Tuesday, August 25, 2009

Hello, Oven? It's Phone. Now Let's Get Cooking!

My favorite headline of the month, so far, about a man whose cell phone kept turning on his oven, incinerating the stored contents. “……He laid the phone next to the stove. They dialed it. Suddenly, the electronic control on the stovetop beeped. The digital display changed from a clock to the word ‘high.’ As the phone was ringing, the broiler was heating up.”  Certain Maytag models are vulnerable. Thanks, NYT.


Monday, August 24, 2009

Man receives cornea transplant; can’t stop housecleaning. This fine Monday morning my RSS feed at work brings the following. “A British man who had a cornea transplant jokes that he must have received the ‘cornea of a woman.’ His partner used to pester him to do housework but he says, ‘Because of my new eyesight I now notice every speck of dust and dirt and immediately want to clean it up. There is a reason why men don't clean normally and I think it's because we just don't see the dirt. But since the transplant I now see it wherever I go. I'm always hoovering, dusting and washing.’ Dr. Mathew Raynor, consultant ophthalmologist at Sheffield's Royal Hallamshire Hospital where the surgery was done, puts it in perspective: ‘Organ donation really is the ultimate gift.’” I don’t know if the person who gets my corneas will be as inspired. Full story from The Sun. One of their other news stories of the day: Two couples went back to the Stone Age for double Flintstones-themed wedding. Weekly World News is back?

Wednesday, August 19, 2009

Blogger Boing Boing is more prolific than I. Still, I keep my favorite posts from time to time, as in this list (click to enlarge, or is that common sense).

Saturday, August 15, 2009

To St. Vincent de Paul: 5 books, 3 pairs pajamas handsewn by my Aunt Nancy when she was watching the OJ trial (can't squeeze in), flavia coffee maker, 1 jacket, 10 t-shirts, 5 plates, 2 faucets, 1wooden candle holder from Holland Michigan, including 30-year-old cloves in drawer. From, for $5.50: paper-thin plastic (oxymoron?) plates; The Book of Common Prayer, A History of New Orleans, Brick Lane, The Bone People, The Kite Runner, Accordion Crimes, A Yellow Raft in Blue Water,The American Book of the Dead, and Ortho's All About House Additions (I wish). Not bad.

Tuesday, August 11, 2009

Chef's Survey

And it's 2 blocks from my office . . .
Ah, a cheeseburger, fries well done, and a diet coke: once a quarter, why not? If it's good enough for this guy, it's good enough for me: "It's the perfect example of classic American fast food. It satisfies my craving for meat, crisp fries, and their special sauce." — Thomas Keller, The French Laundry, Yountville, California and Per Se, New York City." Via Esquire

Friday, August 07, 2009

Mission Control
Thanks to, I learned that, home of smooth streaming fm, has a Mission Control station. I, along with a hundred or so other listeners, was pulled in and attached all day to NASA Mission broadcasts and live shuttle coverage combined with electronic ambient music (donate! donate!). Quite the fuel for detailed work. Of course, one thing led to another (after work hours, naturally), and I began to randomly lose myself in web stacks to reach all kinds of NASA archives. For example, take Project Red Socks (Jet Propulsion Labs, 1957). The objectives of the project were "1) get photos, 2) refine space guidance techniques, and 3) impress the world" with a series of nine rocket flights to the moon. Didn't fly. You will have to search to learn more; it's all in the river of history that by now has reached some sort of sea. I love the project name, though. Image credit: NASA Jet Propulsion Laboratory.

Saturday, August 01, 2009

August 1, there's French music in the background, Jean Sablon singing in the 30s about rhum and coca cola and ces petits choses, these little things. The flies are buzzing, and Huey likes to eat them. All is right with Huey.

I like my house. No, I don't want to sell it. But thanks for asking, in your handwritten and mailed note. But alas, I won't be calling.