December 28, 2004

Tsunami

I have not had time to scroll through my usual suspects, my daily reads, but I suspect that the reaction to the tsunami which has claimed in excess of 40,000 lives in Asia has been sympathetic and appropriate. Indeed, I probably have nothing of any value to add. Merely, I want to register my horror and my sadness. As always, I am particularly moved by the deaths of the children, by the stories of parents who had their babies torn from their arms and drowned by the waves. Particularly, my hearts go out to those parents who survived such an experience. I try, fruitlessly, to wrap my mind around the enormity, the incomprehensible enormity of such an experience and I wonder whether and how these parents will live with the guilt, the feeling that they failed their children when their children needed them most. The parents are, of course, without blame. The waves are reported as being supernaturally strong and I don't mean to suggest that the parents are to be blamed for having lost that struggle. No, not at all. But I do think that these parents, however blameless, will still feel guilt and still believe themselves to be at fault. I assume I would and I generalize from that.

My heart goes out to all of those forever changed by this unimaginable tragedy.

Pax tibi.

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December 16, 2004

WhattaMAla (pronunciation courtesty of Hank Azaria in Birdcage)

That's right. We are off to Guatemala tomorrow morning on the dawn flight. We have to be at John F. Kennedy Airport at 5:00 in the morning. I shudder at the thought, frankly. We will be gone for a little less than 2 weeks to visit my in-laws who are stationed there. To review, a trip to the in-laws is not vacation, even if you have to take vacation time from work to take the trip.

I expect to have sporadic access to a computer there and will write, therefore, only occasionally. So, just in case I can't do it later, let me wish you all now, a merry Christmas and a happy and a healthy New Year.

By the way, don't you just love the character Hank Azaria played in that movie?

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Interesting little fact about .38's

I was reading an article on the train this morning about the old timers in the NYC Police Department who still prefer to keep their .38's as opposed to using the newer semi-automatics. The article actually kind of fetishized the .38's and the beauty of them in sort of a disturbing way. But there was this little assertion I thought was fascinating:

The grips still echo the earliest revolvers, designed in the 19th century to feel like the handle of a plow in a man's hand.

Isn't that an interesting bit o' design history?

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December 15, 2004

Ask not for whom that wind is blowing

So. Damn. Cold. This. Morning. The wind really did feel like it had the power to lacerate my skin, to neatly dissect and lift it off of my face. Although sometimes it caressed me, gently, before it kind of curled around and smacked me in the ear. I hate it when it does that. In order to distract myself, I got to thinking. What is wind? What causes it? So I set out to find out.

Wind is defined several different ways:

wind, air current, current of air -- (air moving (sometimes with considerable force) from an area of high pressure to an area of low pressure
Source.

or

The horizontal movement of air in relation to the earth's surface. Wind direction tells where the wind is blowing from. For example, a "north wind" is coming from the north and is blowing towards the south. There are four components of wind that are measured: direction, speed, character (ie - whether it's a gust or a squall) and shifts.
Source

or, finally,

Wind - horizontal motion of air near the surface of the Earth.
Source.

Well, so that's what wind is. Air moving. Ok, up to this point, I kind of knew that.

But what causes wind?

A simple answer:

Wind-A result due to the differences in air mass pressures (temperature). The wind blows as a result of nature trying to balance the differences. The larger the differences between air masses, the stronger the wind.
Source.

I understand it now. The wind blows my ass off at the train station because someone is likely warmer at that moment than I am.

I have to say, intuitively, I already understood that.

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And now for something really frivolous

If you grew up when I did, you know, high school and college in the 80's, then you remember Rice a Roni, the San Francisco treat!. Please note, I did not say fondly. You may not remember it fondly. But you may, I suppose. I'm rather neutral on it and kind of don't remember the taste but for an overarching impression of copious amounts of sodium. But the song, the jingle, that is engraved on my memory, slotted just underneath the old Mounds jingle: Sometimes you feel like a nut, sometimes you don't . . .. That one is a killer.

But I got to wondering, in a pure free association moment yesterday brought on by being awakened by cries from the monitor of "more water, please!" (points given for saying please at 12:30 a.m. and then again at 3:00 a.m.), why is it a San Francisco Treat? Why not a Newark Treat? Or a Santa Fe Treat? You see where I'm going, of course. Well, I just had to know, so I fired up Google this morning and have the answer, straight from the company website: the company was founded there.

In 1912, Maria persuaded Charlie to set up a pasta factory, Gragnano Products, Inc., in the Mission district in San Francisco. The successful business sold 25 and 50-pound boxes of pasta to Italian stores and restaurants in the area. Four of Charlie's sons, Paskey, Vince, Tom and Anthony, worked with him to build the pasta business.

In 1934, the oldest brother, Paskey, proposed a new name for the company based on a newspaper ad for "Golden Grain" smoking Tobacco. The family agreed that Golden Grain was a good name for macaroni and the name "Golden Grain Macaroni Company" was adopted.

A neighbor's Armenian style rice pilaf recipe inspired the original idea for RICE-A-RONI®, a mixture of rice and macaroni. Tom's wife Lois served the dish at a family dinner, and it became a favorite of the DeDomenico families. In 1958, Vince mixed a dry chicken soup mix, made at the plant, with rice and vermicelli to create the San Francisco treat which he named RICE-A-RONI. The unique preparation of the dish, and its wonderful flavor and convenience, made the dish one of America's favorite products. The RICE-A-RONI jingle, The San Francisco Treat® slogan, "Saute and Simmer" and scenic San Francisco became familiar to every household in America in the 60's as the product was introduced through television advertising.

The company offers no apologies for the creation of Noodle Roni, instead seemingly laying blame on an otherwise blameless restaurant in Rome.

A trip to Italy in 1964 inspired Vince to develop Noodle Roni Parmesano based on the classic "Noodles Alfredo" dish served to him at Alfredo's restaurant in Rome.

There should have been at least a recognition that they did their best to kill an important piece of Italian culinary history.

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December 14, 2004

I want an order to show cause and a pina colada!

The sun was still not up yet when I exited Grand Central Station this morning and it was feeling quite cold, despite overhearing a fellow commuter relate to his buddy that the Wall Street Journal reported today that this Winter was 5% warmer than the preceding 10 year average. Of course, I immediately wondered about the geographical area included in this average, but no matter. No, I sit here in my office, cold, preparing for what might be the final day of trial in this $30 million loan guarantee case (we go today from 9:30 to 1:00)and also preparing for a hearing (2:30-??) in the bankruptcy court to try to stop a very culpable party from weaseling out from under an $18 million judgment we have against them. In the bankruptcy, I am special counsel to the trustee and will be attending as co-counsel so while someone else is carrying the laboring oar there I still have a lot to do.

Gonna be a long cold day today.

Is it any wonder that the recently advertised job post for a position as an Assistant United States Attorney in the District of the Virgin Islands looks blindingly good right now? A motion and a daiquiri, anyone? A jury charge conference and a planter's punch?

Actually, all kidding aside, this information I quote from the above link is kind of interesting, despite the use of the phrase "very unique" which is just bad English (this just proves I need to get out more, I know, I know):

The District is very (sic) unique in many respects. First, the District Court of the Virgin Islands is not constituted under Article III of the Constitution but rather under Article IV, Section 3, Clause 2. Consequently, the district court judges serve eight-year terms rather than appointments for life. Second, the District has no permanent bankruptcy judges. Bankruptcy judges from the Third Judicial Circuit are temporarily assigned to hear bankruptcy matters in the District of the Virgin Islands.

This is the only Judicial District which is not mandated to utilize the grand jury. Until 1993, no grand jury was used in the District. The Bill of Rights does not necessarily apply to residents of the Virgin Islands. Virgin Islanders do not have the right to vote in United States elections. As a matter of policy, however, the USAO uses the grand jury except for routine cases.

The District contains separate customs zones. Unlike Puerto Rico, when persons leave this District they are required to go through U.S. Customs. Goods are duty free up to $1,200. Duties which are paid go to the Territory of the Virgin Islands. The Immigration and Naturalization Service (INS) office in this District is very active. This is the only District which prosecutes all illegal alien cases. Recently, it was noted that the District had the 8th largest number of Immigration cases of all of the nation's 94 districts.

The District Court of the Virgin Islands will not permit use of local pretrial detention facilities due to a standing court order concerning substandard conditions of confinement. As a result, all federal detainees must be transported to and from San Juan, Puerto Rico. Finally, income tax returns from the residents of the Virgin Islands are filed with the Territory of the Virgin Islands, which keeps all tax revenues except for Social Security taxes.

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December 13, 2004

"He had a good war"

Ever hear that phrase? "He had a good war"? The British use it to describe someone who was decorated or otherwise distinguished himself, usually during WW II. It also means someone who did something dashing and in the best traditions of not letting the war inconvenience your life, too much. You don't hear it much today. Today, people don't talk like that.

I was reminded of the phrase by the following extract from a British obituary.

Shortly afterwards Carey, painfully aware that "the parlous state of our Hurricanes was showing" and that communications with Calcutta had broken down, attempted to reach the city in a broken down Tiger Moth. But he got only as far as Akyab, where he hitched a ride as spare pilot in a Vickers Valencia transport and arrived in Calcutta, and went down with malaria.

By then he had started to attract press attention in Britain as the RAF's cockney pilot. His recovery was aided when he was awarded a second Bar to his DFC and was charged with forming a defence wing for the city.

As enemy raids increased Carey turned the Red Road, the main thoroughfare across the city, into a fighter runway. "One advantage," he recalled, "was that it was quite possible to sit in Firpo's, the city's fashionable restaurant, and take off within three to four minutes. I managed it on several occasions."

Can't you just see it? Stop in the fashionable boite to have a quick bite and a drink, hop in the plane and off within minutes back to the war. Makes you think he had a good war, doesn't it?

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December 09, 2004

Holiday Cards: A trip down memory lane

I just returned from mailing off our holiday cards, all 93 of them. It took us a long two nights to write messages to everyone, stuff, seal, and stamp. It was a companionable time, though, and I kind of enjoyed just sitting at the kitchen table with my wife and listening to her gentle (sometimes, not so gentle) profanity as she tore an envelope here or put the wrong card in the wrong envelope there.

Otherwise, I was a bit alone with my thoughts as we scribbled away. It was fun to realize that on these sheets of labels, I had a sort of chronological roadmap to my life.

The oldest friend rang in at 35 years, which is a long time but especially when you consider we are each only 37. That is a friendship I take great pleasure in.

After that, people sort of popped up onto the list from the Summer I spent in China, some 20 years ago, and friends I made in France, some almost 15 years ago, and friends I made in England, over 10 years ago when I lived and worked there.

Business acquaintances made it on the list, but only because I liked them, not because I needed to send them a card. In other words, they became friends through business but are not on the list because I do business with them.

Friends from University and from Law School are there. Friends from New Orleans are there. Former neighbors from our old co-op in the City are on the list. I used to be the Vice President of that Board and still have lots of friends there.

Family, all over the world, are on the list, for sure. My wife got to write any of the Norwegian cards herself.

Friends I've made through volunteer work and through various other outside activities made their way onto the list.

All in all, a most satisfactory tour of my past and my present.

Until we consider the deletions. Judaism teaches that the sweet is always mixed with the sour. I suppose that makes sense, there is very little joy that is unalloyed in the world and you might not even be able to fully appreciate the nuances of the happiness without a sprinkling of the sad.

Some were deleted from our list because cards don't get sent to the deceased. They don't have a mantle for them anymore, anyway. The old in our family are dying and the new generation is beginning to fill in for them as the generational odometer ticks over.

Some fell off the list because of desuetude. The friendships withered as people lost the habit of staying in touch. Actually, one card went to just such a person in the hope that it might rekindle the friendship. If not, oh, well, we have enough friends who we don't get to see as it is.

It was a good trip, this little trip of ours down memory lane. The only real snag was running out of cards!

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December 06, 2004

All is Silent from Miami

Since I involved you all in my job interview, I thought I'd let you know the news. There is no news. Well, besides Generalissimo Francisco Franco still being dead (the early SNLs were really the best, weren't they?). I have heard nothing from Miami. My wife thinks I should give them a ring to see what's going on. My view is more of a having heard nothing, I assume I did not get the job, view. Why bother confirming past that? I think I will just let it lie, for now.

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Improbable Name of the Day

I was reading the obituaries in the Daily Telegraph this morning, specifically the obituary of HRH Prince Bernhard of the Netherlands (who, by the way, led a fascinating life), consort to Queen Juliana, when I came upon the name of the young woman with whom it was alleged he may have been unfaithful at some point. The obituary describes it much more discreetly as a "close friendship".

In any event, his close friend was "a young Frenchwoman, the improbably named Poussy Grinda".

I'm really not mature enough to take this seriously. Besides, don't you all hear the James Bond movie theme song now?

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Ribbons, ribbons, everywhere

I was doing a bit of driving this weekend and I noticed, on the car in front of me, a yellow magnetic ribbon and a pink magnetic ribbon. The yellow ribbon was clearly in support of our troops. The pink ribbon, identical in appearance to the yellow ribbon, made me think that the driver of the car also wanted to make clear his or her support for our troops serving in the "don't ask, don't tell" program.

Later, of course, I realized it was a breast cancer ribbon. But it took awhile!

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What do you say?

What do you say to a woman whose husband just died? I pondered that question as I drove about 100 miles on Sunday morning to attend the memorial service for my cousin's husband. I love my cousin, I never much liked her husband but I assume that was really my fault and not his. So I knew that I was going for her and not for him. What do you say? I never really know. Everything seems so inadequate. I settled, finally, on, "I'm sorry". That was all. Just that I was sorry. What else is there to say, really?

The service was interesting. It was conducted by a Minister from a hospice organization that helped him die at home. She was very nice but she said that she did not really know how to conduct the service since Sam told her that she could not mention God at all. She said that this was a first for her. But she spoke movingly of Sam and how she got to know him as he died. That sort of freaked me out, just a little, that Sam was discussing his own death and the memorial service he wanted, that he was, how do I put it, . . . He was more or less alone with the absolute realization that he was planning a party he would not be attending, that whatever else happened, he was alone, all alone at the end. This must come to us all, of course, in one way or another. But I was really struck by the manner in which he died, that he had time to contemplate as something other than a philosophical concept, his own demise. In any event, Sam's brother in law got up at the end and read from the Psalms ("The Lord is my Shepard, etc.) and recited the Mourner's Kaddish. The Minister closed the service by saying, "I was surprised to hear that Sam requested that. So, he tricked me. Good for him! I'm glad".

His last little joke. I'm glad, too.

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A Numbers Game

This weekend, the sitemeter odometer ticked over to the 10,000 mark. That's ten thousand visitors since I moved here from blogspot. Is this a world beater number? Nope. But it still seems highly significant to me. When I started this blog, I did so because I just felt like I had some things to say and I wanted a forum in which to do it. And now just over 10,000 people have stopped by to read. In the process, I have made some new friends and been included in a community of pretty wonderful bloggers. In fact, if you are not aware of Mu.Nu., graciously hosted by Pixy, go click on the sidebar labeled "Munuvians" to browse through the list of the denizens of MuNu.

I'm still not really sure what my blog is, though. I don't think it fits neatly into a simple category but that's not a bad thing. Feel free to chime in if you have mentally slotted my blog into a category. I'd be very curious to hear where you've put it since I have no idea myself.

Anyway, thanks for coming and reading. For those of you who have left comments (I heart comments), thanks doubly!

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December 03, 2004

British Education Marches Proudly into the Past

What other title could you put on a post highlighting the fact that one University in Britain has axed the physics department and another the chemistry department? Watch, as the Brits march proudly into the past since they will not be equiping their students to march into the future.

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December 02, 2004

Silly link of the day

Without further explanation, I give you the Farting Nun Organ.

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The End of Corporate Democracy?

Corporate democracy is an interesting concept. Briefly, it means that if you own an interest, a share, of a corporation, you are entitled to vote on matters which are required to be put for a vote before the shareholders. What matters? Well, elections of directors, corporate and shareholder resolutions, mergers and acquisitions, and certain kinds of asset sales. This right to vote is a fundamental aspect of corporate and share ownership. It may not apply to all classes of stock, of course.

The system is premised on the following concept: those with an economic interest should be permitted a voice in proportion to that economic interest. One share, one vote, in other words. This system has worked pretty well up to now and courts take very seriously issues of shareholder disenfranchisement, freeze out, and other maneuvers by which shareholders are pushed out of their rights to vote.

The system, however, has just been totally gamed. It may not be a bad thing, but it is certainly very interesting.

The NY Times reported this morning on a technique used by the "owner" of 10% of a corporation's outstanding and issued shares in regard to a merger vote. Why is owner in quotes? Simple. The owner of the shares simultaneously bought them while another party, a counterparty (I think), sold the shares short. Result? He owns the shares with absolutely no economic interest or risk. In other words, he has the voting rights but no exposure to the fluctuation of the share price in the market place. Shareholder rights activists are up in arms over this. I, too, was initially quite disturbed by it. But the article, at the absolute very end, quotes a law professor who points out that shareholders in a large public company have no fiduciary duty to each other. I forgot that as I got caught up in the drama of the article. This is important. Shareholders voting on a merger are under no compulsion to vote anything other than what is in their best interests, not the best interests of their fellow shareholders. To require otherwise would be unwieldy at best and at worst would require a level of care in a relationship of co-shareholders that is absolutely unwarranted.

This is an interesting issue, I think. Gaming the corporate democracy system by holding voting shares with no economic exposure. It raises the question of why you would want to do it at all if you don't stand to gain by any price movement in the shares you "own". The article in the Times did not address this question. But suppose the "owner" really did own shares in the other company in the merger. . . Maybe that's where the play is. Very clever, if so.

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December 01, 2004

Future of Welsh Hip-hop

Go check out GLC (goldie lookin chain) to catch their new single, Your Mother's got a Penis, and ponder, if you dare, the future of Welch Hip-hop.

Come on, you know you want to.

UPDATE:

If you are visiting, I have another post on Welsh Hip Hop here. Also, congratulations (link to my small tribute post) to the nation of Wales on the outstanding Six Nations Rugby Grand Slam!

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