There is no other way to think about it, it just sucked. I will be happy to give this week the back of my hand and see it no more. Let me review.

Monday

Actually, Monday was fine, I think. I'm having trouble remembering back that far but I think it was fine.

Tuesday

Here officially commenceth the suckitude.

Leave work early to try to take ailing family (my parents') pet to the vet while my mother is in the hospital and my father is away on a business trip he could not get out of. Arrive to find beloved dog dead. See below for post on this. Handled disposal arrangements and broke news to parents. That was fun.

Come home to find Boy Child is running 104 degree fever. Call doctor emergency service.

Wednesday

Don't go to work. Take my mother home from the hospital. Spend hours at hospital dealing with release, getting her settled at home, doing grocery shopping for her, etc., etc. Find out her oldest friend has died that day. I knew that woman for most of my life. Very sad.

Boy Child still has fever but seems to be getting better.

Thursday

Children do not sleep through the night before. Wake as exhausted as went to sleep. Drag self to office.

9:40, receive phone call from Girl Child's camp that nanny was acting irrationally and incoherently. Nanny told camp people that she lost GC, five minutes after dropping GC off with group. Turned whole building upside down before it became clear to camp people that nanny thought it was 12:00 and not 9:00. They called me to express deep concern. Holy shit. Jump on 10:10 train home.

Long discussion with nanny who has convinced us, barely, that she is not losing her apparently tenuous grip on reality, promises us that she will be home earlier at night and sleep more, and that this was just an isolated, strange event. We remain skeptical but hopeful.

Wife and I pick GC up from camp ourselves and take her out to lunch after I spend 45 minutes interviewing 4 different camp people to find out exactly what transpired from their perspective.

BC spikes fever again. Rush to doctor to be told it's a virus and let him ride it out. Whew.

Am asleep before GC.

Friday

GC awakes at approximately 1:00 a.m. complaining of pain in her teeth. Wife attends to her for 45 minutes. Wife tags out, I tag in at 1:49 a.m. I attend to GC until 3:00 a.m. when, after giving her some children's Tylenol, she goes to sleep.

Alarm goes off at 5:30, I go back to sleep. Wife's alarm goes off at 5:45. I stumble out of bed. GC is out of bed by 7, still complaining of pain.

Call dentist's service at 7:30, leave message, go to work, where I remain at present, ambivalent about our plans to go out for dinner tonight during what is forecast to be a monsoon.

I have a headache.

Goodbye week and good riddance! Other than breakfast with the GC on Wednesday morning, I'm happy to shut the books on this one.

I really need some sleep.

Posted by: Random Penseur at 10:06 AM | Comments (12) | Add Comment
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Today, barring any unforeseen problems, is the day my mother will be released from hospital and I, being the dutiful son, will go to fetch her home as my father does not return from his business trip until tonight.

But I don't have to go get her until the late morning, so I am not going to the office today and instead am going to take the opportunity to enjoy my daughter. I am going to take her out for breakfast -- pancakes and chocolate milk for her -- and then take her to her day camp. I am so excited. I told her about it last night and she woke up early this morning and came running into my room at 6:55 and said, "are you staying home today?" And for once, on a weekday, I was able to say that I was.

She climbed up into my lap and installed herself with her head on my collar bone and her hands tucked into her stomach to keep herself warm and just lay there silently while I traced her shoulder blade with my thumb. I closed my eyes and just existed for a moment. It was a moment of beautiful stillness with an otherwise perpetual motion machine. She then lifted her head and asked me if we were still going out for breakfast and I told her we were and she hummed happily and put her head back down again, visions of pancakes dancing in her head, no doubt.

I think today is going to be a better day.

Posted by: Random Penseur at 07:11 AM | Comments (4) | Add Comment
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That's all it costs, I found out today. That's what they charge you to take your friend away. I said that I was going to get my mother from the hospital but there was another problem today as well. And in fact, I will not be able to take my mother home from the hospital until tomorrow. But that's ok, I had other things to do today. See, when I left the office today, I was also going to deal with a medical emergency at my parents' house -- the dog was sick, too.

Well, the dog was more than sick. By the time I got there, she was dead. I find myself curiously reluctant to use the word dead. When I called the vet I told him that the dog had expired and later, when I called someone else, I used the expression, given up the ghost. I kept hesitating over the word, dead, like a mental stutter. But that's what she is all right. There was no question when I walked in that she was gone, that she had departed her body. She was lying on the floor and so terribly and utterly and unchangeably still.

I called the animal hospital and they gave me the name of the pet cemetery to call them to arrange a pick up. I was not going to try to take this dog to my car and drive her there all by myself, she weighed over 80 pounds in life and frankly I was just too sad to do it.

They came to take her and dispose of her for $209.28, including tax. I keep coming back to that number. I guess it provides a prism through which I can focus on the act of dying itself, on the sudden lack of the dog in our lives. I don't think it will make a good point to tell the girl child, but she has to be told something and I am leaning towards honesty here, to tell her that her friend is dead, too. She loved this dog and could say her name before she could say my father's name. Any suggestions about what to tell her?

I loved this dog. My parents got her from a rescue group. She had been abused but she found love in their house. And she died with someone who loved her sitting next to her and stroking her. Really, that doesn't sound too bad, does it? I think that this is what we all might want at the end if we are given the choice. This woman who was with her told me that the dog knew that she was dying and she kept looking out at the driveway because she was waiting for my parents to come home to be with her. But then she couldn't wait any longer and she sighed and went still.

$209.28 seems like not very much money to measure the worth to you of your friend when they're gone.

When the man arrived from the service, he put the dog into two plastic bags. Rigor had set in very quickly. I had to leave the room when it came time to put her head in the bag. I am finding it hard to write about it now, in fact. She was too heavy for one person to take. I helped carry her out to the truck and I lifted her very gently and the nice man was gentle, too. And then she was gone. A sweet and gentle animal, most of the time.

$209.28 is not much when your heart breaks a little as the plastic bag is closed and the door to the truck thunks shut and your friend is gone. It's amazing what a credit card will buy.

I'm going to go play with my children now. Writing about this did not, in fact, make me feel any better, as I had hoped it would. Instead, I feel the pressure of unshed tears.

Posted by: Random Penseur at 06:11 PM | Comments (11) | Add Comment
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Just a quick note, because I did receive some very kind wishes on behalf of my mother, but it looks like my mother is going to be released from the hospital today. That means I will have to leave work early today to go and fetch her home as my father is away from yesterday through tomorrow. So, I will most likely be out early.

She is pretty happy about it, not least of which because she is tired of listening to the woman across the hall, who is confused and old, continually moaning: "Jesus, help me, help me, Jesus, I need to go to the bathroom". That gets old fast. Especially since the nurses keep telling her that they can't take her to the bathroom since she can't walk, even with help. We're all going to get old one day, one hopes, but it ain't pretty. I try not to think about it, but I will for sure continue to hear this woman's raspy voice as she calls out to Jesus to help her for a long time. The only nice thing, is that the woman has fairly devoted children who come to see her all the time, according to my mother. It's nice that she's not forgotten.

Posted by: Random Penseur at 10:07 AM | Comments (3) | Add Comment
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When is the last time you sat down and wrote out a hand written thank you note? I bet, ever since you got that first hotmail account, that it's been awhile, hasn't it? I wrote one this week and received one this week and the experience was so unusual that it sort of stayed with me.

I had been invited to a thank you dinner by an acquaintance and I accepted and attended. This was last week. It was great fun. A stag night, as it turned out, full of bourbon, steak, and some very good dirty jokes and true (or so they claimed) stories. The details remain blurry and even if not I will intentionally obfuscate them here to protect the identities of the participants. Still, no arrests, no convictions, nothing broken. Our host also had a little gift for us -- a Waterman rollerball pen, very attractive. Totally unnecessary, of course, but very sweet of him anyway.

So, I dug out my old box of nice stationary we got from Crane's, a long time ago when we still lived in the City and having stationary with our initials on it seemed really important. It no longer seems so important now that we live in the suburbs with two children, but that may be a topic for another day. I uncapped this nice new pen and I luxuriated in the tactile sensation of pen moving over fine paper, paper with a high linen content. I wrote a nice little note and I mailed it off. I dusted my hands off and put fingers back to keyboard and wrote a little something to someone else. It wasn't the same at all.

The other thing I like about writing a real thank you note is that it takes a little time to be delivered. Email is practically immediate. You hit send and your little note gets there the same day, almost within the same 60 second period. If you write it the next day after the event or thing which eventuated the note in the first place, it just comes right away and that's that. Ah, but if you send it by mail, it might take a little bit longer. And it's usually a surprise when you receive it. And because it's been at least a day or two after the event, it has the effect of extending the nice feelings on the part of the recipient. He or she gets to open it, read your pleasant words, and re-live, a tiny bit, the glow that you felt when you wrote it. That's nice.

Even receiving the note is a tactile experience. It comes in a heavy envelope with a lining so when you pick it up it has substance and heft. It's been hand addressed, so you look at the handwriting for a moment as you try to puzzle out who wrote it. The paper used on the envelope feels rich and not at all mass produced, even if it is. You open it and it takes a little more effort because the glue used is superior or because it is harder to use the letter opener to cut through the unexpectedly thicker paper.

A handwritten thank you note is an event. Really, there ought to be a soundtrack.

Posted by: Random Penseur at 09:26 AM | Comments (5) | Add Comment
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I just sent my wife the following email:

Hey, I just realized that you married me for my body.

Her reply:

Of water?

Like I said, it's getting mighty cold in here.

Posted by: Random Penseur at 04:42 PM | Comments (3) | Add Comment
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I don't know many people who like going to hospitals, either for themselves or to visit others. I do not, certainly. I have had the leisure to reaquaint myself with my dislike of hospitals this weekend as I have spent the better part of each weekend day visiting my mother, who has been hospitalized with a serious infection in the bone of her foot. Bone infections are very bad. I think, and more importantly her doctors seem to think, that she is going to be just fine and that no surgery will be required to remove any of the bone. This is a relief.

The thing about hospitals is that they are a self-contained 24 hour a day universe, with rules and social conventions unto themselves. I think that the 24 hour thing, plus the odd casino type lighting used, is one reason why you leave a visit to a hospital totally exhausted. I just spent a couple of hours each day this weekend and I am kind of thrashed. Still, easier for me than it is for my mother.

It was funny, while I had to wait in the hallway for a few minutes, to watch one of the new interns flirt with a pretty young nurse. One of my cousins just finished his residency and he told me a lot of stories concerning the sexual hijinks everyone got up to at his hospital. I gather that is common.

Posted by: Random Penseur at 04:38 PM | Comments (6) | Add Comment
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I was sitting here listening to the live broadcast from WWOZ New Orleans (Jazz and Blues) when I heard the following song about, well, alternatives to pharmaceutical intervention for a man who finds himself with performance issues, and in the spirit of public mindedness, I thought I'd share the advice contained within the song title:

"If I can't cut the mustard, well, I can still lick around the jar."

Bill Coday

Hope this helps someone out there.

Posted by: Random Penseur at 04:34 PM | Comments (4) | Add Comment
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1 good advice.

Posted by: kbear at August 05, 2004 11:50 PM (IAJcf)

2 I'll be printing those up on posters and distributing them on all telephone poles. Important lesson for all men to learn, here...

Posted by: Helen at August 06, 2004 04:18 AM (StHmy)

3 I feel as if I have done a great public good in putting it here, but, posters? That is the next step, I suppose. If we get enough people involved, we'll have this problem licked, so to speak.

Posted by: RP at August 06, 2004 08:13 AM (LlPKh)

4 Okay, sometimes I'm a little slow. When I saw this yesterday I'd assumed "performance issues" referred to musical performance, and I had no idea what that quote meant. I guess I was just wrong-headed about it *ahem*.

Posted by: Tuning Spork at August 06, 2004 12:53 PM (X89ZI)

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I was reading this morning an article from the New Yorker online about the bombings in Madrid and found the following observation very interesting. It just sort of jumped off the page at me:

The case broke open in the middle of the night, when a young police officer, sorting through belongings recovered from the trains, opened a sports bag and discovered twenty-two pounds of Goma-2, surrounded by nails and screws. Two wires ran from a blue mobile phone to a detonator. It wasnÂ’t clear why the bomb had failed to explode.

Police officers realized that a chip inside the phone would contain a record of recently dialled numbers. By tracing these calls, they were quickly able to map out a network of young Arab immigrants, many of whom were known to Spanish intelligence. Data stored on the chip revealed that a calling plan had been set up at a small telephone and copy shop in Lavapiés, a working-class neighborhood near the Atocha station. The store was owned by Jamal Zougam, a Moroccan who had previously been under surveillance because of alleged connections to Al Qaeda. He was soon arrested.

I recommend going to read the whole article. It deals extensively with the political developments and consequences that the Jihadi movement expected would eventuate from a bombing in Madrid near the election. We have to ask ourselves what will happen here closer to November. Of course, I suppose that even if there is a bombing here, nothing would change for the US in terms of policy. There is no choice here between socialists and right wingers as there was in Spain.

The article is chilling.

Posted by: Random Penseur at 10:08 AM | Comments (1) | Add Comment
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A comment left by Ensie got me to thinking about Costco. Ensie, in commenting on my first post about Costco, said:

Actually, the Costco "Executive Membership" involves a cash back feature. I just signed up for my first Costco membership last week and had to tell three Costco employees, "NO, I DO NOT WANT TO UPGRADE. PLEASE STOP ASKING ME!" You're absolutely right that you won't save any money, unless you're spending millions at Costco each year. Which is pretty unlikely.

This got me to thinking about the actual impact of membership fees on Costco's revenue stream, so I followed the link I posted before back to their annual report for fiscal year 2002, and I poked around a bit. Annual reports can be fascinating reading and this one was no different.

First of all, membership has been growing for Costco at something like 2 million members a year at the most basic level. Sales increased 11%, to $38 billion, and earnings increased 16%, to $700 million, during FY2002. Those are some pretty big numbers and it is clear that membership statistics are an important component of earnings for Costco because they break out the membership fees as a separate item on their revenue breakdowns.

Executive members make up 1.75 million of their membership base. These people pay $100 for access to all sorts of useless stuff. Do the math, that's $175 million in fees alone each year for access to the right to spend more money on services. That is a hefty portion of the net earnings of 700 million right there (I have no way to subtract out the costs they attribute to executive level membership so I attribute none and that's probably artificial and wrong). There is a cash back feature of 2% of your purchases. But as Ensie points out, you have to spend a lot. How much? Well, you are limited, according to the report, to a maximum refund of $500. $500 is 2% of $25,000*. That's right, to get the max payback you'd have to shell out $25,000 yearly. And then they'd cut you off.

Costco had total revenue of $38,762,499 (that's billion) of which membership fees accounted for $769,406 (million). There was an increase from FY2001 of 17%, which is partially attributable to an increase in membership fees. The membership fees generally are 2.03% of sales. So, I was right to say that there must be some cost they assign to the membership fees, even if I can't find it. I mean, it stands to reason right? If membership fees accounted for $769,406 (million) and there were net earnings of $700 million, then clearly not all of the membership fees are straight profit. There must be some cost associated with the membership fees, like the salary for employees who do the sign ups, or the cost of printing up the cards, or other things I can't think of. They must lump it in under "selling, general, administrative" expenses which, for FY2002 was a hefty $3,575,536 (billion), but they don't seem to break it out enough for us to see what the membership program costs them, although they do note that this includes salary, health insurance and workers comp. Of course, they also don't break out how much more the executive level membership class pays for goods and services over the basic level, so we can't figure out if the class has a greater impact on the bottom line beyond simply the expanded fee.

So, what's the upshot? Well, seems to me that membership fee income is very important to Costco, which explains why that guy was soliciting people in line to upgrade, and that Ensie was right, you have to spend a lot of money to make any program like this worthwhile.

Oh, and Helen, the annual report claims to have had three openings in England. Looks like there could be a 20 gallon of jiffy in your future after all.

Let me add a small disclaimer, because while it seems obvious, you never know: nothing herein should be considered investment advice or a recommendation to purchase or sell securities. I am not qualified to make investment recommendations and I ain't doing so here. If you're taking investment advice from me, you're worse off than you might think!

*Math mistake caught by Mick. Thanks, Mick!

Posted by: Random Penseur at 09:36 AM | Comments (13) | Add Comment
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1 Dang. I was just about to call my broker until I read that last line. ;-)

Posted by: Jim at August 04, 2004 10:05 AM (IOwam)

2 Phew! That was a close one, Jim. I'm glad I put that disclaimer in!

Posted by: rp at August 04, 2004 10:09 AM (LlPKh)

3 *ahem* I've been going to Costco for what must be ten years by now. For the first 8 years, I paid $45 every year for the privilege of shopping in bulk and getting good deals on various items. But for the last two years, we've been excecutive members. I now get a check once a year between $50-$100, depending on how much we spent that year. Regular membership: $45.00 Executive membership: $100.00 As you can see, if I get a check for *anything* above the $45.00 I pay anyway, I've saved on my annual membership fee. So I end up either getting my entire yearly membership paid for, if I get back $100, or at least I get my fee partially paid for. Before, I was just out the $45.00 every year. Plus, Executive membership hours are different. I can get in and shop before the vast unwashed hordes (read: you regular card holders *g*) are allowed to sully the premises. ;-P So, it completely depends on how much you spend a year at Costco as to whether or not it would make sense for a family to get the Exec card or not. Obviously, if you don't spend several thousand a year there, it doesn't make sense. We buy: all our paper products, including office products, all meat, bread, olive oil, soda, beer, fresh vegetables, DVDs, most Christmas gifts, wrapping paper, tuna, pasta, detergent, milk products, towels, socks, sheets, pharmaceuticals, outdoor furniture, appliances, books, etc., etc., at Costco whenever possible. Oh, and gas for our two gas-guzzling cars, which is much cheaper than anywhere else. FYI: did you know that the prices for meds at Costco are cheaper than most medical insurance companies have to offer? So, before you write off the Exec card, make sure you don't buy enough anually to make it a pretty good idea. :-)

Posted by: Amber at August 04, 2004 01:54 PM (zQE5D)

4 That's a great analysis, Amber, however, I don't agree with you that all you have to earn back is the $45. You're out the $45 regardless. Now, you're out an additional $55. To earn back that $100 fee you just spent to get that card, you'd have to spend $5,000 a year there, or $416 a month. That is probably a trip there almost every week. We don't have gas available at the ones near us in NY, which would help push that total up and are, perhaps, not as committed as you are in shopping there. For instance, I don't really care for the meat they sell and we find a much broader range of beverage options at our local supermarket. For someone like you, it probably makes a lot of sense. For someone who shops there the way I do, it probably doesn't. Thanks for taking the time to leave such a detailed comment.

Posted by: RP at August 04, 2004 02:12 PM (LlPKh)

5 $500 is 2% of $25,000. But it's still an outrageous amount of money to spend there, even if you're a business owner.

Posted by: Mick at August 04, 2004 03:21 PM (VhRca)

6 Thanks, Mick. I corrected it on the post itself, giving you credit!

Posted by: RP at August 04, 2004 03:49 PM (LlPKh)

7 I hear you, Random. :-) Like I said, if you don't go a LOT, it doesn't make sense. Btw, we don't go every week; we go once a month, it's a pill of a trip *grins* and we don't like doing it, but the prices are so good, we just can't pass it up. Btw, just to clarify for anyone reading and thinking of joining, the check can be used ONLY at Costco; it's not cash in your pocket. Also, Costco gasoline does NOT count towards the total; only merchandise from the store. The 1st year we paid the $100 *total* annual fee, there are no more fees than that, that's it. We received a check at the end of that year for $57.17 towards our next Costco trip. So that year, we ended up paying $42.83 total for our dues. A savings of $2.17 But the 2nd year we made a bigger effort to go strictly to Costco. We received $93.47 towards our next Costco trip a the end of that year. So we paid $6.53 in total dues for that year. So, instead of spending $90 in membership dues over the past two years we've only spent $49.36 for two years. That's why we do it. :-) However, we're probably in the minority. A lot of people don't go enough to make a difference, so you're right; in that case, they'd be out the extra money for nothing. And that's what they are hoping for, of course. Like gyms who hope you join and then "forget" to go. :-)

Posted by: Amber at August 04, 2004 07:48 PM (zQE5D)

8 You're on the right track with that one, Amber. It's like mail-in rebates: the manufacturers count on most people not sending in the rebates. A very low percentage of customers actually do. That's depressing, because most of us only buy certain products because they come with a mail-in rebate. Personally, I go to Sam's Club. I signed the company up for a business membership, they give me and the owner's wife free cards and the employees can purchase two cards each for $30. They don't have the same variety Costco does but they don't have the same lines either. Regardless, I can still buy 3 months worth of toilet paper and enough paper towels to wallpaper my house. *smiles*

Posted by: Mick at August 04, 2004 11:41 PM (C1v6m)

9 Regular membership: $45.00 Executive membership: $100.00 20 gallon jar of Jiffy: Priceless.

Posted by: Helen at August 05, 2004 04:45 AM (UU5+s)

10 Just for your information, I spoke with a Costco service representative and she noted that gasoline purchases and cigarette purchases do not count towards the Executive membership rebate calculation.

Posted by: Ernie at February 12, 2005 10:52 PM (ZCUrE)

11 Up here in Canada, Costco has not yet invented a way to ask you just once if you would like to be an executive member (I don't). The assistant manager told me that perhaps by next year they'll work out a way not to give you the high pressure treatment every time you set foot in the store. Any innovative ideas out there on how to fight this garbage?

Posted by: zack at April 09, 2005 11:03 PM (IIppg)

12 Just got the Costco check in the mail. Only it's NO LONGER A CHECK! It's a coupon now! It can't even been used towards next year's membership payment! (sorry for the exclamation points, but this is just wrong) Actually, there are several things the "check" cannot be used for when shopping at Costco. What a joke. I tbink the Consumer Rights Agencies need to be contacted. To enlist members under the guise of a 2% cashback rebate and then change the terms is bait and switch, it's also fraud. The proper slogan for Costco to use, in my opinion, would be "2% coupon back on all purchases". Lol, somehow doesn't have the same ring. By the way, one additional shoppig "privilege" of the executive membership card is you can shop earlier in the day and avoid the longer lines. But without actually getting the cash back feature, this card is now a joke and I'll probably cancel my executive membership.

Posted by: A. A. at May 26, 2005 01:15 PM (Xp4ia)

13 Maybe I don't know what I'm talking about! Just talked to someone from Costco who says the executive program hasn't changed at all. As long as the check can be used towards renewal, I'll be satisfied.

Posted by: A.A. at May 26, 2005 01:30 PM (Xp4ia)

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I was packed off to Costco by my wife yesterday, while the children were napping, in order to replenish supplies. It was pretty crowded and I had a little time to look around. Here are some of the random observations that stuck with me.

*I am surprised by the number of luxury cars in the parking lot. I shouldn't be, really. Their average "ring" at the cash register is over several hundred dollars. Their most recent available annual report (pdf file) is actually really interesting reading and I was particularly interested to see how rapidly they have grown.

*Part of that growth has to come from idiots who accept the solicitation to upgrade their memberships from the base level, ours, to the executive level, more expensive but with some kind of discount attached. I was standing in line to pay and some guy came over and said, "how'd you like to save some money today because I can help you do that". I was instantly put in mind of Guys and Dolls. I felt like if I told him I was interested in him saving me money, I'd be like Marlon Brando saying, "Daddy, I've got cider in my ear". But it's such an effective sales technique. What are you going to say, "no, I don't want to save any money". But really, it seems clear that you are not going to save any money.

*I walked out behind two obese men in tight shorts which pushed at their bodies in such a way as to cause bulges where there shouldn't have been. The bulges were easy to look at because they were wearing these sleeveless t-shirts with huge arm holes so just about everything could hang out the sides. They were perspiring profusely and I felt it was a gift to humanity at large that these two gentlemen had included within their shopping the generous economy packages of Irish Spring bath soap -- 12 bars, I had time to count the bars as I was trapped behind them.

*Free samples will attract hordes like flies on a horse. If you have any hope of moving quickly through the crowds, plan your foray to avoid the sample stands. I actually got close enough to ask one unhappy sample lady what was an offer at her table and she told me to look at the sign. I asked, what sign and she said it was on the front of the table. It would have been quicker for her just to say pork but maybe she was just doing her part to demonstrate the importance of adult literacy. Or maybe not.

Posted by: Random Penseur at 08:55 AM | Comments (4) | Add Comment
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I was reflecting on summer this weekend. It was, by the way, a glorious Saturday. We had some friends come out from the City and we whisked them away to the beach and the kiddie pool. The weather was perfect, the rum punch from the bar was sublime, the water was warm and free from jellyfish, the children made sand castles and hunted for the prettiest mussel shells, and the young women in their bikinis were as attractive as they were unattainable. Actually, the young women made me feel tired just by looking at them -- that's how I know I am getting old, they are no longer objects of desire! It was really as close to a perfect day as I have passed this summer.

But it got me to thinking about childhood summers past and those summers past included, without fail, a trip to one of the last old fashioned soda fountains in the county. It was in a pharmacy on Main Street and it was a long gleaming counter with round stools which spun around. It was always cool in there without being cold. And there were polished chrome things everywhere you looked behind the counter. I would order the same thing every time -- the root beer float, perhaps one of the most felicitous combinations every dreamt up, even better than peanut butter and chocolate. By the time I was old enough to go there, there was no soda jerk anymore, just the elderly pharmacist. He would come over and take our orders. Then I would watch him squirt the syrup into the glass and mix it with soda water. The ice cream would come next and I'd get a long spoon and a straw. The glass itself was tall and fit into a special metal glass holder contraption and the condensation would bead on the glass and the metal would get very cold. It was special because I went with my father, just him and me and because the making of the float seemed to be conducted with such special ceremony in a hushed place.

The pharmacy closed eventually, I don't remember when exactly. But I do miss it still. I'd like to take my children to one. If I hit the road with them, I'll see if I can swing by any of these recommendations. Or, if I get to Kansas, they have a statewide list.

Posted by: Random Penseur at 08:35 AM | Comments (2) | Add Comment
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Everybody does one of these posts, sooner or later, and I think it's my turn now. Here are some of the odd things people have searched for and found me with:

*"how to know the names of buddies"

*"spanked tushies" (this was all caps)

*"stealing gas"

*"watch my wife"

*"random funny things"

*"picture of 80 s power suits"

*"flamingo dolls"

Aren't you just a little bit curious about some of the people who performed these searches? Watch my wife? Do what?

Posted by: Random Penseur at 04:23 PM | Comments (2) | Add Comment
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Thanks to Black Five, I read the following account by a journalist/photographer of his time in combat in Iraq with the US Marines. It is a gripping read. One thing jumped off the page at me, though:

At this time, another Marine who had rushed out to a second floor balcony moments earlier yelled, "I'm hit." One of several thousands of rounds fired in the opening 30 minutes of the battle had found its target. He gave an agonizing scream and yelled again that he was hit, hoping someone would rescue him.

Sgt. Nunez threw open the door and rushed out, returning moments later dragging Sgt. Magana across the floor by the grab handle on the back of his flak jacket. Confusion ensued. He was eventually dragged into the room where I was hunkered down. He had been shot through the back and was in severe pain.

While corpsman were concentrating on his injury, I could see that he was beginning to fade. His eyes were empty and began to close. He was mumbling about a letter from his daughter and I'm sure he began to concede that his life could end right there on the floor.

I was compelled to grab his hand and assured him that he would see his daughter once again. I looked him straight in his eye, telling him to look back at me, then squeeze my hand so I knew he was still with me. It was all I knew to do.

I felt caught between being an objective journalist and responding as a human being. I apologized to a news crew that was sharing this horror with , "I have to be a human first," I heard myself saying awkwardly. It was a lesson I had learned early on from a photo professor that had a profound effect on my life.

I shot only a few frames to depict the scene; some right as he was being dragged into the room and then some after he began to stabilize. I felt satisfied that I had both done my job and also done what was right in a potentially life and death situation.

What is wrong with a profession in which you have to feel ashamed to act like a human being? To feel ashamed when you offer comfort to a dying man who is asking about his child as he dies? When did the practice of journalism become so morally bereft and debased?

Posted by: Random Penseur at 10:26 AM | Comments (6) | Add Comment
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Jeff Smith, a.k.a the Frugal Gourmet, died almost 2 weeks ago and I didn't notice (Seattle Times obit) Shame on me. Do you all remember him? He had this great cooking show and put out a couple of cookbooks I still like to this day. Here are some of his recipes on the net. He came off the air after allegations surfaced concerning his inappropriate sexual contacts with some young boys. Never proven, mind you, just alleged. But that was enough to get him off the air.

I really liked his show. He may have been a little less nice and approachable in person, though:

He made his name and his money on television and in print selling an image as a man of god, warm and generous and the very model of moral superiority. In my one telephonic encounter, though, he all but told me to go Cheney myself, Madam. Thanks to a starstruck editor in the mid-Eighties, I had to approach him for a recipe for a magazine story and it was if I had dialed Tourette’s Central. Suffice it to say he did not end the conversation with “I bid you peace.”

Anyway, Rest in Peace, Minister Smith.

This kind of got me thinking about the other cooking show I used to really like. Anyone else remember Justin Wilson? He is also dead, unfortunately, but was a fascinating man (obit and here), and boy, could he cook.

UPDATE:

No, they are both still dead, as is Generalissimo Francisco Franco. The reason for the update is that the second page for the Justin Wilson obit has this great link to listen over the web to the New Orleans Jazz and Heritage music broadcasts. I am thinking the day is looking up!

Posted by: Random Penseur at 11:35 AM | Comments (8) | Add Comment
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If my wife is reading this, I think I found what I'd like as an early birthday present: my very own air craft carrier.

Posted by: Random Penseur at 10:20 AM | Comments (2) | Add Comment
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I am not feeling very inspired yet, so I will favor you with a random observation I made while walking to the office this morning. Large patterned tight pants on a woman who may be carrying a few pounds extra may not be the most flattering choice she could make for herself. It also got me thinking, what are some of the fashion mistakes of yore which have happily died out, to be missed by no one but nostalgia fans? I will give you a couple and be curious to see what you add.

*leg warmers
*stretch pants
*lycra everywhere (as a young gay man once said to me as he passed me just after passing a very large woman in lycra shorts, "lycra is a privilege, not a right)
*head bands (picture O. Newton-John in the "Let's get physical" video)
*vests everywhere

What else?

Posted by: Random Penseur at 09:45 AM | Comments (15) | Add Comment
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I almost never drink at lunch. It tends to make me sleepy in the afternoon and besides which I am not being paid to drink at lunch. However, I feel that the only mistake I may have made at lunch today was having only one glass of wine instead of two. The wine and a good lunch have cheered me up immensely. How much, you may wonder? Well, let me share with you the post I drafted this morning and I decided not to put up:

* * *

I am in a truly foul mood today. The kind of mood which gives NY'ers a bad reputation among our fellow citizens. The kind of mood which suggests that my last rabies shot just did not take. It is a little shy of being undirected rage looking for an object. I have little to no tolerance or patience today. That is the mood that propelled me up the train platform and into the office today.

When I got to work, I got a call from my wife. She is back safely from Germany. The job she had interviewed for several times went to someone else. She is disappointed but seems to be dealing with it better right now than I am. I think that is because I feel horrible for her, for us, and then I try to imagine how she's feeling and how I'd be feeling in her spot and it just starts all over again. And I feel like I lack any ability to give her comfort, to make it all right, to kiss this boo-boo and make it better. I hate feeling helpless.

Combine all that with the foulness of the temper I am already enjoying and it feels sort of volatile. I can feel the tightness physically in my hands and in the set of my jaw. It is a pugnacious feeling.

Now, I just got off the phone with a client who has broken yet another appointment with me. He's facing something like $18 million in liability over a busted commercial real estate project and I think he lacks a firm footing in reality. I have no idea how I am going to represent him if he keeps blowing me off.

I need more sleep or a vacation.

* * *

Or I needed to self-medicate with a nice lunch, good company, and a glass of wine. There may be a lesson in there with universal application.

Posted by: Random Penseur at 02:02 PM | Comments (3) | Add Comment
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1 May I be the first to sign up for the class when you end up presenting the seminar? Next time I have a foul day such as yours, I will strive to turn it around. Could you tell me what wine you were drinking? ;-)

Posted by: Wicked H at July 22, 2004 06:09 PM (7TrL0)

2 Longer lunches and more wine...that's what this country really needs! Hey, let's get a bill passed...

Posted by: Mick at July 22, 2004 10:26 PM (0HJs1)

3 I had a very ordinary tipple of Sauvingon Blanc, which I like very much because of the floral notes and the grapefruit taste. Very refreshing. But what y'all cannot forget is the critical element of good company. Fellowship plus wine may equal happiness. I'd love to host a seminar.

Posted by: RP at July 23, 2004 10:31 AM (LlPKh)

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I am not a television news type. I am a throwback (which is not the same as a toss-back, thank you very much). I get my news by getting my hands smeared with news print or by clicking through the web. I may have to reconsider, especially if it means I am missing moments like this with "Shepard Smith, the clean-shorn host of the No. 1–rated Fox Report":

But it was on the set of The Fox Report in November 2002 that Mr. Smith became infamous among cable news watchers for his gaffe involving Jennifer Lopez. In a story about her hit song "Jenny From the Block" and the reaction it was getting from her childhood neighborhood in the Bronx, Mr. Smith was prompted to read that they were more likely to "give her a curb job than a block party."

But it turned out to be a real mouthful, and the hapless anchor instead read that J. LoÂ’s neighbors were more likely to "give her a curb job than a blowjob."

Now that's great television.

Source.

Posted by: Random Penseur at 09:04 AM | Comments (2) | Add Comment
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Either you are going to intuitively understand this post deep down inside, like you could have written it yourself, or you just ain't never gonna get it.

We accumulate things, my wife and I. Well, maybe me more than my wife. In any event, we don't throw out a whole lot of stuff. This urge to preserve spans whole categories of items and I don't intend to address the range of pathologies. No, I'm going to limit myself to the kitchen.

By the way, in case you were wondering, I blame my parents for this. Ok, no, not really. But they have gently aided and abetted by only recently starting to inquire when I was going to drive the ten miles over to their house and clean out my childhood room. They are kind and understanding for the most part and also quite accomplished little clutter bugs themselves so the pressure has been gentle thus far. But notice has been given and since I really did move out when I left for college, it's about time I boxed up the old high school yearbooks and other momentos. Pardon the digression, back to the kitchen.

We keep stuff in our cabinets that we treat like national treasures. Old cans of coffee, bottles of hot sauce from vacations, weird spices, stuff picked up on sale, etc. You never know when you are going to see that jar of capers packed in salt again, so you buy it and you keep it. You might want to bake chocolate chip cookies at odd hours when the market is closed and you need to make sure you have every possible ingredient for said cookie. You also never know when you might need that odd tin of Norwegian "horn salt". I actually have no idea what horn salt is, why we have it, what you use it for, when we got it, and I have never seen my wife use it. But it has faithfully followed us for our last two moves. We have this spectacular "piri piri" sauce we bought in Portugal (ten years ago!) and a great collection of Guatemalen hot sauces. I think we still have a jar of prickly pear jam we bought on our honeymoon, lo these many moons ago.

Part of the problem stems from the fact that we like to go to supermarkets when we travel. Foreign supermarkets are huge fun and I think are just as culturally enriching an experience as visiting a museum. You see stuff you've never imagined before, you get a glimpse of how the other people really live (nothing tells you more about a society than its selection of toilet paper), and you can buy inexpensive and unusual gifts and souvenirs.

So, we cart this stuff home and we put it in the cupboards. And there it sits. Never to be used. Why? Because it cannot be replaced once we open it, I suppose. Or because we never intended to open it? Or because while we still have that bottle of Hungarian brandy we still have a tangible connection to that trip. Beats me. Maybe we just like to have lots of stuff.

So, that coffee can I titled this post with was a can of Cafe du Monde strong as heck coffee we brought from New Orleans. Here is an interesting link about coffee in New Orleans. We had run out of the good, freshly ground stuff and were in a desperate place. I opened the pantry cabinets and there sat the can of Cafe du Monde. And I realized, the memory that can represented needed to be sacrificed on the alter of our coffee emergency. You know what? It wasn't so bad and I don't think I'll even miss having the can as much as I will treasure the new memory of that can stepping up to the plate (er, coffee maker) in our hour of need.

Besides, I can now buy another yellow can to put in its place, if I am so inclined.

My wife is leaving today on a business trip to Germany and I am going to take the opportunity afforded by her absence to ruthlessly cull our cabinets. I'm not actually going to throw anything away (that would be mean), but I'm going to put all this stuff in boxes and let her decide if we should keep it. Who knows, maybe we'll even get some stuff off the counters! Or maybe we'll just create more room for more stuff.

Posted by: Random Penseur at 09:09 AM | Comments (4) | Add Comment
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