Responding to yesterday's Work Blog post on the hideous overuse of "like," a reader writes:

Was the term originated by Maynard G. Krebs? If so . . . the mind boggles at the cultural impact of the hapless Bob Denver.

Boggling would ensue indeed, but I don't think so. Krebs was a version of a well-known archetype, I think. (Never watched the show, but I get the drift.) Beats and boho hipsters - shades, reefer, bongos, finger-snapping poetry declamations - came first, and since middle America found them annoying or amusing, defanging the idea with a comic version was a smart idea.

As I understand it, though, "Dobie" came before the beats; Max Shulman published the stories in '51, and the 1953 movie has no Krebs. (It does, however, have what may be the first known use of Jazz Hands, by the inventor of such himself.)

Now begins the short-bleat season, which is better than no-bleat season. (I hope.) The Fair begins, and that means I will be writing and doing videos in the evening. It’s a lot of work, inasmuch as it’s not “work” in the lifting-barrels-and-putting-them-elsewhere sense, and I’m lucky to do it. But for most people the Fair is a trip away from the normal everyday world, and by the end of the Fair I’m just growling to myself over all these people who are getting in my way. I have things to do.

What I will find, what I will write and film, I’ve no idea. That’s the challenge.

I went on the day before it opened, which is becoming something of a tradition. I like seeing the workers set things up. It’s remarkably relaxed. Hours before it opens, and it seems completely unfinished: there’s no way it’ll be ready, but it always is. You get privileged views of the place, empty and clean and fresh and ready.



Words you'll say after some of our 10,000 beers:



Er, uhm, Beyehowatgra, bro? Yeah.

In the Food Building - and I love the fact that there is food everywhere at the Fair, yet there is a specific building set aside for MORE FOOD - there was an old picture. I hope it's a collage.



More to come - I won't overload you on the Fair here, but I'll be living it for a week or so.

Hard, tough life, I know.




Today it's the FACES OF BOWLING! Well, one face. And one logo:

I always had a soft spot for this logo, since it meant FUN at a place filled with turquoise plastic and hard shoes. There was a bowling alley two blocks from our house; my parents not only bowled, but bowled in a league - and had shirts that said LILEKS OIL around the big embroidered Texaco logo.

The bowling alley is still there. But let's go back to early 60s and take a look at how AMF reminded the nation of the push-button fun you can have with the MAtic Triangle pinspotters!

Elegant dining. "Many people discovered the game when they stopped in to dine!"

You wonder if they were distracted by the constant sound of compressed spheres striking wooden pins at high speed, and wondered what the hell that was.

There's bonding over the score! Everyone has a great time while ignoring Mom's posture of triumph.

Now the fun part: the facial expressions of people confronted with the aftermath of the first ball.

The PINDICATOR gives the bad news. "Carol, by the way, is Queen of New York City's Summer Festival." She was also the wife of Duane Hickman, who played . . . Dobie Gillis. Hmm. I hadn't planned that.

She seems to have run out of expressions rather quickly. There's not much you can do with your bowling face, is there? Joy, Rage, Concentration, Disappointment. That's about it.

Well, there's also despair:

She has her own imdb entry, but I think this acting role should be added to her credits. Minor, sure - but for a week she was in every doctor's and dentist's office in the country, in millions of homes, acting out the signals of a Pindicator.


New Restaurant exteriors! See you around.





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