Letters From Home

It used to be, back in the Mesozoic era when I was in high school, that a class called “civics” or some variation thereof was required for graduation. Usually it was taught by the football coach or some other marginally qualified teacher, and it was considered a no-brainer even by the people with no brains (in the high school I graduated from, the class was called “Modern Problems” and was indeed taught by the football coach).

One thing that was taught in civics class in those days that doesn’t seem to be taught to anyone nowadays is “propaganda techniques.” I think the original intent was to fortify us all against those godless Commies, but it made reading political blither from our own homegrown knuckleheads more interesting as well. Here is a link to the seven basic propaganda techniques, just for reference sake.

We’re in the midst of yet another political campaign, and it doesn’t take much to spot all the classic techniques in everyone’s ads, if you know where to look. But people just don’t seem to know where to look any more, and fall for the most incredibly obvious misdirections.

It’s too bad that civics class was usually so boring and taught by such marginal teachers, because paying attention in that class might have actually produced an electorate that wasn’t barely one step above the chimps. Oook oook, have a banana and vote!

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You know, guys who get caught with suitcases full of Viagra really should think twice before accusing other people of exaggerating.

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Most of the time, I like California weather.  However, there is one time of year that I could really do without, and that is the span between around September first and about November 15th, which is when it gets really, really hot and dry.  Everyone else gets the nice fall weather and the colorful leaves, and we get heat, Santa Ana winds, and palm fronds littering the ground.  Yuck.

I saw in the paper the other day that the palm trees are dying off, and all I can say is, good riddance.  I’m sure the tourists think they are cool to look at, but the truth is, they drop those miserable fronds all over everything, drip “palm poop” in the springtime, and generally make overgrown nuisances of themselves year round.  The street we used to live on was lined with palm trees.  One of the many reasons I like our current neighborhood is that it is palm tree free.

Of course, we do have magnolia trees up and down the street and they are pretty messy too.  Cities tend to be very unimaginative in their choices of urban trees.  And I don’t know why they picked magnolias for us, but it was done so far back in the mists of history that I doubt anyone at City Hall knows either.

Tonight we are supposed to have high winds and low humidity.  Just more of the kind of California weather I could do without.  Yuck.

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My oldest brother is 53 today, and he was born in 1953.   There has to be some kind of cosmic significance to that.

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Tonight I put together the red-coral-bead-and-coin necklace I’d been planning to do for ages. It turned out really well. I’ll have to wear it over a shirt, obviously, because otherwise the coins will turn my skin green. I’m thinking maybe some kind of shimmery turtleneck from the Wintersilks catalog. Good excuse to go shopping, methinks. I have plenty enough beads and coins to make a matching bracelet and earrings, too, but I’ll do those another day.

I’m also going to make a replica of the Egyptian disk necklace and bracelet that the Metropolitan Museum is selling for $155. Who’s to know mine’s made from bead caps from Fire Mountain Gems and cost me less than $15 when all is said and done?

I’m going to have to go through my necklace hanger and put away the ones I seldom wear. I guess I should start looking for a new jewelry box, too. Or see if anyone wants to take some of these necklaces off my hands (or neck).

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I’m testing out “performancing” for Firefox.  It’s an interesting browser add-on that lets you post to several different kinds of blogs.  I’m not sure I prefer it to my regular method of posting, but it certainly does seem well written.  At least so far.  Took me a while to remember my login password.

I suppose the real test will come when I get around to trying out posting images.

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Got some removable bumper sticker “paper” today so I can create a personalized Celtic knot sticker for my laptop.  If it works out well, I’ll post the instructions.

There’s supposed to be a fish-and-chips place in the arcade across from Vroman’s in Pasadena, that’s supposed to be very good.  We went in there today but couldn’t find it.  I wonder if it’s called something else, or if it’s not there any more?

Corollary:  Half a Tommy’s chili dog is definitely better than none.

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I don’t know which outfit first came up with the idea of sending out personalized address labels with their gimme letters, but thanks to them, I doubt anyone in the USA will ever have to buy another address label (or hand write another return address) till the end of time.

Maybe I’m deluding myself, but I happen to think that sending a bit extra to the Smithsonian every year for a Contributing membership is just one small way of flipping Bush & Co. and their brand of militant ignorance the bird.

Sometimes I wish I could go back to printing out checks from Quicken on a dot matrix printer, so I wouldn’t have to figure out how to make the bills come out in a multiple of three every time (so as not to waste checks).

And now, off to the post office.

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Going back to school after so many years has proved interesting in more ways than one.

I was sitting on the pavement in my favorite library-wall alcove yesterday, peacefully eating my lunch, when what I took to be another Older Student (ca. 40 male) walked by, carrying a sandwich packaged as though he’d gotten it from a vending machine.

He stopped, looked at me, and said “I never would have thought to eat lunch there. May I join you and eat lunch?”

I said sure, it was a great place to eat lunch, I always ate lunch there, and he sat down and introduced himself as Steve. We chit-chatted a bit, the usual small talk, and he asked me if I had a class that afternoon. I had just taken a bite out of my sandwich, so I said “Mmm-hmmm.” And of course then he asked me what class it was, and when I said “Welding,” there was this looonnnng pause.

“Oh,” he said. “Well. I, uh, think it’s great that they have… um, vocational classes. I had no idea they taught welding here.”

I gather he thought that Granny in the Alcove had signed up for Introduction to Emily Dickinson, or Art Appreciation, or some other appropriate class for grannies.

“I’m into Philosophy, myself,” he said. “And I’d love to stay and finish this sandwich here, but I just noticed I have a meeting in five minutes, so I guess I’ll have to finish the sandwich there. If you ever want to sign up for a Philosophy class, be sure to look me up!”

Ah! Division meeting (everyone seemed to have them today) and he was a teacher, not a student.

I took a Philosophy class once, as an undergrad, and it was a good thing I was taking it pass/fail and the prof really, really liked me, so he passed me. Under other circumstances I would have flunked it solid. Chances of my ever taking Philosophy again… um, well, sorry, Steve, but maybe we can do lunch again someday.

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Much as a night owl like myself hates to admit it, sometimes getting up early has actual advantages.

I forgot to un-set my alarm after I slept through it on Thursday (thank goodness I still made it to class on time).  So Friday morning I was waked up at 7:30am, which is a ghastly hour for someone who prefers to stay up late and get up late.  But I was definitely awake after the alarm went off, so I got up and got going on my day.

So, yesterday before lunchtime, I had already been to the post office and the drugstore and had baked two pans of pumpkin cheesecake bars.  Amazing.

I can’t imagine myself being that productive in the morning on a regular basis, but it certainly was worth while getting my lazy fanny out of bed yesterday.

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