Another clipart sample

Lion vs. unfortunate little 18th-century woodcut guy. Wonder who's going to win.

Well, it worked -- sort of . . .

Dover sent some "Christmas in July" samples, among others, and the temperature's gone back down into the eighties!

What do you do when you need some beer foam . . .

early in the morning?

This morning, I wanted a photo to illustrate a post (elsewhere) about what Stephen Colbert is calling "Thursday's post-racial beerfest".

Despite what you might think, I

1. did not have any recently used beer mugs lying around, and
2. was unwilling to pour a cold one before starting my work.

So what did I use? Baking soda and vinegar.

When it was through fizzing, I poured off the liquid and took a picture of the mug with the foam clinging to it.

I'd post it, but it was done for hire and doesn't belong to me.

True Story Based on a Major Motion Picture

Let's start with the headline of this story about a bank robber in Monroe, WA:

Former High School Star Athlete Sentenced to Prison for Armored Car Robbery

. . . Klutz Who Was Always Picked Last in Gym Lands Job Writing FBI Press Releases. Well, I'm just guessing.

Now the subhead:

Defendant Used Ad on Craigslist and Flotation Device to Make Escape

This isn't quite what it sounds like. He didn't post an ad saying GETAWAY DRIVER NEEDED @ BANK OF AMERICA and give the time and date.

He posted an ad for landscapers, telling them to show up in their work clothes. Being a landscaper himself, he put on a similar outfit and pretended to be spraying weeds around the bank grounds. He went on to spray an armored car driver with mace, grab some money, and disappear in the crowd of landscapers. (It seems he got the idea from a movie.)

And yes, he tubed away.

The rest of the story is sadly predictable. Alcoholism, spending, cheating on his pregnant wife with a teenager. Vegas with "friends".

Six years.

"Our emotions were as raw as the chicken in the fajita I was served at the restaurant."

A family's drive from Vancouver to Disneyland with two small kids is recounted by their dad, James Kwantes, in an article called (what else?) "Are We There Yet?"

In Carmel, California:

a man dressed in a shirt, tie and dress pants walked by in his bare feet, talking on a cellphone.

He hardly looked out of place.

That guy probably doesn't realize he's a Discalced Carmelite . . .

That's Entertainment

Soon to be a major motion picture: The Hardy Men, about the adult lives of the Hardy Boys. Ed Solomon, the screenwriter, says, “It's about guys who are now completely screwed up, who don't speak to each other anymore, who live in different parts of town and have to deal with their own complicated psyches. It's a comedy."

Critic Robert Cushman tells us what he really thinks about Noel Coward’s play Fumed Oak: “The play is snobbish, misogynist, one-sided and undoubtedly expresses deep, and deeply discreditable, impulses in its author. I loved it.”

Familia Values

Cult-like drug cartel gives to the poor, slaughters rivals

. . . and it's run by a "purported Evangelical Christian" who doesn't let his drug runners drink or, well, do drugs. Plus:

La Familia uses Bible scriptures and self-help slogans to inspire its traffickers

From self-help slogans, deliver us, O Lord!

Where even to start with the questions on this one?

Is this guy an Evangelical gone bad, or a cynic who seized on Evangelicalism as a way to build support, keep his minions out of the merchandise, and stand out in the crowd of Mexican crooks?

Why Evangelicalism instead of Catholicism? (Because you can't tell Catholics not to drink?)

Does he really think financing drug rehab centres cancels out enabling the addictions that put people there?

That drinking alcohol is worse than shooting policemen?

That he's a practising Christian?

Who knows? After all, he calls himself "El Mas Loco".

Please Do Not Feed the Ducks

Earlier, doing research for an article on why feeding bread to waterfowl is an even worse idea than feeding French fries to yourself, I tried to find a news story I remembered from a few years ago, about three old ladies in Britain being arrested for persistently feeding ducks in a park.

I never found it, but I found plenty of similar stories. It usually is an old lady who's had up for these offenses.

In Florida, this is a hot-button issue, and having seen how the Muscovy ducks there follow people around in search of a handout, I almost understand why. But just almost. I mean, arresting a woman for "harbouring ducks" because she left her garage door open? She was accused of leaving food for them in there, but said the door was open simply so her cats could get in and out.

The other side can be ruthless too. I also read about a couple who were pretty tired of ducks hanging around their condo complex, so when they saw a stranger feeding them, they asked her to stop. She said, "I'm a police officer, I can do what I want." It was true. She had the man arrested.

Feeding waterfowl is serious stuff in Florida.

Walter Cronkite, RIP

The hero of Lizard Music is a devoted fan of Walter Cronkite, and while he wishes him no harm, of course, he imagines suitably dramatic death scenes for him, always leading up to the last words, "And that's the way it is . . . "

Forget "Houston, we have a problem"

My favourite lines from Apollo 13 all come from James Lovell's mother:

"Blanch, this is Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin."
"Are you boys in the space program, too?"

Later, she tells her granddaughter not to worry:

"If they could make a washing machine fly, my Jimmy could land it."

Persian design reminds me . . .

I never posted anything about Michael Jackson.

See, what I first thought of when I read he had died was Persepolis -- because there's a bit where teenage Marjane is stopped in the street by the Guardians of the Revolution (women's branch) for her decadent Western appearance, including a Michael Jackson button.

Thinking quickly, she tries to tell them it's Malcolm X (who was, at least, a Muslim). But even they know better than that.

All this, plus OVERNIGHT PARKING

What more could you want? A playground, a chapel, a cemetery, etc., etc. -- oh yes, and the Blessed Sacrament.

Looks like I've hit it big

Now all those hoards of people with the same last name as me will be hounding me for loans.

There's just one thing I'm wondering about: Why would anyone who knows I'm on the brink of getting rich think I'd be interested in 53% off a magazine subscription?

Hark, the Heraldic Angels . . .

This one's a little . . . busy. An angel holding a severed head on a platter, lots of bunting or maybe leaves, something that looks like the neckpiece from a suit of armour -- where's the shield? Oh, there it is, hanging crookedly off the bottom of the assemblage, with the device barely visible.

This must belong to the St. Michels . . . or maybe the Angells?

Signs that you're just *dreaming* you're back in high school (or what I wish I'd remembered last night)

• Your carpool mates are your teenage son and someone you knew in the Air Force 25 years ago
• The carpool driver is someone who's been dead for seven years
• When your mom, who lives 3000 miles away, worries that you're going to miss your ride, you say you can drive yourself in your ancient Toyota Camry
• When you get to school, you don't remember your schedule -- but that's okay, because all they want you to do is iron costumes for the school play

Don't try this at home or abroad

Disclaimer: THIS IS DELIBERATELY BAD ADVICE! It's also probably impossible to follow -- I certainly haven't tried.

So don't try to take me to court because your mucus membranes were damaged by leftover coffee.

What am I talking about? Read on:

Summer’s here, which means:

• Sultry breezes are beckoning from the great outdoors
• School’s out
• Coworkers disappear, leaving mounds of undone work
• And the uppermost concern on your mind is: TANNING!

Not the real kind, of course. You know better than to lie out in the sun, exposing your body to hazardous (and worse, wrinkle-causing) UV rays. But you want to look as if you had done it. So you reach for the self-tanner.

No matter what kind of self-tanning product you use – cheap or expensive, lotion, spray, towelettes, dollar store makeup in a dark shade, or leftover coffee – if you don’t apply it correctly, you may as well stay inside all summer.

Getting the perfect self-tan means:

• No streaks. Apply your product, inspect the results, and if the color isn’t perfectly even (and it won’t be), apply more. Continue till perfect. You’ll probably need to set aside at least a week of your vacation for this.
• Not missing any spots. Remember to get the inner rims of your nostrils (your mucus membranes will adjust), the part in your hair, and your eyelids. You blink up to 20,000 times a day – that’s 20,000 chances to show the world you’re too clueless to put on self-tanner the right way.
• Changing your hair color, if necessary, to complement your tan. If your hair’s blonde or red, leaving it that way will make your fake tan look like an obvious fake tan. Ask yourself: Did your old Malibu Barbie look like a real woman? (Hint: Leftover coffee works on hair, too.)
• Constant touch-ups. Be ready to spend at least an hour a day fixing spots that seem to be fading. Remember what you have to do if you find any streaks!
• Stocking up on self-tanning product so you can do it all over again next winter and tell everyone you spent Christmas in the Bahamas.

Take the time to self-tan the right way, and I promise you your summers (and winters) will never be quite the same again!

Stories Maybe Better Left Untold

Now, you know there's got to be a story behind a coat of arms with a giant ram (?) in a crown, bursting out of a castle. (There seems to be a recurring theme of animals escaping.)

The other one -- the severed arm holding a sword with an animal's head and a heart impaled on it -- must have a story behind it, too, but I really don't think it's one I want to hear.

Elephant and -- what is that, anyway?

This came in the Dover Sampler a couple of weeks ago -- from a book of heraldic clipart.

Heraldry, which has absolutely no connection with anything I do in real life, is nonetheless sort of intriguing to me. Where else could you find something like this?

Supporters: A black and white elephant, covered with cross-like designs, who's apparently broken the chain on his collar and escaped; and a green cougar-like animal with a beaver's tail, a crown for a collar, another broken chain, and a stuck-out tongue.

Actually, they're the most interesting part of this coat of arms. The lion on top is almost a cliché, the motto is something unimpeachable about strength and truth, and the device itself is, it seems, a plain old red bullock standing on some wavy lines.

The book doesn't tell the reader whose arms they are, or anything else about them, but that would take it beyond clipart.

Review Backlash Chill

The Post says Alice Hoffman, annoyed by a review that said her latest book wasn't so good as her earlier work, vented on Twitter, calling the reviewer a "moron" and asking, "How do some people get to review books?"

Well, I got to write this review simply by offering. But maybe I should have been less scorchingly critical. "May be too challenging", for example -- I could have shown more restraint there. Maybe I should have been more grateful to the publishers who sent me a free copy of the book, more fearful of the wrath of the three authors, who, for all I know, have been tweeting angrily about me since the newsletter came out . . .