With the Scenery Flying By

Saturday morning, Pete and I climbed the long flight of concrete stairs to the train platform and walked a long way to an empty space against the wall. I heard an accordian and took the camera out of my bookbag. “Pete,” I said, “it is totally crucial that you take a picture because nobody believes that everywhere I go there’s theme music. If we’re very lucky, you’ll also capture the back up dancers.” Of course, you may be inclined to say, “Ta darling, those are people having their own lives. Your presence is a coincidence. Stop being so Center Of the Universe about it.” Shaaaa. Have you met me?

This is the only picture Pete took all day of something that wasn’t moving so obviously that’s the one out of focus. But it is important! All hail the bowl of Veselka’s borscht, the bowl of soup so sublime it must be experienced to be believed, and no shimmering verbiage approaches its epic yumminess. The ordinary bowl cannot contain it! The challah must sop its brothy goodness. Behold the borscht – and know that when you stare into the borscht, it stares into you!

The coffee was also pretty good.

The Bad Times Are Clean Washed

On the advice of the physical therapist, I started slowly.

Wednesday, I Pete drove me to work and I walked home. My steps were smooth and even. I had no pain to speak of, and I climbed the long, steep hill into town with surprising ease. This small triumph inspired a new goal; today I walked to and from work. This morning, sunlight bathed the streets in ways I’d never noticed before. Not far from my house, I turned back to look for cars and saw rays of light form a huge, coursing stream coming straight at me. I half-heartedly fumbled for the camera, knowing I’m not the kind of photographer who could capture that. I’m not much of a photographer at all. When I took this picture of dew on the lawn in front of Johnson & Johnson’s Interplanetary Headquarters, I knew it was silly, and naive, and cliched, but I couldn’t not do it. I could not contain my joy.

But Really, I’m Not Actually Your Friend

The physically delicate older gentleman seated eight feet behind me in my office at the unnamed university has been experiencing gastic dismay on a daily basis. At 1:30 each afternoon, I email Lupe.

Tata: PU! Again! It can’t be a surprise. Why doesn’t he Beano so there’ll be no gas?
Lupe: I can’t breathe!
Tata: YOU can’t breathe?! Ellen just walked by, and in accordance with Smelt It vs. Dealt It, she didn’t look at me but plainly thinks I have the stomach funk!
Lupe: You’re killing me!
Tata: Do you know how much havoc I could wreak in the library with a cigarette lighter right now?

I hate to kick a sick guy when he’s down, but after a week and a half of sitting in someone else’s toxic cloud I’ve had enough. And when I say that, I live downwind of a garbage dump visible from space, and I’ve had enough! Today, I brought in a Glade air freshener so my office doesn’t smell like farts, it smells like apples, cinnamon and farts.

Tomorrow, I’m spraying him with Oust.

To Get Back Home Sleep Pretty

Outside, we have fog and mist this morning. My hair is angry and rebels against the bond of the ponytail holder. A barrette gave up long ago. It writes when it can but its letters are filled with regret.

Last night, we shopped for groceries while outside a downpour carved new paths in tentative landscapes to the creeks and down to the river. We brought in our grocery bags as lightning flashed and thunder rumbled distantly. Soon after, the downpour turned torrential, so we counted ourselves lucky to be home and snug indoors. I examined the register tape like tea leaves for portents of success or failure. It was only then I noticed I’d forgotten, alas, orange juice.

The News I Need From the Weather Report

Outside, the day is bright, clear and warm. The avenue has been by turns thronged and empty. Decorative pear trees began today to shed their blossoms, so everywhere fragrant petals drift through open doors. Fortunately, last night, the family stores cleaned their carpets. Some people who resemble my sisters are going to have conniptions tomorrow.

The sunlight on my skin feels like my reward for surviving the winter. Last night, I told Pete that when one day I can’t climb stairs anymore I want the stair lift to play the Bewitched! theme. Today, sunlight alone makes me blissfully happy.

Sina Mali, Sina Deni

Sometimes, you watch and listen for a very long time, then suddenly you know how to fix exactly what’s wrong, and how to do it. Watch this:

…the Obama administration is shaping up to be robot-friendly. Secretary of Defense Robert Gates released yesterday his proposed cuts to a variety of military technology programs, and it looks like good news for unmanned systems.

While some high-profile programs like the F-22 Raptor are being scaled back, and the manned vehicles that are part of the Army’s Future Combat Systems program are going to be re-bid, Gates specifically left funding for “robotic sensors” and unmanned vehicles like the Predator. He also suggested increasing the initial fleet of Littoral Combat Ships – the LCS is designed to carry a number of mission modules to be deployed in the littoral area of the ocean (relatively shallow water, near shore, where most mines are deployed), and among those modules are AUV systems.

Okay okay okay, now take this trip down Recent Memory Lane:

This is an ingredient-driven outbreak; that is, potentially contaminated ingredients affected many different products that were distributed through various channels and consumed in various settings. The recalled products made by PCA, such as peanut butter and peanut paste, are common ingredients in cookies, crackers, cereal, candy, ice cream, pet treats, and other foods. Consumers are advised to discard and not eat products that have been recalled. To help consumers identify affected products, FDA has initiated a searchable database of recalled products that is updated daily or as additional recalls are identified. To date, more than 2,100 products in 17 categories have been voluntarily recalled by more than 200 companies, and the list continues to grow.

In January, the recall list was expanded to include some pet-food products that contain peanut paste made by PCA. Salmonella can affect animals, and humans who handle contaminated pet-food products also are at risk. It is important for people to wash their hands – and to make sure children wash their hands – with hot water and soap before and, especially, after handling pet-food products and utensils.

Any management consultant will tell you you should never tailor a job to the employee, and I fear we’ve tailored our governing to the governors. No, no, no. Maybe that worked during the cold war, but after a while everything gets stuffy and our needs as a people and employers have changed. So here is my brilliant idea: let’s put the American Wehrmacht in the hands of the scientists, social workers and bureaucrats. What? you ask. Isn’t it? It is not. Obviously, underfunded environmental nerds will wage eco-friendly war, when they’re done eating their free-range tofu pops, and social workers know how to wring $1.50 out of a buck. They’re old hands with compassion and bake sales. This, I truly believe, is the way to wage war: cheaply or not at all. Scientists are used to having their funding yanked the moment they discover something promising, which would really motivate them to either commit genocide economically or force them to quit it and invent something useful. And that would be good for everyone.

The really brilliant part of my brilliant plan: put the Pentagon in change of Healthcare, the EPA and Education. The generals have proven they can deliver – um – something. We need little children trained to read? Send in the Army Corps of Engineers. Those children will be reading in no time. We need healthcare for everyone, shore to shore, in America? Dude, who sees the big picture like the Pentagon! What do we need like a global war on polluters? The Pentagon has proven it can handle the gazillions of dollars we’re dumping into it at a rate that year after year exceeds the military budgets of the whole rest of the planet combined. Let the Pentagon keep its literally unimaginably ginormous budget and give us what we as employers really need: laser-like focus. Think of it: Pentagon hospitals, nursing homes, organic co-ops and animal shelters. Suddenly mission creep might mean sexay-sexay expanded Social Security, Unemployment and Welfare. I’m telling you it’s a match made in Heaven, and it would be brilliantly good for everyone.

I’d Be Running Up That Hill

NEW JERSEY (AP) – Local woman Tata LongItalianName had nothing to say Monday night in what friends, relatives and acquaintances declared was a near miracle.

“Holy crap! Pour some adult beverages and put an APB out on missing bass players!” exclaimed Siobhan Pseudonym, a long-time “associate” of Ms. LongItalianName. “Those bass players didn’t just get up and walk away!”

“My sister Domenica? Has nothing to say? Was she conscious?” asked Daria MarriedSomeDude. “Was she eating – because sometimes that’s the only way to tell.”

Ms. LongItalianName touched up paint in the attic, worked on website construction and scratched her three cats for two hours Monday night without uttering a word. Those who’ve known her longest expressed surprise.

“She what?” asked Kim LongItalianName, Tata’s mother. “Hallelujah!”

Ms. Pseudonym hurried to assure the public there was no cause for concern. “She can’t help herself. She’ll be complaining again by breakfasttime.”

Out With An Honest Tongue Now

If there’s anything amusing about New Year’s it’s the phone calls.

Siobhan: GUESS WHERE I AM!
Tata: Saskatoon?
Siobhan: DAD CAME OFF THE VENTILATOR TODAY AND SAID I SHOULD GO TO THE PARTY. I’VE BEEN DRINKING SINCE 5:30!
Tata: That’s great news! You should hang up and I’ll leave a message with instructions for how to hide a body and elude capture. Which you will need tomorrow.
Siobhan: THANKS! I CAN ALWAYS COUNT ON YOU! HAPPY NEW YEAR!
Tata: Have your lawyer call me at home – just like last time. Happy New Year!

The phone – jeez, the phone! Daria’s house is 15 miles west of mine. We should have walkie talkies.

Tata: A light snow is falling here so I called to hear about your frozen monsoon.
Tyler: It’s sunny here. At least I think it is. Do you want to speak to your sister?
Tata: Nah. The storm is coming from the north so it’s going to blizzard where you are any minute now.
Tyler: Really?
Tata: Yup. Tell her to call me back in ten minutes so I can mock her high-heeled snow shoes.

I may need one of those head sets that usually tells me someone’s a colossal dick.

Daria: Darla’s coming in tonight. I’m standing in a liquor store. She wants a box of wine.
Tata: Get the pink stuff. She likes it and it goes with your downstairs bathroom.

Skywriting? Bat signal?

Daria: Todd called an hour ago. He and Bette went to the Hentons’ for New Year’s. He said they invited Todd and Bette for spaghetti and meatballs. I said, “Spaghetti and meatballs? That’s not New Year’s food.”
Tata: That’s Tuesday food.
Daria: I mean, what’s that? Spaghetti and meatballs. Last night, we had sushi and three kinds of fondue. It’s a party. You might eat spaghetti and meatballs on New Year’s Day to nurse your hangover maybe.
Tata: Yeah, but only if the meatballs are quiet.

If everyone’s this interesting I might quit hanging up randomly.
Sharkey: Hello?
Tata: The number you have dialed is out of order.
Sharkey: I know it’s you. 
Tata: Press 1 for English, press 2 for Pig Latin…