Brrr is not a word that should come to mind the day before July, but the most recent effects of climate turbulence – I believe that’s the new term – pushed temps down way below normal. Cloudy, windy, cool. Weather like this usually hits about two weeks after the Halloween decorations go up in Target.
When I dressed for work today I thought “I should put on a white shirt, in case the Supreme Court decision comes in.” You know the feeling, right? It’s new to me. I got distracted, wore a green linen shirt, and headed in for meetings. Wouldn’t you know it: the decision came in, for Franken, as everyone expected. This meant we had to go live, and as strange as it sounds for a newspaper to go live, that’s what we do: wrangle a journo, pat the face, hook up the mike, and go. I got the decision a few minutes before we went on, got cross-eyed at the legalese, had another cup of coffee, and off we went.
What fun. There was even real BREAKING NEWS handed to me during the broadcast, and if I tried to resist saying This Just In, I don’t think I managed.
At the end of the day I went to pick up daughter, and stopped at the nearby Humane Society to see the dogs. No, Jasper’s fine. From last evening:
But you never know when you’ll find some slow old mutt who makes his case with mute eloquence. A ghastly animal racket came from the back of the building, barking and screeching, as if they were attempting to make some dog-monkey hybrid. With saws. I’m serious: monkeys. I have no idea what the rhubarb was about, but you can guess: the monkeys were shouting WOLF WOLF WOLF GO AWAY I JUMP UP AND DOWN AT YOU GO AWAY and the dogs were barking horrible not-man thing, what the hell On and on it went.
Inside it was sad, but it’s always sad at the shelter. A few of the dogs had signs on their pens indicating they’d be sprung tomorrow by a new family, but this could be the shelter version of Carousel in “Logan’s Run.” (Or the Lottery in “The Island,” which I watched last night. Watched isn’t the right word; more like absorbed while shielding crucial organs from repeated blows.) Some dogs you want to coach: buddy, this isn’t how you get adopted. Do not bark at people while staring out of the corner of your eyes; you look like a psycho. Look at Buddy, here – relaxed mouth, tongue hanging out, tail wagging – people think that means he’s happy – and a general yes boss whatever you say boss you’re the greatest I’m sure glad you’re running the pack attitude.
There was a striking Aussie Cattle Dog who met your gaze with forthright defiance:
He put his paw through the cage to touch my hand. Interesting dog, but he’d chase Jasper around and make his day noisy.
This next one just breaks your heart, doesn’t it.
Why do humans form such kinship bonds with dogs? Oh, gosh, I don’t know.
Afterwards I got the kids and took them all home, entertaining them on the way with the story of Amazing Amanda. It was a life-sized doll Natalie had a few years ago. It talked. It knew what day it was. It gently admonished you if you gave it cookies for supper. It was hellspawn, and sometimes we’ll make up dialogue for Amanda expression all sorts of evil deeds in the same singsongy innocent voice. By the time we’d gotten halfway home we had Amanda burning down houses because “Fire is pretty.” I made the neighbors pretty too, mommy. Then piano; I sat in the hallway and tried to stay awake. Perkin’s for supper. There was a clown. There’s often a clown.
She walks around and hands out balloons. It was one of those days where you just aren’t surprised to see a clown in the restaurant. Why not. Bring on the mimes while you’re at it.
We played the games on the kid-menu. Natalie had a sensible question: What is a Jinx?
We’ve decided that Patty Pie’s mouth is not the pie-portion of her anatomy, because that would mean her arms come out of her mouth. But it’s still unclear.
I revived myself with a flagon of coffee, but I’m still beat and ready for nothing. The week is shaping up to contain an absolute train-wreck of work on Thursday – I have to give another Powerpoint talk, do the TV news thing, AND write a column, quaint as that now sounds. And I’ve been “tasked” to another Top-Secret Thing, this one code-named . . . PHASE 2. But today will have the usual assortment – Out-of-Context Ad Challenge at 10:00 or so, and a Mpls update later in the day. Right now: the first “What-City-Is-It” cartoon puzzle from a 1948 Sunday Tribune, up at buzz.mn.
Oh, I almost forgot: This matchbook appeared a few years ago in the Matchbook Museum; its advertising terms baffled me. I made some guesses, and it turns out I wasn’t far off. The proof? The son of the restaurant’s owner fills us in.
I had the “Preacher style fried chicken” figured out, but “$400 Waffles” just looked like the world’s worst slogan. Amazing to hear from the owner’s son on a two-year old blog post.
The mouth is the somewhat u-shaped squiggle under the eyes, that is on top of the pie-portion of her anatomy.
_@_v – ‘preacher style’? brings whole new meaning to the phrase ‘chickens comin’ home to roost’…
That IS Patty Pie’s mouth. It ISN’T her arm. It is the arm of a poor unfortunate who got TOO CLOSE! Patty hasn’t yet gulped her prey into her gut to be digested. YUM! Tastes like chicken.
According to the “Word Detective” blog, the words “jinx” and “jinks” (as in “high jinks”) are not related. He says this about “high jinks”:
The “jinks” in “high jinks,” meaning “playful, rowdy activity” or “disruptive pranks or unruly behavior” comes from a slightly different Scots dialect sense of “jink” as a noun meaning “game” or “prank.” Apparently “high jinks” in the 16th century was a drinking game (at the time also known as “high pranks”) in which the loser in a throw of dice had to perform a silly task (or drink a certain quantity of alcohol). By the mid-19th century, “high jinks” in standard English had come to mean “lively merrymaking” and “boisterous pranks” in general.
www(.)word-detective(.)com
I’m relieved to hear about Jasper. I consider MY e-dog, since I can’t have an actual dog just now
.
I always assumed that preacher-style chicken included the parson’s nose.
Bob
High jinks – one of those things you never, ever see in the singular.
I engaged in a high jink while putting on my pant.
stream of consciousness morning, nothing but one0liners here. I’m taking it outside. High0jinks, I’m callin’ you out!
When you get up to Phase IV that’s when the intelligent ants take over.
We have two dogs. They were littermates and raised with their (now deceased) mama so they get along fine. We have decided that, if boy dog dies first, we need to get a companion for girl dog because she’s lonely and miserable without a playmate. If girl dog goes first, boy dog will do just fine. He’s always been a Lone Wolf kind of guy. Fortunately, they’re both in the prime of their life so we hopefully won’t have to make that decision for a while.
My dog, Corbin, looks exactly like the little black fella with the white spot on his chest. Same anxious look, same beautiful paws. He’s the best dog I’ve ever had. He’s starting to go grey around the muzzle now.
Dogs give us love, and they break our hearts because they always leave us too soon.
James, you broke my heart with those dog photos. As a race, I’d say we don’t deserve them. The best we can do is care for the ones that share our lives [http://www.redhottypewriter.com/TestSubjects/TestSubjectsHomePage.htm].
Jasper is looking quite the distinguished gentleman.
How could you resist that little guy at the shelter? That should be the poster dog for the next adoption drive. We went shelter shopping recently for a second dog and, I could swear, the dog we got picked us and not the other way around.
I think the whole human – dog relationship started something with statement like this:
“Look, at the pretty wolf, Daddy. Can we keep him, PLEEEEEASE!”
That black pup is really cute. Sure, he’ll find a home soon!
I like the contemplative Jasper. He’s thinking deep thoughts, and pondering tough decisions. Should I walk down the hill? Lick my foot? Scratch? Go inside? Hmmmmm. Always good to see a Jasperpic.
Sorry. I promise I’m not completely illiterate.
What I meant to say above is:
‘I think the whole human – dog relationship started with a statement something like this:’
I need to get back in the habit of reading what I type before I hit submit.
Too much cognitive dissonance here:
1. That shelter is waaaay too clean and bright. There’s almost no way you could visit and not take a few of the residents home. The shelters around here are dank and smelly, and all the dogs have a death-row sort of look about them– you leave, empty-crated, and resigned never to have another pet.
2. Shouldn’t that kids’ menu say Patty Cake (as in “a baker’s man…”)? Those ad people just didn’t listen to what they wrote.
3. We had Amazing Amy (perhaps the Southern variant?) and had to exorcise the batteries right out of her, after daughter, Victrola, started arguing about her culinary choices– “I want some bananas”… “No, you’re having peas!” The very worst thing was that a lightning strike anywhere in the state would summon Amazing Amy’s otherworldly powers, and she’d randomly wake us all up, saying she was hungry or needed her diaper changed. Scared the willies right out of the Vickster, and willies are a real pain to clean up in the middle of the night. In contrast, she got 300,000 miles out of a silent, hand-sewn, rabbit-like doll “Maria” given by a family friend.
4. Our terrier-mutt, Annabelle, was a happy, well-adjusted little critter until Fritz (should have been Napoleon) came along. Smaller, younger, but a complete pain in Annabelle’s fundament. Now she’s totally repressed, and he remains tyrannical and oblivious.
Someone dumped one of those little blue Astralian dogs at our house a few years ago and it was pretty obvious why. The dog was really sweet, but it never stopped moving. She was also a nervous tinkler. She had a knack for finding pieces of dead animals and hiding them around the house so she could rolll in them after I cleaned her up. It was sad but frankly a bit of a relief when she left us. Our German Shepherd really seemed to enjoy her company.
That $400 was quite a bit of money in the late 30s. Assume 1939 just because the owner’s son said late 30s, early 40s, and the Inflation Calculator (http://www.westegg.com/inflation/infl.cgi) put it at just over $6000 in 2008 dollars. Pretty good for a pre-reality TV contest.
I think Jasper needs a buddy!
Weather like this usually hits about two weeks after the Halloween decorations go up in Target.
And following actual seasonal advertising, that would be… let’s see, uhmmm, the first of July…
There was a clown. There’s often a clown.
Clown at Perkin’s, clown in the Senate. Minnesota is in alignment!
Cannot decide whether the pooch or the clown is sadder.
Their realm is diminished since John Wayne Gacey,and most today are as
welcome as Marcel Marceau at a heavyweight fight.I digress.
It is doggiedom that I have come to praise.
Forget who said it but ..”we give them what food space and love we can spare,and they give us their all.It is the finest bargain ever made”.
Those seen above awaiting their shot for misbehaviors untold ,need only be forgiven and given chance for redemption.Just like my unseen avatar.
Some are of course destined to go thru life as ” bad doggys’.
Had a giant schnauzer next door who could sense one at birth,and dispose of all evidence in short order ,without the cook.She preferred smaller litters of two or three altho she was more prone to delivering 12.This did cut down the kibble bill.
Not so sure her defense would work with children so cute that their mothers could just ‘eat them up’.The in-laws would never understand.
Still there is little that a doggy could do that I would find unforgivable.
When relatives leave that big smelly one on the carpet,it just isn’t as cute.
Phase IV??? Glorioskies, I thought I was the only person who had ever seen that…
It helps if you channel Telly Savalas when telling stories of talking dolls.
We ended up with a lost Queensland Aussie shepherd, cattle ranchers found her, she had bad hearing which may explain her getting lost.
She was pretty mellow when not in wolf mode. I made the mistake of teasing her and telling her to round up the horse we had at the time. She tried to herd the horse and I thought she was going to get kicked into the happy herding grounds.
“Phase IV” was in the “Zero Season” of MST3K.
Also, I am sad to admit, I have a memory of seeing it in the theater during its first run. Maybe I am thinking of “Charlie’s Ant”.
With regards to the matchbook mysteries… I do sincerely apologize if this is inappropriate but… there is a very old off-colour joke… “Son, what do you want to be when you grow up?” “A preacher, ’cause I like eating fried chicken and making love to other people’s wives”. Ahem… I think I’ll go do something out in the yard…
Darn you, James! Now I won’t be able to get that sweet, pleading face (topped by the most adorable perky black ears) out of my mind for weeks. I’m the world’s biggest sucker for dogs; I love them all. Guess it’s a good thing I’m a few hundred miles away, or I would be trying to figure out how to incorporate her into my three-dog pack. And my husband would be planning to divorce me.
I also saw Phase IV when it came out. Admittedly, while looking as if it was shot on a budget of thirty-four cents, it does have a certain creepiness about it.
Weird. We’re planning on hitting the pound for a new dog for daughter (8 years old). The last dog we got there fooled us. Was small puppy, doing the sitting quiet thing. Has since grown in to 90 lb lap dog who worries through the house at night, keeping wolves and dinosaurs at bay.
Daughter would really like a smaller dog, that won’t crush her when it climbs in to her lap. Coincidentally, should be finished with fencing in our two acres by the time we get new pooch. Hopefully, this will give old dog room to not feel crowded by new dog.
absepa: oh, your husband would get over it. Just show him the picture, act all mopey, and he’ll cave after a day or two. Hey, it worked on my wife (it’s how I got our sixth dog, and from 1200 miles away, no less).
I only know Phase IV from MST3K, but I thought it was one of the more watchable films. The scientific and mathematical banter sounds like they ran it by somebody who had at least a clue, and it stars that actor I think of as “the lawyer from McCane and Mrs Miller”, who is pretty good in a low-key way.
Some MST3K movies (”Hamlet”, “Sky Divers”, “Castle of Fu Manchu”…) are so bad good riffing can’t save them.
And SPEAKING OF RIFFS??? What happened to Lileks’ next RiffTrax? Schedule overload much?
[EDIT] “McCabe and Mrs Miller”.
Is it me, or does Patty Pie look like some sort of feminized, badly-drawn Homer Simpson?
And re the shelter dogs–I would adopt one in a heartbeat if I didn’t live in a zero lot-line neighborhood where the backyards are so small that it would be cruel to keep a dog cooped up in one. (This doesn’t keep some of my neighbors from having them, of course, but I’m not gonna Be That Guy.)
Thanks for the pic of Jasper – I adore looking at him (wish I could pet him too, one day they’ll have a computer screen for that – heh).
Up here in the great Northeast (Boston area) it’s been cloudy and raining nearly non-stop for the past month) temps in the 60’s for the most part. Where’s my global warming? Can I sue Congress for ruining my summer by trying to make the world cooler???
Ugh, “The Skydivers” oh, the horror. I am convinced that Coleman Francis is indeed the worst filmmaker of all time.
“Starfighters” might be worse than “Skydivers”, although the host segments are good – including “United Servo Academy Men’s Chorus”, the movie is snooze city, unless you’re turned on by aerial refueling.
“United Servo Academy Men’s Chorus”
Is one of my ringtones.
I agree that “Star Fighters is right down there with “The Skydivers” saved by the host segments.
Poopy Suit!
It’s hard to tell from the pic, but that coat and face look a bit more Australian Shephard (an American breed ususally called an Aussie) than Australian Cattle Dog (an Australian breed sometimes called the Blue Heeler).
Either one makes a great pet. I had a Aussie with the blue/grey coat (Blue Merle) super smart and super sweet. Kids just loved him (and he them). I really miss having a dog
It doesn’t matter, Mr. Lileks, that you continue to make the alt text on the pictures so utterly banal. I will continue to check every time. In fact, it is your fault that I do so, as you introduced me to Achewood. And I have to say, little Easter Eggs like that would be even more enjoyable than “dog1″ “dog2″ “clown”. And for a man mastering the laconic art of the Tweet, it would seem good practice.
Actually, ss, they were “dog2 and “dog3,” weren’t they? I thought “well, no one will wonder why there’s no “dog1,” since no one checks. I should have known!
Sorry, clowns creep me out… don’t know why… they just creep me out… and to see one at a restaurant… I’d demand a food taster…. brrrrrr…..
oh, if I could only adopt the Australian blue heeler! My nephew had the red version of this breed — it looked like a pink fox from a distance. Smart, loving, funny critter. Even my mother liked the dog, which is unheard of. As my brother said, the only problem with the critter was that she was smarter than all of us put together. If I hadn’t been a city apartment dweller, I would have taken her in when my nephew decided to go back to college.
The trouble with dogs like Australian blue heelers, cattle dogs, is that they are working dogs, akin to Border Collies in that they need something to DO. Something USEful. If you don’t find some kind of activity for them, they will find something for themselves and trust me, you won’t like it.
Nephew’s dog wound up in a kennel for her own safety, became bored, dug her way out, and attempted to herd a car with sadly predictable results. I’m still sorrowful.
As for the dog-human emotional bond — there’s a story called “At the Gate” by Myla J. Closser (found in a book entitled Famous Modern Ghost Stories, edited by Dr. Dorothy Scarborough, also in Illustrated Classics Famous Gothic Tales). I won’t describe it. I dare anyone — no! I DEFY anyone to read it and not burst into helpless tears. It gets me every time.
Damn, I hope Rachel Lucas didn’t read the bleat today, England will be flooded …
OH MY GOD … Marjorie, I found a link to “At the Gate”. Had to go get some Kleenex and then kiss my sleeping kids. Wow, thanks for the warning.
Here’s the link:
http://www.magick7.com/oe/Horror/stories08/002.htm
Click on it everyone, I triple dog dare you …
James – I thought it went without saying that Jasper was Dog 1.
No, James is Dog One.
Bob
How did you get Hugh Hewitt to dress up like a clown?
I just adopted a wonderful dog (photos posted on Buzz.mn). Named him Fido. He’s part Australian Cattle Dog, part Blue Heeler, and part (I think) smooth Fox Terrier, and maybe a little Jack Russell mixed in. A great dog, smart as a whip.
If you want a dog, don’t waste time driving around to shelters. Go to www(.)petfinder(.)com, and enter the kind of animal you’re looking for, and your zip code. It will show you all the dogs (or cats) within your geographic area, and more. That’s how I found my last 4 dogs, and it’s well worth it.
Kingman, Kansas as one of the Harris locations, huh?
I live in Kingman, Arizona.
Named after, I believe, the same man: Lewis Kingman.
I must be getting jaded; synchronicities like that don’t affect me as they once did.