Yes, it's that time again, when I have nothing else to say so I report on books, movies, etc. Which isn't bad, of course, and I spend a lot of time reading, less time watching stuff on TV, but it indicates a solitary life. Which also isn't bad, it's my choice. I guess.
Jane Smiley: no one writes better than Smiley about farms and Iowa and the early 20th century. "Some Luck" appears to be the first book in a trilogy and it is really good. The characters are so well drawn and their lives are so nicely described, to the point that you sincerely want to know what happens to them, what their lives will become, who will succeed and how, who will succumb to the temptations of the times. It ends as a Book One of a trilogy should end: a little sad yet hopeful and it makes you hungry for Book Two.
"Flight 232" by Laurence Gonzales is a detailed account of the crash of United Airlines Flight 232 in July 1989 in a cornfield in Iowa. I heard an interview with the author on public radio and he was so articulate about this crash and about his book that it compelled me to read it. The details about the crash are gut-wrenching. Interviews with many of the survivors provide those details, from the first indication that something was wrong with the plane to the actual crash, the aftershock of seeing bodies strewn across the crash zone. Reading about the workings of an airplane, the loss of all hydraulics, the mechanics of the plane's destruction seems boring, but those parts were also very interesting. You learn more than you might want to about the crash, but you also learn how this particular crash was a sort of "perfect storm" of small malfunctions that turned into a huge loss of control and subsequently a crash that should have resulted in 100% casualties. Instead, 62% of the passengers and crew survived. It's an intense read.
An Amazon movie rental: "Fort Bliss" tells the story of a young soldier returning from a tour of duty in Afghanistan, trying to mend the relationship with her young 5-year old son. It's not schmaltzy or manipulative. It's honest and very good. You can get a 7 day Amazon rental for less than $5.00. Check it out.
TV shows: well, I succumbed and just bought season 5 of "Justified" with the awesomely hot Timothy Olyphant. Yes, this series is a bit violent and not always nice but Olyphant makes it all worthwhile, at least to me. I also rented season 2 of "Newsroom" which I am totally loving. Smart, quick, so well done. Buying a series sometimes seems like a waste of money but for less than $20 I get hours of happiness (or at least diversion) so it's always worth it. And I can always re-watch it when my feeble memory fades even more.
There are more books that I can report on and maybe I will, but not tonight. I am at work and guests are coming into the lobby area and want to be friendly. I would rather not do that friendly thing, but I cannot type and smile at them simultaneously, so must sign off now.
Tuesday, November 18, 2014
Wednesday, November 12, 2014
Cost differential in flannel pjs
First, thank you, Tom, for your sarcastic mourning over the red flannel pajamas. Honestly, I was momentarily sad then got over it. So should you! (Or not, mourn away, my friend. You saw those pjs more than anyone else I've known, so get down with it!)
OK, I went to TJ Max because it's a quarter mile from my house and they have tons of cheap stuff. I found a pair of women's pj bottoms for $12.99. That's fine. But then I went to the men's section and found the EXACT SAME PAIR by the same maker, for $9.99! What's with that? Same flimsy flannel, same maker, just in men's sizes, which obviously use more material because men are usually bigger than women. (In my case, not so much.)
It isn't the $3.00 differential that bugs me but the principle behind it. (They did have a big behind, I might add, more than even I needed.) Why? Is it because women will just pay more and men are cheap? Of course I bought the men's version, saving that precious $3.00, and when I washed them they shrank about 3 inches in length. (Hmm, I could say something here about things shrinking 3 inches in length, but I won't.) Now they still have the big behind but they won't drag on the floor when I walk.
But I don't get the $$$ of the thing. Doesn't matter, who cares, I don't. I now have cozy light-weight flannel pj bottoms with a sagging behind to replace the red ones with deer. These have no deer, no dogs, no moose, nothing except a subtle black and blue plaid pattern. They're kind of nice, actually.
I know, a stupid post, but whatever. I was going to chat about the stupid peeps I work with but that's promoting bad workplace karma, so I chose a different path. The Pajama Path. Deal with it.
,
OK, I went to TJ Max because it's a quarter mile from my house and they have tons of cheap stuff. I found a pair of women's pj bottoms for $12.99. That's fine. But then I went to the men's section and found the EXACT SAME PAIR by the same maker, for $9.99! What's with that? Same flimsy flannel, same maker, just in men's sizes, which obviously use more material because men are usually bigger than women. (In my case, not so much.)
It isn't the $3.00 differential that bugs me but the principle behind it. (They did have a big behind, I might add, more than even I needed.) Why? Is it because women will just pay more and men are cheap? Of course I bought the men's version, saving that precious $3.00, and when I washed them they shrank about 3 inches in length. (Hmm, I could say something here about things shrinking 3 inches in length, but I won't.) Now they still have the big behind but they won't drag on the floor when I walk.
But I don't get the $$$ of the thing. Doesn't matter, who cares, I don't. I now have cozy light-weight flannel pj bottoms with a sagging behind to replace the red ones with deer. These have no deer, no dogs, no moose, nothing except a subtle black and blue plaid pattern. They're kind of nice, actually.
I know, a stupid post, but whatever. I was going to chat about the stupid peeps I work with but that's promoting bad workplace karma, so I chose a different path. The Pajama Path. Deal with it.
,
Thursday, November 6, 2014
The end of red flannel pajamas
Ten or fifteen years ago my friend Tom gave me a pair of red flannel pajamas for Christmas. I think he bought them a size too small for himself, but they fit me perfectly. Red flannel with white deer. Very cozy, warm, comforting. I wore those things a lot. Living in Inverness, one needs flannel pjs so I wore them to bed often. At some point I got rid of the top (too hot, I think) but the bottoms have been with me non-stop.
Flannel pajama bottoms are more than just pajama bottoms. They are like small-grade sweat pants. In Inverness I had no hesitation about going to the grocery store in those pjs with a crappy sweatshirt. I took them to Europe every year (in the days of Europe travel) because there was nothing better than coming back to the hotel room at the end of the afternoon and tossing off my jeans and putting on the red pajama bottoms. They were like lounging pants.
When I come home from work, I always change my clothes and in the colder months I often opted for the red pjs as my in-house non-work outfit. Those red pj bottoms have seen me cook, clean, lounge. They have been to more than a dozen countries, have been worn on Christmas Eve and Christmas morning for the past dozen years and have always been my go-to comfort pants.
In the past couple of months I have noticed that the fabric was getting very sketchy: thin and weak. I gave it notice but nothing more than that. I foolishy figured these red flannel pajama bottoms would be around for another ten years. Not happening. Tonight, sitting down on the couch, the tension that is caused in that sitting down action made the cloth rip apart. Not on the seam, but in the cloth itself. It had simply gotten too old, too fragile, to continue.
Sad, yes. A metaphor perhaps for growing old, being too fragile to continue to hold. I loved these pjs but tomorrow they will go into the trash and I will go to Ross or TJ Max and buy a new pair. They won't have the history that the red pjs have but they may last another ten years or so, hopefully. Or not.
No big deal, but hey, thanks Tom for the gift those many years ago. The red flannel pajamas served me well. I wore them with you many times, at home and abroad. Thank god cloth doesn't speak, but it would be kind of cool if they had their own passport.
.
Flannel pajama bottoms are more than just pajama bottoms. They are like small-grade sweat pants. In Inverness I had no hesitation about going to the grocery store in those pjs with a crappy sweatshirt. I took them to Europe every year (in the days of Europe travel) because there was nothing better than coming back to the hotel room at the end of the afternoon and tossing off my jeans and putting on the red pajama bottoms. They were like lounging pants.
When I come home from work, I always change my clothes and in the colder months I often opted for the red pjs as my in-house non-work outfit. Those red pj bottoms have seen me cook, clean, lounge. They have been to more than a dozen countries, have been worn on Christmas Eve and Christmas morning for the past dozen years and have always been my go-to comfort pants.
In the past couple of months I have noticed that the fabric was getting very sketchy: thin and weak. I gave it notice but nothing more than that. I foolishy figured these red flannel pajama bottoms would be around for another ten years. Not happening. Tonight, sitting down on the couch, the tension that is caused in that sitting down action made the cloth rip apart. Not on the seam, but in the cloth itself. It had simply gotten too old, too fragile, to continue.
Sad, yes. A metaphor perhaps for growing old, being too fragile to continue to hold. I loved these pjs but tomorrow they will go into the trash and I will go to Ross or TJ Max and buy a new pair. They won't have the history that the red pjs have but they may last another ten years or so, hopefully. Or not.
No big deal, but hey, thanks Tom for the gift those many years ago. The red flannel pajamas served me well. I wore them with you many times, at home and abroad. Thank god cloth doesn't speak, but it would be kind of cool if they had their own passport.
.
Monday, November 3, 2014
Something of everything
I could talk about those Giants but everything has been said. What a run! What a win! What a last game! Oh Buster, Madison, Bruce, Pablo and all the rest. Thank you, Giants, you beautiful team, thank you.
Weather: yeah! It was so cold in my house this morning that I turned the heat on, the first time …… in what seems like a year. It was lovely, sleeping last night under a real blanket, feeling the cold air (windows open, of course) on my face and loving every minute of that cold air. Driving through Sonoma Valley right now is like living in a Monet painting: low sun, the light in the sky shimmers with a creamy, golden sheen, the grape vines dance with color and the air still smells like rotting grapes, in a good way. In two weeks those vines will be screaming with bold, crazy color. It's a good time to be alive, in the fall.
And then yesterday I read this article in the NY Times and I almost yelled out loud! This is me! Andrew O'Hagan perfectly describes my love of hotel rooms, even hotel rooms close to home. The anonymity of a sterile yet friendly room, the lack of personal stuff scattered around, the nice towels, the TV channels, the opportunity for room service and on and on. Now, the places I stay are nothing like staying at Claridge's in London, but hey, we take what we can afford and enjoy it immensely. At least I do. Check it out: http://tmagazine.blogs.nytimes.com/2014/10/21/a-hotel-room-of-ones-own/
I will make another trip to Sacramento this week to set up a Life-Alert device for the old Mom. It won't prevent her from falling but at least it might get someone to her quicker once she falls again, which she will do. Seriously, folks, it's a mess getting old. Let's not do it. Thelma and Louise were not too far off in steering over that cliff.
More to follow, soon enough.
.
Weather: yeah! It was so cold in my house this morning that I turned the heat on, the first time …… in what seems like a year. It was lovely, sleeping last night under a real blanket, feeling the cold air (windows open, of course) on my face and loving every minute of that cold air. Driving through Sonoma Valley right now is like living in a Monet painting: low sun, the light in the sky shimmers with a creamy, golden sheen, the grape vines dance with color and the air still smells like rotting grapes, in a good way. In two weeks those vines will be screaming with bold, crazy color. It's a good time to be alive, in the fall.
And then yesterday I read this article in the NY Times and I almost yelled out loud! This is me! Andrew O'Hagan perfectly describes my love of hotel rooms, even hotel rooms close to home. The anonymity of a sterile yet friendly room, the lack of personal stuff scattered around, the nice towels, the TV channels, the opportunity for room service and on and on. Now, the places I stay are nothing like staying at Claridge's in London, but hey, we take what we can afford and enjoy it immensely. At least I do. Check it out: http://tmagazine.blogs.nytimes.com/2014/10/21/a-hotel-room-of-ones-own/
I will make another trip to Sacramento this week to set up a Life-Alert device for the old Mom. It won't prevent her from falling but at least it might get someone to her quicker once she falls again, which she will do. Seriously, folks, it's a mess getting old. Let's not do it. Thelma and Louise were not too far off in steering over that cliff.
More to follow, soon enough.
.
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