Roger O Green

(1) Foster Dulles; (2) and George Michael; (3) and Bernie Taupin

In honor of someone’s 60th birthday today, I found these clues on the J-Archive for whom the answer is “Who is…” and the birthday person in question, except for the last three, for which the answer is this person, added to the footnoted person in the title of this piece.

HOT TUNES $600: He’s recorded “Burn Down the Mission”, “Flames of Paradise” & a big hit about a candle.
RAY CHARLES & FRIENDS $600: (Hi, I’m Larry King.) In 2005 I talked to this pop legend about his duet of “Sorry Seems To Be The Hardest Word” with Ray Charles
THE 1970s MUSIC SCENE $800: He sang “Someone Saved My Life Tonight” about a suicide he attempted when engaged to an onion heiress
DUETS $200: In 1994 he charted a new version of “Don’t Go Breaking My Heart”, this time with RuPaul
POP STARS A.K.A. $200: “Rocket Man” Reginald Dwight
THE OSCARS $200: Though he’s acted on screen, as in “Tommy”, his first nomination & win was for a song in “The Lion King”
ROCK MUSIC $100: Although his 1974 hit “Bennie And The Jets” hit No. 1 in the U.S., it only reached No. 37 in the U.K.
NICKNAMES $800: This rock star, nicknamed “Captain Fantastic”, has over $50,000 worth of eyeglasses
PEOPLE $400: When he auctioned off his wacky wardrobe, his Pinball Wizard boots sold for over $20,000
(1) BEFORE & AFTER $800: He sang “Can You Feel The Love Tonight?” when negotiating a peace treaty with Japan & as Ike’s Secretary of State
(2) POP MUSIC $400: These 2 singers, with 4 first names between them, had the 1991 No. 1 hit “Don’t Let The Sun Go Down On Me”
(3) THEY WROTE THE SONGS $300: “Honky Cat” & “Crocodile Rock”

This doesn’t count the clues where the person’s name is in the clue, including a whole category on 4/11/2006.

Unfortunately, the J-Archive doesn’t have out yet my favorite Final JEOPARDY! clue, about a musician who has had a Top 40 song every year from 1971 to 1995. Interestingly, this person didn’t have one in 1996, but had his biggest hit in 1997.

And if you don’t know who he is, then write to me. Privately.

ROG

The Lydster at 3: T Minus 2

I asked a few people how I should celebrate Lydia’s upcoming birthday. My old buddy Pat from Kansas (the state, not the group) suggested that I do some timeline pictures. Good idea. These photos are all from 2004.

Someone else suggested I describe each of her years. Well, we have one of those books where we record everything: her first tooth,, her first step. But I’ll be darned if I could actually FIND it. Much of Lydia’s second and third years are recorded in this blog. But year one? It’s already of a bit of a blur. Except for a few things.

On a scale of 1 to 10, with 1 being totally unprepared, and 10 being totally prepared, in terms of childbirth, we were about a 9, thanks to our Bradley course.
On the same scale, in terms of child raising, we were about a minus 13. On day four, all she did was eat, sleep and scream. Our doula was helping with breasst feeding instructions, because the child was not latching on. Day 4 was the WORST. We were exhausted, frustrated, and seemingly totally incompetent at this parenting thing. We realize that we were being punished for every inappropriate thought, word, or deed that we had ever done. Payback was brutal.

Then, on day 5, she didn’t cry quite so much. Day 6 was worse than day 5, but nowhere as bad as day 4. Day 7 was a relative picnic. As we figured her out, we became more confident. Maybe she did, too.

Of course, it was not all easy. sleeping at night could be tricky for her, and therefore for us. I remember having a vacuum cleaner on just outside her room a couple nights. (Sidebar: I just read about someone who put out an album of appliance noises, including dishwashers, washers and dryers.)

Several people had told us that the car would be our salvation since she’d fall asleep in it. Well, yes and no. We’d get in the car, she’d cry for five minutes, sleep for one hour – and no more – then wail the rest of the way. This made trips to the grandparents in Oneonta (1 hour, 20 minutes) torturous for the last 15 minutes. Finally, and accidentally, we discovered that if I sang to her, and I mean pretty much constantly (Old McDonald with more animals than a zoo), she’d be placated until we got home.

She was crawling “early” by the book, so we thought maybe she’d walk early as well, but she was disinclined. Fortunately, we didn’t worry about it.

Carol was breastfeeding, so we were both happy when we started on other foods at six or seven months, me because I could be a greater part of the process. I specifically remember thay Lydia had 8 teeth at 8 months. I used to call her Buddha baby.

An old friend from college, who is my age, but who has two practically grown boys asked: How about – why is some snot green? (I didn’t know this until I became a parent.)
Well, I would, but I’m not sure, and from this piece about purulent rhinitis, other people aren’t sure, either:

The green colour is due to immune cells called neutrophils. These are the first cells to appear when bacteria start infecting the nasopharynx. Neutrophils will engulf the bacteria (phagocytosis) and begin to destroy them within themselves using potent digestive enzymes (amongst other things, another being hydrogen peroxide). One of these is lactoferrin and other enzymes are dependent on iron for their activity. The colouration therefore comes from the iron. Ferrous iron compounds are green. It turns yellow the bacteria have been around for a while and other cells start moving in and dying
Dr Martin Powell, Caerphilly, Wales

I agree with Dr Powell that is is the enzymes in neutrophils that give snot its green colour. However, I thought this was due to another powerful antimicrobial agent, peroxidase. Incidentally, this is the same enzyme that gives wasabi its green colour – a lovely thought for the next time you’re in Yo Sushi!
Unknown

Snot only goes green in the presence of infection. When white cells encounter germs they manufacture a large amount of an enzyme called myeloperoxidase which generates toxic compounds like bleach and hydrogen peroxide. Myeloperoxide is green because it contains a lot of iron, which you may remember from chemistry lessons is green in its ferrous form.
Ben Benjamin, Torquay, UK
Got that?

ROG

March Rambling

Yesterday, I was walking home from the drugstore carrying a couple bags, including a couple prescriptions plus bottles of ginger ale and cranberry juice for Carol, who had a couple wisdom teeth removed yesterday morning. This guy in his car yells out his window, something “doing with those f*****’ bags?”, looking at me. Then he giggled and drove away. I’m not sure why, but I’ve been a victim of that “yell and drive” before, in Albany, at least twice with a racial overtone. Sure I can ignore it, but I’d lying if I told you it didn’t bother me, more as a reflection of the inanity of human beings, rather than any real damage done to me.

Still, if I weren’t carrying items that slowed me down, I might have tried to catch up with this dude and ask him why he was being such a [end place for the digestive tract for an equine].

In fact, one time when I was a target of yell and drive, I was on my bicycle, and I did go after the car, which caught a traffic light. I got up to the car, pounded my fist on the trunk once, then pulled over to the passenger side, where the yeller was. He got all “hey, man, only kidding, man, it was a joke, man” on me. I said nothing as the car pulled away. That WAS fun, though.
***
There is this quite lovely woman I’ve seen on the bus. She is, as they say, “a woman of a certain age”, with gray hair. She had age lines but they looked (really) good on her. A couple days ago, I see her and she’s dyed her hair brown. Oddly, it made her look older, for the gray hairs, her face earned; the brunette ones, not so much.
***
High lead levels found in some Albany schools. This is not only somewhat distressing, but also a bit surprising. One of the schools is brand new (opened in January 2007) and is the school Lydia is likely to attend in a couple years.
***
There was an excellent story, written by a sixth grader, in the local paper about her peanut allergy. we’re going to make copies so that Lydia and the people around her will have a better idea what Lydia is/will be going through.
***
Clutter and mess trump clean and neat: a story after my own desk, er, heart.
***
Here’s a useful caffeine reference.
***
My old pal David Brickman has one of his photos, “View of Arbor Hill Neighborhood looking North from Lark Street 1998,” which was purchased by the Albany Institute of History and Art last spring, now on exhibit in their “entry gallery,” where works from the vast permanent collection are showcased. If you are within reach, you can go to the Institute and have a look. Or, use the link to see the image on his website.
***
My daughter woke up screaming at 4 am yesterday from a nightmare. SHE went back to sleep; I didn’t. Then last night, I stayed up watching basketball (I got 3 out of 4 -Memphis won by 1 – ouch) until 12:30 am. Need caffeine. More tomorrow.

ROG

Am I a Luddite?

Twice in the last week, actually within 18 hours, I was referred to as a Luddite. Once, you can ignore; twice, you have to think about it.

Time number one was Thursday afternoon, when I was expressing frustration with some technology at work, how it changes often and not always for the better. The young woman said, “And you just want it to work.” “Yes, and I don’t want to have to look under the hood,” to use an automotive metaphor. Of course, even car mechanics can’t look under the hood anymore without complicated diagnostic computer technology anymore. If wanting it to work without hassle makes me a Luddite, then I am.

Time number two was Friday morning, when one of my racquetball partners was going on about the wonders of being able to watch cable television on his cell phone. I furrowed my brow and said, “Why would you want to watch TV on a two-inch screen?” Informed that the screen was larger than usual, I corrected myself; “OK, a three-inch screen.” If not being an early adopter of technology is being a Luddite, then I’m so there.

I had to laugh when I read this from Lefty Brown: “I’m behind the curve when it comes to technology. I’ve just started listening to podcasts.” And he’s thinking of starting one of his own this year. I’m planning a podcast, too…in 2011.

Truth is, mechanical stuff has never come easily to me. I need to be shown. I cannot be told. I cannot Read The Manual. Just this week, I was trying to design an e-mail template. I was sent instructions, which I was following, until I realized that I had to keep some window open that I had closed – NOT EXPLAINED IN THE MANUAL – and I had to start all over again.

Also at work, we’ve been putting together PDF files to send to clients. Well, I couldn’t get this AT ALL. Then, someone SHOWED me, and I discovered how easy the task was. But reading about it simply did not help me.

In my first days of my job, some 14 1/2 years ago, I was operating something called an electronic bulletin board, which involved doing a lot of things at the C:\ prompt of my computer, i.e., in DOS. This despite the fact that I had no idea what an EBB was, or what it was used for, or DOS commands, for that matter. Fortunately, this very patient guy named Kevin showed me a lot of stuff over a two-day period, and I became rather proficient at it. A useless skill now, but it showed that I am teachable.

I LIKE some technology, but some technologies don’t like me. I remember that wife Carol has gotten a lovely VCR from her brothers, but we never used it except to play tapes, because the tuning took three people three hours and it still wasn’t right. Whereas MY VCR was so idiot-proof that, with the onscreen instructions, I was able to set it up in about 10 minutes. The DVR is wonderful, because I can easily watch programs out of order of when I recorded them and easily switch from skating (my wife’s primary interest) to JEOPARDY, e.g.

I never got an eight-track because I realized what a stupid technology it was when I was in someone’s car, listening to The Beatles Again, when the song “Rain” stopped in midsong to change tracks. It’s a three-minute song, FCOL! A stupid technology.

I never got a Betamax machine, but that was only because the competing technologies made me nervous; I didn’t own a VCR until Beta was essentially dead. I’m feeling similarly disinterested in BluRay or BluTooth, or whatever is competing with something else; I’ll wait until it all shakes out before deciding that I need it.

Need. So far, I don’t NEED a Palm Pilot, or XBox. Or even a cell phone, though virtually everyone says I will when Lydia gets older, and maybe that’ll be true. Or maybe there will be some other technology to replace it. Cell phones: a mixed technology. Useful in cases of emergency, but I’ve never wanted to be available 24/7, thank you.

Anyway, I don’t think I have anything on Ned Ludd, the original Luddite, who used to smash machines to try to forestall the Industrial Revolution. Though I did write a little cheer for him:
Captain Ludd
He’s our man
If he can’t do it
Don’t need to be done.

ROG

Embracing 54

I’m working on trying to remember that I’m 54. It’s not that I fear it, or regret it; it’s that I’m likely not to remember it. It’s not as though I can recall all the times I spent at Studio 54; heck, I never even saw the movie. It’s a nonadecagonal number, but I don’t even know what that means.

It’s not like a number divisible by 10, or even 5. It’s not a power of a number, such as 27 or 32 or 36 or 49 or 64. It’s not a repeating digit (33, 44, or next year’s 55).

It’s not a popular culture iconic number such as Jack Benny’s 39 or Paul McCartney’s 64 (again – I should DEFINITELY remember that year.)

It doesn’t have special meaning to me, such as last year (53 – born in ’53) or the year I turned 37 (March 7) or will turn 73 (7 March).

It’s not even a prime number.

So how do I embrace my 54ness? Shall I remember that 54 is:
The atomic number of xenon, a noble gas?
The jersey number of Chicago Bears’ middle linebacker Brian Urlacher?
The number of the police car on an old NBC sitcom I used to watch enough that I STILL remember the theme, from which someone made a terrible movie starring David Johansen and John C. McGinley, the very existence of which I didn’t remember?

Then it struck me, though not right away: 54 is the number of my house. I guess I WILL be able to remember it after all, and won’t have to recall 54 40 or fight.

(There is some appropriate Homeric response, but I’m not going to g’oh there.)
***
There’s a holdup in the Bronx,
Brooklyn’s broken out in fights.
There’s a traffic jam in Harlem
That’s backed up to Jackson Heights.
There’s a scout troop short a child,
Kruschev’s due at Idlewild
Car 54, Where Are You?
***
Re: the US Attorneys’ firing case, you may have seen this letter (in PDF) that has more conditions that attendees at a hypochondriac convention. Or as one colleague put it: “Jedi mind tricks: ‘You will hear testimony from only Harriet Miers and you will be satisfied…'” And to think that she could have been on the Supreme Court.
ROG