any other.
I no longer remember what color my car used to be. I haven't seen the color of its carpeting in months.
This morning I'm rushing out the door to Hallowell, because we have to move the set dressing, sound and lighting equipment from City Hall to Maple Hill Farm, the site of tonight's Gaslight Theater fundraiser. Anna, Tarren and Lek came with me to last night's performance, and a fine time it was. I'll post a longer review tomorrow.
What it means: The time after the snow melts before summer comes, when everything on the planet is covered in muck.
How you can use it: Right now.
We got three inches of snow on Thursday night, and today's temperature will be close to 50 degrees. The result is that everything -- everything -- is covered with an inch-deep layer of mud. That includes sidewalks, many streets, my parking lot, and Dizzy, who loves this time of year more than any other.
I no longer remember what color my car used to be. I haven't seen the color of its carpeting in months.
This morning I'm rushing out the door to Hallowell, because we have to move the set dressing, sound and lighting equipment from City Hall to Maple Hill Farm, the site of tonight's Gaslight Theater fundraiser. Anna, Tarren and Lek came with me to last night's performance, and a fine time it was. I'll post a longer review tomorrow.
Friday, March 10, 2006
ARC
Who uses it: Publishers and booksellers
What it means: Advance Readers' Copy, an uncorrected proof of a book distributed to booksellers, reviewers and librarians before publication.
How you can use it: When you get a sneak preview.
ARCs are the major perk of bookselling, a job that is otherwise pretty thankless. Although I no longer work inside a bookstore, my newsletter-writing for The Mystery Bookstore keeps me on the distribution list for advance copies, which means that the book storage situation in my apartment will never be under control, and my to-be-read pile will never be exhausted.
A friend with a similar problem told me not long ago that he would never again read anything he hadn't sought out for himself -- but he won't be able to keep that vow, and neither can I. If someone sends me a book for free, I feel obligated at least to look at it, and usually to read the first few chapters. Thank goodness, I no longer feel compelled to finish every book I start. Most of the ARCs I get don't merit more than fifteen minutes before I decide I don't want to read any more.
I live in terror that if I stop reading the ARCs, the publishers won't send me any more -- and then I'd miss out on the early copies of books I really do want to read, which include two of the titles in What I Read This Week.
Douglas Preston, Tyrannosaur Canyon. Doug Preston is a scholar and a gentleman who writes fascinating non-fiction and great escapist fiction, both alone and with his writing partner, Lincoln Child. His latest solo effort brings back two main characters from Codex, this time on the trail of a dinosaur fossil that could change the future, as well as our ideas about the past. As good as a vacation, and a perfect gift for any teenaged boys in your household who think reading is boring.
Harlan Coben, Promise Me. Like many of Mr. Coben's fans, I have been waiting six years for a new Myron Bolitar novel, and getting an advance copy of this one was just like Christmas. This book could be called "Myron Bolitar Grows Up," and finds the sports agent facing the issues of middle age: aging parents, the marriage of an old flame, and the adolescent perils of his friends' children. If I still ran a discussion group at the store, I'd love to have a group compare and contrast this book with Laura Lippman's To The Power of Three and Rochelle Krich's ...Now You See Me, which all explore similar issues.
Denise Hamilton, Prisoner of Memory. Seventeen years after the fall of the Berlin Wall, I sometimes get the feeling that people think of the Soviet system as rather quaint or benign, and the Cold War as a big waste of time. Denise Hamilton's latest Eve Diamond mystery does a terrific job of showing just how brutal the old regime was, and how much it cost people who suffer its effects to this day. L.A. Times reporter Eve Diamond discovers she has a long-lost Russian cousin on the same day that the teenage son of Russian emigres is killed in Griffith Park. Her personal and professional investigations lead to more violence, and the revelation of long-kept secrets. I've been recommending Denise's books for a long time to people who want to know what "the real Los Angeles" is like, but she takes a major step forward with this book.
Promise Me and Prisoner of Memory will both be in bookstores next month. Go buy them, so Putnam and Simon & Schuster will keep sending me ARCs.
What it means: Advance Readers' Copy, an uncorrected proof of a book distributed to booksellers, reviewers and librarians before publication.
How you can use it: When you get a sneak preview.
ARCs are the major perk of bookselling, a job that is otherwise pretty thankless. Although I no longer work inside a bookstore, my newsletter-writing for The Mystery Bookstore keeps me on the distribution list for advance copies, which means that the book storage situation in my apartment will never be under control, and my to-be-read pile will never be exhausted.
A friend with a similar problem told me not long ago that he would never again read anything he hadn't sought out for himself -- but he won't be able to keep that vow, and neither can I. If someone sends me a book for free, I feel obligated at least to look at it, and usually to read the first few chapters. Thank goodness, I no longer feel compelled to finish every book I start. Most of the ARCs I get don't merit more than fifteen minutes before I decide I don't want to read any more.
I live in terror that if I stop reading the ARCs, the publishers won't send me any more -- and then I'd miss out on the early copies of books I really do want to read, which include two of the titles in What I Read This Week.
Douglas Preston, Tyrannosaur Canyon. Doug Preston is a scholar and a gentleman who writes fascinating non-fiction and great escapist fiction, both alone and with his writing partner, Lincoln Child. His latest solo effort brings back two main characters from Codex, this time on the trail of a dinosaur fossil that could change the future, as well as our ideas about the past. As good as a vacation, and a perfect gift for any teenaged boys in your household who think reading is boring.
Harlan Coben, Promise Me. Like many of Mr. Coben's fans, I have been waiting six years for a new Myron Bolitar novel, and getting an advance copy of this one was just like Christmas. This book could be called "Myron Bolitar Grows Up," and finds the sports agent facing the issues of middle age: aging parents, the marriage of an old flame, and the adolescent perils of his friends' children. If I still ran a discussion group at the store, I'd love to have a group compare and contrast this book with Laura Lippman's To The Power of Three and Rochelle Krich's ...Now You See Me, which all explore similar issues.
Denise Hamilton, Prisoner of Memory. Seventeen years after the fall of the Berlin Wall, I sometimes get the feeling that people think of the Soviet system as rather quaint or benign, and the Cold War as a big waste of time. Denise Hamilton's latest Eve Diamond mystery does a terrific job of showing just how brutal the old regime was, and how much it cost people who suffer its effects to this day. L.A. Times reporter Eve Diamond discovers she has a long-lost Russian cousin on the same day that the teenage son of Russian emigres is killed in Griffith Park. Her personal and professional investigations lead to more violence, and the revelation of long-kept secrets. I've been recommending Denise's books for a long time to people who want to know what "the real Los Angeles" is like, but she takes a major step forward with this book.
Promise Me and Prisoner of Memory will both be in bookstores next month. Go buy them, so Putnam and Simon & Schuster will keep sending me ARCs.
Thursday, March 09, 2006
Prisoner's dilemma
Who uses it: Mathematicians and logicians
What it means: A situation in which two adversaries try to gain benefits by betraying each other. In the prisoner's dilemma, A and B face the same set of charges. If both A and B remain silent, both go free. If A rats out B (while B stays silent), he goes free while B serves a full prison term. If B rats out A (while A is silent), he goes free while A serves the full term. If A and B rat out each other, both serve shorter prison terms. In game theory exercises, players generally start by betraying each other, but quickly learn to cooperate.
How you can use it: When you win by trusting your partner.
The U.N. Security Council meets today to discuss Iran's nuclear program, and I don't understand why the American press isn't paying more attention to this. Today's New York Times leads with Congressional opposition to the Dubai ports management deal; the Washington Post reports on its own poll about American perceptions of Islam; and Drudge is shrieking about National Guard troops at the Arizona border.
Have I lost my mind? Am I overreacting? Can I really be the only one who sees World War III about to start in earnest, or have I lost all touch with reality?
Even if I have lost all touch with reality (quite likely), this is more important than partisan grandstanding on Capitol Hill or Tom DeLay's primary victory, as horrifying as that might be. Yes, it's even more important than David Hasselhoff's domestic violence charges or Barry Bonds' shamelessness in spring training.
Since I do not rule the world and cannot protect myself against nuclear attack, ranting about it here is as much as I can do. I can also ask anyone who might be in the Augusta area this weekend to consider attending Gaslight Theater's winter fundraising event, "Omar Ricardo and His Many, Many Women," playing tomorrow night at 7:30 at Hallowell City Hall and as dinner theater on Saturday, at 6:30, at Maple Hill Farm. Thank you for your support. (Tomorrow's term: non sequitur...)
What it means: A situation in which two adversaries try to gain benefits by betraying each other. In the prisoner's dilemma, A and B face the same set of charges. If both A and B remain silent, both go free. If A rats out B (while B stays silent), he goes free while B serves a full prison term. If B rats out A (while A is silent), he goes free while A serves the full term. If A and B rat out each other, both serve shorter prison terms. In game theory exercises, players generally start by betraying each other, but quickly learn to cooperate.
How you can use it: When you win by trusting your partner.
The U.N. Security Council meets today to discuss Iran's nuclear program, and I don't understand why the American press isn't paying more attention to this. Today's New York Times leads with Congressional opposition to the Dubai ports management deal; the Washington Post reports on its own poll about American perceptions of Islam; and Drudge is shrieking about National Guard troops at the Arizona border.
Have I lost my mind? Am I overreacting? Can I really be the only one who sees World War III about to start in earnest, or have I lost all touch with reality?
Even if I have lost all touch with reality (quite likely), this is more important than partisan grandstanding on Capitol Hill or Tom DeLay's primary victory, as horrifying as that might be. Yes, it's even more important than David Hasselhoff's domestic violence charges or Barry Bonds' shamelessness in spring training.
Since I do not rule the world and cannot protect myself against nuclear attack, ranting about it here is as much as I can do. I can also ask anyone who might be in the Augusta area this weekend to consider attending Gaslight Theater's winter fundraising event, "Omar Ricardo and His Many, Many Women," playing tomorrow night at 7:30 at Hallowell City Hall and as dinner theater on Saturday, at 6:30, at Maple Hill Farm. Thank you for your support. (Tomorrow's term: non sequitur...)
Wednesday, March 08, 2006
Affective viscosity
Who uses it: Psychologists and behaviorists
What it means: The tendency to prolong contact with other people, and to talk repetitively and in excessive detail about a narrow range of subjects.
How you can use it: The next time you're cornered.
Did you know there was a name for this? It happens to everyone -- someone decides that they really, really need you to understand something, and isn't going to let you go until you do. Of course, it has nothing to do with your understanding; it's about their need to feel understood, which you have no control over. It's my worst nightmare -- not just being the recipient of this, but doing it to other people.
People who consistently behave this way, however, often suffer from some kind of temporal lobe disorder -- epilepsy, or a lesion, or a traumatic head injury of some kind. They might or might not be aware that they do this, and they're probably incapable of changing their behavior. Medication can help, but not always.
Years ago, I met an anthropologist who studied customs of parting. He said that Westerners are very bad at saying goodbye to each other; we're great at greetings, but we slip away from each other without acknowledging the departure. I've noticed this ever since, not least because I'm bad at goodbyes myself. For me, it's a matter of fear -- if I say goodbye, will that be the end?
And is becoming good at "goodbye" something we should aspire to?
What it means: The tendency to prolong contact with other people, and to talk repetitively and in excessive detail about a narrow range of subjects.
How you can use it: The next time you're cornered.
Did you know there was a name for this? It happens to everyone -- someone decides that they really, really need you to understand something, and isn't going to let you go until you do. Of course, it has nothing to do with your understanding; it's about their need to feel understood, which you have no control over. It's my worst nightmare -- not just being the recipient of this, but doing it to other people.
People who consistently behave this way, however, often suffer from some kind of temporal lobe disorder -- epilepsy, or a lesion, or a traumatic head injury of some kind. They might or might not be aware that they do this, and they're probably incapable of changing their behavior. Medication can help, but not always.
Years ago, I met an anthropologist who studied customs of parting. He said that Westerners are very bad at saying goodbye to each other; we're great at greetings, but we slip away from each other without acknowledging the departure. I've noticed this ever since, not least because I'm bad at goodbyes myself. For me, it's a matter of fear -- if I say goodbye, will that be the end?
And is becoming good at "goodbye" something we should aspire to?
Tuesday, March 07, 2006
Blueline
Who uses it: Printers
What it means: A printer's mock-up of pages ready for printing, made from film on photo-sensitive paper; the last stage at which an editor can make changes before printing.
How you can use it: When you're looking at a final draft.
Digital printing has made bluelines nearly obsolete, for most printing jobs, and that's a mixed blessing. Our digital world has made proofreaders sloppy; I just finished reading another book that was full of misspellings and typographical errors.
On the other hand, technological improvements have ended printers' long tyranny. When I first started writing a weekly newsletter, in the early 1990s, I lived in terror of making changes at the blueline stage -- not only because it was expensive, but also because it annoyed my printer so much. But I know I was much more careful back then.
We're living in a virtual world. I went to a concert last night with my friend Matt, although he lives in New York, I live in Maine, and the concert was in Washington, D.C. Belle and Sebastian were playing at the 9:30 Club, streaming audio on National Public Radio; Matt and I were listening and chatting via Instant Message. Instead of standing in a smoky club with a plastic cup of wine in my hand, I was sitting on my living room sofa, sipping a mug of Theraflu (yes, I'm catching another cold). I am a complete geezer. Also, I need some real speakers for my laptop.
The crack about geezer-dom is a little too close to home this morning, after news of two deaths -- from natural causes -- of people who were roughly my contemporaries. Kirby Puckett is dead at 45, from a stroke, and Dana Reeve is gone at 44, from lung cancer. How does that happen? Terribly unfair, and sad beyond words.
What it means: A printer's mock-up of pages ready for printing, made from film on photo-sensitive paper; the last stage at which an editor can make changes before printing.
How you can use it: When you're looking at a final draft.
Digital printing has made bluelines nearly obsolete, for most printing jobs, and that's a mixed blessing. Our digital world has made proofreaders sloppy; I just finished reading another book that was full of misspellings and typographical errors.
On the other hand, technological improvements have ended printers' long tyranny. When I first started writing a weekly newsletter, in the early 1990s, I lived in terror of making changes at the blueline stage -- not only because it was expensive, but also because it annoyed my printer so much. But I know I was much more careful back then.
We're living in a virtual world. I went to a concert last night with my friend Matt, although he lives in New York, I live in Maine, and the concert was in Washington, D.C. Belle and Sebastian were playing at the 9:30 Club, streaming audio on National Public Radio; Matt and I were listening and chatting via Instant Message. Instead of standing in a smoky club with a plastic cup of wine in my hand, I was sitting on my living room sofa, sipping a mug of Theraflu (yes, I'm catching another cold). I am a complete geezer. Also, I need some real speakers for my laptop.
The crack about geezer-dom is a little too close to home this morning, after news of two deaths -- from natural causes -- of people who were roughly my contemporaries. Kirby Puckett is dead at 45, from a stroke, and Dana Reeve is gone at 44, from lung cancer. How does that happen? Terribly unfair, and sad beyond words.
Monday, March 06, 2006
Logrolling
Who uses it: Legislators and lobbyists
What it means: Agreeing to vote on a colleague's pet project in exchange for his or her vote on your pet project. This is how our deficit grows.
How you can use it: When making deals.
The Latin phrase for this is Manus manum lavat, "One hand washes the other." I haven't heard of logrolling among Oscar voters, but it wouldn't surprise me.
I watched most of the Oscars at the Lechners' last night. We agreed that Jon Stewart did well; we were shocked that Jessica Alba, who otherwise looked beautiful, was chewing gum on the red carpet; we wanted to arrange to kidnap Keira Knightley and force-feed her Whoopie Pies.
The show got a little too self-congratulatory at times -- I got very tired of hearing about Sony's "bravery" in producing Memoirs of a Geisha -- bravery? What was controversial about Memoirs of a Geisha, for heaven's sake? But I was delighted to see Wallace & Gromit win, and glad to see Crash take Best Picture. Not only is it a good movie, but -- in a nice example of logrolling -- the facade of The Mystery Bookstore appears briefly in one of its early scenes.
I am badly over-committed today, but have to get home by 8:00 p.m., for something really cool: NPR is simulcasting a concert from Washington's 9:30 Club featuring two of my favorite bands, Belle and Sebastian and The New Pornographers. Almost makes up for not being there.
What it means: Agreeing to vote on a colleague's pet project in exchange for his or her vote on your pet project. This is how our deficit grows.
How you can use it: When making deals.
The Latin phrase for this is Manus manum lavat, "One hand washes the other." I haven't heard of logrolling among Oscar voters, but it wouldn't surprise me.
I watched most of the Oscars at the Lechners' last night. We agreed that Jon Stewart did well; we were shocked that Jessica Alba, who otherwise looked beautiful, was chewing gum on the red carpet; we wanted to arrange to kidnap Keira Knightley and force-feed her Whoopie Pies.
The show got a little too self-congratulatory at times -- I got very tired of hearing about Sony's "bravery" in producing Memoirs of a Geisha -- bravery? What was controversial about Memoirs of a Geisha, for heaven's sake? But I was delighted to see Wallace & Gromit win, and glad to see Crash take Best Picture. Not only is it a good movie, but -- in a nice example of logrolling -- the facade of The Mystery Bookstore appears briefly in one of its early scenes.
I am badly over-committed today, but have to get home by 8:00 p.m., for something really cool: NPR is simulcasting a concert from Washington's 9:30 Club featuring two of my favorite bands, Belle and Sebastian and The New Pornographers. Almost makes up for not being there.
Sunday, March 05, 2006
Leisure society
Who uses it: Sociologists and historians of the post-industrial West
What it means: A society in which people spend more time at leisure than working.
How you can use it: To describe any retirement community.
The online retailer CafePress just issued a press release describing my cousin Sheila Cameron as an example of the new leisure society, because she works from home and has been able to turn her interests into a business. (If you don't feel like following those links, and don't remember who my cousin Sheila is, she's the founder of FreeKatie.net.)
It's extremely cool that CafePress thinks Sheila's worth applauding and/or imitating -- I could have told them that, years ago -- but I wouldn't want anyone to think that Sheila's not working hard. She doesn't receive pop culture passively; she's jumping all over it, processing it and making mental connections and figuring out what people are paying attention to. She's been doing it for so long that she may not even see it as work -- but it's a true talent, and I'd even go so far as to call it a genius.
I wonder whether the term "leisure society" is becoming outdated, as more and more people are working from home and working online. People like me, and many of my friends, don't go to an office -- but we're working all the time. I get e-mails from clients every day of the week, at all hours of day and night; one of my clients regularly sends me e-mails date-stamped before 6:00 a.m. Because my job is communicating, every bit of popular culture I absorb -- books, movies, magazines, music, TV -- helps me position my clients' work in a way that stands out from all the other information their readers or listeners receive. I couldn't explain how I do it, but I know that it's as important for me to read Entertainment Weekly as it is for me to watch C-SPAN.
Is that a leisure society? I don't know. I know that I slept all day yesterday, trying to catch up with myself after two weeks on the road and a few too many projects. Daily naps... now, that would be a leisure society. Maybe I should draft a new petition.
In the meantime, go check out Sheila's latest works of genius here.
What it means: A society in which people spend more time at leisure than working.
How you can use it: To describe any retirement community.
The online retailer CafePress just issued a press release describing my cousin Sheila Cameron as an example of the new leisure society, because she works from home and has been able to turn her interests into a business. (If you don't feel like following those links, and don't remember who my cousin Sheila is, she's the founder of FreeKatie.net.)
It's extremely cool that CafePress thinks Sheila's worth applauding and/or imitating -- I could have told them that, years ago -- but I wouldn't want anyone to think that Sheila's not working hard. She doesn't receive pop culture passively; she's jumping all over it, processing it and making mental connections and figuring out what people are paying attention to. She's been doing it for so long that she may not even see it as work -- but it's a true talent, and I'd even go so far as to call it a genius.
I wonder whether the term "leisure society" is becoming outdated, as more and more people are working from home and working online. People like me, and many of my friends, don't go to an office -- but we're working all the time. I get e-mails from clients every day of the week, at all hours of day and night; one of my clients regularly sends me e-mails date-stamped before 6:00 a.m. Because my job is communicating, every bit of popular culture I absorb -- books, movies, magazines, music, TV -- helps me position my clients' work in a way that stands out from all the other information their readers or listeners receive. I couldn't explain how I do it, but I know that it's as important for me to read Entertainment Weekly as it is for me to watch C-SPAN.
Is that a leisure society? I don't know. I know that I slept all day yesterday, trying to catch up with myself after two weeks on the road and a few too many projects. Daily naps... now, that would be a leisure society. Maybe I should draft a new petition.
In the meantime, go check out Sheila's latest works of genius here.
Saturday, March 04, 2006
Racino
Who uses it: Advocates of legalized gambling
What it means: A race track that also offers casino games (usually slot machines).
How you can use it: When talking to Steve Lechner.
My friend Steve represents a group of Native American tribes that are trying to open a racino Down East -- you can read all about it here. I enjoy a day at the track, though I've never been to the harness races. Casinos aren't my idea of a good time, but I'll defend the tribes' right to make money in any way they see fit.
The Bragdons and I had dinner at the Lechners' last night, a fine time brought to us in part by the bounty of Trader Joe's. Ever since Jen discovered the glory of Trader Joe's, she's been determined that Maine should have one. She is circulating an online petition that I drafted, in an effort to convince TJ's management that we need a store here; if you are a resident of Maine, please join us in this effort by clicking here. Thanks for your support.
What it means: A race track that also offers casino games (usually slot machines).
How you can use it: When talking to Steve Lechner.
My friend Steve represents a group of Native American tribes that are trying to open a racino Down East -- you can read all about it here. I enjoy a day at the track, though I've never been to the harness races. Casinos aren't my idea of a good time, but I'll defend the tribes' right to make money in any way they see fit.
The Bragdons and I had dinner at the Lechners' last night, a fine time brought to us in part by the bounty of Trader Joe's. Ever since Jen discovered the glory of Trader Joe's, she's been determined that Maine should have one. She is circulating an online petition that I drafted, in an effort to convince TJ's management that we need a store here; if you are a resident of Maine, please join us in this effort by clicking here. Thanks for your support.
Friday, March 03, 2006
Gerrymander
Who uses it: Politicians
What it means: Redrawing the borders of a political district in order to create a demographic profile that favors one political party. "Gerrymander" comes from Elbridge Gerry, Republican governor of Massachusetts in the early 19th-century, whose legislature redrew district boundaries to favor Republicans over the Federalist party. Ironically, Gerry himself had nothing to do with this, and privately opposed the plan.
How you can use it: When you're reorganizing for a purpose.
I moved while I was away. My apartment building is in the same place as it was, and so are all my things, but my street address changed on March 1.
I discovered this when I went to pick up my mail yesterday. "You know your address changed yesterday?" the postmistress said. "Uh -- no," I said. "We notified your landlord, he was supposed to tell you."
The new address is on the same street as the old, but the number is different by about 200 -- I'm not going to post it here, but I'll send it around to anyone who needs it. I use the P.O. Box for almost all of my mail, and that address hasn't changed. The postmistress couldn't give me an explanation for the change, and I can't help but wonder whether two blocks of my neighborhood disappeared into some black hole.
Anyway, here's What I Read This Week.
Tab Hunter and Eddie Muller, Tab Hunter Confidential: The Making of a Movie Star. Eddie Muller is a charming guy and an excellent writer (one year I gave copies of his Dark City Dames to several friends for Christmas). This collaboration is a fascinating history of Old Hollywood, and Tab Hunter emerges as a nice guy with a great sense of humor about his adventures in the screen trade. Hunter takes no cheap shots and has no axes to grind, though some of his story -- his blighted romance with Anthony Perkins, for example -- is quite sad.
Karen Armstrong, A Short History of Myth. Armstrong packs a great deal into 120 pages -- enough, in fact, to make me wish this book had been about twice as long. Early in the book she asserts that humans are the only species that create myths, which made me wonder for days about what sort of myths Dizzy might come up with, if dogs were mythmakers. The point of this book is that Myth is so powerful in the human psyche that it resists all attempts to suppress it, and reinvents itself with each civilization.
Jane Smiley, The All-True Travels and Adventures of Lidie Newton: A Novel. Jane Smiley too is a wonderful writer, and I've been working my way through her Thirteen Ways of Looking at the Novel for some time now. I was completely enthralled with the first half of this book, about a young woman who marries a Massachusetts abolitionist and lights out for Kansas territory. I expected great things from the second half, and was sadly disappointed. Lidie takes risks and has adventures that not only end in failure, but seem to teach her nothing terribly profound. The book doesn't so much end as stop, and it left me feeling flat and empty, having learned nothing except that life in Kansas Territory was really, really hard. Really. Really. Hard.
What it means: Redrawing the borders of a political district in order to create a demographic profile that favors one political party. "Gerrymander" comes from Elbridge Gerry, Republican governor of Massachusetts in the early 19th-century, whose legislature redrew district boundaries to favor Republicans over the Federalist party. Ironically, Gerry himself had nothing to do with this, and privately opposed the plan.
How you can use it: When you're reorganizing for a purpose.
I moved while I was away. My apartment building is in the same place as it was, and so are all my things, but my street address changed on March 1.
I discovered this when I went to pick up my mail yesterday. "You know your address changed yesterday?" the postmistress said. "Uh -- no," I said. "We notified your landlord, he was supposed to tell you."
The new address is on the same street as the old, but the number is different by about 200 -- I'm not going to post it here, but I'll send it around to anyone who needs it. I use the P.O. Box for almost all of my mail, and that address hasn't changed. The postmistress couldn't give me an explanation for the change, and I can't help but wonder whether two blocks of my neighborhood disappeared into some black hole.
Anyway, here's What I Read This Week.
Tab Hunter and Eddie Muller, Tab Hunter Confidential: The Making of a Movie Star. Eddie Muller is a charming guy and an excellent writer (one year I gave copies of his Dark City Dames to several friends for Christmas). This collaboration is a fascinating history of Old Hollywood, and Tab Hunter emerges as a nice guy with a great sense of humor about his adventures in the screen trade. Hunter takes no cheap shots and has no axes to grind, though some of his story -- his blighted romance with Anthony Perkins, for example -- is quite sad.
Karen Armstrong, A Short History of Myth. Armstrong packs a great deal into 120 pages -- enough, in fact, to make me wish this book had been about twice as long. Early in the book she asserts that humans are the only species that create myths, which made me wonder for days about what sort of myths Dizzy might come up with, if dogs were mythmakers. The point of this book is that Myth is so powerful in the human psyche that it resists all attempts to suppress it, and reinvents itself with each civilization.
Jane Smiley, The All-True Travels and Adventures of Lidie Newton: A Novel. Jane Smiley too is a wonderful writer, and I've been working my way through her Thirteen Ways of Looking at the Novel for some time now. I was completely enthralled with the first half of this book, about a young woman who marries a Massachusetts abolitionist and lights out for Kansas territory. I expected great things from the second half, and was sadly disappointed. Lidie takes risks and has adventures that not only end in failure, but seem to teach her nothing terribly profound. The book doesn't so much end as stop, and it left me feeling flat and empty, having learned nothing except that life in Kansas Territory was really, really hard. Really. Really. Hard.
Thursday, March 02, 2006
Alford plea
Who uses it: Criminal defense lawyers
What it means: A plea that does not admit guilt, but acknowledges that the prosecution has enough evidence to convict the defendant. It differs from nolo contendere (no contest) pleas in that courts consider an Alford plea one type of guilty plea. A nolo plea is not a guilty plea -- so an Alford plea counts toward three-strikes laws, and a nolo plea doesn't. In many states, lawyers use the Alford plea as a procedural method of postponing a trial until charges are eventually dismissed.
How you can use it: When you're busted.
Has anyone been paying attention to this case in Ohio where the parents stand accused of keeping their 11 adopted children in cages? Their "mother" is pleading not guilty, on the grounds that the children asked to be kept in cages.
My friend Joseph's Boston terrier, Milo, actually does like to be in his crate -- but 1) he is a dog and 2) he is a little emotionally disturbed, due to an unpleasant experience in his early doghood that we don't like to talk about. So unless these children were left alone in an apartment with their dead first owners for some period of time (that's what happened to Milo), I'm not buying this argument.
But this was the most disturbing piece of information in the article I read:
...and this wouldn't have come up in the adoption home study?
What it means: A plea that does not admit guilt, but acknowledges that the prosecution has enough evidence to convict the defendant. It differs from nolo contendere (no contest) pleas in that courts consider an Alford plea one type of guilty plea. A nolo plea is not a guilty plea -- so an Alford plea counts toward three-strikes laws, and a nolo plea doesn't. In many states, lawyers use the Alford plea as a procedural method of postponing a trial until charges are eventually dismissed.
How you can use it: When you're busted.
Has anyone been paying attention to this case in Ohio where the parents stand accused of keeping their 11 adopted children in cages? Their "mother" is pleading not guilty, on the grounds that the children asked to be kept in cages.
My friend Joseph's Boston terrier, Milo, actually does like to be in his crate -- but 1) he is a dog and 2) he is a little emotionally disturbed, due to an unpleasant experience in his early doghood that we don't like to talk about. So unless these children were left alone in an apartment with their dead first owners for some period of time (that's what happened to Milo), I'm not buying this argument.
But this was the most disturbing piece of information in the article I read:
Sharen Gravelle said she met her husband in 1986 at a dinner for a child sex abuse support group. She said she was attending because a relative had been molested. Michael Gravelle was there because he was accused of inappropriate touching, a charge he denies. The couple married two months later.
...and this wouldn't have come up in the adoption home study?
Wednesday, March 01, 2006
Fasting and abstinence
Who uses it: Roman Catholics
What it means: "Fasting" means eating one main meal during the day, though two small meals are also allowed. "Abstinence" means not eating meat or poultry. Since Vatican II, Catholics have fasted and abstained on Ash Wednesday, Good Friday, and on Fridays during Lent. Before Vatican II, they abstained on every Friday and all through Lent.
How you can use it: Today, on Friday, and when cheating on your diet.
This is a wonderful example of a "term of art," because what Catholics mean by fasting is not what doctors mean by fasting, or what hunger strikers mean by fasting. I looked up the details of the requirement, and learned that "abstinence" does not extend to meat broths and flavorings, which are allowed, or to gelatin, an animal product, "which no one considers meat." Since I don't eat fish, abstinence in my childhood meant peanut butter and jelly, or spaghetti with melted butter and Italian seasoning.
"Can I ask you a question?" said the guy behind the counter at Sparky's Espresso Cafe this morning. He leaned toward me and said in an undertone, "Do you know you have a blotch of something on your forehead?"
I laughed, relieved that he wasn't going to tell me my nonfat cafe au lait had had a bug in it. "It's Ash Wednesday," I said.
"Oh!" the coffee man said. "That's why... there was another guy in line before you, and he had a smudge on the same place -- I didn't know what was going on."
I'm in DC again this morning. The early Mass at St. Augustine's is the Mass for their schoolchildren, which was especially nice. I should have told the coffee man what the priest told us, which is that the ashes are supposed to remind us that 1) Life is a gift; 2) Life is temporary; and 3) Life is for others.
Dizzy and I head back to Maine this morning. Thanks to everyone for their hospitality along the way.
What it means: "Fasting" means eating one main meal during the day, though two small meals are also allowed. "Abstinence" means not eating meat or poultry. Since Vatican II, Catholics have fasted and abstained on Ash Wednesday, Good Friday, and on Fridays during Lent. Before Vatican II, they abstained on every Friday and all through Lent.
How you can use it: Today, on Friday, and when cheating on your diet.
This is a wonderful example of a "term of art," because what Catholics mean by fasting is not what doctors mean by fasting, or what hunger strikers mean by fasting. I looked up the details of the requirement, and learned that "abstinence" does not extend to meat broths and flavorings, which are allowed, or to gelatin, an animal product, "which no one considers meat." Since I don't eat fish, abstinence in my childhood meant peanut butter and jelly, or spaghetti with melted butter and Italian seasoning.
"Can I ask you a question?" said the guy behind the counter at Sparky's Espresso Cafe this morning. He leaned toward me and said in an undertone, "Do you know you have a blotch of something on your forehead?"
I laughed, relieved that he wasn't going to tell me my nonfat cafe au lait had had a bug in it. "It's Ash Wednesday," I said.
"Oh!" the coffee man said. "That's why... there was another guy in line before you, and he had a smudge on the same place -- I didn't know what was going on."
I'm in DC again this morning. The early Mass at St. Augustine's is the Mass for their schoolchildren, which was especially nice. I should have told the coffee man what the priest told us, which is that the ashes are supposed to remind us that 1) Life is a gift; 2) Life is temporary; and 3) Life is for others.
Dizzy and I head back to Maine this morning. Thanks to everyone for their hospitality along the way.
Tuesday, February 28, 2006
Krewe
Who uses it: Residents of New Orleans
What it means: A carnival organization that holds a ball and a parade during the celebration of Mardi Gras. The oldest krewe is Comus, established in 1857.
How you can use it: Have your own Mardi Gras party -- and laissez les bons temps rouler.
Hanging in my kitchen are two framed prints of the Kings and Queens of Rex and Zulu, splashed in bright colors as official Mardi Gras artwork. It's as close I need to get to the actual celebration; New Orleans scared me even before the hurricane, even at non-Carnival times, and it's hard to imagine going back there any time soon.
Nevertheless, I expect to find some good times today. I'm headed north again, for lunch in Annapolis with Our Chris, and then a talk by my client, Joseph Finder, at -- of all places -- Land Rover of Alexandria. Seriously, this is part of a series hosted by the Don Beyer Volvo group, and Joe joins an elite group that includes Edward P. Jones and Andre Dubus. Click that link to RSVP, if you're interested in going.
Today is also known as Shrove Tuesday, because it was the last chance to confess your sins and be shriven before Lent. Somewhere I read that the expression "short shrift" comes from the practice of killing your enemies quickly, before they had time to receive absolution. Now that's cold.
What it means: A carnival organization that holds a ball and a parade during the celebration of Mardi Gras. The oldest krewe is Comus, established in 1857.
How you can use it: Have your own Mardi Gras party -- and laissez les bons temps rouler.
Hanging in my kitchen are two framed prints of the Kings and Queens of Rex and Zulu, splashed in bright colors as official Mardi Gras artwork. It's as close I need to get to the actual celebration; New Orleans scared me even before the hurricane, even at non-Carnival times, and it's hard to imagine going back there any time soon.
Nevertheless, I expect to find some good times today. I'm headed north again, for lunch in Annapolis with Our Chris, and then a talk by my client, Joseph Finder, at -- of all places -- Land Rover of Alexandria. Seriously, this is part of a series hosted by the Don Beyer Volvo group, and Joe joins an elite group that includes Edward P. Jones and Andre Dubus. Click that link to RSVP, if you're interested in going.
Today is also known as Shrove Tuesday, because it was the last chance to confess your sins and be shriven before Lent. Somewhere I read that the expression "short shrift" comes from the practice of killing your enemies quickly, before they had time to receive absolution. Now that's cold.
Monday, February 27, 2006
Plural marriage
Who uses it: Members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints (Mormons)
What it means: Taking more than one wife, which the rest of us call bigamy or polygamy.
How you can use it: You shouldn't, and I'll explain why.
The Mormon Church rejected the doctrine of plural marriage years ago, but the fact that they still refer to it by this term -- rather than as polygamy -- shows me, and the world, that they haven't recoiled from the idea entirely. Words are powerful. Polygamy is a crime and something practiced by cultures we consider primitive; plural marriage sounds reasonable and even kind of cozy.
I'm torn about whether to watch the HBO series "Big Love." It looks very entertaining, and I'm a big fan of Bill Paxton (A Simple Plan is one of my favorite movies, and Frailty is one of the scariest films I've ever seen). But polygamy is not benign or funny, even where it's (theoretically) voluntary.
Today is my parents' 41st wedding anniversary, so I wish Dad happy anniversary -- because it will always be their anniversary, as long as anyone is around to remember it.
What it means: Taking more than one wife, which the rest of us call bigamy or polygamy.
How you can use it: You shouldn't, and I'll explain why.
The Mormon Church rejected the doctrine of plural marriage years ago, but the fact that they still refer to it by this term -- rather than as polygamy -- shows me, and the world, that they haven't recoiled from the idea entirely. Words are powerful. Polygamy is a crime and something practiced by cultures we consider primitive; plural marriage sounds reasonable and even kind of cozy.
I'm torn about whether to watch the HBO series "Big Love." It looks very entertaining, and I'm a big fan of Bill Paxton (A Simple Plan is one of my favorite movies, and Frailty is one of the scariest films I've ever seen). But polygamy is not benign or funny, even where it's (theoretically) voluntary.
Today is my parents' 41st wedding anniversary, so I wish Dad happy anniversary -- because it will always be their anniversary, as long as anyone is around to remember it.
Sunday, February 26, 2006
Felliniesque
Who uses it: Film critics
What it means: Resembling the films of Italian director Federico Fellini; excessive to the point of surrealism, and grotesque but beautiful (or beautiful, but grotesque)
How you can use it: If you don't see opportunities every day, you're not paying close enough attention.
A bumper sticker on a pick-up truck I saw in downtown Washington said "Who would Jesus bomb?" What I love about that is that it told me nothing about whether the truck belonged to a right-wing wacko or a left-wing wacko.
If you want Felliniesque, the Olympic closing ceremonies were a good example, but deliberately so. The best Fellini moments are unselfconscious.
And before we bid arrivederci to the Torino Olympics, I'll state for the record that Bode Miller is a jerk. Were I a contributor to the US Ski Federation, I would insist that he be kicked off the team and reimburse all contributors the cost of his trip to Turin, plus the cost of all Olympics-related training and equipment. If he didn't really care so much about winning, why did he take the place of someone who might have cared a lot more? Karma is about to smack him hard, and let's hope he fades away into well-deserved oblivion.
I'm posting late today because I spent most of the day at the Virginia Aquarium with my dad, Peggy & Scott and the kids, and my sister Susan. Henry was a little concerned that all the creatures stay on their own side of the acrylic windows, but he was willing to pose for a photo inside a papier-mache shark's head. If I get a copy of that picture, I'll post it here.
Happy anniversary to my sister Kathy and her husband, Adam, who celebrate their 19th in the Navy way; he's at sea.
What it means: Resembling the films of Italian director Federico Fellini; excessive to the point of surrealism, and grotesque but beautiful (or beautiful, but grotesque)
How you can use it: If you don't see opportunities every day, you're not paying close enough attention.
A bumper sticker on a pick-up truck I saw in downtown Washington said "Who would Jesus bomb?" What I love about that is that it told me nothing about whether the truck belonged to a right-wing wacko or a left-wing wacko.
If you want Felliniesque, the Olympic closing ceremonies were a good example, but deliberately so. The best Fellini moments are unselfconscious.
And before we bid arrivederci to the Torino Olympics, I'll state for the record that Bode Miller is a jerk. Were I a contributor to the US Ski Federation, I would insist that he be kicked off the team and reimburse all contributors the cost of his trip to Turin, plus the cost of all Olympics-related training and equipment. If he didn't really care so much about winning, why did he take the place of someone who might have cared a lot more? Karma is about to smack him hard, and let's hope he fades away into well-deserved oblivion.
I'm posting late today because I spent most of the day at the Virginia Aquarium with my dad, Peggy & Scott and the kids, and my sister Susan. Henry was a little concerned that all the creatures stay on their own side of the acrylic windows, but he was willing to pose for a photo inside a papier-mache shark's head. If I get a copy of that picture, I'll post it here.
Happy anniversary to my sister Kathy and her husband, Adam, who celebrate their 19th in the Navy way; he's at sea.
Saturday, February 25, 2006
Ring job
Who uses it: Auto mechanics
What it means: Replacing the rings at the tops of each piston in an internal combustion engine. The rings keep oil out of the engine; when an engine starts burning oil, chances are the rings need replacing. It can be very expensive, and by the time most cars need ring jobs, the price of the ring job is more than the value of the car.
How you can use it: When you need to rebuild something from the fundamentals.
Another morning in Mechanicsville, with Thomas the Tank Engine and Frog and Toad Are Friends. Frog and Toad was my sister Kathy's favorite book when we were little, and I love being able to read it to my nephews. Frog's 1970s-style leisure suit looked weird to me even when it was in fashion, but my nephews don't notice. Nor does it bother them that in Richard Scarry's world, some animals wear full sets of clothing, and some wear only hats.
Dizzy and I head down to Virginia Beach this afternoon, and I need to get the Blueberrymobile's oil changed before I go back to Maine, which made me think of this term. The first car I ever owned was a 1981 Mercury Lynx that had not been maintained at all, and burned oil from almost the first day I owned it. I paid $500 for it, and within two weeks of its purchase, a mechanic told me I'd need to spend $1,100 on a ring job to make it run properly. It was not an attractive car -- dark brown, with a black interior -- and I hadn't had time to become emotionally attached to it, so I put the title in the glove compartment and called a salvage company to take it away.
But it was the car I learned to drive a standard shift on, which was worth $500. I've seen some sniping about the fact that the newly-cast James Bond, Daniel Craig, doesn't know how to drive a stick shift; I like Daniel Craig, but I couldn't suppress my own internal sneer at this news. Driving a standard shift is an essential masculine skill, like grilling and being able to change the washer in a faucet. I own my prejudices.
What it means: Replacing the rings at the tops of each piston in an internal combustion engine. The rings keep oil out of the engine; when an engine starts burning oil, chances are the rings need replacing. It can be very expensive, and by the time most cars need ring jobs, the price of the ring job is more than the value of the car.
How you can use it: When you need to rebuild something from the fundamentals.
Another morning in Mechanicsville, with Thomas the Tank Engine and Frog and Toad Are Friends. Frog and Toad was my sister Kathy's favorite book when we were little, and I love being able to read it to my nephews. Frog's 1970s-style leisure suit looked weird to me even when it was in fashion, but my nephews don't notice. Nor does it bother them that in Richard Scarry's world, some animals wear full sets of clothing, and some wear only hats.
Dizzy and I head down to Virginia Beach this afternoon, and I need to get the Blueberrymobile's oil changed before I go back to Maine, which made me think of this term. The first car I ever owned was a 1981 Mercury Lynx that had not been maintained at all, and burned oil from almost the first day I owned it. I paid $500 for it, and within two weeks of its purchase, a mechanic told me I'd need to spend $1,100 on a ring job to make it run properly. It was not an attractive car -- dark brown, with a black interior -- and I hadn't had time to become emotionally attached to it, so I put the title in the glove compartment and called a salvage company to take it away.
But it was the car I learned to drive a standard shift on, which was worth $500. I've seen some sniping about the fact that the newly-cast James Bond, Daniel Craig, doesn't know how to drive a stick shift; I like Daniel Craig, but I couldn't suppress my own internal sneer at this news. Driving a standard shift is an essential masculine skill, like grilling and being able to change the washer in a faucet. I own my prejudices.
Friday, February 24, 2006
Bridge
Who uses it: Animal trainers
What it means: An action that accompanies and eventually substitutes for a treat, as positive reinforcement for training. In clicker training, the clicker is the bridge; dogs learn to associate the clicker with a treat, so the trainer can eventually use only the clicker, without the treat. Dolphin trainers use whistles as a bridge.
How you can use it: Next time you applaud someone instead of throwing money.
Dizzy and I are in Mechanicsville, Virginia today, visiting my sister Peggy and her menagerie: my nephews Matthew and Henry, niece Meg, their dog Ella, and their three cats, Agatha, Oliver and Charlie. The cats lie low when Dizzy visits; he's not reliable around them.
Henry woke up this morning singing the only song he knows, which is the alphabet song. He understands about letters, but seems to think of the ABCs as a song with verses, which means that sometimes "L-M-N-O-P" comes before "H-I-J-K." Over breakfast, Matthew and Henry introduced me to all their engines by name (they are obsessed with the world of Thomas the Tank Engine).
Between driving and work this week, I've started four books, but only finished one. Next week's list will be longer.
What I Read This Week
Christine Wicker, Not in Kansas Anymore: A Curious Tale of How Magic is Transforming America. Christine Wicker, a religion reporter, spent a year exploring America's magical subcultures. She trained in hoodoo, partied with vampires, and attended a witches' gathering in Salem. The year tempered her skepticism -- though it didn't eliminate it altogether -- but it also made her appreciate the value of seeing connections and causation in an otherwise arbitrary universe. My own brand of Catholicism has a strong mystical streak -- for instance, I believe that St. Anthony helps me find lost things -- and I found this book enchanting, in more ways than one.
What it means: An action that accompanies and eventually substitutes for a treat, as positive reinforcement for training. In clicker training, the clicker is the bridge; dogs learn to associate the clicker with a treat, so the trainer can eventually use only the clicker, without the treat. Dolphin trainers use whistles as a bridge.
How you can use it: Next time you applaud someone instead of throwing money.
Dizzy and I are in Mechanicsville, Virginia today, visiting my sister Peggy and her menagerie: my nephews Matthew and Henry, niece Meg, their dog Ella, and their three cats, Agatha, Oliver and Charlie. The cats lie low when Dizzy visits; he's not reliable around them.
Henry woke up this morning singing the only song he knows, which is the alphabet song. He understands about letters, but seems to think of the ABCs as a song with verses, which means that sometimes "L-M-N-O-P" comes before "H-I-J-K." Over breakfast, Matthew and Henry introduced me to all their engines by name (they are obsessed with the world of Thomas the Tank Engine).
Between driving and work this week, I've started four books, but only finished one. Next week's list will be longer.
What I Read This Week
Christine Wicker, Not in Kansas Anymore: A Curious Tale of How Magic is Transforming America. Christine Wicker, a religion reporter, spent a year exploring America's magical subcultures. She trained in hoodoo, partied with vampires, and attended a witches' gathering in Salem. The year tempered her skepticism -- though it didn't eliminate it altogether -- but it also made her appreciate the value of seeing connections and causation in an otherwise arbitrary universe. My own brand of Catholicism has a strong mystical streak -- for instance, I believe that St. Anthony helps me find lost things -- and I found this book enchanting, in more ways than one.
Thursday, February 23, 2006
Alpha male (or female)
Who uses it: Animal behaviorists
What it means: In a group of social animals, the one who leads. Some groups of animals, such as wolf packs, may have an alpha pair, male and female. The alpha male is often the strongest and best fighter, but not always; among the bonobo monkeys, for example, the alpha male is the wiliest.
How you can use it: In any group activity.
Dizzy is the opposite of an alpha dog. Faced with almost any other dog, of any size, he defers almost immediately. But Lucy, a tiny Boston terrier, starts her day during my visits by jumping on my pillow and licking my face -- and Dizzy moves to block her, apparently because he is the only dog allowed to lick my face. Thank goodness, he doesn't do that very often. I love my dog, but I can wash my own face.
What it means: In a group of social animals, the one who leads. Some groups of animals, such as wolf packs, may have an alpha pair, male and female. The alpha male is often the strongest and best fighter, but not always; among the bonobo monkeys, for example, the alpha male is the wiliest.
How you can use it: In any group activity.
Dizzy is the opposite of an alpha dog. Faced with almost any other dog, of any size, he defers almost immediately. But Lucy, a tiny Boston terrier, starts her day during my visits by jumping on my pillow and licking my face -- and Dizzy moves to block her, apparently because he is the only dog allowed to lick my face. Thank goodness, he doesn't do that very often. I love my dog, but I can wash my own face.
Wednesday, February 22, 2006
The Slot
Who uses it: Newspaper reporters and editors
What it means: The copy editor's desk, and by extension, the copy editor himself (or herself). See Bill Walsh's excellent website for details.
How you can use it: When asking someone to check your work.
Greetings from downtown Washington, D.C. It's a gray, rainy day, and I am sitting in my friend Joseph's living room with three sleeping dogs arranged about me. The music on my iTunes is Johnny Cash's rendition of "That Lucky Old Sun," which I may need to change in a minute, before I do harm to myself.
I'm on deadline this morning, and -- as usual -- trying to cram too much into my short time here. Maybe tomorrow's post will be longer.
What it means: The copy editor's desk, and by extension, the copy editor himself (or herself). See Bill Walsh's excellent website for details.
How you can use it: When asking someone to check your work.
Greetings from downtown Washington, D.C. It's a gray, rainy day, and I am sitting in my friend Joseph's living room with three sleeping dogs arranged about me. The music on my iTunes is Johnny Cash's rendition of "That Lucky Old Sun," which I may need to change in a minute, before I do harm to myself.
I'm on deadline this morning, and -- as usual -- trying to cram too much into my short time here. Maybe tomorrow's post will be longer.
Tuesday, February 21, 2006
Wuh-hoopin'
Who uses it: Joseph Mathews
What it means: "Whooping" times ten, usually under the influence of an intoxicant.
How you can use it: I don't know about you, but this week is spring break for many schools in New England... and next week is Mardi Gras. Go crazy.
Joseph coined this word while describing a British reality TV show called "Ladette to Lady." I think its uses are nearly endless... so let's spread it around, but make sure to give him credit.
Dizzy and I arrived safely in Washington, DC, and it's downright balmy here. Dizzy gave me a little trouble about getting into the car in Yorktown Heights... he would be perfectly happy to stay at my Aunt Marie & Uncle Eddie's indefinitely, since they have much higher-quality snacks than he gets at my house, plus a yard inhabited by groundhogs and other creatures, plus my young cousin (once removed) Kristina, who would gladly make herself Dizzy's maidservant.
It's good for him to be here at Joseph's, where Milo and Lucy (two neurotic Boston terriers) harass him and do not let him play with their toys.
What it means: "Whooping" times ten, usually under the influence of an intoxicant.
How you can use it: I don't know about you, but this week is spring break for many schools in New England... and next week is Mardi Gras. Go crazy.
Joseph coined this word while describing a British reality TV show called "Ladette to Lady." I think its uses are nearly endless... so let's spread it around, but make sure to give him credit.
Dizzy and I arrived safely in Washington, DC, and it's downright balmy here. Dizzy gave me a little trouble about getting into the car in Yorktown Heights... he would be perfectly happy to stay at my Aunt Marie & Uncle Eddie's indefinitely, since they have much higher-quality snacks than he gets at my house, plus a yard inhabited by groundhogs and other creatures, plus my young cousin (once removed) Kristina, who would gladly make herself Dizzy's maidservant.
It's good for him to be here at Joseph's, where Milo and Lucy (two neurotic Boston terriers) harass him and do not let him play with their toys.
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