Let the Roll Call Begin

The roll-call for the Democratic presidential nominee just began at 5:50pm EDT. I wonder how many states will need to report before the necessary 2,210 are met for my man, Barack.

What?

I always understood one of the unspoken rules of journalism to be that an article's title should give you some idea of the story while catching your attention. The following Reuters headline certainly caught my attention but does it make any sense? Your thoughts, please, as to what it means before you read the article.

Hantuchova Swept Aside By Big - Serving Groenfeld

Okay, but what does the graphic mean?

Not helpful!

No kidding - I'd love to try this in person

From this week's New Yorker magazine. Yet again, I've missed my true calling when it comes to Olympic opportunity. (No bad skin, though, and I stopped biting my nails a long time ago - please tell Hayes.)

Graphic onscreen: Twenty-two minutes until John Kenney.

We see John Kenney in his office cubicle, listening to an iPod and looking really closely at the tip of a pencil.

AL TRAUTWIG: Twenty-two minutes now until we see John Kenney try to medal in the elusive sport of bi-monthly-status-meeting commenting. First time for this event, and one that’s unfamiliar to some of our viewers. Mary Carillo, you competed briefly in this event. What should we look for?

MARY CARILLO: Al, this is an event dominated by the Dutch, the Swiss, and, to a great extent, the North Koreans. These are active participants in bi-monthly status meetings, people who really prepare, whereas Americans— new to the sport—tend to be far more lethargic, taking it more as a pastime than as something to really prepare for.

A.T.: John Kenney.

M.C.: Indeed. Kenney has a unique approach to the sport. He appears, at first, almost completely ignorant of what’s happening in a meeting, often looking around with a puzzled expression.

A.T.: A cat-and-mouse game.

M.C.: No. He genuinely has no idea what’s going on.

A.T.: How does he catch up?

M.C.: He might borrow the minutes of the last meeting from whomever he’s sitting next to or even whisper to his neighbor, asking something like “What’s happening? Who’s this Phil guy?”

A.T.: He never attended college.

M.C.: No, not even close. And that’s the remarkable thing. He’s able to glom on to something someone said and repeat it as if it were his own thought.

A.T.: As only a true Olympian can. Mary Carillo spoke with the two women who spurred John Kenney on to meeting greatness.

A montage of photographs of John Kenney as a baby, a child, a teen-ager. In every one, he’s sitting at a conference table. In one photo, age four, he appears to be pointing to a staffing chart. During this montage, we hear the voices of two women.

MOTHER: The first words out of his mouth—

SISTER: I’ll never forget this—

MOTHER: His first words were “I’d like to speak to Ted’s earlier point on the Q1 numbers.”

We now see John’s mother and his sister, speaking to Mary Carillo.

MOTHER: We knew he was special.

SISTER: And very different.

A montage of John and his mother and sister eating unusually large waffles, playing cards, and playing miniature golf. Throughout, we hear Mary Carillo.

M.C.: John never knew his father, an out-of-work freelance U-boat captain. His mother had to make ends meet on her salary as the senior vice-president of global marketing at Brown Brothers Harriman. But, always, John loved meetings. So much so that one Christmas he asked only for a conference table, easels, and an overhead projector.

MOTHER: We never even knew that meetings were an Olympic event. But that’s when John met his social-studies teacher, Mr. Bluth.

A montage of photographs of young John with Howard Bluth.

BLUTH: He was just different from the other kids. And not just because he drooled a lot.

Howard Bluth being interviewed by Mary Carillo.

M.C.: What made him so different?

BLUTH: He was . . . weird. Odd. Quirky. A little annoying. Short. Very bad skin. No one liked him. Not even me. He was a horrible athlete, didn’t say much. In twenty-five years of teaching, I’d never seen a student with less energy, interest, or charisma. It was almost like he was catatonic. But then, when called upon in class, he was able, at an early age, to take a fresh, cogent thought that a classmate had made moments before and restate it as if it were his own. I knew then that he had the raw skills to become a truly great middle-management-meeting Olympian.

A montage of John Kenney in meetings over the years: Now looking lethargic, now biting his nails, now staring out a window, now spilling coffee on himself, now laughing out of context at something he thought was funny in his head. Followed by a montage of comments he’s made in meetings.

J.K.: Maybe let’s regroup in two weeks?

J.K.: I’m not sure I understand what Alan means when he says “profit and loss.” How can you have both?

J.K.: Larry’s point is an important one. I’d just like to recap what he just said.

J.K.: How about a round of applause for Tina’s thought about the outsourcing thing she was just talking about.

Back to Al and Mary.

A.T.: An amazing story, a bizarre sport.

M.C.: Like the trampoline, like beach volleyball, like archery in many ways, so few people understand why or how or even the point of bimonthly-status-meeting commenting. But herein lies the mystery—and the power—of this odd, odd sport.

A.T.: We take you now to the conference room, where the meeting is already in progress . . . .♦

Think the worst is over?

Courtesy of the NY Times Magazine, this past weekend's edition.

http://www.nytimes.com/2008/08/17/magazine/17pessimist-t.html?_r=1&oref=slogin&ref=magazine&pagewanted=all

@#$%&?!!!

Apparently, it's known as a grawlix, as evidenced by this blog. Who knew?

Nothing new under the sun

An article from the NY Times detailing the research of Dr. David Pritchard, an immunologist, focused on hookworms and auto-immune illnesses.

Saffron

More about saffron than you need to know. Simply amazing.

The Monster of Florence

A mesmerizing but highly disturbing article from the Atlantic detailing an American novelist's take on the Monster of Florence, a series of killings in Italy from 1974 - 1985.

A giant gets a new logo

Walmart (WAL-MART, WAL*MART, et. al.) has announced a new logo. Hmm.

Is it real?

Rémi Gaillard, part street urchin, part artist, and his piece called 'Foot', courtesy of YouTube.

Sensory Itching

A link to Atul Gawande's piece in this week's New Yorker; I find Atul's writing to be a great combination of everyday man meets medicine and this article on faulty sensory mechanisms is a good one.

WALL*E

WALL*E is a must see.

For Josh and Jody's Consideration

The AV Club website lists what they consider to be the 19 best cameo appearances in modern movie making. I'm fully behind them on Alec Baldwin's iconic sales manager in Glengarry Glen Ross and Ned Beatty in Network but find some of their other choices a bit puzzling (David Letterman?) . What do you think?

Want to make your own Ginger-Ale?

Here's a recipe posted in the NY Times earlier this week as part of a larger article on artisanal gin by Raj Patel. (Registration may be required; it's free.) Can't wait to try it out myself. Oh, and if you skip the accompanying article and are not up to speed on gin slang, Dutch courage is gin! (Substitute regular basil if you've got it.)

Ingredients

* Soda water
* Gin
* 4 ounces ginger, peeled and grated
* 2 inches of lemongrass, finely chopped
* 1 cup unbleached cane sugar
* 1 cup water
* 1/2 teaspoon crushed chipotle skin (no seeds unless you’re brave)
* Pinch of salt
* Juice of one lime
* Pinch of tarragon
* 1 leaf holy basil

Method

* Bring the ginger, lemongrass, water, sugar, chipotle and salt to a boil. Simmer for 15 minutes.
* Turn off the heat and add lime, tarragon and basil. The holy basil is a little esoteric, I know. We’ve only got some out back because it’s an Indian cultural icon. But it’s a grand thing to have around though, and is very easy to grow. It’s worth crushing into this drink just for the smell on your fingers afterward. If you don’t have any, a hint of anything astringent will do.
* Allow to cool. Strain out. The left-overs look like the sort of thing that’d be happiest in a cookie, but I’m still trying to figure out my baking game.
* Finally, to about a finger of the ginger syrup, stir in some home made soda water and, oh yes, don’t forget a shot of your favourite Dutch courage.

Dinner last night

Quiche with brie, gruyere, and cheddar with apple wood smoked ham, scallions and parsley; pan fried potatoes; greens from the garden.

Dinner last night

Silverbrite salmon with a mustard cream dill sauce with egg and roasted onions, sweet potato fries, and greens from the garden (arugula, dill, parsley, scallions, little gem lettuce).

Reviewers on the Rampage (I think they're upset)

First, an astonishingly rude movie review (but funny!) from The New Republic (from what I've gathered every reviewer panned it); second, a parody of the movie under review from The Guardian.

A Professional comments on the career of another Professional

From Wednesday's ESPN.com site; the Professor, John Clayton, on the career of my favorite Raven, Jonathan Ogden, or Chewie, as some in Bawlmer knew him. Next time you see Amy, ask her about the time she and Janet saw J.O. at an event.

So long, J.O.; we'll miss you dearly. (So will the quarterbacks.)

One of the smarter things Bird and Co. have done in recent memory

The hiring of Sam Perkins, former Pacer and member of the 2000 NBA finals team, has been retained by the Indiana Pacers as the Vice President of Player Relations, according to ESPN.com today. Way to go, Larry.

Brilliant; but waaayyy too late for this fan.