Ever notice how, about this time every year, you see calendars on sale in bookstores for about 50-100% off the normal price? There is no other discount like it with respect to how steep the drop becomes and for predicting when it will occur. Yet this happens every year. As if perfectly planned in some other more attractive calendar.
But what happens to all of the misfit calendars that don't get sold despite all the discounts/free offers? The cuddly cat collection, or wild Midwest stallions, or uplifting hot air balloon showcases? Do they just get dumped in a back alley, there to be stumbled upon by a disorganized bum to begin his previously unscheduled tale of getting his life back on track?
I would hope that the rejects would get donated to a good cause. Like to a hospital, so patients can stare at something other than the safe hand washing procedure taped to the wall. Or perhaps to a biker bar, in the back room, for practice taking out a cuter being's eyes with a dart, or for just randomly selecting the day to take out somebody's eye with a dart (works well in both capacities). Perhaps all of the rejects should get shipped back on a pallet and placed on the publisher's desk, for a more tangible indication of the excess supply of adorable or muscle cars ordered this year. Then rightly pitched in the back alley.
The calendar business certainly is a racket. You can't reuse the one from the previous year unless it is either free of markings (or can be wiped clean) and if the daily dates don't correspond to any particular weekday. But then it is just a list of numbers on a wipe board, and that isn't much use. So, given this dilemma, everyone is forced to procure a new 12-pack of rolling Irish hills scenes every year. Then slowly watch the next year waste away without ever getting any closer to the Emerald Isle.
There are a couple ways to put an end to this waste. One, just don't print the year on the calendar. Who actually ever looks at a calendar to find out what year it is? Or to find out what next year is? If they did this, there would eventually come a time when the numerical days align with the weekdays again. It could be a few years down the road, but at least there would come another time when the dates match. Hell, for allure, even take the unused ones at the end of a given season and actually store them somewhere exotic, like in a winery for years to come. Then when they are resurfaced for resale, they can be marked up since they would have aged alongside vintage pinot. The wine business should start doing this anyway, since it sounds kind of like a cool way of linking two different years to determine the age of a fine wine.
The second, less logical but more attractive approach, would be just to start every year on the same weekday, say Friday since that one is the best (it's not TGI Wednesday, is it?). Then after 365 days and ending on a Friday (or Saturday on leap years), the Friday would repeat to start the next year. New Year's would then always fall on a Friday, allowing 2 days for recovery before starting the next work week. It would be a little tricky at first to get used to, but at least you would always know what day of the week your birthday fell, or your anniversary, or Thanksgiving.
HOWEVER, if you are a thrifty consumer and you can get by with little or no planning for the first month of the year, your best bet is simply to wait out the Christmas sales and jump on these 99% markdowns this time of year. Unfortunately, as if planned by the publishers on their crisp lighthouse of the month wall adornment, most calendars do not include the January of the following year, quick to terminate the date tracking so as to ensure continued on-time, full price purchases around the holiday season. Some daily planners even make a point to remind you to buy the next edition, aptly situating an extra sheet or a note towards the end of the fall season.
No, grandma, what I would like from you next year is not the page-a-day look at wolves in the Alaskan wilderness, along with either the yearlong lack of interest as it sits on my desk or the guilt of throwing away the $12.99. Instead, just print me out an 8.5 x 11 sheet with January's dates (and my cousin's birthdays) marked, a note to hit the bookstores on January 28th, and $3. Then I can stay rightly organized up until I can score a good deal on an Eiffel Tower calendar of my own choice. Plus keep it out of the hands of the bums and intensive care patients who would probably just get frustrated by not making any daily progress anyway.
Saturday, January 28, 2012
Friday, January 27, 2012
3 Artists Within Reach
A psychologist might tell you that you can learn a lot about yourself, or others for that matter, by the clothes that they wear. Or the food that they eat. Or the music that they listen to. Today, in an uncalculated analysis, I'm going to share the art that is within my grasp. Stuff that if you are into Andy Rooney or any sort of pop culture you just may enjoy yourself.
1. Mundania Horvath: Probably the biggest influence on the design of this blog, other than the Blogger template books in the background. I don't know her personally, I only have a 4x6 postcard of one of her prints within clear eyeshot over my laptop. It's an eclectic but simple collage of the city of Pittsburgh which, for her, is aptly headlined "The City I live In". She has numerous additional works, a lot of it equally if not more visually impressive, on her website (linked off her name). There's a pleasantly industrious feel to her Steel City pieces, and all of her work seems carefully balanced with life, messages, and classic memorabilia. Plus a little tinge of calculation, as in perfectly straight lines or grid/ledger paper in some cases, enough to strike a subtle yet resounding chord with the nerds of the world.
2. StrawberryLuna: Again, another artist that I do not know personally (really, how often do you surround yourself with works by people you personally know?). This one is a print of a concert (bands not entirely relevant to the discussion other than I like them - so more apt for psycho-analysis by music). The artist I did meet in person years back, but with my memory I have no clue who he/she is or looks like now. And this info is readily available on their site, along with the tons of other fantastic original poster prints, some concerts, some just visually stunning and worthy of professional, vs. college dorm masking tape, framing. And that is exactly what I did with this print, custom-built the frame, for cost and dimensional reasons. Which is a great point in that a good frame, standard black or custom-made out of tea bags, can catapult just about any poster to wall-worthy status for years to come.
3. Eric Joyner: Eric Joyner is the mastermind behind Robots and Donuts, the eclectic prints depicting Rock'Em Sock'Em robots in endless global battles either with or using sometimes house-sized glazed donuts. The collection of hugely successful prints has spanned several years, creeping back into reality in all sorts of forms such as posters, mugs (like mine), and a book anthology. I could go on analyzing why or how this recipe actually captivates people, or just me for that matter, but that's an objective view and I really don't like to voice my opinion. Instead, I'll just say that the artwork is continually well-painted, tells a story, and captures Americana through both durable and delicious vices.
Those are my picks. Guess I can say now that I like pop art that blends the new with the old, and includes some elements of illogic. Or make that "non sequitur". Apparently "illogic" is not recognized as a word. But then I guess all the more reason to use the term both in type and in illustration.
1. Mundania Horvath: Probably the biggest influence on the design of this blog, other than the Blogger template books in the background. I don't know her personally, I only have a 4x6 postcard of one of her prints within clear eyeshot over my laptop. It's an eclectic but simple collage of the city of Pittsburgh which, for her, is aptly headlined "The City I live In". She has numerous additional works, a lot of it equally if not more visually impressive, on her website (linked off her name). There's a pleasantly industrious feel to her Steel City pieces, and all of her work seems carefully balanced with life, messages, and classic memorabilia. Plus a little tinge of calculation, as in perfectly straight lines or grid/ledger paper in some cases, enough to strike a subtle yet resounding chord with the nerds of the world.
2. StrawberryLuna: Again, another artist that I do not know personally (really, how often do you surround yourself with works by people you personally know?). This one is a print of a concert (bands not entirely relevant to the discussion other than I like them - so more apt for psycho-analysis by music). The artist I did meet in person years back, but with my memory I have no clue who he/she is or looks like now. And this info is readily available on their site, along with the tons of other fantastic original poster prints, some concerts, some just visually stunning and worthy of professional, vs. college dorm masking tape, framing. And that is exactly what I did with this print, custom-built the frame, for cost and dimensional reasons. Which is a great point in that a good frame, standard black or custom-made out of tea bags, can catapult just about any poster to wall-worthy status for years to come.
3. Eric Joyner: Eric Joyner is the mastermind behind Robots and Donuts, the eclectic prints depicting Rock'Em Sock'Em robots in endless global battles either with or using sometimes house-sized glazed donuts. The collection of hugely successful prints has spanned several years, creeping back into reality in all sorts of forms such as posters, mugs (like mine), and a book anthology. I could go on analyzing why or how this recipe actually captivates people, or just me for that matter, but that's an objective view and I really don't like to voice my opinion. Instead, I'll just say that the artwork is continually well-painted, tells a story, and captures Americana through both durable and delicious vices.
Those are my picks. Guess I can say now that I like pop art that blends the new with the old, and includes some elements of illogic. Or make that "non sequitur". Apparently "illogic" is not recognized as a word. But then I guess all the more reason to use the term both in type and in illustration.
Thursday, January 26, 2012
A Peeling
I find it appalling when people refuse to eat an entire potato when it is presented whole (baked, of course), specifically leaving the skin behind, but then do cartwheels over the mad potato skin appetizers at TGI Fridays or other neighborhood bar and grills. I understand sometimes the skin may exhibit localized non-conformances (i.e. sprouts), but this is no a reason to shrug off the entire peel. I think it may possibly be a class or societal mindset, as if when you are eating a baked potato whole then out of respect for the formal circumstances in which it may be served (wedding, bar mitzvah, or intervention) the polite act is to not eat the skin. Much like how you're expected not to slurp soup directly from a bowl or to spoon Slurpees from a cup.
I wonder if the potato skin industry arose out of people leaving these scraps behind on their plates. The chefs later realizing the huge opportunity when scads of skins came rolling back, perfectly scooped of their starchy entrails, ready to be filled with cheesy and bacony heaven then sent right back out again on a platter labeled as a Happetizer (TM). Because really, if you are going to try to convince somebody to eat something that they wouldn't normally, mounds of cheese and bacon will normally do the convincing. Hell, the mounds of butter and sour cream that the spud originally housed couldn't pull off the trick. But with cheese and bacon, well, look out!
The same disrespect carries into the mashed potato world, as well. Most people are turned off by the site of skin chunks mixed in with their creamy whipped side dish. Not me, I love them! I say the more the merrier! I would create a potato skin donation initiative just to fuel my obsession but I'm worried that this would place a huge and untimely burden on our already strapped US Postal Service. (Clarification: my mashed skins gotta be red, the gray ones, well, you can't really mash them very well due to physical limitations).
It's not like potato skins (peels, whatever) are anything that great by themselves. They counter the texture and taste of the contents inside and are meant to be enjoyed simultaneously. This means, don't just scoop out all the insides without touching the skins until the end. Because then you will surely never eat them. Much like how when you eat pizza, when you get close to the crust, save some saucy, cheesy border to be enjoyed while you munch on the end. No, so many people, many of them the same with potato skin bias, nibble all the way to the end then pitch the crust. If anything besides subtle disrespect for mother nature, this represents careless chow management.
However, despite the global disinterest in the hearty skin, one little part of the world, at least, still appreciates and eats them. Either that or the locals from neighboring communities thought it would be funny to label them as such. I speak of Donegal, PA (pronounced "den-a-gaul, pee eh"). According to my gram, who can be short on many thoughts these days but who is never short on wisdom, the old saying of this Appalachian stop off the PA turnpike goes "Donegal, where they eat the potato skins and all!" Honest. I've heard this numerous times from my family, who great up in the nearby towns but never in Donegal. I think this also came up in a impromptu internet search once, so that cements it as lore.
Maybe someday folks will all wake up and realize that, just like in Rudolph, there is a Land of Misfit Food Scraps, and that somewhere somebody (not necessarily from Appalachia) would still love to eat them. Then their true compassionate, and jealous, side would kick in and make them realize that they shouldn't let some stranger have their skins, that they should enjoy them all for themselves. And as a bonus, the gesture would finally grant them admission into the Clean Plate Club.
I wonder if the potato skin industry arose out of people leaving these scraps behind on their plates. The chefs later realizing the huge opportunity when scads of skins came rolling back, perfectly scooped of their starchy entrails, ready to be filled with cheesy and bacony heaven then sent right back out again on a platter labeled as a Happetizer (TM). Because really, if you are going to try to convince somebody to eat something that they wouldn't normally, mounds of cheese and bacon will normally do the convincing. Hell, the mounds of butter and sour cream that the spud originally housed couldn't pull off the trick. But with cheese and bacon, well, look out!
The same disrespect carries into the mashed potato world, as well. Most people are turned off by the site of skin chunks mixed in with their creamy whipped side dish. Not me, I love them! I say the more the merrier! I would create a potato skin donation initiative just to fuel my obsession but I'm worried that this would place a huge and untimely burden on our already strapped US Postal Service. (Clarification: my mashed skins gotta be red, the gray ones, well, you can't really mash them very well due to physical limitations).
It's not like potato skins (peels, whatever) are anything that great by themselves. They counter the texture and taste of the contents inside and are meant to be enjoyed simultaneously. This means, don't just scoop out all the insides without touching the skins until the end. Because then you will surely never eat them. Much like how when you eat pizza, when you get close to the crust, save some saucy, cheesy border to be enjoyed while you munch on the end. No, so many people, many of them the same with potato skin bias, nibble all the way to the end then pitch the crust. If anything besides subtle disrespect for mother nature, this represents careless chow management.
However, despite the global disinterest in the hearty skin, one little part of the world, at least, still appreciates and eats them. Either that or the locals from neighboring communities thought it would be funny to label them as such. I speak of Donegal, PA (pronounced "den-a-gaul, pee eh"). According to my gram, who can be short on many thoughts these days but who is never short on wisdom, the old saying of this Appalachian stop off the PA turnpike goes "Donegal, where they eat the potato skins and all!" Honest. I've heard this numerous times from my family, who great up in the nearby towns but never in Donegal. I think this also came up in a impromptu internet search once, so that cements it as lore.
Maybe someday folks will all wake up and realize that, just like in Rudolph, there is a Land of Misfit Food Scraps, and that somewhere somebody (not necessarily from Appalachia) would still love to eat them. Then their true compassionate, and jealous, side would kick in and make them realize that they shouldn't let some stranger have their skins, that they should enjoy them all for themselves. And as a bonus, the gesture would finally grant them admission into the Clean Plate Club.
Wednesday, January 25, 2012
3 Weekly 80's Radio Programs That Rock
(admittedly a classic "blog title" this time, in case anyone out there happens to Google the topic for reference)
If you're a fan of 80's music, you must be glad when your local station (be it rock, alternative, or pop) takes a couple hours off from the normal routine and reaches back into the archives for some classic new wave tracks. It's not quite the same as listening to XM's All 80's on 8, or New Wave Rock on 33. Just due to the constant volume of 80's those stations play they inevitably mix in lame Mike and the Mechanics (unless you dig their only track) alongside Depeche Mode. No, when your local stations take a break, they go for a purpose. Whether for a theme, artist tribute, or kick-ass mix. And that's when your love turns to fascination. Which, thanks to technology, can be streamed from some of the best sources worldwide to anywhere you want to jam.
The following are just a select smattering of programs that I elect to indulge for their continued quality:
New Wave Wednesday 7-9AM (WBER Rochester): Host Jenny wakes you early with some familiar and some obscure tracks, paired nicely with her personal experiences from that decade. She usually selects a general theme (recent ones being "life" and "eyes"), then selects great songs from that era that encompass or literally include those terms. It's always nice when somebody is equally or more amped up about a tune then you are, and her broad knowledge and fascination from that era ensures you will normally hear 1 or 2 tunes for the first time, usually great ones. Admittedly, though, she strays a little outside the exact 80's era. But this is viewed as an objective benefit to the show (and the listeners) since who says great, nostalgic music has to be perfectly normalized across a 10 year span as long as it captures the right vibe?
Save the Wave Mix Thursday 7-9AM (local time)(C89.5 FM Seattle): DJ Trent Von mashes 2 hours of great music, some that you could never imagine tapping your foot to. Fortunately, since this level of production requires upfront effort, the original mixes (of which there are several) are generally recorded and available for distribution, most easily by donating to the high school run (yes, high school) public station during their fundraising campaigns. Which, if you do, they normally keep the music playing up to an extra hour after the normal time slot (9AM west coast, or 12 PM east coast). This also as a tribute to the wide audience pledging support specifically for the show.
Prehistoric X Sunday 8-11AM (105.9 WXDX Pittsburgh): The only program of the bunch that is based on a commercial station, replete with ads (by comparison only, there really aren't too many commercials on a Sunday morning). Whip is the usual host and he picks an artist to feature for the duration of the show, playing some known and some deep tracks from popular acts like The Police, Squeeze, or even Bob Marley. Of course, he also mixes in other great tunes in between the featured artist, and includes great up-to-date facts about the bands, the lead singers, and when and where they might even be playing next (if still playing). It's great to focus on a specific artist, especially amongst other classic acts of the era, and Whip also throws in his personal memories from time-to-time, hardly shedding any light on his age.
Well, those are my favorites, discovered partly by residence, vacation, and internet searching. And you should by now expect to simply be able to search any of the call letters and find a free, live stream for listening online. Which you can. Enjoy.
If you're a fan of 80's music, you must be glad when your local station (be it rock, alternative, or pop) takes a couple hours off from the normal routine and reaches back into the archives for some classic new wave tracks. It's not quite the same as listening to XM's All 80's on 8, or New Wave Rock on 33. Just due to the constant volume of 80's those stations play they inevitably mix in lame Mike and the Mechanics (unless you dig their only track) alongside Depeche Mode. No, when your local stations take a break, they go for a purpose. Whether for a theme, artist tribute, or kick-ass mix. And that's when your love turns to fascination. Which, thanks to technology, can be streamed from some of the best sources worldwide to anywhere you want to jam.
The following are just a select smattering of programs that I elect to indulge for their continued quality:
New Wave Wednesday 7-9AM (WBER Rochester): Host Jenny wakes you early with some familiar and some obscure tracks, paired nicely with her personal experiences from that decade. She usually selects a general theme (recent ones being "life" and "eyes"), then selects great songs from that era that encompass or literally include those terms. It's always nice when somebody is equally or more amped up about a tune then you are, and her broad knowledge and fascination from that era ensures you will normally hear 1 or 2 tunes for the first time, usually great ones. Admittedly, though, she strays a little outside the exact 80's era. But this is viewed as an objective benefit to the show (and the listeners) since who says great, nostalgic music has to be perfectly normalized across a 10 year span as long as it captures the right vibe?
Save the Wave Mix Thursday 7-9AM (local time)(C89.5 FM Seattle): DJ Trent Von mashes 2 hours of great music, some that you could never imagine tapping your foot to. Fortunately, since this level of production requires upfront effort, the original mixes (of which there are several) are generally recorded and available for distribution, most easily by donating to the high school run (yes, high school) public station during their fundraising campaigns. Which, if you do, they normally keep the music playing up to an extra hour after the normal time slot (9AM west coast, or 12 PM east coast). This also as a tribute to the wide audience pledging support specifically for the show.
Prehistoric X Sunday 8-11AM (105.9 WXDX Pittsburgh): The only program of the bunch that is based on a commercial station, replete with ads (by comparison only, there really aren't too many commercials on a Sunday morning). Whip is the usual host and he picks an artist to feature for the duration of the show, playing some known and some deep tracks from popular acts like The Police, Squeeze, or even Bob Marley. Of course, he also mixes in other great tunes in between the featured artist, and includes great up-to-date facts about the bands, the lead singers, and when and where they might even be playing next (if still playing). It's great to focus on a specific artist, especially amongst other classic acts of the era, and Whip also throws in his personal memories from time-to-time, hardly shedding any light on his age.
Well, those are my favorites, discovered partly by residence, vacation, and internet searching. And you should by now expect to simply be able to search any of the call letters and find a free, live stream for listening online. Which you can. Enjoy.
Tuesday, January 24, 2012
Si and Non Sequitur
Since my memory is as big as my unit, I might as well capture a lesson learned along the writing path via a carved-in-stone post. This one doesn't involve a technique or any particular advice from another writer, just simply a definition that I have the hardest time recalling. Does that ever happen to you? Say a word or phrase that you seem to want to use in certain occasions but that you're not quite sure of the context so you double check with a quick search? My guess would be this happens to all writers, hence elevating the dictionary, any of it's infinitely evolving forms, as the greatest resource ever. Like the greatest, greatest.
The phrase under examination is "non sequitur". A phrase, apparently, that the blog software fails to recognize as legitimate in it's existence. This lack of reassurance in spelling is what commonly tips me off to "I don't know what the hell I'm talking about", before I get the secondary notion from my girlfriend or anyone with 2 cents to spare. But in this case, the phrase is legitimate, and spelled correctly, the problem is that it is spelled in a foreign, non-existent Latino language. But that still doesn't help me, since evidently my primary choice of speech is English with a slight hint 'nat of Pittsburghese.
I've seen, perhaps even used, the term before in the past, but I can't say that I truly embraced or understood it, much like how Mitt Romney claims to be part Mexican (but he is). My first encounters would have been in 6th grade Latin, where everything you learn at that age later becomes an "Oh yeah, I was aware of that crusade" or "I've heard of that explorer", but nothing fruitful sticks unless you make a career out of it or can pass for being a savant. Hence the basis for the hit game show "Are You Smarter Than a 5th Grader?" with it's astonishing pint-size victors.
Later encounters would have been in high school in the extra-curricular "Propaganda" activity, where teams from different schools watched video clips of news and entertainment media then remark on the specific ways in which our minds were being shaped. I think there were 8 categories to choose from (why I remember this and not the meaning of the phrase, beats me, may have been due to the fact that the definition was always in front of us, so we didn't have to write it down or bother memorizing it). One of them was "non sequitur". Anyway, I'm not a big fan of categorizing things that make me laugh, at least not per the categories presented. Though there was a hilarious clip I'll never forget. It was an SNL skit mocking Canon camera commercials that normally included action sequences and endorsements from popular tennis stars. Except this one cast Stevie Wonder as the photographer. The crooked, out of focus shots of random body parts and surroundings were amazing. Perhaps, then, an example of a non ocular vice at work.
Fast forward to the last few years, where the term hardly ever comes up in an office full of technical geeks and AA's. Which is surprising since office culture generally thrives on lack of logic. Another great entertainment example being Office Space. There is also a great daily cartoon that goes by the title Non Sequitur, a pseudo-political cartoon that carefully balances the witty opinion with charm. (And it's well illustrated, unlike Marmaduke.) From these musings, alone, I gather the term to mean intentionally offbeat humor. But I'm still not 100% sure, so I consult old Websters:
Ah yes, now I recall! It makes no sense! Except it seems like Webster could do one more over in making it's point by adding a 3rd definition such as "3. popular conclusion to a taco order where the request is made to hold the cheese". But see nobody would ever actually order a taco that way so that would be the illogical part.
I'm sure I'll forget the meaning again, like I do with most elitist phrases that are excessively verbose or exotic and could just as well save on misunderstandings as it could on printed ink. Just think, "silly". That just about sums up Non Sequitur, and it makes a shitload more sense to most people than the latter.
The phrase under examination is "non sequitur". A phrase, apparently, that the blog software fails to recognize as legitimate in it's existence. This lack of reassurance in spelling is what commonly tips me off to "I don't know what the hell I'm talking about", before I get the secondary notion from my girlfriend or anyone with 2 cents to spare. But in this case, the phrase is legitimate, and spelled correctly, the problem is that it is spelled in a foreign, non-existent Latino language. But that still doesn't help me, since evidently my primary choice of speech is English with a slight hint 'nat of Pittsburghese.
I've seen, perhaps even used, the term before in the past, but I can't say that I truly embraced or understood it, much like how Mitt Romney claims to be part Mexican (but he is). My first encounters would have been in 6th grade Latin, where everything you learn at that age later becomes an "Oh yeah, I was aware of that crusade" or "I've heard of that explorer", but nothing fruitful sticks unless you make a career out of it or can pass for being a savant. Hence the basis for the hit game show "Are You Smarter Than a 5th Grader?" with it's astonishing pint-size victors.
Later encounters would have been in high school in the extra-curricular "Propaganda" activity, where teams from different schools watched video clips of news and entertainment media then remark on the specific ways in which our minds were being shaped. I think there were 8 categories to choose from (why I remember this and not the meaning of the phrase, beats me, may have been due to the fact that the definition was always in front of us, so we didn't have to write it down or bother memorizing it). One of them was "non sequitur". Anyway, I'm not a big fan of categorizing things that make me laugh, at least not per the categories presented. Though there was a hilarious clip I'll never forget. It was an SNL skit mocking Canon camera commercials that normally included action sequences and endorsements from popular tennis stars. Except this one cast Stevie Wonder as the photographer. The crooked, out of focus shots of random body parts and surroundings were amazing. Perhaps, then, an example of a non ocular vice at work.
Fast forward to the last few years, where the term hardly ever comes up in an office full of technical geeks and AA's. Which is surprising since office culture generally thrives on lack of logic. Another great entertainment example being Office Space. There is also a great daily cartoon that goes by the title Non Sequitur, a pseudo-political cartoon that carefully balances the witty opinion with charm. (And it's well illustrated, unlike Marmaduke.) From these musings, alone, I gather the term to mean intentionally offbeat humor. But I'm still not 100% sure, so I consult old Websters:
1. Logic . an inference or a conclusion that does not follow from the premises.
2. a statement containing an illogical conclusion.
Ah yes, now I recall! It makes no sense! Except it seems like Webster could do one more over in making it's point by adding a 3rd definition such as "3. popular conclusion to a taco order where the request is made to hold the cheese". But see nobody would ever actually order a taco that way so that would be the illogical part.
I'm sure I'll forget the meaning again, like I do with most elitist phrases that are excessively verbose or exotic and could just as well save on misunderstandings as it could on printed ink. Just think, "silly". That just about sums up Non Sequitur, and it makes a shitload more sense to most people than the latter.
Monday, January 23, 2012
Testing
Don't mind the mess here but I need to run some maintenance on the font sizes.
smallest
small
normal
large
largest
Thanks. I recently updated the blogger software, per their request, and upon going about my regular habits of choosing the "small" font size, I see that my posts appear to print out to a larger size on the public blog. It's not a big deal, except the text reads exceptionally large, filling out the page more than it previously did. Yes, I'm aware that multiple factors influence this appearance, including my screen resolution, browser, and blog template, but it's slightly annoying when there is no real convention being used by the posting software, conventions like font size given in number vs. adjective. (Yes, I see the option to "Edit HTML", but that shouldn't be necessary for most print jobs- since despite all the luxuries in viewing photos and videos, we still depend on the words first and foremost. And if you disagree try spending more than 2 minutes on a non-porn Asian site.)
You might think that an innocuous presentation detail like font size is exactly that, innocuous. It probably is in this context, and the attention to detail on my part may be more of a minor compulsion than quality check. But it is this precise attention to detail and consistency which welcomes repeat business, whether you're a blogger, news reporter, or soda pop maker.
Just imagine if, while reading a book, the font size changed from page to page, word to word, or even letter to letter. You'd likely lose immediate interest in the story if this continued throughout. Which is unfortunate since, unless it was an intentional vice on the part of the author, the message was not being distorted, it was the quality of delivery that was influencing the reception. Luckily, there is little risk that font style or size will arbitrarily change in a published text. But the unless you actually inspect you can't be 100% sure, now can you?
One thing that can arbitrarily change is text and photo alignment. Notably in newspapers. And you can notice this when sometimes the temperature contour of the National weather map bleeds a little over into the New Moon forecast. Perhaps indicating that it might reach 60 degrees on the big ball of cheese. To prevent this, the papers utilize a mix of automated and manual overchecks, and evidence of this can be seen in the form of little colored squares usually tucked into an unread corner of the paper, like the editorials. Without these quality checks, reading the paper could require summoning your magic eyes (for those who can do it) or a non-Avatar set of 3-D glasses.
The last quality check I wanted to mention, mostly since I saw it a few months back and it stuck with me, was Coke cans. A tremendous amount of engineering and design goes into aluminum cans, in general, enough to make an engineer sprout another cowlick. But with Coke, perhaps like most solid brands, inspection demands 100% compliance. In particular every single can's color. Yes, the trademark (not using it as an adjective, it is actually trademarked) Coke shade of red, after it is applied to each can, is inspected to ensure it matches the correct standard. No, there isn't a line of elderly women around who hold up Behr paint cards comparing between "Ruby Paste" and "Lemming Blood". The inspection takes less than a second as of each of thousands of cans rapidly slide past an automatic camera. And just as quickly, the camera relays the information to a computer and back again, allowing an equally fast discharge of non-compliant cans from the assembly line. It may seem like overkill, as well, but the psychology of brand consistency is not.
And brand consistency extends far beyond traditional red-irons planted into a horse's hindquarters. However the concept shares similarities in the toughness and durability of the heavy, iron tool delivering the mark. Whether producing a cola, issuing a daily paper, or cranking out daily online article, consistency in the delivery is a value in itself.
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Thanks. I recently updated the blogger software, per their request, and upon going about my regular habits of choosing the "small" font size, I see that my posts appear to print out to a larger size on the public blog. It's not a big deal, except the text reads exceptionally large, filling out the page more than it previously did. Yes, I'm aware that multiple factors influence this appearance, including my screen resolution, browser, and blog template, but it's slightly annoying when there is no real convention being used by the posting software, conventions like font size given in number vs. adjective. (Yes, I see the option to "Edit HTML", but that shouldn't be necessary for most print jobs- since despite all the luxuries in viewing photos and videos, we still depend on the words first and foremost. And if you disagree try spending more than 2 minutes on a non-porn Asian site.)
You might think that an innocuous presentation detail like font size is exactly that, innocuous. It probably is in this context, and the attention to detail on my part may be more of a minor compulsion than quality check. But it is this precise attention to detail and consistency which welcomes repeat business, whether you're a blogger, news reporter, or soda pop maker.
Just imagine if, while reading a book, the font size changed from page to page, word to word, or even letter to letter. You'd likely lose immediate interest in the story if this continued throughout. Which is unfortunate since, unless it was an intentional vice on the part of the author, the message was not being distorted, it was the quality of delivery that was influencing the reception. Luckily, there is little risk that font style or size will arbitrarily change in a published text. But the unless you actually inspect you can't be 100% sure, now can you?
One thing that can arbitrarily change is text and photo alignment. Notably in newspapers. And you can notice this when sometimes the temperature contour of the National weather map bleeds a little over into the New Moon forecast. Perhaps indicating that it might reach 60 degrees on the big ball of cheese. To prevent this, the papers utilize a mix of automated and manual overchecks, and evidence of this can be seen in the form of little colored squares usually tucked into an unread corner of the paper, like the editorials. Without these quality checks, reading the paper could require summoning your magic eyes (for those who can do it) or a non-Avatar set of 3-D glasses.
The last quality check I wanted to mention, mostly since I saw it a few months back and it stuck with me, was Coke cans. A tremendous amount of engineering and design goes into aluminum cans, in general, enough to make an engineer sprout another cowlick. But with Coke, perhaps like most solid brands, inspection demands 100% compliance. In particular every single can's color. Yes, the trademark (not using it as an adjective, it is actually trademarked) Coke shade of red, after it is applied to each can, is inspected to ensure it matches the correct standard. No, there isn't a line of elderly women around who hold up Behr paint cards comparing between "Ruby Paste" and "Lemming Blood". The inspection takes less than a second as of each of thousands of cans rapidly slide past an automatic camera. And just as quickly, the camera relays the information to a computer and back again, allowing an equally fast discharge of non-compliant cans from the assembly line. It may seem like overkill, as well, but the psychology of brand consistency is not.
And brand consistency extends far beyond traditional red-irons planted into a horse's hindquarters. However the concept shares similarities in the toughness and durability of the heavy, iron tool delivering the mark. Whether producing a cola, issuing a daily paper, or cranking out daily online article, consistency in the delivery is a value in itself.
Sunday, January 22, 2012
Neighbors
What makes a neighbor? Do you have to live next to somebody to be their neighbor? Where does the radius extend? By definition, the term neighbor invites exclusivity, since if you don't live close enough, you're not in the club. But the term also invites friendly and welcoming gratitude, despite physical location. Certainly the term can be reduced to the proximity-only meaning, as in describing loud, unruly, or obnoxious neighbors. But these clauses specifically depend on negative character traits to offset the inherent positive nature of the word. No, the term "neighbor" represents more than physical proximity, it embodies a shared sense of togetherness despite, yet thriving on, our individual differences. A term, and message, at the heart of one of the world's most beloved neighbors, Mr. Rogers.
It's hard for me to appreciate the true extent of Mr. Rogers' national, perhaps global, reach. I always watched him on Channel 13 either right before or right after Sesame Street. As a kid, you don't have much geographic sense, but you can generally deduce that something like Sesame Street is mostly a conjured up physical pretext for an entertaining and educational program. There is no actual "Sesame Street" (although there is a kick-ass theme park, neat Philly I believe, called Sesame Place). You can also readily deduce that there isn't much benefit from searching for the Lost City of Atlantis or The Land of Make Believe, as magical and perfect both promise to be. But what got me was in not considering the possibility that Mr. Rogers Neighborhood was real and very close by. And, at times, only a stone's throw away.
Honestly, I've frequented several neighborhoods in my days, averaging a brisk 3.1 years at each primary residence (not counting college dorms). But it was my college years that brought me the closest, physically, to the red-sweatered icon. However, I never had the chance to actually meet the man. Rumors circulated about where he actually lived (an out-of-place affluent apartment building next to a college campus and park- I haven't confirmed this). And it was also clear where the television studio was located, the call-letters WQED modestly displayed outside what could have passed as a Frank Lloyd Wright-eqsue bomb shelter on Fifth Avenue in Oakland. This was only a short walk from the supposed apartment building, and both locations perfectly surrounded by universities, frisbee-friendly greenery, elegant churches and synagogues, and personal residences traceable to 20th century steel magnates.
But the message so warmly presented by Mr. Rogers to his faithful under-10 following was just one of the larger neighborly messages that could be observed in this hood. The station WQED, for instance, represented the very first community-sponsored station in the country. A result of the recognition of the area's leaders that in order to build a stronger community, positive messages needed to be initiated using the most popular evolving medium of the time: television. WQED also went on to produce several other locally and nationally-acclaimed programs, several of which were produced by America's second neighbor, Rick Sebak. A genuine, jovial fan and curator of everything Americana, from diners to amusement parks, to ice cream and Route 66, Rick Sebak shares a pleasant and contagious enthusiasm for everybody's story. As well as everybody's guilty dining pleasures. This I've actually had the fortune of witnessing in our once shared neighborhood coffee shop, Katerbean. (note, coffee shops and neighborhoods make for great Sebak specials and future Rooney articles).
Looking back at just this small sampling of friendly, community-driven outreach, I realize that I have been more than fortunate to classify these gentlemen, and institution, as my neighbors in the predominantly local sense. However, with no direct obligation of reciprocity, other than a profession to "be their neighbor", I conclude that fulfilling my neighborly duties is a little more involved than actually relocating. In fact, the term "neighbor" mostly applies when describing someone else, from the first-person point of view, but hardly one's self, from somebody else's shoes. To be a good neighbor, one has to step back and consider how they are viewed from the eyes of the folks next door. Or just give more than a second thought to the question of "Won't you be my neighbor?"
It's hard for me to appreciate the true extent of Mr. Rogers' national, perhaps global, reach. I always watched him on Channel 13 either right before or right after Sesame Street. As a kid, you don't have much geographic sense, but you can generally deduce that something like Sesame Street is mostly a conjured up physical pretext for an entertaining and educational program. There is no actual "Sesame Street" (although there is a kick-ass theme park, neat Philly I believe, called Sesame Place). You can also readily deduce that there isn't much benefit from searching for the Lost City of Atlantis or The Land of Make Believe, as magical and perfect both promise to be. But what got me was in not considering the possibility that Mr. Rogers Neighborhood was real and very close by. And, at times, only a stone's throw away.
Honestly, I've frequented several neighborhoods in my days, averaging a brisk 3.1 years at each primary residence (not counting college dorms). But it was my college years that brought me the closest, physically, to the red-sweatered icon. However, I never had the chance to actually meet the man. Rumors circulated about where he actually lived (an out-of-place affluent apartment building next to a college campus and park- I haven't confirmed this). And it was also clear where the television studio was located, the call-letters WQED modestly displayed outside what could have passed as a Frank Lloyd Wright-eqsue bomb shelter on Fifth Avenue in Oakland. This was only a short walk from the supposed apartment building, and both locations perfectly surrounded by universities, frisbee-friendly greenery, elegant churches and synagogues, and personal residences traceable to 20th century steel magnates.
But the message so warmly presented by Mr. Rogers to his faithful under-10 following was just one of the larger neighborly messages that could be observed in this hood. The station WQED, for instance, represented the very first community-sponsored station in the country. A result of the recognition of the area's leaders that in order to build a stronger community, positive messages needed to be initiated using the most popular evolving medium of the time: television. WQED also went on to produce several other locally and nationally-acclaimed programs, several of which were produced by America's second neighbor, Rick Sebak. A genuine, jovial fan and curator of everything Americana, from diners to amusement parks, to ice cream and Route 66, Rick Sebak shares a pleasant and contagious enthusiasm for everybody's story. As well as everybody's guilty dining pleasures. This I've actually had the fortune of witnessing in our once shared neighborhood coffee shop, Katerbean. (note, coffee shops and neighborhoods make for great Sebak specials and future Rooney articles).
Looking back at just this small sampling of friendly, community-driven outreach, I realize that I have been more than fortunate to classify these gentlemen, and institution, as my neighbors in the predominantly local sense. However, with no direct obligation of reciprocity, other than a profession to "be their neighbor", I conclude that fulfilling my neighborly duties is a little more involved than actually relocating. In fact, the term "neighbor" mostly applies when describing someone else, from the first-person point of view, but hardly one's self, from somebody else's shoes. To be a good neighbor, one has to step back and consider how they are viewed from the eyes of the folks next door. Or just give more than a second thought to the question of "Won't you be my neighbor?"
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