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To Whom Are You Drinking Right Now?


starfish

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To my buddy (and screen name) Tujague Moreau, 18 years old this week, born in the back of VW bus in Alma, Wisconsin, named for the legendary French Quarter bar, and second-place winner in this year's Hill Rag "Top Cat" contest. I'm drinking; he's celebrating with a nap.

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Whom What: I lift a mug to Borders.

During my many years in Ann Arbor, the flagship store was almost always in between home and my department. Secondhand stores were where you went for fiction or books in my own field, but its History and Religion sections were second homes, as useful to roam as library stacks and sometimes even better since you could catch up on trends or discover exactly what you had to know or wanted to research. Even after its stunning, first expansion in the space where Shaman Drum ultimately moved, there was no place to get coffee or cute, zippered pencil boxes. Just lovingly carpentered, polished wood shelves filled with rows and rows of bound volumes, their glossy covers illuminated and heft due to pages upon pages of printed text. When the department store across the street folded shortly after the new Borders opened, a decision was made to take over a retail space over two or three times larger. It was impossible to transfer the character of the original space to a more modern, dreary architectural box and the effect was deadening. Still, there were those shelves of books that responded to the surrounding academic community. It was in that store as much as it was in the classroom and at my desk that I learned how much context matters. As exciting and reassuring as it was to discover Borders in the new cities where I moved, the loss of that context changed the culture of the store. There was nothing distinctive about it anymore. A shift in identity politics pushed it closer to the edge and Borders lost its soul. As we say our goodbyes, at least those of us who live here can be grateful to the couple who took over Politics and Prose, and to whatever it is that keeps Second-Story Books alive.

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To Matt, who made me double over laughing at Bistrot Le Zinc tonight. (Forgive the parental story, but this was funny!)

He was trying to theorize that it might be a good idea in tennis to hit underspin on your serve; I was trying to explain why it won't work against a good player, that you have to toss the ball high, thrust your body weight up, and hit down on the ball from a high position (and that it would be impossible to hit underspin with a high toss).

I then said, "who would you rather fight, a chihuahua, or a giraffe?"

As soon as I said it, I realized it wasn't the best analogy, and of course he picked up on it.

"Honestly ... a giraffe."

"Why?"

"Well, first of all, they're slow as dirt."

I then began to collect my thoughts, trying to figure out a way to say that they really aren't all that slow (NB I since Googled it and they can run at 35 mph)

So I started to explain that ... no, they really aren't all that sl...

"And second of all, they're herbivores."

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Amy Winehouse.

Should have stayed in rehab.

[Can we change the title of this thread to something that someone would actually say out loud? Like "Who are you drinking to, right now?"

"that is a pretense up with which I will not put" -- attributed to Winston Churchill.]

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[Can we change the title of this thread to something that someone would actually say out loud? Like "Who are you drinking to, right now?"

"that is a pretense up with which I will not put" -- attributed to Winston Churchill.]

You can change the title, but that would not make it correct, cf. "For Whom the Bell Tolls" by Ernest Hemingway. (Nice use of the triple space, by the way. :mellow: )

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[Can we change the title of this thread to something that someone would actually say out loud? Like "Who are you drinking to, right now?"

"that is a pretense up with which I will not put" -- attributed to Winston Churchill.]

You can change the title, but that would not make it correct, cf. "For Whom the Bell Tolls" by Ernest Hemingway. (Nice use of the triple space, by the way. :unsure: )

Triple space was to separate the serious from the unserious.

I'm not so interested in "correct," as euphonious. The School Marm constructions are are quite a distance from what real people would say and sound afffected. Sometimes the vernacular is perfectly acceptable, hence rock and roll. Besides, Hemingway was constrained by the fact that he was quoting John Donne, and really couldn't rearrange the wording without looking like an arriviste. :mellow:

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I'm not so interested in "correct," as euphonious. The School Marm constructions are are quite a distance from what real people would say and sound afffected.

The funny (sad?) thing is, I actually speak like that, and I am occasionally mocked for so doing. Apparently, I have been again. :mellow:

Maybe the title should change to: So, you're drinking again. Who would you like to blame it on this time?

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Ah, dcs - you are in good company - I speak like I am from an Austen novel sometimes.

According to the marginal notes evaluating one of my papers in grad school, nouns are not adjectives so one would be remiss to modify the word "novel" with the name of its author. I drink to accomplished scholars with less-accomplished spouses who cheat on them.

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According to the marginal notes evaluating one of my papers in grad school, nouns are not adjectives so one would be remiss to modify the word "novel" with the name of its author. I drink to accomplished scholars with less-accomplished spouses who cheat on them.

In that case, I'll lift my mug of chai to Lynne Truss (Eats, Shoots and Leaves) as well as Roy Peter Clark (The Glamour of Grammar). Truss was laugh out loud funny, but Clark makes more sense.

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To Katie Schwieger at Diplomat Travel who went above and beyond yesterday as we tried to get Mr. lperry out of Port Au Prince, and to Mr. lperry, who spent three harrowing hours driving in the pouring rain on rutted mountain pass roads in the wake of a hurricane, then seven more hours in the war zone of the PAP airport, and he still managed to think to bring me this.

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Bring it, Irene. We'll raise a glass to you when we see you again this weekend.

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To Katie Schwieger at Diplomat Travel who went above and beyond yesterday as we tried to get Mr. lperry out of Port Au Prince, and to Mr. lperry, who spent three harrowing hours driving in the pouring rain on rutted mountain pass roads in the wake of a hurricane, then seven more hours in the war zone of the PAP airport, and he still managed to think to bring me this.

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Bring it, Irene. We'll raise a glass to you when we see you again this weekend.

Hear, hear! Mr. lperry rocks - happy to hear that he made it home safely!

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To the City of Alexandria, who already has a crew out there cleaning the tree out of the street!

I'm sorry about your tree :mellow:. Our biggest casualty so far has been old research materials I had stored in an unused hallway near a skylight that decided it was time to spring a leak.

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To Dick Keane and Bill Meehan.

I did not know Bill Meehan, Chief Market Strategist, Cantor Fitzgerald, in person, but interacted with him, enjoyably, on Silicon Investor. He was a brilliant financial analyst, and a pleasure to communicate with. The only person I "knew" who died in the Twin Towers on 9/11. If I recall correctly he was at a meeting in Windows on the World, North Tower, when the first plane struck. I think the meeting had something to do with what Thomas P.M. Barnett calls Rule Set Reset (vis-a-vis globalization) but my memory is stretched to its limits and may not be recalling correctly.

At any rate, I join you in toasting Bill Meehan. He was a good guy.

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I He was a brilliant financial analyst, and a pleasure to communicate with.

At any rate, I join you in toasting Bill Meehan. He was a good guy.

To say the least. Bill was an incredible person, and as you mention, a brilliant analyst. After dinner at Rogue24 last night, I came home and popped open a can of bud heavy to toast Bill's memory. Dick was no less special, and from my hometown. The consummate family man, I am sure he is happy to see all of the kids participating in the after school sports that the foundation named in his honor supports.
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To Verna Mikesh, my mother's college housemate, an extension agent for the University of Minnesota focused on food, and a long-time pie judge for the Minnesota State Fair. She died last week at age 96, and this article gives a wonderful window onto the world that 4H played in advancing food knowledge and providing opportunities for young women.

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