New York Times Puzzle

Just about daily since my college days in the late 1950s, I do the New York Times crossword.

Every night these days, promptly at 10PM (6 on weekends) Eastern time, I do the the next day's Times crossword in competition mode. That is, I "Play Against the Clock." The first 10 to finish, get "points" as do the fastest 10. The "fastest" scores are worthless because so many people cheat (they do the puzzle in the paper or in
the non-timed online version, and then speed type into the timed applet. I suspect some also just come HERE and copy the answers even doing the puzzles, although I can't quite figure out how that could be even remotely satisfying to them). So even though the points don't mean anything, at least the first 10 KNOW their points are honestly earned. The best I've ever finished was 4th (Sept. 21, 2008). I do these myself. If I Google for an answer, I'll tell you. Sometimes I even call in the other half for extra insight on a particularly tough one, and, if I do, I'll say so here.

Solutions are posted for one day only (a week for Sunday puzzles).

If you solve the syndicated dead-tree versions, these will be out of sync.

Off topic (well, sort of on-topic), you have just GOT to see this hand-painted wood sculpture by Randall Rosenthal (This guy is simply amazing).

Click on an image below to enlarge it.

ACROSTIC. 1/3/2010












Thursday rebus. ANT.














Sunday 1/3/2010.

(Note on rebus (i.e., multiple letters in a square) puzzles: With rebus puzzles, if you are doing the puzzle on the timed applet or in AcrossLite, you should enter ONLY the first letter of the rebus for the puzzle to be accepted).

Special note January 2, 1010...
Dear friends, I'm thinking of discontinuing this part of my blog. Puzzle solutions are available elsewhere, and I doubt that very many of you really NEED me for help. The NY Times blog is available, giving hints very early in the game, and Amy's blog has ALWAYS been there. So, let me know what you want, and I'll consider changing the blog appropriately. I'll still be doing the puzzles, of course. If you want me to keep going, just let me know.

The Obama Opera

OK, folks, I'm no fan of opera, but Laurie got this Obama Opera in the mail. A bit of web research shows that it was written by a chap named James Calvert, who I hope does not mind its reprinting here.

L'Obama, ossia L'Avvento del Messia
Opera in Tre Atti

Personaggi:

Barracco Obama, Il Messia, Redentore del Mondo......................................... Tenore Miracoloso
Santa Micaela della Revoluzione, sua sposa..................................................Soprano Amaro
Giovanni Maccheno, Senatore, Avversario dello Obama................................. Basso Buffo
Sara Palino, Governatrice del Alaska e Reginetta di Bellezza........................ Coloratura Buffa
Guglielmo Priapo, Ex-Presidente.................................................................. Tenore Mentitore
Hillaria, sua Sposa, altra Avversaria dello Obama........................................... Soprano Ambizioso
Elena Tomasso, una strega......................................................................... Contralto Venenoso
Giuseppe Bideno, "Piedimbocca"................................................................. Tenore Buffo
Il Spirito di Giorgio Secondo, L'Abominazione............................................... Baritono Cattivo
Il Spirito di Ruscio Limbago, Bocca Grande.................................................. Basso Noioso
Jeremia Ritto, un uomo pazzo, pastore dello Obama..................................... Basso Demagogico
Guglielmo Ayers, terroristo Americano, amico dello Obama........................... Tenore Anarchico
Un Sempliciotto......................................................................................... Tenore Profetica

Il Popolo, La Media Elite, Il Mondo, Il Congresso, Terroristi.

ATTO PRIMO
La Piazza del Cattedrale di Washington.

It is the day after the election. Outside the Washington Cathedral, the People and La Media Elite celebrate the victory of Barracco Obama over his adversary, Giovanni Maccheno (Coro: "Esultate! Il Messia è venuto!"). The World enters and joins The People in their celebration, singing their own chorus rejoicing in the fact that Obama's election will hasten the demise of American power and influence ("America è in debolezza, evviva!") The two choruses swell and merge in a powerful contrapuntal choral episode. As the chorus reaches its climax, trumpets herald the arrival of Lord Obama the Most Merciful, who enters with his wife, Santa Micaela della Revoluzione and his retinue. The crowd becomes frenzied, with some falling in a swoon ("Obama! Obama! Redentore del Mondo! Io manco!"). Obama heals two lepers and resurrects the dead daughter of a Washington policeman. He then addresses the crowd ("Nel posar sul mio capo la corona"). At the sound of his voice, the crowd falls silent, gazing up at him with adoring, vacant expressions. In an eloquent aria, Obama promises that the dark days of the Tyrant, Giorgio Secondo, are over ("Dopo si lunga notte") and a new Golden Age will dawn for the world under his rule ("Un siglo d'oro è venuto"): the economy shall heal, America's enemies shall beat their bomb jackets into plowshares, the lame shall walk, there will be a chicken in every pot, the whole world shall have universal health care, all the prisoners in Guantanamo Bay will be released, and planes shall arrive and take off on schedule. Each stanza of this great aria is punctuated by the chorus ("Ohmmm! Salvatore!") At its conclusion, Obama invites The People and The World to a celebration at which he will personally change the water into wine and feed the guests with seven croissants and five grande lattes. He enters the cathedral for his coronation, followed by the crowd.

>From the right, Giovanni Maccheno and Sara Palino enter the deserted piazza. Giovanni laments his loss of the election to Barracco Obama ("O mia vergogna!"). In a rambling, boring monologue sung in a monotone, he recites his brave history on the battlefield ("Si, fui soldato!") and wonders why this was not enough to get him elected 30 years later. In a lilting refrain ("Tu sei troppo vecchio"), Sara Palino suggests that it might be because he's a worn-out old has-been with the excitement level of a rusty AAA battery. She reminds him of her own qualifications for Vice-President ("Può vedere Russia dalla mia casa") and what a help she has been to him. To cheer him up, the perky Sara launches into one of the best known arias in the score, the brilliant coloratura Polonaise "Io son Regina di Bellezza," in which she sings of her experience as a beauty pageant contestant. But Giovanni is inconsolable: in a touching duet, he and Sara lament how they will now have to go wandering across the country, begging for speaking engagements ("Andrem raminghi è poveri"). Suddenly Giovanni hears someone approaching ("Ohimé, s'appressa alcun!") and he and Sara hide behind a column.

>From the left enter former President Guglielmo Priapo and his termagant wife, Hillaria. Hillaria is furious over her defeat at the hands of L'Obama in the primaries. In a passionate outburst ranging up to a shrill, wobbly high C, she rages that the Prize was within her grasp ("È mio! È tutto mio!"), but she was betrayed by La Media Elite who abandoned her for un altro amore. Must she live to see this upstart novice on the throne while she languishes in boring Senate committee meetings? Is it for this that she has suffered public humiliation and eaten shit sandwiches served by her husband for the past 35 years? No, it is too much! (È troppo! non reggo! soffoco!") Gugliemo counsels patience: her day will come, and L'Obama will overreach himself. He tells Hillaria that he has a plan to get them both back in la Casa Bianca, where she can rule while he chases interns. Just then he spots Guglielmo and Sara off to the side, and he begins to make a move on Sara. He tells her she is a real babe, and this develops into the famous Quartet, "Bella figlia dell'Alaska:" Guglielmo tries to grope Sara; Sara tells him a joke about lipstick on pitbulls; Hillaria sings that her day of vengeance will come; and Guglielmo stutters, in repetitive phrases, how Obama will raise everyone's taxes and endanger national security.

When the Quartet ends, the crowd surges out of the cathedral, proclaiming the new Messiah, followed by L'Obama in full regalia. A powerful concluding ensemble ensues: The People, the World and La Media Elite acclaim L'Obama; Barracco heals a lame man and exults in his new power; Giovanni Maccheno whines about the ingratitude of the American People while Sara Palino practices her baton twirling; Guglielmo plans that evening's rendezvous with his new cutie, while Hillaria plots her comeback. Unnoticed in the background, a small group of Islamic terrorists rejoice in Obama's election. Everyone then exits to follow Obama to the Reflecting Pool which he will walk on down the Mall to meet Il Congresso at Il Capitole.

The piazza is deserted and silent once more. Now enters the Simpleton, a crazy homeless man pushing a shopping cart filled with old newspapers. He sings a keening lament, weeping for the Motherland and the bitter years that lie ahead.

Cada il sipario lentamente.


ATTO SECONDO
Scena Primo: L'Offizia di Hillaria nel Capitole.

Hillaria is meeting with Guglielmo Priapo. She berates him for avoiding her and doing nothing to bring her any closer to la Casa Bianca ("Perché mi sfuggi?") Two years have passed, and she is still sitting in interminable committee meetings and having to pretend that she wants Obama to succeed! When is Guglielmo going to stop porking her pages and do something? Guglielmo replies that the two years have not exactly been wasted ("Deh, pensate!"): the hated, deposed Giorgio Secondo is dead, having been torn limb from limb by grieving war widows, mothers and children while he was giving a speech to a veteran's organization. Things have been going badly for Lord Obama as well, and Il Popolo are getting restless. The opportunity is ripening. And as an additional bonus, Ruscio Limbago has been driven from the airwaves by the revival of the Fairness Doctrine, which Obama has used to silence all effective opposition to him on radio and television. With no outlet for his hot air, Limbago floated off somewhere like an untethered balloon into the ether, presumably to his death. But Hillaria is not to be deterred: when is Guglielmo going to do something? ("Basta di parlare! Azione io voglio!") Guglielmo responds that he has done something: since Hillaria wants to know the future, he has arranged for the ancient Washington hag, Elena Tomasso, to visit Hillaria that very afternoon and tell her the future. Just at that moment, there is a knock on the door. Guglielmo leaves and Elena Tomasso enters, a hideous old woman with a tongue that drips poison.

Hillaria demands to know what the future holds for her ("Parlami dal futuro!"). In the impressive aria, "Re dell'abisso," Tomasso summons the spirit of Giorgio Secondo. His horrible visage rises from the floor, with bloody hands holding his very small brain. Giorgio demands to know who has summoned him and bemoans his fate in the afterlife ("Mal per me!"): condemned to be waterboarded eternally while his entrails are unwound and used to re-fence the ranch in Crawford. Hillaria demands to know her future ("Dimmi, o spirito!"). Giorgio replies in sepulchral tones that she has to ask one more powerful than him. To her horror, he summons the spirit of Ruscio Limbago, a disembodied fat head with a mouth twice normal size. In an eerie prophecy ("O Hillaria, Hillaria, Hillaria!") Limbago tells Hillaria that she will be L'Obama's successor, and that his days are numbered. But her reign will be as scandal-plagued as was her husband's, she will accomplish nothing of note, and she will die the same frustrated, bitter woman that she is. With a final cry of "Dittos!", the head of Limbago disappears in thunder and lightning. Hillaria, elated by the first part of the prophecy ("O lieto augurio!"), fails to hear the second part. Elena gives Hillaria a magic dagger, which she is to plunge into Obama's back when the opportunity presents itself. In an exultant cabaletta, Hillaria rejoices with the dagger ("O, acciar!"), while in pertichini Elena Tomasso mutters that this woman is nuts ("È una pazzarella!") and that she wants to stay as far away from her as possible.

Scena Secondo: L'Offiza Ovale nella Casa Bianca.

The Secretary of Education, Guglielmo Ayers, and Jeremia Ritto, the Commissar of Culture and Obama's spiritual advisor, are discussing the state of the administration. Ayers asks where Lord Obama is ("Obama d'ové?). Ritto replies that he is returning from his daily walk on the Potomac but that he has been delayed by having to drive some demons out of a herd of swine. Ayers notes that conditions in the country have been worsening and the people will soon be ready for The Revolution. In a buffo duet ("Un segreto d'importanza"), Ayers sings of his secret plan to radicalize kindergartners, while Ritto keeps up a steady contrapuntal patter ("God Damn America! God Damn America")

Lord Obama enters and after kissing his ring, Ritto and Ayers leave. Obama is in a foul mood, and he curses a rubber plant which promptly withers. Obama slumps at his desk and in the powerful monologue, "I have attained supreme power," he laments the how his dreams and hopes have turned sour. The economy has worsened, and famine stalks the land. A new terrorist attack has killed thousands, led by a jihadist Obama ordered released from Gitmo because his constitutional rights were being violated. The disillusioned, disappointed People are starting to curse his name, and lewd graffiti about Micaela have started to appear in the subways. He starts to pray for guidance ("Gran Dio, soccorrimi!") but stops when he remembers that religious activity of any kind on Federal property is now a criminal offense. He launches into a tuneful arietta about the futility of life ("Ho bastante di niente"). Micaela enters and begins to nag Obama about his failure to turn American into a Worker's Paradise ("La revoluzione dov'é?") Seeing his glum mood, she tries to cheer him up ("Mio caro sposino") and urges him to announce a new initiative at the upcoming State of the Union address. Encouraged by Micaela's words, Obama joins her in an exultant duet ("Ora di gloria s'appressa!) as the curtain falls.


ATTO TERZO
Il Capitole: la Camera della Casa dei Rappresentativi.

The Chamber is divided into two groups: I Repubblicani on one side, and I Democrati on the other. This is the famous "Coro dei Partisani" - the Repubblicani sing how, after four years in the minority, they are nothing but a bunch of impotent weasels ("Sono donnole impotente). The Democrati mock the Repubblicani for not even being able to sustain a filibuster ("Ha! Ha! Ha! Non hanno di 40!") Up on the dais, the Parlatrice della Casa dei Rappresentativi, Nana Pelosi, and the Vice-President, Giovanni Bideno sit on their thrones. Nana Pelosi trills happily, while Giovanni Biden can only grunt ("Hmpf! Hmpf! Hmpf!") because after two years of progressively embarrassing gaffes, his foot is by now permanently implanted in his mouth. Giovanni Maccheno enters and sits with I Repubblicani, immediately putting the Senators on either side of him to sleep. Sara Palino sits in the balcony, primping for the cameras and doing her nails.

Lord Obama enters the chamber and the politicians crowd around him sycophantically. A woman touches the hem of his robe and is healed of an issue of blood. He progresses solemnly to the dais and begins his speech ("Ascoltami, Congresso!"). But no sooner has he begun to speak than the distant angry murmur of a crowd is heard approaching. The members of Congress all start in alarm ("Quai gridi!"). One of the Capitol police enters and announces, in frightened tones, that Il Popolo are approaching in an angry mob with scythes and pitchforks. L'Obama orders them to be admitted, and the mob rushes in ("Vendetta! Strage! Sterminio!"). They've had enough of two years of disappointment, failure and betrayal, and they want Real Change ("Vero cangia vogliamo!") Jeremia Ritto rushes around crazily, shouting "God Damn America!" L'Obama rebukes the crowd for its behaviour ("Quest'è dunque del Popolo la voce?"): didn't they just acclaim him as their Salvatore two years before? Fistfights break out between the Repubblicani and the Democrati.

In an impassioned plea, Obama calls for peace ("Plebe! Patrizi! Popolo!") Moved by his appeal, Il Popolo and Il Congresso quiet down. But just as L'Obama resumes his speech, a cry is heard ("Guarda nel balcone!"): Sara Palino has begun twirling flaming batons in the Gallery while singing an inane coloratura ditty ("Belle fiamme"). While all attention is focused on Sara, Hillaria dashes up to the dais and plunges the dagger into Obama's back ("Quest'è il bacio di Hillaria"). When attention returns to the front, everyone sees Hillaria standing where L'Obama was, rejoicing in her new-found power ("Salgo giä nel Presidencia aurata!") As everyone proclaims the new queen ("Regina tu sei!"), Sara Palino remarks on how her and Hillaria's plan worked after all, and announces that her agreed-upon reward is that in the new administration, she will be Secretary of State so that she can get some foreign policy experience for her Presidential run in 2012. The crowd reacts ("Orror! Orror! Orror!").

Cada il sipario rapidamente.

We went to the Antiques Roadshow

This was our second trip to the Antiques Roadshow. The First must have been 10 years ago, to the New Jersey Meadowlands Arena. No tickets, just show up and stand on line forever. They've improved a bit lately; now tickets are issued on a lottery basis, and admission times are set.


So.....
We just came back from the Hartford show, and have a few comments:
1. They had no idea how many paintings would show up. The line for paintings had to be 4 - 6 hours long. If you go, just try to avoid bringing paintings (of course, ONE of the paintings at 2008 Hartford came in at 500K. Watch for it in January 2009!!! (Not mine, though, we gave up and quit the paintings line at 7 PM -- our enter time was 2 PM)

2. I guess in CT, they expected lots of furniture, but the Keno brothers stood around most of the day doing almost nothing. It took me a couple of hours to get a one-off silkscreen print appraised (and I was VERY happy) and a good bit less for my wife to take a handmade pewter picture frame through "Decorative Arts" (also a happy experience).

I suggest that if you apply for tickets, try for the earliest time slot they have. Book a room for the night before. At least, if you enter at 8 AM, no one's ahead of you, especially if you have paintings or prints; again, the earlier you get in, the shorter lines you will encounter. The appraisers may be able to spend a little more time with you, too. Break up your lots, so you and your roadshow partner can split up and go on two lines at the same time. In Hartford, EVERYONE seemed to have a painting! Except for Posters and Prints, everything else moved apace.

GOOD LUCK (and bring a chair for your butt and a cart for your stuff).



Go for it!

I loved this book.

This past Spring (2008) I caught an interview with the author of this book on a Philadelphia NPR station, and KNEW I had to read the book.


"The Soloist: A Lost Dream, an Unlikely Friendship, and the Redemptive Power of Music" by Steve Lopez

This is a musician's book. Any musician or lover of classical music will treasure it. I know I did.

It's about Nathaniel Ayers, a promising musician who went mad (paranoid schitzophrenia) while at Juilliard (on a full scholarship, no less), and ended up on the Los Angeles streets, playing a 2-string violin in the shadow of a statue of Beethoven. It was noted that one of his Juilliard string bass teachers, Gary Karr, was one of the first people who recognized what was happening to Ayers.

I used to play bass myself, and had met Gary Karr, so I felt connected to this story. It often brought tears to my eyes. I ordered the book as soon as I learned about it. A high-budget movie is in production and scheduled to be released in April 2009.

May 1. The book has arrived, and I've gone through 6 chapters. It's very moving. I usually read books very quickly, but not this one.

May 3. I finished the book in four sittings. There were times I got very emotional. The thought of perfect strangers giving violins, cellos and even a piano to a homeless street person with such serious mental issues was heartwarming, to say the least. Lopez spent 2 years with the man, working small miracles, inches at a time. The book ends. Not a happy ending, not a sad ending. It just... ends, and we all know it continues past the last page.

I await the movie. Mind you, I don't LIKE movies, and seldom go. THIS one, I'll see.

April 27, 2009. Well, I saw the movie. If you've read the book, you can skip the flick. It doesn't come close. If you haven't read the book, and don't intend to, see the movie. I give it 3.5 stars.

Better yet, just go read the damn book. it is POWERFUL.

Read a more detailed book review here.

Please leave a comment if you've read this book.

Note 5/11: It's now 24th on the NY Times Best Seller list (nonfiction, hard cover)

Note: 3/22/09: 60 Minutes just ran a segment on Ayres/Lopez. You can read Steve Lopez's L.A. Times articles here .

GRAVLAX RECIPE

TOO GOOD TO BE MISSED. Try it! Enjoy!
Based on a recipe in the New York Times Cookbook (Revised Edition)
GRAVLAX
1 (3 1/2-to-4 lb) center cut of salmon, filleted but with skin left intact.
(OK, we've been buying skinless farm-raised salmon at Costco. It's fine. Having the skin on makes it easier to cut after it's done, especially near the tail. OTOH, the skinless Costco fillets don't have any brown fat along the lateral line. Most people prefer not having that part, though)
3 tablespoons peppercorns (OK, LARGE, crushed peppercorns, via the supermarket) but not ordinary ground pepper
5 tablespoons sugar
3 tablespoons kosher salt or sea salt (coarse)
2 to 3 bunches (about 1/4 lb. dill sprigs

1. Carefully run the fingers over the boned surface of the fillet, especially over the center line. Use a pair of tweezers to pull out and remove any bones that may remain. Discard the bones.

2. Put the peppercorns on a flat surface and crush them coarsely with a mallet or the bottom of a clean skillet, or crush them in a mortar. If you have a peppermill that grinds coarse pieces, use that. Put the pepper in a small bowl and add the salt and sugar. Mix. Of course you can simply BUY coarse ground pepper. That's what WE do.

3. Cut the salmon fillet in half crosswise and place the two halves skin side down in one layer. COAT LIBERALLY the two pieces of fish with the salt-pepper-sugar mixture. Food TV Emeril doesn't cut it in half. He also adds vodka. Be creative.

4. Find a roasting pan or tupperware large enough to hold the larger half of the fish. Line it with aluminum foil that’s more than twice the size of the pan (you’re going to wrap the fish in it). Put a layer of dill on the foil. Put the larger fillet skin down on the dill. Put another layer of dill on the top (flesh side of the fish that’s coated with the mix). Now put the other fillet flesh down on the dill, and add a bit more dill on the skin side that’s now on top and facing you. Close the foil around the whole thing.

4. It’s going to leak! (Your fingers will smell soooooo nice.) Take the foil pack out of the pan and wrap it up in freezer paper, and seal with masking tape. NOW wrap THAT in a plastic grocery bag, squooshing out the air. Seal IT with masking tape or similar. Yeah, it'll still leak. Put it back in the pan. Get something flat, like a cutting board, and put it on the package. Get a brick, or free weights, or even a couple of cans from the pantry, and put it on the flat thing, so that the fish is being pushed down. NOW PUT IT IN THE REFRIGERATOR.

5. Turn the fish package in the morning and evening at the very least, so you are weighting down each side two or three times a day. If you can schedule the turn every 8 hours, fine. OTOH, some people say that the turning is unnecessary. Perhaps, but then, you wouldn't FEEL like you're actually doing anything, so, TURN THE DAMN THING!

Emeril says that 24 hours does it, but we go 2 1/2 days. I think that's a half day too long, but the boss insists. The longer it goes, the drier it gets. Why fight? It's still wonderful.

6. Wash everything off (we wash off most of the pepper) and dab dry with paper towels before slicing thin-thin-thin at an angle. Lately, I've been cutting the filets in half (the long way, down the fish's lateral line) before slicing. The resulting pieces are smaller and it's much easier to cut than going all the way across. The pieces are also closer to bite-size and fit nicely on crackers, plus the smaller slices plate nicely.

7. Eat the traditional way on a bagel (I prefer a bialy) or even just plain!

The Scandinavians dip their gravlax in a mustard sauce.
1/4 cup prepared spicy-brown mustard
1/4 cup Dijon mustard
6 tablespoons white wine vinegar
6 tablespoons sugar
Salt and pepper to taste
1 cup corn, peanut or vegetable oil
1 cup chopped dill
2 tablespoons cognac

1. Put the mustards, vinegar, sugar, salt and pepper into a mixing bowl.
2. Start beating with a wire whisk whilst adding the oil in a thin, steady stream. At the end, add the cognac.

We don't do the dip. We just put it on a bagel, or a bialy, or even on a cracker with chive cream cheese. A local shop makes the cream cheese with chives daily (aren't WE lucky!). A few capers and/or onions or scallions are a nice touch on top if you make canapes.

Eat. Share if you must.

Did you try this recipe? How did YOURS turn out? (ours is always wonderful.)

###

How I built a Macintosh G4 Tower. Sort of.

(Actually done November 2007)

Trash to treasure - build a G4 Macintosh from junk parts.

Well, my trusty G4/867 Quicksilver bit the dust. When I bought the new G5 iMac, it was relegated to the upstairs loft, where my wife used it for email, solitaire, mah jongg and some word processing. Nothing really important, but it was her computer. AND it was dead. AND she was starting to complain about using MY computer. I offered her the vacation home G5 iMac, but noooooo, she wanted to keep using the 17" video display.... So not only was the computer dead, things around the house were starting to get a bit... noisy.

SO, I took a look at it. What the hell, it does have that nice side door and loads of room inside, and I AM a ham radio guy, so I figured I'd at least give it a look. You can't kill something TWICE, after all, so in I went. Once I unplugged it and removed the cables, it was obvious (logical, anyway) what had happened -- all the vent holes were sealed shut with seven years' worth of grime. It seemed apparent that the power supply had simply baked itself to death.

But I had a good investment in this baby. Over the years I had swapped out the CD-RW drive for a CD/DVD SuperDrive ($275) and it DID have that thousand dollar 17" cinema display, after all.

I sure didn't want to spring for a new power supply, either. Not only the cost, but simply removing the old and installing the replacement looked daunting.

What to do, what to do? The answer turned out to be on eBay. Right there in front of me was a G4/867 on a one-day auction. Easy enough. I bought this baby for $89 (!) plus shipping cross-country -- $140 in total.

Then I took apart the dead one. The Superdrive came out, the RAM and the 60 gig hard drive. A little research said that I could stack the two HDs together in the eBay special; I just had to move a jumper on one from Master to Slave position. So now there are 2 HDs (60 + 40) in there. No data lost, either. Wifey's original 60 gig was perfect. I swapped out the CD drive for the SuperDrive easy enough, and combined the RAM to 1.28 gigs (near double what I had previously). Plugged it in and VOILA! -- A like-new (well, a working) Quicksilver. Almost. Seems that the previous owner must have poked out the speaker (a common problem with that design). So, back to el morto Mac and I removed the internal speaker. This speaker doesn't have a jack (at least I didn't find one) -- so I had to clip the speaker wires -- but it's out and ready to be soldered into the eBay special. But, because I have the original Mac clear acrylic globe speakers plugged in, I haven't bothered to take it apart yet and wire the speaker in.

All of this work took less than an hour. You gotta admit, an hour and $140 for a G4/867 Mac ain't bad.

Plus, I now have a spare video card, some other card, a CD RW drive, a dead power supply to play with, a replacement motherboard, two spare 128 meg DIMMS, a spare internal ZIP drive, AND a box. I could have used one special tool -- a small Phillips head screwdriver with the clip on the end to hold the screw in place until the threads catch. You need that for changing the optical drive (or, you can do what I did and just use some scotch tape to hold it for a few seconds).

So yes Virginia, there IS a Santa Claus. You can kluge together a G4 Mac for next to nothing. Buy a couple of identical Mac towers and build your own. Try to find ONE with a SuperDrive, and lots of of RAM. The G4 has three slots and they don't have to be filled with identical DIMMS. Look for Macs with 896 megs of RAM (512 + 256 + 128) or more so you have a nice assortment to combine (512 + 512 + 256, or even another 512 if you get really lucky). Mine ended up with 1280 -- not bad since the machine maxes out at 3 512s, or 1536, so it's "close enough" to max. Not bad, if I say so myself. It's also running 10.4.11, and (because it's a G4/867) is even Leopard-compatible.

And don't forget to vacuum those vents on the back every once in a while.

Edit: 12/3/2008 -- The FrankenMac stopped working!! Horrors!! I opened it up and wife, who was standing there, took one look and pointed, saying "is that a battery?" So I went into the attic, yanked the battery out of the old parts Mac, and... TADA!!! All's well with the world again! (I ordered a new one on the web right away). 12/9 -- the battery came, and it's in and running well. Thank you, Apple, for making the battery very easy to find, and pop-outtable (not soldered in). Then I downloaded the Widget MAINTIDGIT and installed it. Wow! The crons haven't run for 6 months! I forgot to repair permissions, though; that's the next job. Still haven't soldered in the internal speaker yet, either. I wonder where I put it....

Edit: 7/30/2009... It's dead again -- won't turn on. Maybe the power supply. Not worth fixing any more, so I'll pull out all the parts and try to sell them on eBay. I wanted an excuse to buy a new Intel Mac, anyway. Maybe even an iMac AND a MBP! Time to upgrade. Wife can have one of the the G5 iMacs and I'll sell the other. Divorce can be so painful (and expensive).

Ouch!

All of the following took place in 2006.
I've learned that some of you have been watching this space and studying my recovery timeline. I hope that your recoveries go as well as mine. In summary, 4 months after the break, I'm walking with a limp and climbing stairs O.K (going DOWN is more difficult to me), and driving my manual transmission truck is easy. I opted out of rehab, claiming that I'll walk a lot and climb lots of stairs. If any of you have opted FOR Physical Theraphy, let me know how it's going and if you recommend it or not. Or just tell me what you're doing along those lines.

Jan. 16, 1 PM. I slipped on a patch of ice whilst brushing some snow off the truck's windshield. While still on my ass, I notied that my left foot was gang aglay. It moved back with a pop. So I crawled back to the house and rang the doorbell. When Laurie answered it, I think I said something, in a cool and calm manner, like "Please, dear, phone 911 and tell them that I've fallen and believe that my ankle is broken." Actually, it wasn't quite that collected, and I don't think I actually used those words...
End result: Broken fibula at midpoint, and broken tibia, at the back, at the ankle. Temp splint on it for tonite, and tomorrow I call the orthopedic guy. I'll probably need surgery to fix torn ligaments, too.

Observation: You cannot move 300 lbs on a pair of crutches.

Observation #2. I'll probably miss Stamford this year (2006), too. That REALLY hurts.

1/17 follow-up: Orthopedic surgeon looked at my leg. He wants me to see an ankle specialist. Tendons are torn pretty badly. Another day or riding around and waiting, waiting, waiting... Renting a wide wheelchair tomorrow. I'll probably buy a walker, too. Hate them crutches.
1/18 follow-up: Saw the surgeon today. Only the fibula is broken, and also the tibia at the ankle, which is all messed up. I'm going to get SCREWED! Next week, they will put a screw into the bone and pull it all together. The tendons and sinews and whatever will then heal by themselves. We shall see.
1/21 My builder came by today to see about building a wheelchair ramp. He'll do it early next week. A nice temporary one, about 20 feet long. It was 61 degrees here today! Hard to believe that I fell on the ICE to do this to myself!
1/24 NOW they tell me I need a pre-op blood workup. It's astounding that when I was at the surgeon's office and they told me that tomorrow they'd be operating, that they just didn't stick me then and there and take out their vial of blood. My last test was 10/25 -- apparently too long ago (and I told them when it was) but now I'm supposed to hobble out of the house and somehow get down the stairs and into a car so they can do a simple withdrawal from my vein. Such an effort is huge. Oh. Let's not forget that Medicare wants a week to even approve the blood test!!

Now the two doctors are "discussing" it. They'll "get back" to me.

P.S. Well, they DID get back to me at 10 AM - Thank heavens for small favors: I have to be at the hospital tomorrow at 7 AM. They will do blood and EKG then, and surgery in the afternoon, I think. Why 7 AM? Who knows. So I have to leave here at 6, in the dark, and with ice crystals on the walk, no doubt. My guess is that I'll be there at the appointed hour, and then spend most of the day waiting and waiting. Did I say that this "surgery" involves putting a screw in my ankle, and that the entire procedure takes less than 10 minutes? I will bet that I won't get home until tomorrow night. At least I don't have to move my fat body today at all! Hoorah!!

Oh. I called my builder. The ramp won't be done until maybe Thursday. So tomorrow I'll have to drag my fat ass up a couple of steps when I get home from surgery. I was really hoping for that ramp!
1/28 Things didn't quite go as expected last Wednesday. In pre-op, when they cut off the splint, they didn't like a few things (discoloraton that could have indicated a clot, and a skin condition that might have been an infection), so they decided to admit me and put me on IV antibiotics, I also had doppler (ultrasound) of the leg. No clot, and the "infection" was just cellulitis. Today (Saturday) at noon they finally brought me down to the OR. They clamped the bones together from the outside and put two screws into the ankle. Also a plaster cast for the nonce. And, yes, about 6 weeks before I can put weight on it.

Oh! The ramp is EXCELLENT!
1/30 Wife loves the ramp -- says it's great for bringing in the groceries. I have to watch my step. I'm getting cocky and am taking longer strides on the walker. This will definitely lead to a fall. Builder came by for his money. I asked hin to cut a wood floor for the shower stall to bring it even with the shower door bottom trim. Then I can slide across-and-down to get out. Now I have to lift-swing-across-and-down to get out. This additional lifting and swinging is very difficult.

2/2 Last night I had some real pain. Not in the ankle, but in the ball of the foot - like a muscle knot. Took a couple of Motrin. I hope this is a good sign that things are happening down there and healing has begun. Man! I can roll around in bed and sleep on either side easily. Today I saw the doctor.



2/9 The big splint came off and a fiberglass cast is on. 5 weeks in the cast! Next appointment 3/16 (exactly 2 months after the accident).

2/10 This cast, which I now call my EXOSKELETON, is heavy and uncomfortable. I liked the splint better! It's rough, hard as a rock and tight, though I understand that my leg will shrink in it over the next few weeks. This is not going to be fun! Here's a shot of the exoskeleton:

2/13 HOLY SHIT! Today I got a statement from the hospital for my 4 day stay. Between the emergency room and the 4 days, I owe the hospital almost TWENTY THOUSAND DOLLARS!! This doesn't include doctors, either. I'm covered under Medicare and also Aetna as a secondary so I don't think too much of that will have to be paid by ME. But, we shall see. We shall see.

2/18 OK. The 1400 dollar ER charges will come to $165 on my end, and I can handle that. The 18,000 hospital stay is still up in the air. Keep tuned.

3/2 The exoskeleton seems to be getting looser. Probably a combination of the swelling going down and atrophy. Anyway, 3 weeks are gone and 2 to go until the cast comes off. No new communicaions from the hospital.

3/16 The cast is off, and now I have an inflatable boot! Jeez, It looks like I'm about to go skiing! I have to wear this for a month until my next appointment. I'm allowed to put weight on the leg, but still need the walker. At least I can take it off and take a REAL shower without plastic bags, and sleep in comfort. It looks kinda cool, dontcha think?
4/3 So far, MY share of medical bills are about $1000, with more to come. It's early in the year, and there are deductibles to be met -- apparently about 2K, so it's explained away. Still, I'm well on my way to an itemized income tax return next April.

4/8 I haven't used the walker now for several days. Not at all. I can hobble down the ramp and walk to the mailbox (300') so I'm really on a roll now. Still wearing the boot/walking cast thing, and if I get up in the middle of the night, I can walk on my unsupported leg, but I'm very wary of doing so. I sorta walk without moving the left ankle. But -- it's PROGRESS!

4/20 I am back from the doctor, and have been freed from the "boot." I walk gingerly, and with a limp but I have been FREED from my chains. I'm taking a strong antibiotic for a small infection around the scar, but otherwise I'm pretty good. The new X-rays of the leg show great healing of the broken fibula. It's amazing how the bone ends reach out to each other and mend themselves. Total time from the break -- just about 3 months. My next appointment is May 11.

He has no intention of removing the screws. Ever. If they break, fine.

I cleared boat work with the doctor, and I'm O.K. to start, but Laurie has some rehearsals, concerts and choral group management things yet ahead, so it looks like a very late start to the season. If we can find a few contiguous days with good weather, we'll head down to MD to start work.

May 10 -- a milestone. I took the ramp apart this morning. Tiring work. Tomorrow I'll get out the circular saw and cut the 4 20' planks down to 6 footers so I can take 'em down to MD in the truck. Half the screws on the boards broke, so I'll be working hard with a vise-grip to remove them. Yeah, I'm still limping. I have an appointment tomorrow with the doctor, and we'll pack up the wheelchair and walker so we can return them to the drugstore.

May 11 -- MD says I'm doing fine, and not to come back until mid-September. I should walk a lot. He expects 4 - 6 months more for a complete recovery. Returned the wheelchair, but the walker is now mine (paid for). I tried to give back the boot for charity or something, but it was refused. Apparently Medicaid pays for them for the indigent.

May 27 -- I'm walking down the stairs facing forward again. Slowly and carefully, but more normally. Things ARE improving.

September 3 -- Well, here's an update. The foot is still swollen. I didn't go for PT, and I now regret it. Forced exercise would have been much better than no exercise. At least I have a ton of stairs to negotiate at our vacation home, and that's fine exercise several times a day. I still have some minor discomfort around the ankle. Look. I'm almost 68, vastly overweight and lead a sedentary life. All things considered, my progress isn't bad. Fall (Autumn, that is) is upon us, so pleasant walks in the woods will become more regular. Next doctor's appointment is September 14th. And, would you believe... I'm STILL getting bills from hospital personnel I don't even remember! What a fricken ripoff. You go in the hospital, you come out. All the charges should be on that one piece of paper. Everyone's a damned independent contractor. It's easier to pay for building a new house than it is to pay for a stinkin' busted leg and ankle. No doubt about it -- Medicare's getting ripped off!

September 14 -- All things come to an end, and today this saga is over. Been to the doctor, I'm fine (even though there's probably some scar tissue inside the foot) and unless I have some pain in the ankle, I'm on my own again. The bad news is that I have an appointment with my periodontist on January 16 -- the same day I broke my leg, going to the same periodontist. I'm not superstitious, but I DO intend to be very, very careful.

November, 2006 -- I made my hotel reservations for the Crossword Tournament in Stamford 2007. This is probably the last one to be held in Stamford, and I don't want to miss it. I'll tell you ONE thing -- I'm pertty damn careful where and how I set my foot down now. Once was enough.

I grew up in Bayonne, NJ.

Long the fodder of stand-up comics, Bayonne hangs in there like a small town in Ohio. It's an anachronism - a trip down Bayonne's streets today is like the same trip 50 years ago, so little seems to have changed. I think it's because Bayonne is, well, secluded. The only way in is to the North, except for the Bayonne bridge to Staten Island, and there are only a couple of entrances to the North. The Central Railroad of New Jersey, long gone, has been replaced by a modern light rail line, which could help make the town a commuter's heaven. IF they ever discover it. The waterfront, right in New York Harbor and on 3 full sides, could make the town the yachting capital of the East coast, IF it were ever developed with that in mind. I just learned that waterfront condos were going up on the old Elco Boat Works property, around 26th St., on the Newark Bay side. They only plan a 65 slip marina, which I think is only a few slips more than what's there today, and, while it is well protected, it sure is a long run from there to the Lower New York Bay and out under the Narrows Bridge. But HEY! It's a start! Back in the early 50's, there was even an open fishing boat (a party boat, or head boat, depending on where you're from) operating from the Southern tip of the city -- maybe at the foot of Avenue C -- where I went fishing for the first time. Maybe it wasn't even an open boat -- it may have been a charter, hired by the men of Temple Beth Am. It was a pretty small boat, wood (of course) and I won the pool with a small sea bass. That's where I got hooked on fishing and boats.

My parents are long gone and the house I grew up in was razed 25 years ago. I don't think the tulip beds are maintained in Hudson County Park (by the guy with the short leg and 2" soled shoes) like they were when I was there, and plenty else has changed. But not that much. I drive through Bayonne when I go to visit my daughter's family in Brooklyn, and it always brings back the same memories, and the same comments.

Just recently, in the Summer of '06, my sister and her husband took a trip to Eastern Europe, and in a restaurant in Prague happened to chat with some other Americans. These people were from Dallas. Well, the ladies chatted and it turned out that the one my sister was talking with ALSO came from Bayonne. And lived on the same street as we did (Avenue B). 3 houses apart (on the other side) And were a year in age apart. And used to walk to school together. Neither one recognized the other!

Sister also went to a reunion of No. 3 School recently. She keeps more in touch with old friends than I do, apparently. My HS reunion was held this year. It was held in Atlantic City, and I didn't go. I would have if it had been held in Bayonne, though.

Our parents were both teachers in Bayonne; dad in Bayonne Tech and mom in Washington School.


Are YOU from Bayonne? I graduated from BHS in '56 - the Garnet and White. Uncle Miltie's (Named for its owner, Milton Tone, and not for Milton Berle. Sure.) . Botwinik's. The JCC, perhaps. The Jersey Giants at Roosevelt Stadium and the drive-in. My '56 DeSoto and learning to drive down at Constable Hook. Pizza at Dido's, too. Leave me a note!

Speaking of Bayonne...

My email brought this one in, and made me think back to those days again. I just dunno, this poem just gets to me. After all, Sandra Dee DID grow up in Bayonne, and I AM that certain age...

The Land of Sandra Dee
By Anonymous (as cited by Leland Waltrip)

Long ago and far away, In a land that time forgot,
Before the days of Dylan, or the dawn of Camelot,

There lived a race of innocents, and they were you and me,
Long ago and far away, in the Land of Sandra Dee.

Oh, there was truth and goodness, in that land where we were born,
Where navels were for oranges, and Peyton Place was porn.

For Ike was in the White House, and Hoss was on TV,
and God was in his heaven, in the Land of Sandra Dee.

We learned to gut a muffler. We washed our hair at dawn.
We spread our crinolines to dry, in circles on the lawn.

And they could hear us coming all the way to Tennessee,
all starched and sprayed and rumbling, in the Land of Sandra Dee.

We longed for love and romance, and waited for the prince,
And Eddie Fisher married Liz, and no one's seen him since.

We danced to "Little Darlin" And Sang to "Stagger Lee"
and cried for Buddy Holly, in the Land of Sandra Lee.

Only girls wore earrings then, and three was one too many,
and only boys wore flat-top cuts, except for Jean McKinney.

And only in our wildest dreams, did we expect to see
a boy named George with Lipstick, in the Land of Sandra Dee.

We fell for Frankie Avalon, Annette was oh, so nice,
and when they made a movie, they never made it twice.

We didn't have a Star Trek Five, Or Psycho Two and Three,
or Rockey-Rambo Twenty, in the Land of Sandra Dee.

Miss Kitty had a heart of gold, and Chester had a limp,
and Reagan was a Democrat, whose co-star was a chimp.

We had a Mr. Wizard, but not a Mr. T,
and Oprah couldn't talk yet, in the Land of Sandra Dee.

We had our share of heroes; we never thought they'd go;
at least not Bobby Darin, or Marilyn Monroe.

For youth was still eternal, and life was yet to be,
and Elvis was forever, in the Land of Sandra Dee.

We'd never seen the rock band that was Grateful to be Dead,
And Airplanes weren't named Jefferson, and Zeppelins weren't Led.

And Beatles lived in gardens then, and Monkees in a tree,
Madonna was a virgin, in the Land of Sandra Dee.

We'd never heard of Microwaves, or telephones in cars,
and babies might be bottle-fed, but they weren't grown in jars.

And pumping iron got wrinkles out, and "gay" meant fancy-free,
and dorms were never coed, in the Land of Sandra Dee.

We hadn't seen enough of jets to talk about the lag,
And microchips were what was left at the bottom of the bag.

And Hardware was a box of nails and bytes came from a flea,
And rocket ships were fiction, in the Land of Sandra Dee.

Buicks came with portholes and side show came with freaks,
and bathing suits came big enough to cover both your cheeks.

And Coke came just in bottles and skirts came to the knee,
and Castro came to power in the Land of Sandra Dee.

We had no Crest with Fluoride; we had no Hill Street Blues;
we all wore superstructure bras designed by Howard Hughes.

We had no patterned pantyhose or Lipton herbal tea
Or prime-time ads for condoms, in the Land of Sandra Dee.

There were no golden arches; No Perriers to chill,
and fish were not called Wanda, and cats were not called Bill.

And middle-aged was thirty-five, and old was forty-three,
and ancient was our parents, in the Land of Sandra Dee.

But all things have a season, or so we've heard them say,
and now instead of Maybelline, we swear by Retin-A.

And they send us invitations to join AARP,
We've come a long way, baby, from the Land of Sandra Dee.

So now we face a brave new world, in slightly larger jeans,
and wonder why they're using smaller print in magazines.

And we tell our children's children of the way it used to be,
Long ago and far away, in the Land of Sandra Dee.

_____________________________________________________________________

• Sandra Dee passed away in February 2008 at the age of 62. Time doesn't stop.

A homeowner's tale of woe, or...PHENOSEAL®...NOT!

Phenoseal® is a product made by DAP. It's a nice, white sealant that my builder uses a lot. Well, I had a nice tiled seat built in my shower when we remodeled a few years ago, and I recently noticed that some of the grout was cracked and missing. Out came the tube of Phenoseal. It looked great! Then, maybe a month or two later, I noticed a spot of hard goop on the shower floor, which I had to remove with a razor blade. Also, some of the tiles on the front of the seat (vertical) were coming loose. Puzzled for a while, the light finally went on, and I called DAP to find out if something in the Phenoseal could react with the tile cement, and could the Phenoseal actually melt??

The answer was YES. It seems that the Phenoseal re-emulsifies in standing water, like on the seat top, and it oozed down behind the face tiles. So I pried some of them off, and, to my surprise, there was NO tile cement at all on the backs of the tiles. Only wet, sticky, molten Phenoseal. Now I'm prying off those face tiles, trying to get my builder over to retile the front of the seat (the flat tiles on the top of the seat, where I actually PUT the Phenoseal, still look OK, but I have my doubts about them, now) and get my downstairs shower in working condition again.

Of course, I never found any disclaimer or warning about this on the package -- although I'm sure it must be there in 8 point type -- so now I'm stuck with both a mess AND a couple of hundred dollar repair job.

So friends, be careful about using caulking of any type on flat surfaces -- especially PHENOSEAL.

Pheonseal is sold by a number of marine chandlers for use as a boat sealer. I would NEVER allow it on my boat, knowing now what it does and how it performs in a wet environment. IT IS CRAP!!!

O.K., call me crazy, but I really think a sealant should... seal.

DAP REPLIES:

"Thank you for contacting DAP Inc. with your inquiry, based on the description of your application in your "blog" it would appear that the product that the product that you selected was not the best choice for your intended application. DAP Phenoseal Vinyl Adhesive Caulk Does It All is a water based adhesive/sealant formula which is not recommended for use in below waterline applications (FOR BEST RESULTS: Do not use below waterline.)...

Based on the description of your application, we would generally recommend the use of a 100% Silicone Rubber Sealant.

Thank you, Jason"

"NOT RECOMMENDED?" That's an understatement, if I ever saw one. Then WHY do they call it (and these are THEIR words) "DAP Phenoseal Vinyl Adhesive Caulk Does It All?" "For best results..." Jeez. What an understatement. In a submerged environment, it simply FAILS. BEST RESULTS???

In my mind, these bastards still owe me $200, to boot.

Follow-ups:
September 18, 2006. I finished cleaning the affected area and re-cemented 4 new tiles onto the front of the seat. On Tuesday, I'll clean out some of the grout on the seat and grout the whole area. I never did this before, so I have hopes but not expectations. By Thursday evening, the shower should be ready for use again. If there's any more Phenoseal damage, I'll report back.
August 18, 2007. I see a face half tile on the end is starting to stick out. This wasn't one that I replaced previously, I don't think. I'll let it come out some more before I try to remove it. What a fricken mess. I hope the whole world reads about this garbage product.

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