Georgetown mystery.

Spotted at the corner of Wisconsin Avenue and Volta Place in Georgetown (DC) today. I always admire the Lutheran Church at this corner. Their sense of gardening matches my own -- whimsical, unplanned, over-packed, riotous. Today however, I discovered a new feature that may be the church's doing. This big fungus was manually affixed to a tree next to the sidewalk by the church. My sister will know what it is. But I wonder if my sister will know why it's there? She used to live in Georgetown but I don't think she drove 4 hours from her current home in the northern Appalachian Mountains to put it there. On the other hand, my sister -- an obsessive mushroom forager -- is whimsical and prone to unplanned, riotous acts so who knows.

Here's the church in October:

Remembering Stephen Colbert by Rob Sheffield, Rolling Stone, Issue 1224

The American political scene has lost one of its towering characters with the untimely demise of Stephen Colbert. He was 50. Feared by many, hated by some, watched by all, Colbert leaves an uncertain legacy for the media he revolutionized and the culture he altered. Without him on TV four nights a week, there is a truth-shaped hole in our national political discourse. "Anyone can read the news to you," he announced when The Colbert Report debuted in 2005. "I promise to feel the news at you."

He kept that promise, which is how he came to define our era. For so many of us, Colbert sums up the optimism and idealism of the Bush years, along with his hero and mentor Bill O'Reilly, whom he called Papa Bear. "I emulate you," he once told O'Reilly in a poignant appearance on Fox News. "I want to bring your message of love and peace to a younger audience. People in their sixties, people in their fifties – people who don't watch your show."

As a boy, Colbert idolized Richard Nixon and Geraldo Rivera, and he once spoke of his dream of growing up to become Nancy Reagan. His family heritage was Irish – "I could sit toe-to-toe at a potato table with anybody" – and he remained a lifelong devout Catholic. As he once explained on his show, "Catholicism is clearly superior. Don't believe me? Name one Protestant denomination that could afford a $660 million sexual-abuse settlement." But he remained open-minded. "I believe that everyone has the right to their own religion, be you Hindu, Jewish or Muslim. I believe there are infinite paths to accepting Jesus Christ as your personal savior." 

As a child, he pronounced his family name "Coal-bert"; it was only later in life that he adopted the French pronunciation, "Coal-bear." As he explained, it was all part of his plan to sneak past the gatekeepers of the left-wing media. "It's a French name, just to get the cultural elites on my side," he told O'Reilly. "Bill, you know you’ve got to play the game that the media elites want you to." In 1983, he legally changed his middle name to "Gettysburg Address."

His rise in the media world was swift and ruthless. Soon after joining The Daily Show in 1997, Colbert attracted national attention for his uncompromising passion for the truth. As he put it, "When I think about truth, I touch myself." After Jon Stewart took over The Daily Show in 1999, it became America's most hard-hitting TV news program, with Colbert as its breakout star. (He also stole Comedy Central's 2002 roast for Chevy Chase, whom he hailed as a "comedy lamprey, just sucking the joy out of everything it touches.")

He was the kind of "Blame America Last" pundit who thrived in the post-9/11 years – able to reduce complex issues to common-sense tidbits, uninhibited by facts. He introduced America to the twin principles of "Truthiness" and "Wikiality," where anything is true if it feels true, or if someone claims it is, correctly predicting, "The revolution will not be verified."

If there was a moment when he officially took over as America’s leading political thinker, it was the night he hosted the 2006 White House Correspondents' Association Dinner, speaking directly to President George W. Bush, who sat with him onstage. "Tonight it is my privilege to celebrate this president," he announced. "We both get it. Guys like us, we’re not some brainiacs on the nerd patrol. We’re not members of the 'factinista.' We go straight from the gut. Right, sir? That's where the truth lies – right down here in the gut."

Colbert kept following that gut, and America followed along. He ran for president in 2008, only to be denied his spot on the ballot due to behind-the-scenes manipulations by the South Carolina Democratic Party. He hosted the March to Keep Fear Alive in 2010, and wrote the bestselling manifesto I Am America (And So Can You!). But his greatest achievement was The Colbert Report. There was nothing like it on TV – yet that's because everything on TV was like it. Colbert was no different from most of his fellow media pundits – he just went a step or two further. In the Colbert era, America got far more Colbert-like, to the point where Congress seems to be reciting his transcripts verbatim. ("Net neutrality is Obamacare for the Internet" – that's not Colbert, it's the junior senator from Texas.)

Colbert will be remembered for his personal courage after his 2007 wrist injury, which inspired him to campaign against "wrist violence" with his WristStrong bracelets. (It also inspired him to get addicted to painkillers.) He will be remembered for his tireless crusade against bears. But most of all, he will be remembered for truth. Nobody summed up the current state of the American mind as brilliantly, as honestly, as terrifyingly as Stephen Colbert. It's somehow fitting that he left us prematurely and under such mysterious circumstances. He will be missed – even if someone very much like him returns to the airwaves in the coming months. Yet the culture of truthiness will survive him. With or without Colbert, we're all still living in the Colbert era, with no end in sight.

 

Thrift store buys.

I got these for $7.50. They're for my African violets. Yesterday I posted 10 minutes after midnight. This will be posted about 25 minutes after midnight. I think I'm playing silly games with the nablopomo theme. Pushing the envelope. I amuse myself.

Wildlife in my yard.

 

A cute little chipmunk was hanging out today under my front porch bird feeder. Clarence enjoyed watching him root around.

 

This notice was just posted near our driveway. It's not a surprise; we learned months ago that it was going to happen. Soon, in theory, there could be people shooting at deer just yards away from my house, from 6 PM until 6 AM, Monday through Friday. Unless the deer figure it out and stay in my yard, where they spend much of their day anyway.

 

The green shows the protected parkland where they thrive and where the hunt will take place. Our house is on one of the white roads directly bordering the park. The deer like to linger and graze and sleep and give birth on the fringes of the park, which is precisely where our house is. It will be strange during the hunt. I'll be listening. I'm in favor of the hunt, for many reasons. But I'll be glad when it's over.

Hopeless?

I accidentally left this plant, this very old plant, outside during our first frost, maybe even two frosts. I think it's not likely to recover but I'll leave it on this enclosed porch for the winter and maybe in the spring it will find a way to recover.

My mother gave me the mother of this plant in 1968. Sad to lose it but everything is mortal, right?

I refuse to eat meat that is more well-traveled than I am. (Which means I really should avoid eating in most restaurants.)

I've added an addendum to my recent post about turkey-pardoning.

All in a row. Clarence, Georgette, and Lucy. Watching birds.

And putting nose prints all over the windows.

Lowline in Manhattan.

First there was New York's popular High Line. Now the city might get a Lowline. A park under the city. I'm such a pessimist (something I hope to change in 2015) that I have trouble imagining this working. Here's to me being wrong!

I'm sorry, but it's my opinion that they'll have to build a mighty strong fortress around these solar devices to keep them intact. They might as well have a sign that says "kick me, smash me." My son, no reservoir of optimism, disagrees with me. He says, basically, "if people aren't breaking windows on that street why would they break that?" So maybe he's right.

 

My happy African violets.

After years of neglecting a small collection of African violets I decided to start watering them on a regular basis. They rewarded me by getting healthy and blooming a lot. I'm also growing new plants all the time by rooting leaves. I have so many plants now that they are taking over one corner of the living room. I've given some away but I need to give even more away or stop growing them.

Note to anyone who comes into my house: ask me to give you one or two or three.

Only 2 more posts to go!

I ain't nothing but tired
Man I'm just tired and bored with myself
...
I check my look in the mirror
I wanna change my clothes, my hair, my face
 
Springsteen lyrics (from Dancing in the Dark) that keep going through my head. It's an exaggeration of course, but not entirely. 

I like weeding in Maryland, but maybe Norway has really special weeds.

I wonder if everyone who tries this "post every day in November" thing whines at the end about not having anything to say? I know one other blogger who does (just a smidge). I confess that I didn't visit many other NaBloPoMo bloggers during the month (I don't like that acronym, and also NaNoWriMo -- they sound like parodies of neighborhoods in lower New York City). Maybe now that the pressure (ha!) is off about daily posting I'll explore the other participants.

You are so right Mr. President. It IS puzzling.

"It is a little puzzling that I do this every year, but .... it's nice once in a while just to say, 'Happy Thanksgiving.'" About pardoning a big turkey at the White House.

Those poor teenagers. Mr. O, it's time to let them avoid this kind of thing. One reporter said there were some subtle eye-rolls, as if to say "daaaaaaad, pleeeeeeaaaase let us out of here." Another reporter said: "When asked if she wanted to pet the pardoned turkey, Malia simply said, “Nah.”

-----------------
Update: 12/2/2014: Little did I know last week that the Obama girls would inspire TurkeyGate. In case you've avoided Internet "news" lately you might not know that a lame Congressional staffer had to quit her job over a mean-spirited Facebook comment.

"Dear Sasha and Malia, I get your both in those awful teen years but you're a part of the First Family. Try showing a little class. At least respect the part you play. Then again, your mother and father don't respect their positions very much, or the nation for that matter, so I'm guessing you're coming up a little short in the 'good role model' department.

"Dress like you deserve respect, not a spot in a bar."

Presidential daughter in 2004, age 23. Addressing the press.

There is so much about that comment that makes me angry. First, attacking two young girls, 13 and 16. Second, assuming that they are having "awful teen years." And third, libeling their parents by saying they don't respect their jobs or their country. I predict that Fox News is already courting Eliz Lauten for a spot on their channel. She's just their type. Mean and stupid.

Snow, sorta.

It was heavy enough to smush down the ornamental grasses, but they'll bounce back in a few days. There was more snow on the ground and road earlier in the day. It was a nice snow, the first of what I hope will be many this winter. I could tell you that the pole on the right was constructed/installed for Festivus. But I won't.

My official shoes. For the duration.

These are my relatively new Skechers. I have a second pair, in grey canvas with white soles, and a third pair (chocolate with black soles) on the way. It's possible that I will wear only this style of shoe for the rest of my life.

After I bought the first pair of Skechers I noticed the marketing on the box:

"GOimpulse™ sensors move together and independently to provide sensory feedback to the brain."

The sensors are those dots, especially the black one. I thought: that's a pretty meaningless phrase -- "...provide sensory feedback to the brain." (That's what I do a lot these days: think snarky things about marketing copy. Such a huge waste of time and mental energy.)

So I did what anyone with too much time on her hands does and I checked out more of Skechers marketing on these miraculous GoSensors. I found this:
   
Mid-foot Strike
Patented SmartShoe™ technology positions the body for an efficient mid-foot strike. This gets the foot off the ground faster and reduces the impact of heel striking. (It’s the way you’re supposed to run).
GOimpulse Sensors
Innovative placement allows the sensors on the outsole to move together and independently as they provide sensory feedback to the brain. Runners are able to more easily feel with precision, react to the ground, and adjust their stride. This dynamic interaction leads to a more natural and responsive run. Selected sensors at strike points also feature high-abrasion rubber for extra stability and traction control.
4mm Heel Drop
This low heel drop brings Skechers GOrun 66 percent closer to the ground than traditional running or training shoes to replicate a natural barefoot experience. A roomier forefoot adds to this feeling by allowing extra space for toes to spread, grip and push off.


Do I believe all that? It's tempting. They truly are comfortable shoes, and I'm quickly becoming addicted to them. But I'm suspicious."...low heel drop brings Skechers GOrun 66 percent closer to the ground ..to replicate a natural barefoot experience."
Is that a good thing, "replicating the natural barefoot experience"? I thought Earth Shoes had been debunked. Or am I so old that they were debunked and then re-bunked?

[Only a few more days of this daily blogging. I feel stupider as each day rolls by. Tired of hearing my own voice I think.]

My worm family.

Here you see my three bins of worms and my one bin (under the green concrete leaf--thanks Susan) of mostly castings ready to be spread wherever...my so-called vegetable garden I guess. I have an almost dormant blog about my worms, mylovelyworms.blogspot.com.

I have really neglected them recently, meaning the last couple of years. I guess I feed them enough (fruit and vegetable waste, coffee grounds, bills and junk mail). I just don't check often enough about moisture levels, carbon to nitrogen ratio, heat, that sort of stuff. But they are tolerant, and their population quietly rises and falls in response to my attentions/neglect. Worms have a lot of dignity. And they ask so little of me.

The first solo glove of the very long lost-glove season.

I lose gloves on a regular basis, especially gloves that were a gift or gloves I paid more than 20 bucks for. Gloves that I find in the backs of closets or buy for $5 from a street vendor are never lost. I bought this glove and his missing partner a few weeks ago and only used them twice. The missing glove is, or was, probably in a parking lot at the corner of Rts 108 and 650 in Ashton, MD.

I'll save this glove for a long, long time. I have other singles that I can mate with it, and in a weirdo mind game I play, I imagine that I'll actually find another single that matches it. What happens to all these solo gloves? I can't be the only person who loses singles. Should I attach a long cord to each glove and snake it through the arms of my coat so they're impossible to lose? I'd love to start a website for missing gloves. A kind of shelter for the singles where people can find near-matches.

UPDATE:
Ohforgodssake, what made me think a thousand others haven't done something about the missing glove phenomenon? Including Tom Hanks.
http://www.lostgloves.org/
http://onecoldhand.com/
http://www.buzzfeed.com/lyapalater/tom-hanks-is-on-a-mission-to-find-every-lost-glove-in-new-yo

Saint Stephen.

A few years ago St. Stephen spent a day working beside migrant workers picking beans and corn. He then testified before Congress on behalf of migrant workers and their deplorable working conditions. At the beginning of this short clip, Congresswoman Chu asks "why are you interested in this subject?" Here's Stephen's reply. 

 

I have a long history of being enchanted, sometimes obsessed, by late-night TV hosts. I remember as a teenager doing homework in front of the TV and watching Johnny Carson. I had a very long Letterman phase  -- in the 80s and early 90s mostly -- when my office was a shrine to him. David Brenner had a short-lived quirky late-night show in the 80s, and between 1988 and 1994 Bob Costas had a very good interview show. Then there was Tom Synder, also in the 90s. Bill Maher, Jon Stewart, and John Oliver are my current main sources of news. And entertainment.

Yes, I'm going to complain again about Stephen being tapped as David's replacement on CBS. Only 12 more shows for Stephen; Dave's contract runs out in August 2015. I'll miss The Colbert Report, I'll miss Dave's Top 10 List, but I'll adjust. It's not reality. Or is it? Sometimes it feels more real than the so-called straight news.

Marmite. I just iClicked 4.4 oz of this stuff.

I learned about Marmite a year or so ago and it's been on my to-try list ever since. Just now I ordered a jar of it. It's [from Wikipedia] "made from yeast extract, a by-product of beer brewing. Other similar products include the Australian Vegemite (saltier in taste), the Swiss Cenovis and the German Vitam-R. The British version of the product is a sticky, dark brown food paste with a distinctive, powerful flavour, which is extremely salty. This distinctive taste is reflected in the British company's marketing slogan: 'Love it or hate it.' "


I like anchovies. I like salt bagels. I like pickles. My weakness is The Salty rather than The Sweet. So I may love Marmite. I'm thinking on toast.

Fungi and moss.

 

[Boy, I really phoned it in yesterday, didn't I? Blogging about a day-glo Polish statue of Lenin taking a leak.]

The mushrooms at the top were in my backyard a week or so ago. I love when they turn black--so beautiful. The other three pictures are from the Patuxent Wildlife Center in September. The book I just finished, The Signature of All Things by Elizabeth Gilbert, has some wonderful passages about moss. I wanted to put one here, but unfortunately, I read an electronic library copy of the book and it's no longer on my Kindle. Another mark against electronic books (which I'll continue to read anyway because it's just so easy, and I'm all about easy).