Today [Jan 20] Clarence turned off expanded cable. (Don’t know who Uncle Grandpa is? Count yourself lucky).

Uncle Grandpa

I now get local, some Chicago, and over-the-air digital. No CNN, ESPN, Discovery, etc.

I still do get EWTN, which I tune in occasionally.

CNN streams over the Internet and all the major networks stream the biggest breaking news. No need to pay twice for it.

My little girl will miss Sprout and Cartoon Network (but I won’t; don’t know who Uncle Grandpa is? Count yourself lucky.)

Room Full of Monsters | Uncle Grandpa | Cartoon Network

[2014-01-20]

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What in the world is a “polar vortex” and why should I care?

This is a polar vortex; it's cold air that goes around in circles.

Recently the major news networks began reporting on a “polar vortex” that was responsible for the recent cold snaps we are seeing here in the Midwest.

Now, call me crazy, but I’ll bet this isn’t the first time there’s been a polar vortex, and it sure isn’t the first time it’s gotten cold in the Midwest during winter.

In my day they called it an “arctic front.” What’s wrong with that? It easy to pronounce and makes a great marketing spins, like “arctic orange shakes.”

I suppose if the vortex terminology sticks, we’ll have new sweet sensations to go along with it. Instead of a McFlurry, I’ll be able to order a McVortex. (If you’ve ever watched them make a McFlurry, “vortex” is a lot closer to the truth.)

[2014-01-20]

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R.I.P. Reuben Kincaid and Prof Roy Hinkley (a couple of the good guys).

Dave Madden as Reuben Kincaid on the Partridge Family

Both Dave Madden (Reuben Kincaid on The Partridge Family) and Russell Johnson (Professor Roy Hinkley on Gilligan's Island) died today, January 16th, 2014.

Dave Madden was a Christian and did some Christian radio shows, including the character of Bernard Walton on Adventures in Odyssey. You can see the show’s tribute to him here, “Dave Madden: Actor & Friend (December 17, 1931 - January 16, 2014” >

Good for him.

Russell Johnson as The Professor (Prof Roy Hinkley) on Gilligan's Island

Something you may not know about The Professor: Russell Johnson had a gay son at a time when it was difficult to come out out of the closet, even in Hollywood (especially in Hollywood - remember Rock Hudson?), and he publicly supported his son.

Good for him.

[2014-01-16]

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Zenith ad for Chromacolor TV; this is how TVs were advertised when I was a boy

I was fond of both of these characters and actors. They were regular guests in my living room for years.

If you’re under a certain age, you don’t remember what it was like to see a show only once a week during first run and then once again in reruns through the summer. There were no DVRs, HULU or Youtube, no day-long marathons, not even two shows back to back, though sometimes they would turn an hour drama into a 2-hour movie, or a 30-minute sitcom into a 1-hour special, which were rare and welcome.

Actors and actresses were guests in our homes, people we cared about and made time for. They weren’t quirks of humanity who happened to have a camera following them around. They were like us, only better, had more of our good qualities, fewer of the bad, and they had consciences, and changed people around them.

There used to be more good guys. More living room heroes.

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I am forever harassed by anxiety amidst generosity.

Chiclets Tiny Size flavor coated gum

Yesterday I wrote about a college recruiter calling me do to lunch and that I all too briefly enjoyed an inflated opinion of myself. The unspoken subtext in my head after the light went on was something like, “You dimwit, you didn't really think she cared about YOU, did you? How naive can you be?”

A long time ago when I was very little, I was in the upstairs of a friend’s house. He gave me a small pouch of bubble gum, the sort that was chopped into small pieces and coated with candy.

The boy’s father came upstairs after work to say hello to us and saw that his son had given it to me. The father ripped it from my hands and handed it back to his son, saying something to the effect “That’s not for you. I don’t work my ass off to buy stuff so my kids can give it away.”

I have since then been very anxious about receiving or partaking, fearing I would again take something that wasn’t intended for me. It may have been a contributing factor to me avoiding communion for most of my adult life.

And it may sound trivial, but it’s as intrusive as anxiety or myopia, except instead of being a constant nuisance managed with pills or lenses, it lurks at social events like a piece of cheese in a mousetrap.

I am forever harassed by anxiety amidst generosity.

[2014-01-15]

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We most often are only flattering ourselves.

Tragic mask on the façade of the Royal Dramatic Theatre in Stockholm

I find that once I write about a topic, my creative mind continues to spend a lot of time there even when my practical mind has moved on. I recently recounted an evening at Calvin College from my freshman year (Dark Night of the Scarecrow: My Brother's Pizza & Calvin College, 1981 >), and since then have been returning to Bolt Hall and inspecting little details - the corners, the doors and door handles, the texture of the cinder block walls.

I always daydreamed of going back to Calvin and speaking words of wisdom to fresh faces wondering at their role in the world.

But there is not much “I am Calvin and so can you” in my daydreams anymore; I am rather the Carl Bajema[1] of aging graduates who suspects prescient students imagine themselves to be like me 30 years hence, looking back fondly at simpler days when we thought we’d be fresh forever.

But why this subject today?

I was called by Calvin College when my son approached college age and was applying to different schools. A Calvin rep wanted to do lunch. Since this was the first time this had happened to me, I wasn’t connecting the dots, and I thought I was being sought out because of what I do for a living.

No.

Like nearly every other flattering event we encounter, it’s most often not what we first think it is. Even so, for that moment, we are something more special to ourselves than we were the moment before.

[2014-01-12]

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Hugh Hefner and friends

[1]

Carl Bajema is GVSU professor emeritus of biology. He used to speak annually at an Interim class at Calvin called CPOL (Christian Perspectives on Learning). That was a required class in which I was introduced to, among other things, the Playboy Philosophy. I took the class as an upperclassman to complete the requirement, but most students got it out ot the way in their freshman year.

Among the outspoken and challenging speakers Calvin presented was atheist Carl Bajema. I listened in contemplative amusement as he poked and prodded freshman into angry indignation; they no doubt wondered why the Christian college they were paying was paying this guy to yell at them, and more’s the pity, such a good Dutch name, too.

I liked his talk, even though I disagreed with him then, and still do.

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Blessed are the hungry (and $12 is still a lot of money).

Typical fare at a smorgasbord
buffet-style restaurant

While dining at a smorgasbord-type restaurant recently, I was struck with a realization that sounded internally something like “These are my neighbors.”

The simple people, the type the word “folks” was invented for, and jeans and house frocks and red plaid flannel and other wonderfully comfortable things.

The halting and limping, broken and tired

in the worn burnished yellow lacy Sunday going-out-to-eat blouse

and the one jacket and pair of trousers that go to church and funerals and weddings.

The babies in strollers,

toddlers in high chairs

and little ones with chocolate on their lips and ice cream in their laps.

The hungry, the poor, the sad and meek and merciful and pure and peaceful people

with full stomachs

on $12.

That’s still a lot of money.

[2014-01-08]

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This went through a lot of versions.

I have trouble balancing the need for moderation against the simple pleasure most of us take in sitting down to abundance. We overeat when we do that, but there is something wonderfully satisfying about fullness and friendship where spills and tears don’t matter too much.

I am uncomfortable in fancy restaurants. I don’t like them and don’t like the food and attitudes toward food they encourage.

Right or wrong, doesn't matter, that’s me.

After my funeral ya’ll go to Golden Corral or someplace and dip a strawberry in the chocolate fountain for me. Or go to a hoity toity spot and order a well done filet mignon, and when it comes back pink, send it back and tell the chef to get it right this time.

[2014-01-14]

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Small lesson, big impression. (Dad, Grandma, tulip bulbs.)

The Event

I am very little (couldn't have been more than 6), sitting in the back seat of the car with my brother while Dad says goodbye to Grandma Cairns.

Grandma offers Dad a box of tulip bulbs.

Dad thanks her and says no, he doesn’t think so; she insists and he politely declines a second time, and we say goodbye and drive off.

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The Lesson

I asked Dad why he didn’t take them. “They were free,” I said.

He responded: “Because we didn’t need them.”

[2014-01-08]

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Mimi reflected in a cross.

 

No lesson here, just an interesting moment in time.

 

[2014-01-12]

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Why “Clarence” ?

A long time ago when I was testing a competing retailer's digital photo developing program, I invented a fake name and disposable email to avoid anyone connecting me with my company. I don’t know how it came to me, it may have been the season, but I chose Clarence Oddbody.

This was in the early days of ecommerce and I used that name and disposable email a lot. I got so accustomed to thinking of myself as Clarence, when I later wanted a social nom de plume, it was the first thing that came to mind.

And I thought, Why not?

Clarence is simple, gentle, likable, unflagging, unflappable and utterly ordinary.

All things (among others) I aspire to be.

[2014-01-09]

(Via Linux and Blogger's native editor; wow, what a mess. Free is hard work.)

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Take Ex-Lax in the AM for a BM in the PM

We are in Ken and family's 70’s era van complete with wood paneled interior and bright blue shag carpet. Ken is driving. Dad is next to him in the passenger’s bucket seat.

Me, Tom and Tom Tom are in the passenger seat behind them. Carolee, Dee Dee and Linda are in the seat behind us.

Dad is smirking at Ken’s keychain fob, which reads:

    “Take Ex-Lax in the AM for a BM in the PM”

I was 12-ish at the time, but I still think that’s funny.

[2014-01-09]

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It… was… food poisoning…

There’s nothing like a hot shower after two days of vomiting and diarrhea.

[2014-01-11]

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It may look like a duck and quack like a duck but not be a duck.

What appears to be hypocrisy is not always a matter of saying one thing and doing another; we are sometimes compelled by circumstances to respond one way when our minds say something else.

Example: A father whose daughter is raped shouldn’t be on the jury. But neither should we call him a hypocrite for promoting one’s civic duty while at the same time wanting to kill the guy on trial.

Other examples of things that are not hypocrisy:

* Asking your children to eat baked salmon and broccoli even though you despise it.

* Cleaning up your appearance and language for work or church or other public places.

* Tolerating alternative lifestyles that you don’t embrace yourself.

* Telling others not to make the same mistakes you did.

Real hypocrisy is just expecting behavior from others we aren’t willing to model ourselves. If we can corral others in sufficient numbers, we can do what we want when no one’s looking.

And there is a difference between private behavior that remains private because it’s personal, and private behavior that remains private because it’s abusive or illegal or dangerous.

[2013-02-03]

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I truly had nothing and no one in mind. If I did, it has long since evaporated when I jotted these thoughts down nearly a year ago.

[2014-01-08]

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Grace Notes: Most of the time, most customer mistakes are not the fault of the customer

When I was an undergrad (Calvin College, Grand Rapids, MI), the company that makes Sunlight dish detergent mailed sample packets to homes in a direct mail campaign.

Sunlight Dish Detergent

This was circa 1984 and the retail Sunlight packaging looked something like the picture on the right.

In those days, only food came in packets; we were used to getting ketchup, mustard and salad dressings this way, and so conditioned to respond to this packaging as food.

In 1984 when the Sunlight makers conducted this campaign, they discovered that some people were putting their dish detergent on their salads.

Marketing Rule: Most of the time, most customer mistakes are not the fault of the customer, but the instruction they received.

This goes for children, students, parishioners, employees, and just about  every other analogous situation.

And what of the remainder who won’t sing the same bar no matter what you do? They need special instruction, as all of us have needed with something on some occasion.

A pouch of Kraft Salad Dressing

I know very smart adults who can’t tie their shoes (they grew up in the age of Velcro sneakers). I know very mart adults who have to think about which hand is their left or right, repeat things like “righty tighty, lefty loosey”, or don’t know their times tables.

The great American author Truman Capote (my all-time favorite) couldn't recite the alphabet.

Greatness (and plain old competence) is often graced with small faults like these.

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I personally am terrible at directions. Never ask me which way West is. I’ll have to mentally stop, turn my body North and imagine myself on a map in order to orient myself. I’ve been the butt of many jokes on account of this. I am also a horrible athlete, musician, and accountant (put a dollar sign in front of a number and my eyes glaze over).

There are plenty of people who get paid handsomely to be good athletes, musicians, and accountants. Why do I have to be one?

[2013-01-03]

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