First, it was Jordan Marsh.
Then it was The Boston Globe.
Followed by Filene's.
What next? Larry Luchino and George Steinbrenner get wise to the economies of scale, merge, and have The Boston Yankees play against their sister franchise, The New York Sox?
Enough with the Manhanttanization of the land of the b 'n c....already.
And the benefits of merging are apparently not lost on The Grey Lady's editors, who seem to be assigning stories to both theirGlobe and Timesunderlings on a "kill two birds with one stone" basis. Otherwise, how do you explain this story in The New York Times, and this story The Boston Globeboth of which appeared on the February 21.
Or is it that Wednesday is still Prince Spaghetti Day?
Thursday, February 22, 2007
Freedom of, and from, speech
Part 1: Freedom of Speech
Okay, so here in the land of the b 'n c, we had an interesting kerfuffle about electronic freedom of speech vs. freedom from (certain) speech.
Over at Etiquetteer.com, our guide to Perfect Propriety does a wonderful job of outlining the particulars of the situation. And, I have to say: I agree completely. With the advent of technology such as the one employed to create this blog, there has been an utter lack of civic instruction with regard to the eventual distribution of that technology. If 14-year-olds have access to a computer and the internet, they then must be taught that what they publish—and make no mistake, blogging or MySpace pages are publishing—is open for all to read.
(Let's just consider this: Why do "public" and "publish" share such close taxonomic roots? They are connected.)
And if your average 14-year-old chooses to use profanity, than he or she should not feign horror or shock when profanity is used back at them.
Part 2: Freedom from Speech
Company today requested that I be nicer to it. Company wants me to "not be so blunt, and perhaps, take an interpersonal relationships course".
Company has determined that it does not want me to speak freely. I don't agree.
Since technically, Company has more individual rights than I do, does that mean I must abide by Company's desire for freedom from certain of my speech? Where does the country end and Company begin?
Sigh.
Okay, so here in the land of the b 'n c, we had an interesting kerfuffle about electronic freedom of speech vs. freedom from (certain) speech.
Over at Etiquetteer.com, our guide to Perfect Propriety does a wonderful job of outlining the particulars of the situation. And, I have to say: I agree completely. With the advent of technology such as the one employed to create this blog, there has been an utter lack of civic instruction with regard to the eventual distribution of that technology. If 14-year-olds have access to a computer and the internet, they then must be taught that what they publish—and make no mistake, blogging or MySpace pages are publishing—is open for all to read.
(Let's just consider this: Why do "public" and "publish" share such close taxonomic roots? They are connected.)
And if your average 14-year-old chooses to use profanity, than he or she should not feign horror or shock when profanity is used back at them.
Part 2: Freedom from Speech
Company today requested that I be nicer to it. Company wants me to "not be so blunt, and perhaps, take an interpersonal relationships course".
Company has determined that it does not want me to speak freely. I don't agree.
Since technically, Company has more individual rights than I do, does that mean I must abide by Company's desire for freedom from certain of my speech? Where does the country end and Company begin?
Sigh.
Tuesday, February 13, 2007
Frakkin' rain
And here I was, levitating with glee about a big, ole' snowstorm....but no.
A mighty swath of tropical air is pushing the arctic cold front northwest just far enough to make certain that those of us dwelling inside and southeast of said tropical swath will see our hard-won, paltry, three inches of snow turn to slush by 3PM tomorrow afternoon.
Poopy smell-head warm air mass!
A mighty swath of tropical air is pushing the arctic cold front northwest just far enough to make certain that those of us dwelling inside and southeast of said tropical swath will see our hard-won, paltry, three inches of snow turn to slush by 3PM tomorrow afternoon.
Poopy smell-head warm air mass!
Monday, February 12, 2007
Cheese and Snow
Is it remotely possible to have a better weekend than one surrounded by good friends, good cheese, and good wine? I think not. Well, I suppose the whole thing could have taken place in a cozy, remote cabin surrounded by quietly wheezing pine trees and mounds of fluffy, yet sculpture- and ski-friendly snow.
Oh, I'm sorry, I forgot. It's never going to snow in Boston, again, is it? No, it's not. Thank you ExxonMobil.
Or is it? YES!!!
Let me frame my excitement for you:
Meteorologists on New England-based television stations get, on average, three to four times as much air-time as meteorologists in other parts of the country. Further, our local affiliates do not—DO NOT—hire "weather readers". In order to work those blue screens, you have to be a genuine scientist.
So, that said, these poor guys and gals have been stuck in the most boring weather pattern this side of of a desert. For almost two solid weeks, it's been "dry and cold...artic air will continue to settle over the area, and it will be bright and sunny".
Forecasters do not move here to say that.
They move to San Diego.
Residents do not live here to endure that.
They move to San Diego.
So I honestly can't recall the last time I've seen so many of our local meteorlogists practically levitate with glee at the potential for a serious snowstorm on Valentine's Day.
And, with so much cheese and wine and good fellowship still in me, I too, and levitating with glee.
Oh, I'm sorry, I forgot. It's never going to snow in Boston, again, is it? No, it's not. Thank you ExxonMobil.
Or is it? YES!!!
Let me frame my excitement for you:
Meteorologists on New England-based television stations get, on average, three to four times as much air-time as meteorologists in other parts of the country. Further, our local affiliates do not—DO NOT—hire "weather readers". In order to work those blue screens, you have to be a genuine scientist.
So, that said, these poor guys and gals have been stuck in the most boring weather pattern this side of of a desert. For almost two solid weeks, it's been "dry and cold...artic air will continue to settle over the area, and it will be bright and sunny".
Forecasters do not move here to say that.
They move to San Diego.
Residents do not live here to endure that.
They move to San Diego.
So I honestly can't recall the last time I've seen so many of our local meteorlogists practically levitate with glee at the potential for a serious snowstorm on Valentine's Day.
And, with so much cheese and wine and good fellowship still in me, I too, and levitating with glee.
Tuesday, February 6, 2007
Citizen Charlie
While my ideal method of transportation to and from the office would be....padding to the computer in my jammies, for now I either take the subway (the "T" for all those not residing in the land of the bean and the cod), or ride my bike.
And so, it is to the T we now turn our attention.
We who ride the T have become Citizen Charlie. On a good, high-functioning, not-counting-the-commuter-rail day, there are about a million of us. And Citizen Charlie is accustomed to:
• having packages, boxes, and bags shoved in our face if we are lucky enough to grab a seat
• learning to decipher a PA system that sounds like seven hoarse huskies barking into a wind tunnel
• using scampering mice at Park Street as a train-detection arrival system and wondering why the mice don't get smushed
• standing on the outdoor Green Line platforms in every wind and weather and realizing that we still have it better than the bus riders
• trying to explain where the name "Lechmere" comes from
• convincing confused tourists that the Government Center T stop isnot the entrance to a city-wide safety bunker
• looking on with scorn and disdain as the suburban, auto-driving masses invade our territory during Red Sox/Celtics/Bruins season and have the nerve to complain (File this one under, "Only I may complain about my family.")
And while this list is entertaining enough, it naturally brings me to the biggest, weirdest, most pressing issue of all:
Who the hell is Charlie?
This clip from YouTube features the Kingston Trio singing the song, but not including the political portion. (Clearly, the creator lives in Newton....the Green Line, commuter rail, and trees.)
So, as you drive/bike/rail/sail/fly/pad back to bed in your jammies home tonight...hum a tune, sing a song, and remember this: We are all Citizen Charlie....fightin' corruption and just trying to get where we're going.
And so, it is to the T we now turn our attention.
We who ride the T have become Citizen Charlie. On a good, high-functioning, not-counting-the-commuter-rail day, there are about a million of us. And Citizen Charlie is accustomed to:
• having packages, boxes, and bags shoved in our face if we are lucky enough to grab a seat
• learning to decipher a PA system that sounds like seven hoarse huskies barking into a wind tunnel
• using scampering mice at Park Street as a train-detection arrival system and wondering why the mice don't get smushed
• standing on the outdoor Green Line platforms in every wind and weather and realizing that we still have it better than the bus riders
• trying to explain where the name "Lechmere" comes from
• convincing confused tourists that the Government Center T stop is
• looking on with scorn and disdain as the suburban, auto-driving masses invade our territory during Red Sox/Celtics/Bruins season and have the nerve to complain (File this one under, "Only I may complain about my family.")
And while this list is entertaining enough, it naturally brings me to the biggest, weirdest, most pressing issue of all:
Who the hell is Charlie?
This clip from YouTube features the Kingston Trio singing the song, but not including the political portion. (Clearly, the creator lives in Newton....the Green Line, commuter rail, and trees.)
So, as you drive/bike/rail/sail/fly/pad back to bed in your jammies home tonight...hum a tune, sing a song, and remember this: We are all Citizen Charlie....fightin' corruption and just trying to get where we're going.
Thursday, January 18, 2007
10 before 10
Since I have only one fan/reader, I think it's unfair of me not to post things more frequently. After all, with just the one audience member, the pressure is really on. Feedback has been "more posts, more often".
So, here's the poop: Ten posts before 10:00AM
1. Sandra Lee's forehead is now completely immobile. There are more preservatives in that woman's face than in a whole TV season's worth of her artificial-extract flavored CoolWhip.
2. Winter has not been feeling well. It's been in bed with a slight fever of about 50 degrees. Well, guess who recovered, put on some clothes, and hauled its sorry, cold ass out of bed and into New England? No snow yet, but I'll keep you posted. As for the temperature, "Mine goes to 11."
3. Apparently, the BosNyWash corridor has too many LuxuryCondos(TM) and now must rent them. Pity the poor wealthy homeless, who are apparently living, where? In the abundance of luxury hotels in these urban environs?
4. A new season of The Real Housewives of Orange County. Yes, they're all the same, fascinating shade of beigey-pinky-rust. Yes, they all have the same bizarre, boob-and-nose-and-botox'd look. Yes, they seem to have many, many misguided values. But, damnit, Jeana Keough and Vicki Gunvalson work their collective asses off. Those women are self-made millionaires who've worked hard for their money. And as for Lauri Waring, at least she seems to show the occasional shred of common sense, and seems very kind. It's my guilty pleasure, yes, but there is some deeper nugget of the interesting to be found.
5. J. had the baby on Monday. It's a girl. Welcome to the world Miss Claire. I hope we leave this place in half-decent shape for you and your big brother. I'll do my part and go buy some energy-saving lightbulbs.
6. I miss my friends.
7. Company wants me to laugh. And he let me know that a class is available for such laughter. And that if I laugh more, my stress will be relieved, and my BP might go down. I know this: The email made me laugh. The work I do makes me laugh. But somehow, I suspect it's not the kind of laughter that Company was hoping for. Yes, Company is a silly thing, isn't he? And if you don't think that I should bestow personhood upon Company, then you haven't seen The Corporation.
8. Husband looks good. I'm jealous. I need to join a gym.
9. I admire Dominick Dunne's writing. He creates a wonderful sense of intimacy without being intrusive. He's honest, but in a gracious way. He also has a wicked sense of humor, and, while he writes about tragic, and often gruesome events, he never loses his compassion. He must live forever!
10. I dreamed of St. Barth's last night.
So, here's the poop: Ten posts before 10:00AM
1. Sandra Lee's forehead is now completely immobile. There are more preservatives in that woman's face than in a whole TV season's worth of her artificial-extract flavored CoolWhip.
2. Winter has not been feeling well. It's been in bed with a slight fever of about 50 degrees. Well, guess who recovered, put on some clothes, and hauled its sorry, cold ass out of bed and into New England? No snow yet, but I'll keep you posted. As for the temperature, "Mine goes to 11."
3. Apparently, the BosNyWash corridor has too many LuxuryCondos(TM) and now must rent them. Pity the poor wealthy homeless, who are apparently living, where? In the abundance of luxury hotels in these urban environs?
4. A new season of The Real Housewives of Orange County. Yes, they're all the same, fascinating shade of beigey-pinky-rust. Yes, they all have the same bizarre, boob-and-nose-and-botox'd look. Yes, they seem to have many, many misguided values. But, damnit, Jeana Keough and Vicki Gunvalson work their collective asses off. Those women are self-made millionaires who've worked hard for their money. And as for Lauri Waring, at least she seems to show the occasional shred of common sense, and seems very kind. It's my guilty pleasure, yes, but there is some deeper nugget of the interesting to be found.
5. J. had the baby on Monday. It's a girl. Welcome to the world Miss Claire. I hope we leave this place in half-decent shape for you and your big brother. I'll do my part and go buy some energy-saving lightbulbs.
6. I miss my friends.
7. Company wants me to laugh. And he let me know that a class is available for such laughter. And that if I laugh more, my stress will be relieved, and my BP might go down. I know this: The email made me laugh. The work I do makes me laugh. But somehow, I suspect it's not the kind of laughter that Company was hoping for. Yes, Company is a silly thing, isn't he? And if you don't think that I should bestow personhood upon Company, then you haven't seen The Corporation.
8. Husband looks good. I'm jealous. I need to join a gym.
9. I admire Dominick Dunne's writing. He creates a wonderful sense of intimacy without being intrusive. He's honest, but in a gracious way. He also has a wicked sense of humor, and, while he writes about tragic, and often gruesome events, he never loses his compassion. He must live forever!
10. I dreamed of St. Barth's last night.
Wednesday, January 3, 2007
Things I Will Never Do
I am happy in my East Coast cerebrally protective pod of elitism. Yes, yes I am. And I realize that's the flip side of a certain coin. But in my protective pod, here are things I will never, ever do:
1. Go to Las Vegas.
It's everything that's wrong with America, and I have no need to support our ongoing wrongness of bigness, profligate waste, and the continuing insistence that we create cities and habitations where naturally, none should exist.
2. Go on a cruise.
Now, with all due respect to N. who is the on-air voice of a certain cruise line, I just cannot, will not, and flat-out refuse to cruise. See above, Las Vegas, RE: profligate and that pretty much says why, or read Kristoffer Garin's "Devils on the Deep Blue Sea".
3. Go to the Disneys.
See all of the above.
1. Go to Las Vegas.
It's everything that's wrong with America, and I have no need to support our ongoing wrongness of bigness, profligate waste, and the continuing insistence that we create cities and habitations where naturally, none should exist.
2. Go on a cruise.
Now, with all due respect to N. who is the on-air voice of a certain cruise line, I just cannot, will not, and flat-out refuse to cruise. See above, Las Vegas, RE: profligate and that pretty much says why, or read Kristoffer Garin's "Devils on the Deep Blue Sea".
3. Go to the Disneys.
See all of the above.
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