Live Long and Prosper, America

I love this picture.  I love it so much.

How do I love this picture?  Let me count the ways, let me sing of my love.

It's Nichelle Nichols, our own Uhura, in the Oval Office, with the President of the United States!

Oh.  My.  God.

Okay, my little Trekkie heart can only take so much.  I'll try to calm down.

Things I love about this picture:

1.  It's the Oval Office.  What a great room, filled with power, symbolism, and history.

2.  Nichelle looks great.  79 years old, still a hottie, and I'll fight any man who says otherwise.

3.  She's wearing a Starfleet necklace.  To meet the President.  How cool is that?

4.  They're obviously happy to meet each other.  And why not?  After all,

5.  He has said that he's a fan of the show and . . .

6.  He had a crush on her when he was a younger fan.  No really!

Months ago Pres Obama was quoted as saying that he'd had a crush on me when he was younger. I asked about that & he proudly confirmed it!
— Nichelle Nichols (@RealNichelle) March 1, 2012

Well, of course he did.  What kind of red-blooded American Trekkie male didn't have a crush on Uhura?

7.  The Vulcan salute.  The President of the United States, giving the Vulcan salute, in the Oval Office.

8.  And this is the big one.  When Star Trek first aired it was in a different America.  It was in an America that had never seen an interracial kiss on it's television before Nichelle Nichols and Star Trek.  It was in an America where the sight of an African-American woman as an officer, an equal to other officers, a respected expert and leader, was unusual, and unusually important.  You may have heard the story.

And there you are.  From Star Trek to Martin Luther King, Jr., to this moment.  Take another look at that picture.  Do you see a bit of pride in Nichelle's smile?  You should.  After all, she opened the hailing frequencies.

Put 'em Up, Put 'em Up

This is Harold "Honeyboy" Hughes.  He was a relative of mine, on my mother's side.  A K.O. sensation among the featherweights, I see.  Family lore has it that he was fairly well known in upstate New York and Vermont, where he plied his trade in the 1930s.  Years after his death a mention of his name in that area would often find an old fight fan that remembered him fondly.  I've heard that some of the people who knew him best didn't have overwhelmingly positive memories of old Honeyboy.  He looks like he was a tough little fighter and I sure wouldn't want to have had to square off against him.

This poster is obviously aimed at the trade more than the fans, which is kind of interesting.  I love the language of the thing.  I especially love the list of "his battles."  A lot of Kids, along with Mickey, Frankie, Charlie, Willie, Tiger, and Joe.  But my favorite name is right at the top.  K.O. Bunny.

What a great fighter name!  K.O. Bunny.  Can you picture what this guy would look like?  Maybe a buffed up Bugs wearing trunks and a mean look?  And who would want to get knocked out by a guy named K.O. Bunny?  I mean the K.O. part, sure, but the Bunny?  Who would admit to getting knocked out by a Bunny?

It's times like this I wish I could draw.  I'd love to come up with an image for K.O. Bunny.  Man.  And I wonder what the Honeyboy-Bunny fight was like.

One of these days I'll have to make up a story about that.  For now, you just need to know that Honeyboy Hughes is a fighter.  He is not an alibi artist.  And don't you forget it.

Be It Resolved

A little late, I know, but despite that I have no resolutions regarding procrastination.  Without further ado, here are my resolutions for this new year of our Lord, two thousand twelve.

1.  I resolve to become obese.  I know that sounds odd, but technically obese would be a significant improvement.  Onward to obesity!

2.  I resolve to write more.

3.  I resolve to finish more writing projects.

4.  I resolve to read more.

5.  I resolve to take more and longer walks.

6.  I resolve to reduce the number of pills that I have to take.  You'd be surprised at the size and complexity of my little home pharmacy.

7.  I resolve to be more of the me that I would rather be.

8.  The über resolution -- I resolve to succeed.  Which is the point of all these things anyway.  That one word -- Success -- is the real American Dream.  Striving to succeed, however we define it, however we imagine it, is what we're all here for.  It is our inalienable right, so we might as well dream big.

Crystal Ball and Tea Leaves

It's that time of year again.  Actually, it's a little late, but I'm having a tough time getting things going lately, so that's just too bad, isn't it?  Anyway, it's time for our annual predictions for the new year!  You'll probably want to make note of these, as you could use this foreknowledge to your advantage.  And remember, "we are all interested in the future, for that is where you and I are going to spend the rest of our lives."

In the world of literature, a book that has the words "wind" and "keyhole" will be on the New York Times bestseller list.

Mitt Romney will win the presidential election.  He will immediately be awarded a Nobel Prize in economics.

The "God Particle" will not be found, disproving the existence of Peter Higgs.

Investigative journalists, working behind the scenes at the Olympics, will discover that London no longer exists and has been replaced by a theme park of the same name.

The Patriots will win the Super Bowl (I predict this every year).

The following people will be irrelevant in 2012:  Tiger Woods, Kate Gosselin, Rick Santorum, and Oprah Winfrey.

The United States will continue to blow up people and things in other countries and will increase the number of places where our troops are stationed.

Elements of the Tea Party and the Occupy Movement will merge to form a new movement that opposes big government and big business.  They will be immediately and brutally crushed by Pinkerton agents.

That is all!  Further revelations would only serve to confuse and frighten you.  Ask me no more.

No more!

Someday You'll Find It

Because of the time sucking scourge of the Christmas season I haven't been to the movies in a while, but as soon as the dreadful event was finally over I took myself to the bijou to see The Muppets. And since this is the latest of all late reviews, you probably know that the Muppets are back, baby, and they are good.

This version has everything you want in a Muppet movie: sly self-knowledge that breaks the puppety proscenium, clever little inside jokes that tickle old fans, humor that only an educated grown-up could love as well as lowbrow, kid-friendly fart jokes (oh, how I've missed you my dear Fozzie Bear), toe-tapping, heart-tugging songs, celebrity cameos, good versus evil, hope, love, togetherness, and redemption.

Yeah, that seems a lot from a pile of felt, but that's what always made the Muppets so special. They made you believe in all that stuff.

It's been a few years since the Muppets were anything but a corporate trademark. I didn't think there was anybody in Hollywood who could re-capture that magic. But then I had never heard of Jason Segal. Shame on me. This guy seems to have brought our heroes back to life almost as a singular act of will and belief. Which is, essentially, the plot of the movie. The Muppets have to get back together, after all these years, believe in themselves again, and put on one more big show or they'll lose everything to the latest silly bad-guy, a rich man who is so aware of his role as the villain he sometimes orders his henchmen to back him up on maniacal laughs.

The story involves Segal, as Gary, and his brother Walter. Walter just happens to be made out of felt and is a huge fan of the Muppets. I think you can see where this is going. Anyway, the gang gets back together, a show is made, there are some original songs, including “Am I a Man or Am I a Muppet,” which includes the best celebrity cameo in all of muppetdom, and that's saying a lot. There are some good old songs, including my favorite, “Rainbow Connection,” done as a duet with Kermit and Piggy. Now I'm not Miss Piggy's biggest fan, but she's handled so well here that I found both the duet and the romance to be genuinely touching (but then I'm something of a sap).

So, bottom line here. If you are a fan of the old Muppet Show and the old Muppet Movie and were touched by the magic then, you really should see this. And take a kid, if you have one to take. They'll like it too.

Pearl Plus 70

A message from the past.  This is what we used to call leadership.

Mr. Vice President, Mr. Speaker, Members of the Senate, and of the House of Representatives:

Yesterday, December 7th, 1941 -- a date which will live in infamy -- the United States of America was suddenly and deliberately attacked by naval and air forces of the Empire of Japan.

The United States was at peace with that nation and, at the solicitation of Japan, was still in conversation with its government and its emperor looking toward the maintenance of peace in the Pacific.

Indeed, one hour after Japanese air squadrons had commenced bombing in the American island of Oahu, the Japanese ambassador to the United States and his colleague delivered to our Secretary of State a formal reply to a recent American message. And while this reply stated that it seemed useless to continue the existing diplomatic negotiations, it contained no threat or hint of war or of armed attack.

It will be recorded that the distance of Hawaii from Japan makes it obvious that the attack was deliberately planned many days or even weeks ago. During the intervening time, the Japanese government has deliberately sought to deceive the United States by false statements and expressions of hope for continued peace.

The attack yesterday on the Hawaiian islands has caused severe damage to American naval and military forces. I regret to tell you that very many American lives have been lost. In addition, American ships have been reported torpedoed on the high seas between San Francisco and Honolulu.

Yesterday, the Japanese government also launched an attack against Malaya.

Last night, Japanese forces attacked Hong Kong. Last night, Japanese forces attacked Guam.

Last night, Japanese forces attacked the Philippine Islands.

Last night, the Japanese attacked Wake Island.

And this morning, the Japanese attacked Midway Island.

Japan has, therefore, undertaken a surprise offensive extending throughout the Pacific area. The facts of yesterday and today speak for themselves. The people of the United States have already formed their opinions and well understand the implications to the very life and safety of our nation.

As commander in chief of the Army and Navy, I have directed that all measures be taken for our defense. But always will our whole nation remember the character of the onslaught against us.

No matter how long it may take us to overcome this premeditated invasion, the American people in their righteous might will win through to absolute victory.

I believe that I interpret the will of the Congress and of the people when I assert that we will not only defend ourselves to the uttermost, but will make it very certain that this form of treachery shall never again endanger us.

Hostilities exist. There is no blinking at the fact that our people, our territory, and our interests are in grave danger.

With confidence in our armed forces, with the unbounding determination of our people, we will gain the inevitable triumph -- so help us God.

I ask that the Congress declare that since the unprovoked and dastardly attack by Japan on Sunday, December 7th, 1941, a state of war has existed between the United States and the Japanese empire.

Fragile

Last week I had something called an electrocardiogram. It wasn't too bad. First of all, a nice young lady smeared me with lube and probed me. That alone would have made it a good day. Then I got to see live video of my heart beating. Now that was really something.

It took a while, as she had to get pictures of the old pump from several angles, showing all the valves and chambers, and seeing how the blood moved. It was fun to see. But the one shot that really got my attention was a good look at one of those valves.

It's not a big deal. You've surely seen something like it on TV or in a biology class. Just a little flap of flesh, flicking up and down, opening and closing a passage, moving blood out of one space and into another. Flick, flick, flick, this tiny little flap of flesh. Over and over, right on schedule, unchanging, on and on.

Until it doesn't. That's what I kept thinking about, watching that little flap of flesh. It's one of those little things in our bodies that we are never really aware of, those small working parts that flick a tiny fraction of an inch, or release a certain chemical just when it's needed, or do a thousand little things that they do day after day. Until they don't. Because we are delicate things. We imagine ourselves to be strong or tough or even big, but we are not. We are made up of little, bitty, breakable things, only as strong as the weakest bit, and vulnerable in ways we dare not imagine.

I'm not sure what to think of this. On the one hand it did drive home the idea that I ought to take care of myself. There's no point adding any burdens to those little bits, no use throwing off the delicate chemical balance that a lot of those aging components need to keep working. On the other hand, I know that at any moment, no matter what I do or don't do, that little bit of flesh, flicking away moment by moment, could just stop flicking. Then all this stuff, the good, bad, mad, and miserable, would just stop.

And I wonder, what am I doing with the heartbeats that I do have? I don't have time to ask what I have done with my past heartbeats. It's the heartbeats of today that I must tend to. Am I enjoying the little moments that life offers, or am I letting comparatively insignificant things darken those moments between the beats? When musician Warren Zevon was near the end of his life, he was asked what he had learned. “Enjoy every sandwich,” was his advice. Enjoy every one of those little moments life gives you. They are, after all, finite.

Ideally, life should be spent following bliss, pursuing dreams, and finding joy in the moment. But we don't live in an ideal world. There is fear, pain, tragedy, and challenge. Sometimes in pushing against these and overcoming them we find our greatest satisfaction, but they are always there, our lifelong burdens. I'd just hate to hit that last flick of life and realize that I've been dwelling on pain rather than living in joy. I think I'd rather go out chasing rainbows than hiding from storm-clouds.

Meanwhile, one fluttering little bit of me keeps on moving, to and fro, giving me moments.

Partial Perspective Vortex

Not too long ago I was playing around with the Google Sky Map app on my phone (a valid reason to get a smart phone in itself), looking at where the stars would be if I didn't live in light pollution land.  I noticed a little spot called "Hubble Ultra Deep Field."  I had heard about this.  It's a spot in space where scientists had aimed the big telescope and looked farther in space and time then anyone had ever looked before.  It got me thinking, and it got me looking around, and eventually I bumped into this video:



This is a couple of years old, so you've probably seen it already.  It's just that it is a little tiny bit mind blowing and at the moment it is as close as we're going to come to Douglas Adams's Total Perspective Vortex.  So, if you haven't seen it already, and you'd like a glimpse of just how tiny we are compared to the vastness of the cosmos, give it a click.

They Called It Pope's Night

I like the way Boston celebrated the Fifth of November back in the 18th century. Rival gangs would make effigies of the pope, parade them around town, and beat the ever living crap out of each other. Fatalities were not uncommon. Then the group with the fewest injuries would set their pope ablaze. Ah, good times in the Athens of America.

Trivial Hoot 17

It's been a long time since I've had a minute to blog. But here I am, on my first day off from the job in eleven days, and I'm suddenly just loaded with time. I've only had to field one call from work, read half a dozen emails, and attend one unscheduled conference call. Quite relaxing.

So, to celebrate all this leisure, I have decided that it is time for the return of The Question.

This is another of my favorite “odd man out” puzzles. Here is a list:

Eagle. Intrepid. Aquarius. Antares. Falcon. Orion. Challenger.

Okay then, one of these things is not like the others. Which one is it?

As always the first person to correctly respond receives a big invisible hoot and the honor of being named a Steely-Eyed Missile Man. Go for it, you smarty you.

Nice Little Quote

Just a little clip from the book I'm reading:

Women fainted at the sight, so it was said, while strong men gasped; but then, women were forever fainting and strong men gasping in the records of that century.

From Pierre Berton's Niagra.

Oh My.

Suddenly George Takei seems to be everywhere. And I love it.

Here's George with Patty Duke (Cathy was unavailable. Someone gave her a hot dog and she lost control.) doing a PSA for Social Security:



And here's George's audition tape for the Spiderman musical!



Seriously, this guy should host SNL.

This Blog is Not Dead

It is simply waiting for me to get my life in order.  Nothing major.  It's just that I have no time these days for anything like long-form writing.  I'll be back.  Or I'll die of frustration.

You Cannot Outsmart Crazy

America's most important political commentator, Jon Stewart, says everything I wanted to say and several wise things I hadn't thought of regarding the tragedy in Arizona.

The Daily Show With Jon Stewart	Mon - Thurs 11p / 10c
Arizona Shootings Reaction
www.thedailyshow.com
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Ye Olde Lunch

My best pal had to go to the dentist today, which she didn't want to do. To cheer her up I decided to take her to lunch to a place where I've not taken her before. We both love a bit of seafood so we sallied forth for the Union Oyster House, also known as Ye Olde Union Oyster House, also known as the oldest restaurant in America.

The building went up sometime in the early 18th century. No one is quite sure when. Its had a number of different occupants. One of the country's first newspapers, the Massachusetts Spy, was published for a while on the second floor (they had to move out of town when the revolution started to get kind of shooty). During the war soldiers of Washington's army would go there to get paid. A few years later a guy named Louis Philippe started living there. He made a living teaching French to young ladies (ooh la la, and all that). Thirty four years later he became the last king of France.

It still looks pretty much like this

In 1826 a couple of guys opened a restaurant there. They built a half circle shaped oyster bar. Sitting where we were, in booth #1, I could look at the old bar and imagine Daniel Webster sitting there as he often did, slamming brandy and downing plate after plate of oysters. Up on the second floor is booth #18, John F. Kennedy's favorite spot.

Today the clientele is a funny mix of seafood and history loving locals and tourists. Depending on the time of day you see mostly tourists as the place is right on the Freedom Trail, halfway between Faneuil Hall and Paul Revere's house. A lot of people make a big show of being annoyed by tourists, but I kind of like them. Yup, we do have an interesting town. Yup, we locals are a colorful lot. So here's to you, Mr. Japanese Guy taking photos of the lobster tank. Enjoy your visit.

And I enjoyed my visit to Ye Olde Union Oyster House. The hostess steered us to our booth gruffly, which is how we old Bostonians prefer it. I was reminded that this was the place that hired the first waitress in American history, Rose Carey, back in the '20s. I briefly wondered if she would on duty today when a nice young lady named Elizibeth came over to take our orders. My best pal ordered fried scrod and fries. What is scrod, you ask, you poor out-of-towner you. It is a hunk of white fish. What sort of white fish? Cod? Haddock? Pollock? None of your damn business, you nosy bastid. And who cares, really? It's fish and it's good.

Me, I had something called New England fish cakes. I have no idea what was in them, but they were really good and really filling. They came with a side of fries and Boston baked beans. Damn but I love a good plate of Boston baked beans. The beans, the molasses, and that little unctuous touch of pork fat that pulls it all together. Oh my.
This was preceded by a lovely bit of cornbread and Union's justifiably famous clam chowder. Thick, creamy, with lots of clams and potatoes, a bowl of that could have made a meal in itself.

This was all washed down with a special Sam Adams ale that you can only get in that one spot, a light brown beauty called “Colonial.” Fortified by a pint of that I was more than ready to take on a regiment of redcoats.

That, my friends, is lunch, Boston style.

We took our time, soaking in the dumpy, history soaked atmosphere. We listened as an oyster shucker explained his art to a group of fascinated tourists. We gazed at a portrait of Ebenezer Hancock, the army's first paymaster. We watched the doomed lobsters waving their banded claws at one another. And we briefly considered dessert. The apple cobbler looked good. So did the Indian pudding and the Boston cream pie. But we had to quit there, full of the bounty of the sea as we were.

A lovely lunch, all in all. So to you locals, don't forget your heritage and get yourself some chowder. And for you visitors, stop by. Don't forget your credit card (it only looks cheap). And don't forget to stop at Ye Olde Gift Shoppe on your way out.

Trivial Hoot Sixteen

Hey there puzzlers. Time for another trivia quiz. It's a Star Trek question, so put on your Academy thinking caps.

Here is a list of six Star Trek episodes.

The Naked Time. Tomorrow is Yesterday. The City on the Edge of Forever. Assignment: Earth. The Lights of Zetar. All Our Yesterdays.

One of these episodes does not belong on this list. Which one is the odd man out, and why?

Once again, the first person to answer correctly wins an ephemeral hoot and entry to our honor roll of Steely-Eyed Missile Men and Women. Have at it my fellow Trekkies.

The Aztecs Had It Right

It's a big consumer orgy, a celebration of life that is also a season of buying lots and lots of stuff. Sure, it's lots of fun (except for the people who work hard to make it happen for all the rest of you), but it is also exhausting and expensive. We do it every year, year after year, and we call it Christmas. And I say it is just too much. Buying ourselves into debt in December, then paying for it all year until the next December, is madness. Which is why I'm advocating a return to a simpler, more American time. I say we should look to Mesoamerica for our authentic traditions and embrace the ways of our Aztec forefathers. Now they knew how to have a consumer orgy/celebration of life.

First of all, they didn't do it annually. They did it only once every 52 years.

The Aztecs knew that the earth would eventually come to an end. Their religion taught that there had been four previous worlds and they had all died. They knew that this one would be destroyed by earthquakes. They knew that this destruction would happen at the end of one of their calendar's 52 year cycles. They just didn't know which cycle it would be. So once every 52 years they would would spend five days getting ready just in case history was ending. They'd get all their stuff, plates and pots and whatnots, break them, and throw them away. They'd clean up, make the house all spick-and-span, douse any fires they had burning, and then climb up on the roof to watch the end of the universe. It was like everybody going off to visit Milliways at the same time.

The priests were also looking to the skies, but they weren't just sight-seeing. They were looking for the Pleiades. When it reached its zenith and continued on they knew that the world had not come to an end and it was time to begin the New Fire ceremony.

First they had to light a fire. This was terribly important because if the fire was not lit the sun would not rise in the morning, having been destroyed forever. Since it was so important they naturally started the fire on some guy's chest. Everyone was pretty nervous as they did their best boy scout imitations, including the guy they were using as a hearth. Once the fire got going everyone would breathe a sigh of relief, then they'd take the fire off the guy and get it good and roaring. The fellow with the burned chest was then cut open and his heart would be removed and thrown into the fire. Let the party begin!

The fire would be carried to a temple in the capital city where it would be used to light specially made torches. Runners would then take the flame to all parts of the empire and it would eventually light every hearth in the land. Imagine the beauty and joy of the ceremony, the New Fire being carried into town, the warmth of the flames, the renewal of life and the connection of every home in country to one another and to the universe.

Then, of course, came the consumer orgy. Since everything had just been broken up and thrown away everybody would need to buy all new stuff. Happy New Fire! Here's a pot. Here's a new obsidian knife. Here's a floor mat. And we've got to pick up a whole new set of household idols.

There would be much rejoicing, especially among the makers and sellers of stuff. And I imagine that everyone was pretty thankful that this wonderful day usually only happened once or twice in a lifetime.

So I say, let's get back to the good old days, the old time religion of the Aztecs. Sure, it had some gruesome bits, but it still beats having to go through Christmas every year.

By the way, what's the Nahuatl word for humbug?

Glenn's Book of Quotes Number Twenty-Four

“If you have built castles in the air, your work need not be lost; that is where they should be. No put the foundations under them.” – Henry David Thoreau

Dream. Dream wild dreams. Then dare to do the work to follow those dreams to the wild places where they are true.

Intellect and Romance Triumph Over Brute Force and Cynicism

Extreme Awesomeness

It's the Least Wonderful Time of the Year

The holiday season.  Thanksgiving, Hanukkah, Christmas, Solstice, HumanLight, Kwanzaa, Festivus, Eid al-Adha, Boxing Day, Feast of Stephen, Soyal, Yule, Life Day.  Phooey.  Flummery.  I suppose humbug would be traditional.  In my line of work it means that my time and energy are at their greatest premium.  So this is my annual announcement that you will hear less from me than usual.  I'll try to surface for air from time to time, but don't hold your breath.  Enjoy your holidays.  Bah!