The golden age of 'murcan tennis?

 By the way, congrats to Rafa on major championship #13!

How to ensure a happy thanksgiving

Transmissions from the Vacamatic heart

My paternal grandparents, Lake George NY, 1951 (clic the pic for a more glorious image):

My Grandfather was (1) an immigrant from Scotland, (2) a greengrocer, (3) a Baptist minister, (4) an avid gardener, (5) a sugar addict, and (6) a car lover.

Rather than having his children with him in this photo, he posed with his car, a 1946 Chrysler New Yorker!

My father informs me that one of his many childhood chores was keeping the whitewalls on this baby clean and shining.

On Angus' Pond

My wonderful Aunt Joyce is pre-disbursing her estate and gave us some frogskins this winter. We decided to use them to put a small stream and pond in the back yard.

Here are some wee foties of the semi-finished product (clic the pics for a more glorious image):

Markets in everything: doppelganger edition

Who wouldn't want this? a doll that looks like you and spews out pre-recorded messages of your choice (in your voice) to your kid, so it's like you are always around them.

Now, I admit that I am not a parent and haven't been a kid for a long time, but this product appears moderately creepy to me; a good way to drum up future business for psychologists.

Aren't kids supposed to be away from their parents at points in childhood?

Aren't independence, self reliance and self confidence valuable traits?

Are modern parents really this paranoid, smothering, and neurotic?

I guess the proof will be in the sales figures.

One thing is for sure though: Kids couldn't "play" with dolls like these in the kitchens of the 1950s!

ch-ch-changes

A flim-flam man turns philosophy professor only to be shocked by the company he now must keep. Well worth reading it all, here's a juicy excerpt:


"Bob, the professor business is even sleazier than the jewelry business. At least in the jewelry business we were honest about being fake. Plus, when I go to conferences, I've never seen such pretentiousness. These are the most precious people I've ever met."

"Come on, Clancy. Did you really think people were going to be any better in a university?"

"Um, kind of." Of course I did. "And it's not that they're not better. They're worse."

Welcome to my world!

Ou est la plume de ma tante?

Mrs. A and I are on Staten Island visiting my aunt for Thanksgiving. She, for some reason, has taken exception to my choice of headwear, saying it makes me "look like a cuckoo-bird".

Here we are, after dinner last night in a pizza joint that serves a pretty good GF pie (among other things). People, you be the judges: