Well, it’s been quite the roller-coaster year, hasn’t it? Mainstays of capitalist industry—auto makers, real estate, banks—are collapsing like the garden shed your brother-in-law built for you “at cost”. Retailers just announced the worst sales year in 40 years—neither pre- nor post-holiday discounts-to-the-bone appear to have enticed consumers to pull their wallets out. Latest (November) unemployment figure stands at 6.7%, including 30 colleagues at my last company, who were laid off in October. The Gang of Three actually had to drive cars from Detroit to DC on their second trip to cadge loans out of Congress.
If this isn’t the road to Hell in a handbasket, it certainly is playing one convincingly on TV.
On the other hand, Americans voted resoundingly against the soon-to-be Ancien Régime, and against prejudice and fear, electing a youthful, charismatic black man, who focused his campaign on the issues and concerns we're facing, to take the reins of government. Barack Obama has a herculean task ahead of him, but I believe he and his team are going to bring us a new deal for the 21st Century.
That counts for a lot.
On a personal level it’s also been a very mixed year. I left an impossibly ghastly situation in March, pretty much counting on the Universe to help me with the transition. Through a confluence of almost silly incidents, I found myself interviewing for a job in Seattle on 5 June (six interviews from 0800 to 1800—by the time I left I didn’t have two synapses firing in sequence), being made an offer I couldn’t refuse by 0700 on 6 June, starting on 23 June and moving across country on 18 July.
I found the housing market much tighter in Seattle than DC; complicated by realizing I wouldn’t be able to sell my house with the number of foreclosures and short sales in my neighborhood. I ended up in The Rambler, which is definitely a compromise in standards.
And three weeks after moving in my beautiful tabby cat got away and was killed, leaving me absolutely gutted. I still can’t think of her without crying.
I’m working in the company of the World’s Greatest Expert (although thankfully no longer sharing an office with him), who’s a master of appropriating ideas and promulgating them as his original thought. (You also don’t want to get between him and any free food lying about.)
After leaving my snow shovel behind in Virginia, wouldn’t you know in the past two weeks Seattle has had more snow than it gets in years. And it turns out that municipal ideas of clearing roads is to tamp down the snow so that four-wheel-drive cars and front-wheel-drive cars with chains can make it through. Everyone else is pretty much housebound.
Then there’s the issue of the state-owned liquor store monopoly, which I hadn’t anticipated finding in the progressive Northwest—or anywhere outside the South.
Still, I’m learning a good deal at work and it seems to be reasonably secure in a really insecure economy. I have a new area of the country to explore—as long as it doesn’t snow—and have made new friends.
But I’m definitely burning El Año Viejo tonight to clear the decks for 2009.
Plus—shortly after I moved in to The Rambler in August, my neighbor came over to introduce himself & advise me that he & his wife host a champagne party on New Year’s Eve—and they serve Veuve Clicquot. He came by a couple of days ago to remind me that the party starts at 2330.
It’s as good a way as any to wash away the taste of the old year. Up or down, time to put it behind us.
Wednesday, December 31, 2008
Tuesday, December 30, 2008
Santé
As is only proper this time of year, Eric Felten writes about the history of hangover cures. I have to say I don’t think much of his offering; but then I’m not much of a raw-egg fan. Unless it’s in Hollandaise.
This got me thinking, so I had a little root around the Web. A quick Google turned up 749,000 results on “hangover cures”, 517,000 on “hangover remedies” and 424,000 on “hangover cures that work”.
Obviously it’s a subject of great interest to the masses.
Wikipedia gives the overview on causes, symptoms, chemistry and some cures. Evidently enough of Wall Street’s high flyers have post-pissup constricted capillaries that Forbes has weighed in. There is more than one site with prophylactic as well as remedial suggestions such as these. And there are apparently even green cures.
Well, whatever.
Me—I believe Robert Benchley’s dictum (and there was a man who knew from hangovers): “The only cure for a real hangover is death.”
This got me thinking, so I had a little root around the Web. A quick Google turned up 749,000 results on “hangover cures”, 517,000 on “hangover remedies” and 424,000 on “hangover cures that work”.
Obviously it’s a subject of great interest to the masses.
Wikipedia gives the overview on causes, symptoms, chemistry and some cures. Evidently enough of Wall Street’s high flyers have post-pissup constricted capillaries that Forbes has weighed in. There is more than one site with prophylactic as well as remedial suggestions such as these. And there are apparently even green cures.
Well, whatever.
Me—I believe Robert Benchley’s dictum (and there was a man who knew from hangovers): “The only cure for a real hangover is death.”
Monday, December 29, 2008
Disorder in the courts
This is indeed the period for year-end roundups, & the weirder the better. This, from the Times (of London), focuses on the foibles in various courts of law around the world. It being, you know, lawyers & all—it’s almost too easy a target. But, what the hell—a giggle’s a giggle.
Go to.
Go to.
Sunday, December 28, 2008
Ending the year
There’s a terrific tradition in Latin America that I like to invoke this time of year: burning El Año Viejo.
You make up an effigy with old clothes and in one form or another (some folks stuff with fireworks, others just straw or paper). Then you add symbols of all your angers, disappointments, frustrations, hurts and harmful associations of the year. You can do this by attaching objects (the handkerchief you used when you drank too much at the office picnic and puked; the ticket to the concert where you saw your ex with a blonde ten years younger and 20 pounds lighter than you; the physics test you tanked on), or you can just write the negatives on slips of paper.
The dummy represents El Año Viejo—the old year, with all its baggage you would be carrying forward into the new one.
Come midnight on 31st December, you light it up and burn that sucker to ashes, taking all the bad things out of your life, at least the ones from the old year. And so you're left with the good and the positive to take you into the New Year.
Entire families or groups collaborate on the event, and it’s quite the celebration.
Now me—people get nervous when they see me stuffing clothes with flammable substances or firecrackers, so what I do is write a list of everything bad from El Año Viejo. Some years it’s longer than others. (This year I may need to go to legal, two columns.) Then I burn it, abjuring all the bad stuff to stay in the past.
I’m a big believer in the power of symbol and ritual. Reducing El Año Viejo to ashes always makes me feel better—lighter, ready to face the New Year.
I share this tradition with you. Try it; you might find it one you want to keep.
You make up an effigy with old clothes and in one form or another (some folks stuff with fireworks, others just straw or paper). Then you add symbols of all your angers, disappointments, frustrations, hurts and harmful associations of the year. You can do this by attaching objects (the handkerchief you used when you drank too much at the office picnic and puked; the ticket to the concert where you saw your ex with a blonde ten years younger and 20 pounds lighter than you; the physics test you tanked on), or you can just write the negatives on slips of paper.
The dummy represents El Año Viejo—the old year, with all its baggage you would be carrying forward into the new one.
Come midnight on 31st December, you light it up and burn that sucker to ashes, taking all the bad things out of your life, at least the ones from the old year. And so you're left with the good and the positive to take you into the New Year.
Entire families or groups collaborate on the event, and it’s quite the celebration.
Now me—people get nervous when they see me stuffing clothes with flammable substances or firecrackers, so what I do is write a list of everything bad from El Año Viejo. Some years it’s longer than others. (This year I may need to go to legal, two columns.) Then I burn it, abjuring all the bad stuff to stay in the past.
I’m a big believer in the power of symbol and ritual. Reducing El Año Viejo to ashes always makes me feel better—lighter, ready to face the New Year.
I share this tradition with you. Try it; you might find it one you want to keep.
Saturday, December 27, 2008
Spirits on the shelf
My post of yesterday on the necessity that you should toss old, opened bottles of liquor away because they go “bad” elicited a comment from a friend:
“I never heard of this, and I don't think it's true. Brandy from colonial times, not all that well-sealed, has been resurrected in Williamsburg and pronounced excellent, for example. I sample our cognacs and scotches and liqueurs about once a year and have never noticed any deterioration. Some go back to my late father-in-law's lifetime, which is about 20 years.
“I think that guy must be a flack for the drinks industry.”
This friend knows way more about bibulous beverages than I’m ever going to, so I thought I should poke around the electrons a bit.
Apparently this is a topic of some discussion. Glenn Jeffers of the Chicago (possibly soon to be late-lamented) Trib gathered examples from his colleagues’ stashes & submitted them to a rep of the Beverage-Testing Institute for assaying. (I’m not making that organization up; here’s their web site.)
Now, having worked in print journalism, I am of the opinion that no one drinks like journalists, at least newspapermen—except possibly cops. So Jeffers had quite a range to test, with results reported here.
The ex sum is that distilled spirits don’t go bad, they fade. Cream, fruit & herb liqueurs will spoil. (I don’t do those nasty cream things, but I have to say that the B&B & Triple Sec bottles seem okay to me.) The less air in the bottle, the better the flavor will hold.
Amazon’s Askville concurs. The purer the spirit (whisky, vodka, rum, etc.) the less likely it is to fade. Once you start blending other additives (flavors, fruits, herbs), you give the air something to interact with. Sugary liqueurs will oxidize; exposure to light intensifies the reaction.
Finally, the Stealth Survival blogger has recommendations on how to maximize shelf life.
In short, no one came up with the somewhat arbitrary "three to four months" cited in the LA Times for keeping open bottles of spirits.
I offer this to you as a public service, & to confirm The Pundit’s Apprentice’s objection.
“I never heard of this, and I don't think it's true. Brandy from colonial times, not all that well-sealed, has been resurrected in Williamsburg and pronounced excellent, for example. I sample our cognacs and scotches and liqueurs about once a year and have never noticed any deterioration. Some go back to my late father-in-law's lifetime, which is about 20 years.
“I think that guy must be a flack for the drinks industry.”
This friend knows way more about bibulous beverages than I’m ever going to, so I thought I should poke around the electrons a bit.
Apparently this is a topic of some discussion. Glenn Jeffers of the Chicago (possibly soon to be late-lamented) Trib gathered examples from his colleagues’ stashes & submitted them to a rep of the Beverage-Testing Institute for assaying. (I’m not making that organization up; here’s their web site.)
Now, having worked in print journalism, I am of the opinion that no one drinks like journalists, at least newspapermen—except possibly cops. So Jeffers had quite a range to test, with results reported here.
The ex sum is that distilled spirits don’t go bad, they fade. Cream, fruit & herb liqueurs will spoil. (I don’t do those nasty cream things, but I have to say that the B&B & Triple Sec bottles seem okay to me.) The less air in the bottle, the better the flavor will hold.
Amazon’s Askville concurs. The purer the spirit (whisky, vodka, rum, etc.) the less likely it is to fade. Once you start blending other additives (flavors, fruits, herbs), you give the air something to interact with. Sugary liqueurs will oxidize; exposure to light intensifies the reaction.
Finally, the Stealth Survival blogger has recommendations on how to maximize shelf life.
In short, no one came up with the somewhat arbitrary "three to four months" cited in the LA Times for keeping open bottles of spirits.
I offer this to you as a public service, & to confirm The Pundit’s Apprentice’s objection.
Friday, December 26, 2008
Liquor news
Jean T. Barrett, the LA Times’s answer to Eric Felten, recently wrote about artisanal gins, vodkas & whiskeys. Aside from the fact that I know I won’t be able to find anything she mentions in the liquor-restricted state of Washington, she makes a recommendation about one’s bar stocks that just stops me in my tracks.
Get rid of anything you haven’t used in a year.
Jeez—I’d have to empty out my stash except for the liqueurs I use in baking, the tequila & the single malt.
Apparently, booze can go bad. Barrett states,“Leading liquor writer F. Paul Pacult, author of ‘Kindred Spirits 2,’ a collection of spirits reviews and tasting notes, estimates the shelf life of opened bottles of spirits at just three to four months. I'm more liberal (or less discerning) and think up to a year is fine.”
Well, who knew?
Dunno what to tell you on this, folks. This is the first I’ve ever heard of this. I do know I’m not tossing out bottles of rum, vodka, cognac, Cointreau, bourbon, Calvados, etc. Not even the gin. Perhaps a huge cocktail party is in order.
You should exercise your own good judgment.
Get rid of anything you haven’t used in a year.
Jeez—I’d have to empty out my stash except for the liqueurs I use in baking, the tequila & the single malt.
Apparently, booze can go bad. Barrett states,“Leading liquor writer F. Paul Pacult, author of ‘Kindred Spirits 2,’ a collection of spirits reviews and tasting notes, estimates the shelf life of opened bottles of spirits at just three to four months. I'm more liberal (or less discerning) and think up to a year is fine.”
Well, who knew?
Dunno what to tell you on this, folks. This is the first I’ve ever heard of this. I do know I’m not tossing out bottles of rum, vodka, cognac, Cointreau, bourbon, Calvados, etc. Not even the gin. Perhaps a huge cocktail party is in order.
You should exercise your own good judgment.
Thursday, December 25, 2008
Last-minute Christmas tips
So, for the day, a bit of this and that for your amusement.
An unknown reindeer. God bless dogs. Really.
If you’ve not yet had too much seasonal music, you can visit here, or here. There’s even this specialty station for those feeling the blues.
If you’re looking for something quieter, you can always reread A Christmas Carol. However, I really love the “Dulce Domum” chapter of The Wind in the Willows. Rat and Mole are hurrying home—to Rat’s home—on a freezing December night when Mole catches the scent of his own burrow. And it completely shatters him with longing and despair.
It takes Ratty a while to notice Mole’s anguish, but when he does, his response is all you could want from a friend.
“The Rat, astonished and dismayed at the violence of Mole's paroxysm of grief, did not dare to speak for a while. At last he said, very quietly and sympathetically, ‘What is it, old fellow? Whatever can be the matter? Tell us your trouble, and let me see what I can do.’”
Mole’s disjointed response is enough to give his pal the rough picture, and Rat leaps into action. They hunt down the old home, “Mole End”, & Ratty’s delight and energy propel Mole out of his depression and into joy.
“Encouraged by his inspiriting companion, the Mole roused himself and dusted and polished with energy and heartiness, while the Rat, running to and fro with armfuls of fuel, soon had a cheerful blaze roaring up the chimney. He hailed the Mole to come and warm himself; but Mole promptly had another fit of the blues, dropping down on a couch in dark despair and burying his face in his duster. ‘Rat,’ he moaned, ‘how about your supper, you poor, cold, hungry, weary animal? I've nothing to give you—nothing—not a crumb!’
“What a fellow you are for giving in!' said the Rat reproachfully. ‘Why, only just now I saw a sardine-opener on the kitchen dresser, quite distinctly; and everybody knows that means there are sardines about somewhere in the neighbourhood. Rouse yourself! pull yourself together, and come with me and forage.’
“They went and foraged accordingly, hunting through every cupboard and turning out every drawer. The result was not so very depressing after all, though of course it might have been better; a tin of sardines—a box of captain's biscuits, nearly full—and a German sausage encased in silver paper.
“‘There's a banquet for you!’ observed the Rat, as he arranged the table. ‘I know some animals who would give their ears to be sitting down to supper with us to-night!’
“‘No bread!’ groaned the Mole dolorously; ‘no butter, no----’
“‘No pate de foie gras, no champagne!’ continued the Rat, grinning. ‘And that reminds me—what’s that little door at the end of the passage? Your cellar, of course! Every luxury in this house! Just you wait a minute.’
“He made for the cellar-door, and presently reappeared, somewhat dusty, with a bottle of beer in each paw and another under each arm, ‘Self-indulgent beggar you seem to be, Mole,’ he observed. ‘Deny yourself nothing. This is really the jolliest little place I ever was in. Now, wherever did you pick up those prints? Make the place look so home-like, they do. No wonder you're so fond of it, Mole. Tell us all about it, and how you came to make it what it is.’”
The friends are just sitting down to dinner when they are serenaded by the caroling field mice, who are invited in for a feast and a bit of ad lib playacting. It’s warm and jolly & one of the best Christmas scenes in all of literature.
I’ll confess to feeling a bit like Mole lately. I’ll be rereading the chapter myself (online, because my very well-worn copy of Wind is still packed up in the Scarlet O’Hara room), a glass of champagne to hand and a fire warming my toes.
I wish you a holiday as full of happiness and friendship as the one at Mole End.
An unknown reindeer. God bless dogs. Really.
If you’ve not yet had too much seasonal music, you can visit here, or here. There’s even this specialty station for those feeling the blues.
If you’re looking for something quieter, you can always reread A Christmas Carol. However, I really love the “Dulce Domum” chapter of The Wind in the Willows. Rat and Mole are hurrying home—to Rat’s home—on a freezing December night when Mole catches the scent of his own burrow. And it completely shatters him with longing and despair.
It takes Ratty a while to notice Mole’s anguish, but when he does, his response is all you could want from a friend.
“The Rat, astonished and dismayed at the violence of Mole's paroxysm of grief, did not dare to speak for a while. At last he said, very quietly and sympathetically, ‘What is it, old fellow? Whatever can be the matter? Tell us your trouble, and let me see what I can do.’”
Mole’s disjointed response is enough to give his pal the rough picture, and Rat leaps into action. They hunt down the old home, “Mole End”, & Ratty’s delight and energy propel Mole out of his depression and into joy.
“Encouraged by his inspiriting companion, the Mole roused himself and dusted and polished with energy and heartiness, while the Rat, running to and fro with armfuls of fuel, soon had a cheerful blaze roaring up the chimney. He hailed the Mole to come and warm himself; but Mole promptly had another fit of the blues, dropping down on a couch in dark despair and burying his face in his duster. ‘Rat,’ he moaned, ‘how about your supper, you poor, cold, hungry, weary animal? I've nothing to give you—nothing—not a crumb!’
“What a fellow you are for giving in!' said the Rat reproachfully. ‘Why, only just now I saw a sardine-opener on the kitchen dresser, quite distinctly; and everybody knows that means there are sardines about somewhere in the neighbourhood. Rouse yourself! pull yourself together, and come with me and forage.’
“They went and foraged accordingly, hunting through every cupboard and turning out every drawer. The result was not so very depressing after all, though of course it might have been better; a tin of sardines—a box of captain's biscuits, nearly full—and a German sausage encased in silver paper.
“‘There's a banquet for you!’ observed the Rat, as he arranged the table. ‘I know some animals who would give their ears to be sitting down to supper with us to-night!’
“‘No bread!’ groaned the Mole dolorously; ‘no butter, no----’
“‘No pate de foie gras, no champagne!’ continued the Rat, grinning. ‘And that reminds me—what’s that little door at the end of the passage? Your cellar, of course! Every luxury in this house! Just you wait a minute.’
“He made for the cellar-door, and presently reappeared, somewhat dusty, with a bottle of beer in each paw and another under each arm, ‘Self-indulgent beggar you seem to be, Mole,’ he observed. ‘Deny yourself nothing. This is really the jolliest little place I ever was in. Now, wherever did you pick up those prints? Make the place look so home-like, they do. No wonder you're so fond of it, Mole. Tell us all about it, and how you came to make it what it is.’”
The friends are just sitting down to dinner when they are serenaded by the caroling field mice, who are invited in for a feast and a bit of ad lib playacting. It’s warm and jolly & one of the best Christmas scenes in all of literature.
I’ll confess to feeling a bit like Mole lately. I’ll be rereading the chapter myself (online, because my very well-worn copy of Wind is still packed up in the Scarlet O’Hara room), a glass of champagne to hand and a fire warming my toes.
I wish you a holiday as full of happiness and friendship as the one at Mole End.
Wednesday, December 24, 2008
Seasonal news update
So, as we make the run up to Christmas, the retail news seems pretty dreary. Here in the PNW the spiraling economy has been compounded by snowstorms that have kept even the would-be spenders at home (because they can’t get out on unplowed streets or park in unplowed lots). Even if you’ve shopped online, when you track your packages you see a steady stream of nothing happening.
Nationwide, stores were offering huge price cuts in hopes this past weekend—usually a solid one even in bad times. Macy’s tried to entice shoppers with 24-hour openings at 13 stores (on the east coast)
Naturally, as you might expect, there are pathologies associated with hard times compounding the holidays. We can expect shoplifting to rise as those who financed their beyond-their-means lifestyles on the hope of next month’s paycheck are reduced to reality. Since they deserve stuff…
It’s not all doom-laden; apparently aesthetic procedures & treatments are on the “necessity” side of some women’s lists; not the “extras”. Of course, the manufacturers & providers are offering price-slashing discounts to keep the flow of patients coming.
Nationwide, stores were offering huge price cuts in hopes this past weekend—usually a solid one even in bad times. Macy’s tried to entice shoppers with 24-hour openings at 13 stores (on the east coast)
Naturally, as you might expect, there are pathologies associated with hard times compounding the holidays. We can expect shoplifting to rise as those who financed their beyond-their-means lifestyles on the hope of next month’s paycheck are reduced to reality. Since they deserve stuff…
It’s not all doom-laden; apparently aesthetic procedures & treatments are on the “necessity” side of some women’s lists; not the “extras”. Of course, the manufacturers & providers are offering price-slashing discounts to keep the flow of patients coming.
Tuesday, December 23, 2008
Musings on the holiday
My neighbors had me over to dinner Friday night—a lovely evening with a good meal & excellent conversation with them & another couple, just as it should be.
Barbara & Jerry have lived in their own Rambler for 54 years, since it was built. They’re retired now, but still very active. Among other things, Barbara belongs to a poetry group. Friday she shared a couple she had brought to their December meeting—two poems on Christmas. The first was a child’s letter to Santa; she read it with great verve.
For the second—which had left her poetry group in utter silence—she prefaced it by reading this story (full story at http://www.stop-stoning.org/):
“4/11/2008: 13-year-old Aisha Ibrahim Duhulow was killed on Monday, 27 October 2008, by a group of 50 men who stoned her to death in a stadium in the southern port of Kismayu, Somalia in front of around 1,000 spectators. She was accused of adultery in breach of Islamic law but, her father and other sources told Amnesty International that she had in fact been raped by three men, and had attempted to report this rape to the al-Shabab militia who control Kismayo, and it was this act that resulted in her being accused of adultery and detained. None of men she accused of rape were arrested.
“Some of the Somali journalists who had reported she was 23 have told Amnesty International that this age was based upon a judgement of her age from her physical appearance.
“She was accused of adultery in breach of Islamic law but, her father and other sources told Amnesty International that she had in fact been raped by three men, and had attempted to report this rape to the al-Shabab militia who control Kismayo, and it was this act that resulted in her being accused of adultery and detained. None of men she accused of rape were arrested.
“‘This was not justice, nor was it an execution. This child suffered a horrendous death at the behest of the armed opposition groups who currently control Kismayo,’ said David Copeman, Amnesty’s International Somalia Campaigner.
“‘This killing is yet another human rights abuse committed by the combatants to the conflict in Somalia, and again demonstrates the importance of international action to investigate and document such abuses, through an International Commission of Inquiry.’”
& here’s the poem Barbara read:
“A Good Husband” by Mike Bartholomew-Biggs
I knew the Law of course –
and there seemed to be no doubt
that she’d done wrong.
Yet God knows we’re all human
and I’d no wish to break her.
I knew the Prophets too –
but you don’t expect their words
so close to home
to mix you up in matters
beyond your understanding.
So what’s the greater sin –
to dare to believe her story
or deny my dream?
Some questions will not let you
put them quietly aside.
I shall let you think about this the way Barbara did her poetry group & the dinner party. Consider it…a Christmas gift.
Barbara & Jerry have lived in their own Rambler for 54 years, since it was built. They’re retired now, but still very active. Among other things, Barbara belongs to a poetry group. Friday she shared a couple she had brought to their December meeting—two poems on Christmas. The first was a child’s letter to Santa; she read it with great verve.
For the second—which had left her poetry group in utter silence—she prefaced it by reading this story (full story at http://www.stop-stoning.org/):
“4/11/2008: 13-year-old Aisha Ibrahim Duhulow was killed on Monday, 27 October 2008, by a group of 50 men who stoned her to death in a stadium in the southern port of Kismayu, Somalia in front of around 1,000 spectators. She was accused of adultery in breach of Islamic law but, her father and other sources told Amnesty International that she had in fact been raped by three men, and had attempted to report this rape to the al-Shabab militia who control Kismayo, and it was this act that resulted in her being accused of adultery and detained. None of men she accused of rape were arrested.
“Some of the Somali journalists who had reported she was 23 have told Amnesty International that this age was based upon a judgement of her age from her physical appearance.
“She was accused of adultery in breach of Islamic law but, her father and other sources told Amnesty International that she had in fact been raped by three men, and had attempted to report this rape to the al-Shabab militia who control Kismayo, and it was this act that resulted in her being accused of adultery and detained. None of men she accused of rape were arrested.
“‘This was not justice, nor was it an execution. This child suffered a horrendous death at the behest of the armed opposition groups who currently control Kismayo,’ said David Copeman, Amnesty’s International Somalia Campaigner.
“‘This killing is yet another human rights abuse committed by the combatants to the conflict in Somalia, and again demonstrates the importance of international action to investigate and document such abuses, through an International Commission of Inquiry.’”
& here’s the poem Barbara read:
“A Good Husband” by Mike Bartholomew-Biggs
I knew the Law of course –
and there seemed to be no doubt
that she’d done wrong.
Yet God knows we’re all human
and I’d no wish to break her.
I knew the Prophets too –
but you don’t expect their words
so close to home
to mix you up in matters
beyond your understanding.
So what’s the greater sin –
to dare to believe her story
or deny my dream?
Some questions will not let you
put them quietly aside.
I shall let you think about this the way Barbara did her poetry group & the dinner party. Consider it…a Christmas gift.
Monday, December 22, 2008
Weathering Seattle
Just as “oh, it never gets really hot here in Seattle” was a lie, it turns out that “but we have such mild winters” is also wishful thinking. Since Saturday the 13th, we’ve had three sizeable dumps of snow
& just as this area doesn’t have any mechanism for handling heat—the PNW apparently has not heard about air conditioning for residential purposes—government & business alike are pretty much useless when it comes to dealing with snow.
The drop overnight on the 13th wasn’t really unmanageable, which was good because the city of Bellevue didn’t get around to plowing residential streets until late Sunday. & they don’t seem to understand the concept of sanding the plowed roads. Thank God for TCS.
(What was interesting was that the storm had been predicted for Friday evening: highways from the Eastside into Seattle were clogged starting at 1400, presumably with people trying to get home before the onslaught. Only I was returning from Seattle at 1930, & the incoming traffic was still blocked—presumably with people who thought they’d miss the early panickers. There had been no accidents; it was just traffic.)
Well, fine—we make it through the weekend & onward into the work week. Then comes the storm of Wednesday/Thursday, which really counts as a storm. At least six inches.
When I left for work Thursday morning, I saw only two pick-up trucks with front-end plows attached; they were on a main street in Bellevue. When I turned onto the ramp to I-405N, I was momentarily discombobulated to see no traffic. There were cars on the southbound side, but I was the only one going north.
Good thing, as it hadn’t been plowed & you couldn’t tell where the lanes were. Same for highway 520, although there were cars on that.
I made it into work, but most people “worked from home” (even though the VPN seems to be very problematic). When I got here I understood why many of the long-timers would have stayed away: an email from Facilities announcing that the company was open for business, but that employees who made it in were on their own. Cafeterias operating only in about four buildings, no transportation, walkways not cleared, limited (= no) mail services, etc.
What it didn’t mention was that no one would be replenishing the coffee or beverage cases, restocking cups & eating utensils, or performing any cleaning services. Trash hasn’t been emptied nor washrooms cleaned since Wednesday.
Think about it.
Out in the wide world, traffic was a mess. On Thursday there were multiple closures of interstates & major highways due to accidents; & on Friday you might have seen news footage of two charter buses that broke a guardrail & hung over I-5 for much of the day.
Well, we were sorting things out (barely) when Nature dumped another two to four inches on us late Saturday night. Evidently this was just more than the infrastructure could handle. When I left for work this morning, my street still hadn’t been plowed.
However I struggled in to find the office even emptier than Thursday & Friday & another in the series of emails from Facilities announcing what not to expect. But I had to come in. My neighborhood lost power at 2000 last night, & it’s still out. The temperature in The Rambler this morning was 48°F. Temperature outside was 30°F. It’s going to get colder inside.
A call to Puget Sound Energy customer “service” revealed that they have no earthly notion when it will be restored. A visit to their website indicates that 1096 customers are powerless. & they don’t seem to be all that fussed about getting us back online.
The roads aren’t much better. They’ve been plowed, more or less; grit to come, I suppose. Or maybe they'll just wait for it all to melt. King County's transportation department's efforts seem to be limited to advising citizens not to drive if they can avoid it.
Well, I wouldn’t have, except that I can’t live in 40-degree conditions. Plus, no working from home when you don’t have power.
More snow predicted for tomorrow night, deep joy. Turning to rain on Wednesday, which will muck it up even further.
Metro Seattle has once again done what I hadn’t thought possible: it makes Metro DC look like a paragon of preparedness when it comes to weather management.
& just as this area doesn’t have any mechanism for handling heat—the PNW apparently has not heard about air conditioning for residential purposes—government & business alike are pretty much useless when it comes to dealing with snow.
The drop overnight on the 13th wasn’t really unmanageable, which was good because the city of Bellevue didn’t get around to plowing residential streets until late Sunday. & they don’t seem to understand the concept of sanding the plowed roads. Thank God for TCS.
(What was interesting was that the storm had been predicted for Friday evening: highways from the Eastside into Seattle were clogged starting at 1400, presumably with people trying to get home before the onslaught. Only I was returning from Seattle at 1930, & the incoming traffic was still blocked—presumably with people who thought they’d miss the early panickers. There had been no accidents; it was just traffic.)
Well, fine—we make it through the weekend & onward into the work week. Then comes the storm of Wednesday/Thursday, which really counts as a storm. At least six inches.
When I left for work Thursday morning, I saw only two pick-up trucks with front-end plows attached; they were on a main street in Bellevue. When I turned onto the ramp to I-405N, I was momentarily discombobulated to see no traffic. There were cars on the southbound side, but I was the only one going north.
Good thing, as it hadn’t been plowed & you couldn’t tell where the lanes were. Same for highway 520, although there were cars on that.
I made it into work, but most people “worked from home” (even though the VPN seems to be very problematic). When I got here I understood why many of the long-timers would have stayed away: an email from Facilities announcing that the company was open for business, but that employees who made it in were on their own. Cafeterias operating only in about four buildings, no transportation, walkways not cleared, limited (= no) mail services, etc.
What it didn’t mention was that no one would be replenishing the coffee or beverage cases, restocking cups & eating utensils, or performing any cleaning services. Trash hasn’t been emptied nor washrooms cleaned since Wednesday.
Think about it.
Out in the wide world, traffic was a mess. On Thursday there were multiple closures of interstates & major highways due to accidents; & on Friday you might have seen news footage of two charter buses that broke a guardrail & hung over I-5 for much of the day.
Well, we were sorting things out (barely) when Nature dumped another two to four inches on us late Saturday night. Evidently this was just more than the infrastructure could handle. When I left for work this morning, my street still hadn’t been plowed.
However I struggled in to find the office even emptier than Thursday & Friday & another in the series of emails from Facilities announcing what not to expect. But I had to come in. My neighborhood lost power at 2000 last night, & it’s still out. The temperature in The Rambler this morning was 48°F. Temperature outside was 30°F. It’s going to get colder inside.
A call to Puget Sound Energy customer “service” revealed that they have no earthly notion when it will be restored. A visit to their website indicates that 1096 customers are powerless. & they don’t seem to be all that fussed about getting us back online.
The roads aren’t much better. They’ve been plowed, more or less; grit to come, I suppose. Or maybe they'll just wait for it all to melt. King County's transportation department's efforts seem to be limited to advising citizens not to drive if they can avoid it.
Well, I wouldn’t have, except that I can’t live in 40-degree conditions. Plus, no working from home when you don’t have power.
More snow predicted for tomorrow night, deep joy. Turning to rain on Wednesday, which will muck it up even further.
Metro Seattle has once again done what I hadn’t thought possible: it makes Metro DC look like a paragon of preparedness when it comes to weather management.
Blagging for booze
Chicagoans being Chicagoans, it didn’t take long for local bartenders to come up with cocktails saluting the latest Illinois governor to be headed to the slammer. The WSJ’s Eric Felten reports on a few efforts. Their common ingredient is peach flavor—as in “im-peach”.
O, those clever Chicagolanders!
Felten goes on to discuss a “classic” Chicago cocktail, the Cohasset punch (read the story to make the connection between the hog butcher to the world & a Massachusetts town).
I have to say that, the idea of finding half a canned peach in a glass of booze is somewhat off-putting. It’s awkward enough eating the spear of pineapple in a mai tai or the orange slice in an old fashioned. Half a canned peach? Get outta here!
But still—in the interest of keeping you au courant, I offer it up for your drinking rota.
O, those clever Chicagolanders!
Felten goes on to discuss a “classic” Chicago cocktail, the Cohasset punch (read the story to make the connection between the hog butcher to the world & a Massachusetts town).
I have to say that, the idea of finding half a canned peach in a glass of booze is somewhat off-putting. It’s awkward enough eating the spear of pineapple in a mai tai or the orange slice in an old fashioned. Half a canned peach? Get outta here!
But still—in the interest of keeping you au courant, I offer it up for your drinking rota.
Sunday, December 21, 2008
Music for the season
If you’ve been anywhere but an unwired cave for the past month, you’ve been listening to holiday music. Whether you wanted to or not.
This appears to be a subject of much interest to journalists, even when it’s not a slow news year. Earlier this week the WSJ gave a forum for a former exec of 415/CBS Records to explain to us why retail establishments play holiday songs & also why the same songs start to make us puke after a short while.
Well, whatever.
The NY Times went into greater depth a couple of years ago, analyzing the “upbeat and inviting shopping atmosphere” that shops aspire to. It shouldn’t be surprising to know that the marketers have squeezed every conceivable drop of blood from that turnip, but it is a bit depressing to note the extent to which they have us in their manipulative little clutches.
But the mix cited by Spencer’s, that schlock-o-rama staple of every mall in America, brings me to other musings on seasonal music: worst-ever holiday songs.
Ah, the field is so wide here, but hardly un-trodden. Everyone, it seems, has a die-die-die list of holiday songs—mostly Christmas.
Spinner totes up twelve of them, including Springsteen’s cover of “Santa Claus Is Comin’ to Town”. (He made other lists, too.) Thankfully, I don’t believe I’ve heard any of them. I have a hard enough time getting through December as it is.
A syndicated column available on many sites also takes a stab at a list. It starts out with “Grandma Got Run over by a Reindeer” and moves on. This one includes two that would be in my inventory—dogs barking “Jingle Bells” and “Little Drummer Boy”. The columnist specifies Jessica and Ashlee Simpson on the latter, but I hate it no matter who’s singing it.
But apparently NPR had a program called the “Annoying Music Show”, and a few years ago the hosts provided another top-ten, which included “Material Girl” by Petty Booka (embodying “the true meaning of Christmas—a Japanese bluegrass tribute to Madonna”), a medley of “Jingle Bells” (performed by The Klezmonauts, a Klezmer band that plays Christmas carols; performed on rubber bands; and performed on power tools), and “O Holy Night” by the Brady Bunch.
I’m sure you can come up with lists of your own. See if there’s not something that just makes your teeth hurt when it comes on in the elevator.
Happy Holidays, all!
This appears to be a subject of much interest to journalists, even when it’s not a slow news year. Earlier this week the WSJ gave a forum for a former exec of 415/CBS Records to explain to us why retail establishments play holiday songs & also why the same songs start to make us puke after a short while.
Well, whatever.
The NY Times went into greater depth a couple of years ago, analyzing the “upbeat and inviting shopping atmosphere” that shops aspire to. It shouldn’t be surprising to know that the marketers have squeezed every conceivable drop of blood from that turnip, but it is a bit depressing to note the extent to which they have us in their manipulative little clutches.
But the mix cited by Spencer’s, that schlock-o-rama staple of every mall in America, brings me to other musings on seasonal music: worst-ever holiday songs.
Ah, the field is so wide here, but hardly un-trodden. Everyone, it seems, has a die-die-die list of holiday songs—mostly Christmas.
Spinner totes up twelve of them, including Springsteen’s cover of “Santa Claus Is Comin’ to Town”. (He made other lists, too.) Thankfully, I don’t believe I’ve heard any of them. I have a hard enough time getting through December as it is.
A syndicated column available on many sites also takes a stab at a list. It starts out with “Grandma Got Run over by a Reindeer” and moves on. This one includes two that would be in my inventory—dogs barking “Jingle Bells” and “Little Drummer Boy”. The columnist specifies Jessica and Ashlee Simpson on the latter, but I hate it no matter who’s singing it.
But apparently NPR had a program called the “Annoying Music Show”, and a few years ago the hosts provided another top-ten, which included “Material Girl” by Petty Booka (embodying “the true meaning of Christmas—a Japanese bluegrass tribute to Madonna”), a medley of “Jingle Bells” (performed by The Klezmonauts, a Klezmer band that plays Christmas carols; performed on rubber bands; and performed on power tools), and “O Holy Night” by the Brady Bunch.
I’m sure you can come up with lists of your own. See if there’s not something that just makes your teeth hurt when it comes on in the elevator.
Happy Holidays, all!
Saturday, December 20, 2008
Interred with their bones
Well, Bush has taken advantage of his last month in office to bail out the Gang of Three, despite the obvious mood of we-the-people, tired of having our collective pockets picked to fund the lifestyles of the grotesquely rich and feckless. Chrysler—which probably won’t survive even with its share—and GM are getting $13.4B right away, with another $4B in the next two months.
This “low-interest loan” comes with strings attached, dictating sacrifices—mostly by workers, who are mandated to take wage cuts, lose their jobs-bank funding and have the UAW take responsibility for the healthcare of retirees.
Yeah, GM’s 25 top execs won’t get bonuses for a few months; boo-hoo.
It’s not enough. The top 25 execs should get the sack and new management brought in to replace them. And anyone with a V anywhere in his title should take a salary cut and get no bonus until the company is in the black.
But beyond that, Bush has created a “plan” that’s vague in terms of requirements and metrics. Not surprising, given that this is yet another un-thought-out scheme of this administration with no idea beyond the immediate crisis. (“Long-term” for this crowd is Thursday. Thursday morning.) This means that all the lobbying and jockeying that will inevitably occur as each constituent tries to convince Congress, the Executive and the people that sacrifices should be made by someone else—this will all be on Obama’s watch.
So, no surprise there, then.
Shakespeare was right: the evil that men do does indeed live after them. And this evil is going to be swirling long after Bush has donated all his coloring books to his presidential library and after the Gang of Three's executives have driven in their SUVs to ruin other industries, with severance packages that would fund the retirements of thousands of line workers.
As for the good allegedly interred with their bones? Not seeing any. The auto industry is saved from bankruptcy? Who says? It's not at all clear to me that $17.4B is anything except money tossed down a particularly foul sewer. Thousands of jobs saved? For a while. But way too many of them are useless or incompetent layers of management; and you know they'll be the last to go under this restructuring.
Not to state the blindingly obvious, but this world is just whacked.
This “low-interest loan” comes with strings attached, dictating sacrifices—mostly by workers, who are mandated to take wage cuts, lose their jobs-bank funding and have the UAW take responsibility for the healthcare of retirees.
Yeah, GM’s 25 top execs won’t get bonuses for a few months; boo-hoo.
It’s not enough. The top 25 execs should get the sack and new management brought in to replace them. And anyone with a V anywhere in his title should take a salary cut and get no bonus until the company is in the black.
But beyond that, Bush has created a “plan” that’s vague in terms of requirements and metrics. Not surprising, given that this is yet another un-thought-out scheme of this administration with no idea beyond the immediate crisis. (“Long-term” for this crowd is Thursday. Thursday morning.) This means that all the lobbying and jockeying that will inevitably occur as each constituent tries to convince Congress, the Executive and the people that sacrifices should be made by someone else—this will all be on Obama’s watch.
So, no surprise there, then.
Shakespeare was right: the evil that men do does indeed live after them. And this evil is going to be swirling long after Bush has donated all his coloring books to his presidential library and after the Gang of Three's executives have driven in their SUVs to ruin other industries, with severance packages that would fund the retirements of thousands of line workers.
As for the good allegedly interred with their bones? Not seeing any. The auto industry is saved from bankruptcy? Who says? It's not at all clear to me that $17.4B is anything except money tossed down a particularly foul sewer. Thousands of jobs saved? For a while. But way too many of them are useless or incompetent layers of management; and you know they'll be the last to go under this restructuring.
Not to state the blindingly obvious, but this world is just whacked.
Friday, December 19, 2008
Desperate times call for...bears & bagpipes
¡Ay, Dios mio! The WSJ reports on a thriving part of the Spanish economy: debt collection.
This is an example of getting customer insights through empathy: these companies know precisely what’s going to get the attention of the deadbeats. No need to haul away the Benz in the night or go after someone with semi-automatics. Just threaten them with a bagpiper in a kilt.
I particularly liked the gambit for collecting from bridezilla & her spouse—call up the wedding guests & demand payment from them.
Of course that wouldn’t work in the US—it would just give the bridezillas ideas of out-&-out charging guests for the chicken & cake. Plus extra for the bridesmaids’ dresses & the honeymoon in the Maldives.
As for the Russian tactic—that’s just bear abuse.
This is an example of getting customer insights through empathy: these companies know precisely what’s going to get the attention of the deadbeats. No need to haul away the Benz in the night or go after someone with semi-automatics. Just threaten them with a bagpiper in a kilt.
I particularly liked the gambit for collecting from bridezilla & her spouse—call up the wedding guests & demand payment from them.
Of course that wouldn’t work in the US—it would just give the bridezillas ideas of out-&-out charging guests for the chicken & cake. Plus extra for the bridesmaids’ dresses & the honeymoon in the Maldives.
As for the Russian tactic—that’s just bear abuse.
Thursday, December 18, 2008
Pigs on the playground
You know, I just don’t know what to make of this WSJ story on the boars of Berlin.
Major cities in the US have a problem with feral cat colonies. Rather than wholesale slaughter of the animals many organizations run Trap-Neuter-Return programs. You can make arguments for & against returning cats to live in questionable conditions in large urban areas. However, this way the population is presumably at least controlled.
There are also increasing numbers of urban coyotes—across the US. We had them in the DC metro area.
Mixing wild predators with urban humans is just a recipe for unhappiness all around, so I find it interesting that the Germans seem to have taken a computer-language approach: either kill the pigs or invite them in to dinner.
Frankly, the idea of having your toddlers on the park swings when a sounder of boars shows up gives me a major case of the jim-jams. I don’t get the Berliners’ laissez-faire attitude when it comes to this sort of thing. Do they just not make the connection between the idea of "wild animal" & "defenseless child"? Has none of them ever seen what happened when their kid pulled a dog's or cat's tail?
On the other hand, I can see where they’d be put off by the experience of having a guy show up & blow away an entire family of mama & piglets (shoats, boarlets, whatever) in front of your cocktail party or bar mitzvah crowd.
This will be a story worth following.
Major cities in the US have a problem with feral cat colonies. Rather than wholesale slaughter of the animals many organizations run Trap-Neuter-Return programs. You can make arguments for & against returning cats to live in questionable conditions in large urban areas. However, this way the population is presumably at least controlled.
There are also increasing numbers of urban coyotes—across the US. We had them in the DC metro area.
Mixing wild predators with urban humans is just a recipe for unhappiness all around, so I find it interesting that the Germans seem to have taken a computer-language approach: either kill the pigs or invite them in to dinner.
Frankly, the idea of having your toddlers on the park swings when a sounder of boars shows up gives me a major case of the jim-jams. I don’t get the Berliners’ laissez-faire attitude when it comes to this sort of thing. Do they just not make the connection between the idea of "wild animal" & "defenseless child"? Has none of them ever seen what happened when their kid pulled a dog's or cat's tail?
On the other hand, I can see where they’d be put off by the experience of having a guy show up & blow away an entire family of mama & piglets (shoats, boarlets, whatever) in front of your cocktail party or bar mitzvah crowd.
This will be a story worth following.
Stirred, not shaken
Eric Felten delves into the precursor of the ubiquitous martini, the Martinez. Apparently it required something called Old Tom gin, a sweetened variety of the distillation of the Juniper berry.
It’s interesting that one of the sources Felten cites on the Martinez dismisses it as “little more than a molten gumdrop”, inasmuch as most of the overpriced drinks passing themselves off as martinis these days are gag-inducingly sweet.
Evidently Old Tom disappeared from the market but Hayman Distillers has resumed making it & it’s now available in the US. Felten has found a Martinez mecca in a new bar in DC, the Gibson, where bartender-in-chief Derek Brown stirs the concoction 50 times before pouring.
If you can’t make it to DC, you may be able to find the ingredients if you persevere. Alcolog did a taste comparison last month of a variety of gins & rated the Old Tom high. I know I’m not going to find it in the paltry inventory of the Washington state liquor stores—but good luck.
It’s interesting that one of the sources Felten cites on the Martinez dismisses it as “little more than a molten gumdrop”, inasmuch as most of the overpriced drinks passing themselves off as martinis these days are gag-inducingly sweet.
Evidently Old Tom disappeared from the market but Hayman Distillers has resumed making it & it’s now available in the US. Felten has found a Martinez mecca in a new bar in DC, the Gibson, where bartender-in-chief Derek Brown stirs the concoction 50 times before pouring.
If you can’t make it to DC, you may be able to find the ingredients if you persevere. Alcolog did a taste comparison last month of a variety of gins & rated the Old Tom high. I know I’m not going to find it in the paltry inventory of the Washington state liquor stores—but good luck.
Wednesday, December 17, 2008
Music to my ears
A friend sent this to me. It’s certainly appropriate for the season’s message, & a nice change.
Crank up the volume & dance, children!
Crank up the volume & dance, children!
Surprising & amazing GM
Okay, you’ll recall an email GM sent to a colleague assuring him that GM’s not responsible for the mess they’re in and that they’re doing everything possible to undo the damage they didn’t do and if he (the colleague) didn’t contact his congressslime to have them bail out GM the world would end?
They’re at it again.
And you’ll be surprised and amazed to discover that they don’t mention having made any mistakes briefly admitted in the full-page ad they took out in the trades a week ago.
If you’re feeling like a giggle, read on. You just can’t make this stuff up.
----- Forwarded Message ----
Thank you for being a GM customer. There's been a lot of discussion about the auto industry over the past few weeks, and I want to make sure you know the facts about GM. This is important because with all the media coverage of late about our company and industry, it is evident that there is much misinformation and many very dated perceptions being communicated. The truth and the facts are always helpful. First, we're building our best cars and trucks ever, and we're committed to being the best car company on the planet.
[“Truth”? “Facts”? As if.]
Take a closer look at Chevrolet, Buick, Pontiac, GMC, Saturn, HUMMER, Saab and Cadillac. You'll be surprised.
Our vehicles are more fuel efficient.
19 of our 2009 models have an EPA estimated 30 MPG highway or better — more than Toyota, more than Honda
[Okay, I counted more than 90 models of their eight brands. So 19 may be a fact; but it’s not really truthful or useful information.]
For 2009, we offer more hybrid choices than any other manufacturer. We currently have six hybrids, by mid-2009 we will introduce three more, and by 2012 we will offer 15 hybrid models
11 of our last 13 new-product introductions have been fuel-efficient cars or crossovers. This trend will continue with 22 of our next 24 new-product introductions
Higher quality.
We back our quality with the Best Coverage in America:
A 100,000-Mile/5-Year Transferable Powertrain Limited Warranty.(1) Plus, Roadside Assistance(1) and Courtesy Transportation Programs.(1) This coverage is superior to Toyota, Honda, Nissan and Ford. We believe in our quality and reliability, and we back it up!
[Well, but people regularly put 200K miles on their Toyotas and Hondas, so the question arises: why does GM think they need 100K mile/5-year warranties?]
The 2008 Chevy Malibu and Chevy Silverado were the "Highest Ranked Midsize Car and Large Pickup in Initial Quality" according to J.D. Power and Associates(2)
Safe.
37 of our 2009 models have five-star frontal crash safety ratings(3)
['Kay, remember: more than 90 models. So apparently GM thinks having only 40% of their models five-star rated is noteworthy.]
We offer the safety and security of OnStar,(4) including Automatic Crash Response,(5) OnStar Vehicle Diagnostics(6) and Turn-by-Turn Navigation.(7) Not Honda. Not Toyota. Not Ford. Not Chrysler. Not Nissan. Not Dodge
[Of course, you PAY for this safety and security, an annual subscription. I hope they’ve improved since I tried it—a GPS device works much better than their humanoid location finding/routing service.]
The proof is on the road today.
All made by GM. Surprised?
Here's something else amazing: the Red Tag Sales Event,(25) which continues through January 5, 2009. The price on the tag is the price you pay. See some red, save some green.
It's a smart time to buy GM. Visit gm.com for more surprising reasons why.
Sincerely,
Mark LaNeve
This is an email advertisement. If you prefer not to receive any unsolicited marketing emails regarding GM vehicles, click here.
They’re at it again.
And you’ll be surprised and amazed to discover that they don’t mention having made any mistakes briefly admitted in the full-page ad they took out in the trades a week ago.
If you’re feeling like a giggle, read on. You just can’t make this stuff up.
----- Forwarded Message ----
From: Your GM Team Your_GM_Team@email.generalmotors.bfi0.co
To:
Sent: Monday, December 15, 2008 5:26:50 AM
Subject: Surprising today. Amazing tomorrow. It's GM
[I’m not making up that subject line; that came straight from GM.]
Dear [one-time GM Car Owner because we can’t be bothered to find out you’re no longer in the “family”],
Thank you for being a GM customer. There's been a lot of discussion about the auto industry over the past few weeks, and I want to make sure you know the facts about GM. This is important because with all the media coverage of late about our company and industry, it is evident that there is much misinformation and many very dated perceptions being communicated. The truth and the facts are always helpful. First, we're building our best cars and trucks ever, and we're committed to being the best car company on the planet.
[“Truth”? “Facts”? As if.]
Take a closer look at Chevrolet, Buick, Pontiac, GMC, Saturn, HUMMER, Saab and Cadillac. You'll be surprised.
Our vehicles are more fuel efficient.
19 of our 2009 models have an EPA estimated 30 MPG highway or better — more than Toyota, more than Honda
[Okay, I counted more than 90 models of their eight brands. So 19 may be a fact; but it’s not really truthful or useful information.]
For 2009, we offer more hybrid choices than any other manufacturer. We currently have six hybrids, by mid-2009 we will introduce three more, and by 2012 we will offer 15 hybrid models
11 of our last 13 new-product introductions have been fuel-efficient cars or crossovers. This trend will continue with 22 of our next 24 new-product introductions
Higher quality.
We back our quality with the Best Coverage in America:
A 100,000-Mile/5-Year Transferable Powertrain Limited Warranty.(1) Plus, Roadside Assistance(1) and Courtesy Transportation Programs.(1) This coverage is superior to Toyota, Honda, Nissan and Ford. We believe in our quality and reliability, and we back it up!
[Well, but people regularly put 200K miles on their Toyotas and Hondas, so the question arises: why does GM think they need 100K mile/5-year warranties?]
The 2008 Chevy Malibu and Chevy Silverado were the "Highest Ranked Midsize Car and Large Pickup in Initial Quality" according to J.D. Power and Associates(2)
Safe.
37 of our 2009 models have five-star frontal crash safety ratings(3)
['Kay, remember: more than 90 models. So apparently GM thinks having only 40% of their models five-star rated is noteworthy.]
We offer the safety and security of OnStar,(4) including Automatic Crash Response,(5) OnStar Vehicle Diagnostics(6) and Turn-by-Turn Navigation.(7) Not Honda. Not Toyota. Not Ford. Not Chrysler. Not Nissan. Not Dodge
[Of course, you PAY for this safety and security, an annual subscription. I hope they’ve improved since I tried it—a GPS device works much better than their humanoid location finding/routing service.]
The proof is on the road today.
Chevy
The Cobalt XFE offers an EPA estimated 37 MPG highway. More than Toyota Corolla or Honda Civic DX8
The Malibu offers an EPA estimated 33 MPG highway, which is better than Toyota Camry LE or Honda Accord(9)
The Traverse offers the best highway fuel economy of any eight-passenger crossover,10 an EPA estimated 24 MPG highway. It has more interior space than Honda Pilot or Toyota Highlander
The Silverado is Car and Driver's Best Pickup 2 years running.(11) The Silverado XFE offers an EPA estimated 21 MPG highway. No other large pickup beats it. Not Ford. Not Dodge. Nobody.(12)
[But, um, who exactly is buying large pickups?]
Buick • Pontiac • GMC
The eight-passenger Buick Enclave crossover is quieter than Lexus RX 350.(13) And with an EPA estimated 24 MPG highway, it gets better highway gas mileage than Lexus RX 350 and Acura MDX(14)
The Pontiac G5 XFE offers an EPA estimated 37 MPG highway. More than Toyota Corolla or Honda Civic DX(8)
[But they’re planning on tossing away most of Pontiac, so why are they pishing about it here?]
The GMC Sierra XFE offers an EPA estimated 21 MPG highway. No other large pickup offers better highway mileage. Not Toyota. Nobody.(15)
[Um, see above about nobody buying large pickups. Nobody.]
Saturn
The AURA midsize sedan offers best-in-class(16) highway fuel economy. Its EPA estimated 33 MPG highway beats Toyota Camry LE and Honda Accord17
The VUE Hybrid has the best highway fuel economy in its segment:(18) an EPA estimated 32 MPG
[Yeah—Saturn’s one of the brands they’re trying to dump altogether.]
Cadillac • Saab • HUMMER
The Cadillac CTS is a 2009 "Best Resale Value" Award winner from Kelley Blue Book's kbb.com.(19) It is one of Car and Driver's 2009 10Best. And it was also selected a top safety pick by the Insurance Institute for Highway Safety(20)
The Cadillac Escalade Hybrid eight-passenger luxury SUV offers an EPA estimated 20 MPG city. Better than a 2008 MINI Cooper S Convertible with automatic transmission(21)
[How pathetic is comparing a Cadillac SUV with a Mini Cooper?]
The Saab 9-3 Sport Sedan, SportCombi and Convertible have earned the 2009 Insurance Institute for Highway Safety's "Top Safety Pick" award in the midsize category for the third straight year(22)
[Okay, they’ve been talking about selling off Saab for at least six years.]
The HUMMER H3 has a lower annual fuel cost than Nissan Pathfinder(23)
[If you leave it in the garage.]
And our future looks even brighter.
The upcoming Chevy Volt (expected launch date late 2010) represents a fundamental reinvention of the American automobile industry. The Volt will deliver up to 40 miles(24) on a single electrical charge, well within the daily commute of nearly 80% of Americans. It represents a giant step toward energy independence
[And how many decades did GM fight the idea of building any car that didn't suck up fossil fuel like frat boys at a kegger?]
GM will also continue to invest in hydrogen fuel cell technology, which is capable of reducing automobile tailpipe emissions to non-polluting water vapor. Already, GM has deployed 90 Chevy Equinox compact SUVs to people in what constitutes the world's largest market test fleet of hydrogen fuel cell vehicles
The Cobalt XFE offers an EPA estimated 37 MPG highway. More than Toyota Corolla or Honda Civic DX8
The Malibu offers an EPA estimated 33 MPG highway, which is better than Toyota Camry LE or Honda Accord(9)
The Traverse offers the best highway fuel economy of any eight-passenger crossover,10 an EPA estimated 24 MPG highway. It has more interior space than Honda Pilot or Toyota Highlander
The Silverado is Car and Driver's Best Pickup 2 years running.(11) The Silverado XFE offers an EPA estimated 21 MPG highway. No other large pickup beats it. Not Ford. Not Dodge. Nobody.(12)
[But, um, who exactly is buying large pickups?]
Buick • Pontiac • GMC
The eight-passenger Buick Enclave crossover is quieter than Lexus RX 350.(13) And with an EPA estimated 24 MPG highway, it gets better highway gas mileage than Lexus RX 350 and Acura MDX(14)
The Pontiac G5 XFE offers an EPA estimated 37 MPG highway. More than Toyota Corolla or Honda Civic DX(8)
[But they’re planning on tossing away most of Pontiac, so why are they pishing about it here?]
The GMC Sierra XFE offers an EPA estimated 21 MPG highway. No other large pickup offers better highway mileage. Not Toyota. Nobody.(15)
[Um, see above about nobody buying large pickups. Nobody.]
Saturn
The AURA midsize sedan offers best-in-class(16) highway fuel economy. Its EPA estimated 33 MPG highway beats Toyota Camry LE and Honda Accord17
The VUE Hybrid has the best highway fuel economy in its segment:(18) an EPA estimated 32 MPG
[Yeah—Saturn’s one of the brands they’re trying to dump altogether.]
Cadillac • Saab • HUMMER
The Cadillac CTS is a 2009 "Best Resale Value" Award winner from Kelley Blue Book's kbb.com.(19) It is one of Car and Driver's 2009 10Best. And it was also selected a top safety pick by the Insurance Institute for Highway Safety(20)
The Cadillac Escalade Hybrid eight-passenger luxury SUV offers an EPA estimated 20 MPG city. Better than a 2008 MINI Cooper S Convertible with automatic transmission(21)
[How pathetic is comparing a Cadillac SUV with a Mini Cooper?]
The Saab 9-3 Sport Sedan, SportCombi and Convertible have earned the 2009 Insurance Institute for Highway Safety's "Top Safety Pick" award in the midsize category for the third straight year(22)
[Okay, they’ve been talking about selling off Saab for at least six years.]
The HUMMER H3 has a lower annual fuel cost than Nissan Pathfinder(23)
[If you leave it in the garage.]
And our future looks even brighter.
The upcoming Chevy Volt (expected launch date late 2010) represents a fundamental reinvention of the American automobile industry. The Volt will deliver up to 40 miles(24) on a single electrical charge, well within the daily commute of nearly 80% of Americans. It represents a giant step toward energy independence
[And how many decades did GM fight the idea of building any car that didn't suck up fossil fuel like frat boys at a kegger?]
GM will also continue to invest in hydrogen fuel cell technology, which is capable of reducing automobile tailpipe emissions to non-polluting water vapor. Already, GM has deployed 90 Chevy Equinox compact SUVs to people in what constitutes the world's largest market test fleet of hydrogen fuel cell vehicles
All made by GM. Surprised?
Here's something else amazing: the Red Tag Sales Event,(25) which continues through January 5, 2009. The price on the tag is the price you pay. See some red, save some green.
[Ah, right--the commercial. You knew this was coming, didn't you?]
It's a smart time to buy GM. Visit gm.com for more surprising reasons why.
Sincerely,
Mark LaNeve
This is an email advertisement. If you prefer not to receive any unsolicited marketing emails regarding GM vehicles, click here.
1) Whichever comes first. Excludes 2009 Saab vehicles. See dealer for limited warranty details.
2) Chevrolet Malibu and Chevrolet Silverado LD received the lowest number of problems per 100 vehicles among midsize cars and large pickups, respectively, in the proprietary J.D. Power and Associates 2008 Initial Quality StudySM. Study based on responses from 81,530 new-vehicle owners, measuring 344 models and measures opinions after 90 days of ownership. Proprietary study results are based on experiences and perceptions of owners surveyed in February–April 2008. Your experiences may vary. Visit jdpower.com.
3) Government star ratings are part of the National Highway Traffic Safety Administration's (NHTSA's) New Car Assessment Program (www.safercar.gov).
4) Call 1-888-4-ONSTAR (466-7827) or visit onstar.com for details and system limitations.
5) Available on select 2007 and newer GM models.
6) Capabilities vary by model. Visit onstar.com for details and system limitations.
7) Requires ABS and Directions & Connections Plan. Not available in certain areas. Visit onstar.com for coverage map. Not available on Pontiac Vibe and Saab 9-3 and 9-5.
8) Comparable Toyota Corolla with an EPA estimated MPG 35 highway and Honda Civic DX with an EPA estimated MPG 34 highway.
9) Malibu with available 4-cylinder engine and 6-speed automatic transmission. Comparable Honda Accord and Toyota Camry LE, both with an EPA estimated 31 MPG highway.
10) Based on GM Mid-Utility Crossover segment. Excludes other GM vehicles.
11) Car and Driver 2008.
12) Based on GM Large Pickup segment and Silverado XFE with 5.3L V8 engine and an EPA estimated MPG 15 city, 21 highway. Ford F-150 SFE with 4.6L V8 engine and an EPA estimated MPG 15 city, 21 highway. Dodge RAM 2WD with 5.7L V8 engine and an EPA estimated MPG 14 city, 20 highway. Excludes other GM vehicles.
13) Based on independent testing.
14) Buick Enclave FWD, Lexus RX 350 FWD and an EPA estimated 23 MPG highway, Acura MDX and an EPA estimated 20 MPG highway. 15) Based on GM Large Pickup segment. Toyota Tundra 2WD with 5.7L V8 engine and an EPA estimated MPG 14 city, 18 highway. Excludes other GM vehicles.
16) Based on GM Mid-Car Sedan segment and an EPA estimated MPG 33 highway (gas), MPG 34 highway (hybrid). Excludes other GM vehicles.
17) Saturn AURA with available 4-cylinder engine and 6-speed automatic transmission. Comparable Honda Accord and Toyota Camry LE, both with an EPA estimated MPG 31 highway.
18) Based on GM Compact SUV-Crossover segment and EPA estimated MPG 32 highway.
19) Vehicle's projected resale value is specific to the 2009 model year. For more information, visit Kelley Blue Book's kbb.com. Kelley Blue Book is a registered trademark of Kelley Blue Book Co., Inc.
20) Based on IIHS segmentation and testing results. IIHS results based on front-, side- and rear-impact tests and the availability of Electronic Stability Control.
21) 2008 MINI Cooper S Convertible with automatic transmission and an EPA estimated 19 MPG city. 22) Saab 9-3: Based on IIHS segmentation and testing results. IIHS results based on front-, side- and rear-impact tests and the availability of Electronic Stability Control.
23) Based on EPA Annual Fuel Costs and EPA estimated MPG. H3 EPA estimated MPG 14 city, 18 highway. Pathfinder EPA estimated MPG 14 city, 20 highway (premium fuel recommended).
24) Assumes fully charged battery. Actual range may vary depending on driving habits and conditions. Vehicle features and performance capabilities subject to change without notice.
25) Tax, title, license, dealer fees and optional equipment extra. Not available with some other offers. At participating dealers only. Take delivery by 1/5/09. See dealer for details.
The marks of General Motors, its divisions, slogans, emblems, vehicle model names, vehicle body designs and other marks appearing in this email are the trademarks and/or service marks of General Motors Corporation, its subsidiaries, affiliates or licensors. ©2008 GM Corp.
Buckle up, America!
General Motors Corporation
100 Renaissance Center 482-A00-MAR
Detroit, MI 48265
Tuesday, December 16, 2008
High finance & misdemeanors
Interesting follow-on to the breaking story on Bernie Madoff, the hedge fund exec who’s lost around $50B (known so far in the US) in what he’s confessed to be an elaborate Ponzi scheme.
The BBC reports that British banks are now whining that their falling for the Madoff come-on to the tune of a couple of billion dollars more of their clients’ money is all down to US failure to regulate hedge funds.
Let me get this straight: you toss your clients’ dough hand over fist into “investments” precisely because they’re high risk/high yield & because you AND your clients are greedy bastards…& it’s somehow the fault of US regulators that it’s all gone pear-shaped?
Evidently the term “due diligence” has no meaning in the world of hedge funds.
I’m not saying the regulators weren’t asleep at the wheel—or at least acting in accordance with current administration policies to turn the high-stakes investment business into the wild west. But this trans-Atlantic finger pointing & pouting is just symptomatic of the problems with the whole corporate world.
Nothing’s wrong; & if there is, I didn’t do it.
The BBC reports that British banks are now whining that their falling for the Madoff come-on to the tune of a couple of billion dollars more of their clients’ money is all down to US failure to regulate hedge funds.
Let me get this straight: you toss your clients’ dough hand over fist into “investments” precisely because they’re high risk/high yield & because you AND your clients are greedy bastards…& it’s somehow the fault of US regulators that it’s all gone pear-shaped?
Evidently the term “due diligence” has no meaning in the world of hedge funds.
I’m not saying the regulators weren’t asleep at the wheel—or at least acting in accordance with current administration policies to turn the high-stakes investment business into the wild west. But this trans-Atlantic finger pointing & pouting is just symptomatic of the problems with the whole corporate world.
Nothing’s wrong; & if there is, I didn’t do it.
Monday, December 15, 2008
A modest proposal
You’ve no doubt heard of the latest financial debacle by now, Bernard Madoff, whose sons & business partners ratted him out to the feds, ran what he himself called a gigantic, high-stakes Ponzi scheme. Here’s the wheeze: he targeted “sophisticated investors”.
The WSJ analyzes this psychology that any half-way successful con man would recognize: assure the marks that this is an exclusive offer, available to only a lucky few, & you’ll have people elbowing each other out of the way to throw handfuls of money at you.
You know, I wouldn’t give a toss about trust-fund babies being kneecapped by their own greed. Except I just opened the quarterly statement for one of my IRA accounts, & it’s dropped almost by half in the last three months.
Remember that movie Escape from New York? Where all the worst criminals are locked up in maximum-security Manhattan? They should do that with all these CEOs, hedge fund managers & all the greedy bastards who fed their cons. Just their money, their risk, nothing crosses over any of the water surrounding the place.
The world would be infinitely better off.
The WSJ analyzes this psychology that any half-way successful con man would recognize: assure the marks that this is an exclusive offer, available to only a lucky few, & you’ll have people elbowing each other out of the way to throw handfuls of money at you.
You know, I wouldn’t give a toss about trust-fund babies being kneecapped by their own greed. Except I just opened the quarterly statement for one of my IRA accounts, & it’s dropped almost by half in the last three months.
Remember that movie Escape from New York? Where all the worst criminals are locked up in maximum-security Manhattan? They should do that with all these CEOs, hedge fund managers & all the greedy bastards who fed their cons. Just their money, their risk, nothing crosses over any of the water surrounding the place.
The world would be infinitely better off.
Sunday, December 14, 2008
The TV version
Something occurs to me in thinking about Christmas movies, and in particular the flock of soppy happy-clappy wisps that are churned out every year for Lifetime, Hallmark, and the like. I’ve watched way more than my share of them in recent years—there’s a horrid fascination with them, like I can’t believe that this one is going to be even worse than the one I saw last week.
But it always is.
And here’s what I’ve gleaned from these mass-market two-hour contemporary holiday cards.
Apparently the True Meaning of Christmas is that if you’re no older than 32 and drop-dead gorgeous (preferably blonde), you’ll find your genuine (and usually very wealthy) love at the holidays.
I guess the rest of us can just mainline Dalmane throughout December.
But it always is.
And here’s what I’ve gleaned from these mass-market two-hour contemporary holiday cards.
Apparently the True Meaning of Christmas is that if you’re no older than 32 and drop-dead gorgeous (preferably blonde), you’ll find your genuine (and usually very wealthy) love at the holidays.
I guess the rest of us can just mainline Dalmane throughout December.
Saturday, December 13, 2008
Tis the film season
Despite what some may think, I actually do like Christmas. I love Christmas music (by which I mostly mean Praetorius, Handel, Bach and Corelli), and I’m pretty much a sucker for Christmas movies.
This being the month when they all start oozing out of the airwaves, I thought I’d list some of my favorites.
Naturally, it can’t be Christmas without Dickens. There are a squillion iterations of A Christmas Carol. Purists always cite the 1951 Alastair Sim version (titled Scrooge), but I favor the 1999 TV production with Patrick Stewart as Scrooge. I think I like it because of the Cratchits. Richard E. Grant makes a super Bob, and Saskia Reeves has not been bettered as Mrs. Cratchit. Moreover, Trevor Peacock, Liz Smith (both recognizable to fans of The Vicar of Dibley) and Elizabeth Sprigs practically steal the show as the future ghouls disposing of Scrooge’s meager possessions.
Carol is the fallback position for every producer who wants a quick and dirty tear-jerker for the season. They hire some hack to put a “fresh” or “contemporary” spin on the tale. They’re stunningly ghastly. There’s one with Tori Spelling in the Scrooge role, Gary Coleman as the Ghost of Christmas Past and William Shatner as Christmas Present. ’Nuff said.
There’s also A Diva’s Christmas Carol, with Vanessa Williams as Ebony Scrooge (I’m not making this up); and Ebbie, with Susan Lucci as a department store owner who gets to change her clothes a whole lot; and Karroll’s Christmas; and—well, I’m making myself sick here.
The one exception to this rule of awfulness is Scrooged. I wasn’t a fan of Bill Murray until I saw this film, but he’s perfect. Plus, the dialogue is terrific. There’s one line that has imprinted on me: “The Jews taught me a word—it’s a great word: schmuck. I…was a schmuck…” Add in Carol Kane as the whacked-out Ghost of Christmas Present and you really have a classic. I can watch Scrooged again and again.
Actually, it’s interesting that most of the knock-offs are comedies. I suppose it’s partly because some of the actors (see Tori Spelling, above) are too lightweight to handle drama and the true darkness that pervades Dickens’ tale, the real bleakness of Scrooge’s life.
Also, most are for basic cable, and of course we don’t want near-tragedy when you’re trying to hawk SaladShooters and those hooks you can stick on your mantel.
Leaving Dickens, I’m probably the only person in America who isn’t a fan of It’s a Wonderful Life. It’s okay, but the one that I love is Miracle on 34th Street. The original, not the remake. It’s saved from complete treacly-ness by the fact that the acquittal of Kris Kringle can be explained by a confluence of totally cynical events (the judge needs to be re-elected; the postal workers want to offload all the letters to Santa on that guy in the news, etc.). Plus, there is no Kris Kringle but Edmund Gwenn.
And while I despise the recent remake of 34th Street, I find Dear God charming, and can watch it any time. Partly it’s Greg Kinnear and the collection of outcasts he works with at the Post Office (what’s not to love about Tim Conway as a letter carrier demoted for biting a dog?). But again, it’s that convergence of venal intentions that morph into doing-good that really makes it shine.
Meet Me in Saint Louis isn’t strictly a Christmas film, but it has one of the best songs ever: “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas”. Also Margaret O’Brien. It was released in January 1945, when the country had been battered by the knowledge that the war hadn’t ended by Christmas, and in fact that Hitler’s Ardennes offensive (the Battle of the Bulge) had briefly looked like it would drive the Allies back to the sea. The wistful “From now on our troubles will be out of sight” must have captured what thousands of American families were hoping during that time.
The Bells of St. Mary's was also made during WWII (released January 1945). I prefer it to Going My Way—probably because of the presence of Ingrid Bergman. Also, there's never been a Christmas Pageant like the one at St. Mary's, ever. But there should be.
Desk Set, Trading Places and The Shop Around the Corner are also not strictly Christmas movies; it’s the setting for the plots. Desk Set’s classic scene is Katharine Hepburn getting spiffed at the office Christmas party and spewing back a cognitive test Spencer Tracy had given her earlier. It’s Tracy-Hepburn at their best. Plus, Joan Blondell rocks.
Shop was “remade” in 1949, as In the Good Old Summertime (frankly forgettable unless you’re a Judy Garland fan) and in 1998, as You’ve Got Mail; but neither touches the class of the original. Tom Hanks may be the latter-day Jimmy Stewart, but there’s nowhere near the charm quotient of Shop in that movie. (Plus, Shop is about poor people in love despite themselves; Mail is definitely about people so rich they really could buy love.) I’m frankly not that big a fan of Margaret Sullavan, or her character in the film, but the overall interaction is remarkably heart-warming. I especially love the scene where Mr. Matuschek goes off with the new delivery boy—two lonely men from opposite ends of the spectrum—for a scrumptious Christmas Eve dinner.
I have a special place in my heart for Trading Places—I worked on it during my stint in Hollywood. I never did understand the schtick on the commodities floor, but I believe Eddie Murphy nailed the whole brokerage gig when he told the Duke brothers that they were bookies.
The 1955 We’re No Angels gives us Humphrey Bogart, Aldo Ray and Peter Ustinov as three escapees from Devil’s Island who bring Christmas cheer to a kind family they plan to rob. A viper also plays a major role.
You can’t go wrong with a Bill Forsyth film, and Comfort and Joy doesn’t disappoint. It starts with radio presenter Alan Bird being blindsided by his klepto girlfriend moving out of his flat, and moves on to him solving an ice cream war of rival Italian families in Glasgow. A recipe for banana fritters figures heavily in the dénouement. The final scene with him sipping whiskey during his program on Christmas day is just as convivial as it gets.
Of course, it just wouldn’t be Christmas without the official Red Ryder carbine-action 200-shot range model air rifle. A Christmas Story is a classic in every sense of the word. Jean Shepherd’s narration sets the tone of that time when the media influences on children were limited to radio, magazines and the Saturday matinée. Young Ralphie struggles to make the world conform to his daydreams—and does a fairly good job of it most of the time.
There are many wonderful scenes in the film—the arrival of The Old Man’s Italian/fra-gee-lay Major Award, the raid by the Bumpuses’ dogs, Ralphie freezing when he finally makes it to Santa's lap in the department store—but I think the one I love the most is Christmas dinner in the Chinese restaurant. If that doesn’t embody the True Meaning of Christmas, then I don’t know what does.
If you get a chance to see any of these this season, see if you agree with me.
This being the month when they all start oozing out of the airwaves, I thought I’d list some of my favorites.
Naturally, it can’t be Christmas without Dickens. There are a squillion iterations of A Christmas Carol. Purists always cite the 1951 Alastair Sim version (titled Scrooge), but I favor the 1999 TV production with Patrick Stewart as Scrooge. I think I like it because of the Cratchits. Richard E. Grant makes a super Bob, and Saskia Reeves has not been bettered as Mrs. Cratchit. Moreover, Trevor Peacock, Liz Smith (both recognizable to fans of The Vicar of Dibley) and Elizabeth Sprigs practically steal the show as the future ghouls disposing of Scrooge’s meager possessions.
Carol is the fallback position for every producer who wants a quick and dirty tear-jerker for the season. They hire some hack to put a “fresh” or “contemporary” spin on the tale. They’re stunningly ghastly. There’s one with Tori Spelling in the Scrooge role, Gary Coleman as the Ghost of Christmas Past and William Shatner as Christmas Present. ’Nuff said.
There’s also A Diva’s Christmas Carol, with Vanessa Williams as Ebony Scrooge (I’m not making this up); and Ebbie, with Susan Lucci as a department store owner who gets to change her clothes a whole lot; and Karroll’s Christmas; and—well, I’m making myself sick here.
The one exception to this rule of awfulness is Scrooged. I wasn’t a fan of Bill Murray until I saw this film, but he’s perfect. Plus, the dialogue is terrific. There’s one line that has imprinted on me: “The Jews taught me a word—it’s a great word: schmuck. I…was a schmuck…” Add in Carol Kane as the whacked-out Ghost of Christmas Present and you really have a classic. I can watch Scrooged again and again.
Actually, it’s interesting that most of the knock-offs are comedies. I suppose it’s partly because some of the actors (see Tori Spelling, above) are too lightweight to handle drama and the true darkness that pervades Dickens’ tale, the real bleakness of Scrooge’s life.
Also, most are for basic cable, and of course we don’t want near-tragedy when you’re trying to hawk SaladShooters and those hooks you can stick on your mantel.
Leaving Dickens, I’m probably the only person in America who isn’t a fan of It’s a Wonderful Life. It’s okay, but the one that I love is Miracle on 34th Street. The original, not the remake. It’s saved from complete treacly-ness by the fact that the acquittal of Kris Kringle can be explained by a confluence of totally cynical events (the judge needs to be re-elected; the postal workers want to offload all the letters to Santa on that guy in the news, etc.). Plus, there is no Kris Kringle but Edmund Gwenn.
And while I despise the recent remake of 34th Street, I find Dear God charming, and can watch it any time. Partly it’s Greg Kinnear and the collection of outcasts he works with at the Post Office (what’s not to love about Tim Conway as a letter carrier demoted for biting a dog?). But again, it’s that convergence of venal intentions that morph into doing-good that really makes it shine.
Meet Me in Saint Louis isn’t strictly a Christmas film, but it has one of the best songs ever: “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas”. Also Margaret O’Brien. It was released in January 1945, when the country had been battered by the knowledge that the war hadn’t ended by Christmas, and in fact that Hitler’s Ardennes offensive (the Battle of the Bulge) had briefly looked like it would drive the Allies back to the sea. The wistful “From now on our troubles will be out of sight” must have captured what thousands of American families were hoping during that time.
The Bells of St. Mary's was also made during WWII (released January 1945). I prefer it to Going My Way—probably because of the presence of Ingrid Bergman. Also, there's never been a Christmas Pageant like the one at St. Mary's, ever. But there should be.
Desk Set, Trading Places and The Shop Around the Corner are also not strictly Christmas movies; it’s the setting for the plots. Desk Set’s classic scene is Katharine Hepburn getting spiffed at the office Christmas party and spewing back a cognitive test Spencer Tracy had given her earlier. It’s Tracy-Hepburn at their best. Plus, Joan Blondell rocks.
Shop was “remade” in 1949, as In the Good Old Summertime (frankly forgettable unless you’re a Judy Garland fan) and in 1998, as You’ve Got Mail; but neither touches the class of the original. Tom Hanks may be the latter-day Jimmy Stewart, but there’s nowhere near the charm quotient of Shop in that movie. (Plus, Shop is about poor people in love despite themselves; Mail is definitely about people so rich they really could buy love.) I’m frankly not that big a fan of Margaret Sullavan, or her character in the film, but the overall interaction is remarkably heart-warming. I especially love the scene where Mr. Matuschek goes off with the new delivery boy—two lonely men from opposite ends of the spectrum—for a scrumptious Christmas Eve dinner.
I have a special place in my heart for Trading Places—I worked on it during my stint in Hollywood. I never did understand the schtick on the commodities floor, but I believe Eddie Murphy nailed the whole brokerage gig when he told the Duke brothers that they were bookies.
The 1955 We’re No Angels gives us Humphrey Bogart, Aldo Ray and Peter Ustinov as three escapees from Devil’s Island who bring Christmas cheer to a kind family they plan to rob. A viper also plays a major role.
You can’t go wrong with a Bill Forsyth film, and Comfort and Joy doesn’t disappoint. It starts with radio presenter Alan Bird being blindsided by his klepto girlfriend moving out of his flat, and moves on to him solving an ice cream war of rival Italian families in Glasgow. A recipe for banana fritters figures heavily in the dénouement. The final scene with him sipping whiskey during his program on Christmas day is just as convivial as it gets.
Of course, it just wouldn’t be Christmas without the official Red Ryder carbine-action 200-shot range model air rifle. A Christmas Story is a classic in every sense of the word. Jean Shepherd’s narration sets the tone of that time when the media influences on children were limited to radio, magazines and the Saturday matinée. Young Ralphie struggles to make the world conform to his daydreams—and does a fairly good job of it most of the time.
There are many wonderful scenes in the film—the arrival of The Old Man’s Italian/fra-gee-lay Major Award, the raid by the Bumpuses’ dogs, Ralphie freezing when he finally makes it to Santa's lap in the department store—but I think the one I love the most is Christmas dinner in the Chinese restaurant. If that doesn’t embody the True Meaning of Christmas, then I don’t know what does.
If you get a chance to see any of these this season, see if you agree with me.
Friday, December 12, 2008
Cruising to Valkyrie
I told myself when I first discovered Tom Cruise was starring in the upcoming film about the 1944 plot to kill Adolf Hitler that I wasn’t going to go off the deep end. After all, Cruise might be able to capture the complex character of Claus Schenk Graf von Stauffenberg; even if he is a foot too short…
But from what I’ve seen of the trailers for Valkyrie, with Cruise shouting & scowling—basically hamming it up, because you couldn’t possibly have an anti-Nazi hero without histrionics—I can’t decide whether to cringe or pound something.
I’m not all that fussed about him being a Scientologist; he’s an actor, after all, & one presumes an actor can manage a Roman Catholic.
It’s the parading about, being the freaking hero that’s such an abomination. Stauffenberg’s road to 20 July was long & difficult. For a deeply religious Catholic, a German officer imbued in the idea that duty means obedience to laws & leaders—concluding that the only action that would save Germany was a coup to assassinate Hitler (& Goering & Himmler, which was the plan) & replace them with a new government was wrenching.
It wasn't just an assassination; it was a coup. Assassination would have accomplished nothing but chaos; they wanted a constructive outcome that would save Germany from the destruction it was clearly headed for.
(& it's notable that it was the military, the group most closely bound by oath & sense of duty, to Hitler that made multiple attempts to remove him from power. Not civilians, not businessmen, not clergy; the military.)
Piecing together like-minded officers was a painstaking process & fraught with peril. Keeping a conspiracy secret in a police state is not easy, & the plotters needed enough high-powered leaders to form a post-Nazi government, as well as a plan for that government’s policies. One had to carefully sound out colleagues, because an officer's duty is to the state, & it would be the responsibility of any not a supporter to rat out the rest of them. (In the event, there were those who declined to participate; but they kept the secret.)
It wasn’t action-heroics, it was excruciatingly slow & intense.
The events of 20 July & its aftermath were tragic. Stauffenberg had time only to arm one of the two bombs in his briefcase. After he left the map room at Rastenberg, someone moved the briefcase behind a thick table leg, so that when the bomb went off, Hitler suffered only minor injuries. There was confusion in Berlin over how to carry out the coup, & in the end it was crushed before it really started.
Stauffenberg was shot late that night, his last words “Long live Germany!” He was lucky in his form of execution; hundreds were given show trials & hanged by piano wire from meat hooks. Others were thrown into prison, many executed just before Germany’s surrender in 1945. (Field Marshal Erwin Rommel, not at the heart, but implicated in the plot, was forced to commit suicide to spare his family being imprisoned.)
I suppose it’s the “Long live Germany!” that got Cruise. How could he resist such an exit line?
He’s told reporters that he was “amazed” to discover it was a true story. That just makes my teeth hurt.
Well, what’s done is done. They’re releasing the film on Christmas Day, & the studio hopes Cruise will be a big box office draw.
It’s just a pity that millions of people will learn about Stauffenberg & his comrades through this film, & that they’ll think Cruise is an accurate representation.
If they even care.
But from what I’ve seen of the trailers for Valkyrie, with Cruise shouting & scowling—basically hamming it up, because you couldn’t possibly have an anti-Nazi hero without histrionics—I can’t decide whether to cringe or pound something.
I’m not all that fussed about him being a Scientologist; he’s an actor, after all, & one presumes an actor can manage a Roman Catholic.
It’s the parading about, being the freaking hero that’s such an abomination. Stauffenberg’s road to 20 July was long & difficult. For a deeply religious Catholic, a German officer imbued in the idea that duty means obedience to laws & leaders—concluding that the only action that would save Germany was a coup to assassinate Hitler (& Goering & Himmler, which was the plan) & replace them with a new government was wrenching.
It wasn't just an assassination; it was a coup. Assassination would have accomplished nothing but chaos; they wanted a constructive outcome that would save Germany from the destruction it was clearly headed for.
(& it's notable that it was the military, the group most closely bound by oath & sense of duty, to Hitler that made multiple attempts to remove him from power. Not civilians, not businessmen, not clergy; the military.)
Piecing together like-minded officers was a painstaking process & fraught with peril. Keeping a conspiracy secret in a police state is not easy, & the plotters needed enough high-powered leaders to form a post-Nazi government, as well as a plan for that government’s policies. One had to carefully sound out colleagues, because an officer's duty is to the state, & it would be the responsibility of any not a supporter to rat out the rest of them. (In the event, there were those who declined to participate; but they kept the secret.)
It wasn’t action-heroics, it was excruciatingly slow & intense.
The events of 20 July & its aftermath were tragic. Stauffenberg had time only to arm one of the two bombs in his briefcase. After he left the map room at Rastenberg, someone moved the briefcase behind a thick table leg, so that when the bomb went off, Hitler suffered only minor injuries. There was confusion in Berlin over how to carry out the coup, & in the end it was crushed before it really started.
Stauffenberg was shot late that night, his last words “Long live Germany!” He was lucky in his form of execution; hundreds were given show trials & hanged by piano wire from meat hooks. Others were thrown into prison, many executed just before Germany’s surrender in 1945. (Field Marshal Erwin Rommel, not at the heart, but implicated in the plot, was forced to commit suicide to spare his family being imprisoned.)
I suppose it’s the “Long live Germany!” that got Cruise. How could he resist such an exit line?
He’s told reporters that he was “amazed” to discover it was a true story. That just makes my teeth hurt.
Well, what’s done is done. They’re releasing the film on Christmas Day, & the studio hopes Cruise will be a big box office draw.
It’s just a pity that millions of people will learn about Stauffenberg & his comrades through this film, & that they’ll think Cruise is an accurate representation.
If they even care.
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