An extra day

Today was a found day. Call it an extra day of summer, found on this first week of November. The sky was bright, the sun was out and the temperature was 70-plus. I've been in my shorts all day. Today's goodness was forecast. A woman at work yesterday asked what we did to deserve this. I said it was payback for the poor summer we had.

This morning we made the usual weekend circuit to the downtown of our village: mail letters, return books to the library and buy a pound of Breakfast Blend whole beans (no grind, no bag, thank you). My wife, dog and I had a 1.5 mile roundtrip walk.

Because of the mild weather, we were determined to eat lunch outside. We drove to the shopping center, intending to eat at Potbelly's. The line was practically out the door. Moreover, the restaurant had removed its outdoor tables and chairs. So we walked over to Meat Heads, a new hamburger joint. It had outdoor seating, but the line inside was equally long. Distressed, we walked away, then saw tables on the sidewalk ahead. It turned out to be Starbucks.We went inside to see if they serve lunch foods; we found sandwiches and took them outside. Then I walked back to Meat Heads for fresh-cut fries. I ordered the cucumber-wasabi sauce, which was outstanding.

We got back in the car and drove to the grocery store. On the way home, we turned on the radio. My Northwestern Wildcats beat Iowa in Iowa. That made me more excited than this gorgeous November weather. I raked a few leaves and then read some magazines outside.

Now, about Archie. This is an in-joke my brothers, sister and I share. We've laughed about this for 40 or more years. This cover is from the 1960s. All we have to do is ask, "What's your favorite season?" and we immediately know the answer.

I don't know why we find this amusing. Maybe because it's so cheesy. The first time we saw this (as teens and 'tweens) I think we knew it was cheesy. My younger brother found a site showing hundreds of Archie covers. It's called Cover Browser. The site promotes links to 450,000 covers of other comic books and more. There's always "and more."

We had a stack of comic books in the basement, mostly Archies and Mad magazine, with a smattering of Classics Illustrated. I remember a Huck Finn in which he hides butter under his hat. Of course it melts and runs down his cheeks and someone thinks he has brain fever.

As with most families, I assume, Mom threw away all the comics when we were in college. A good project for an economist would be to tote up the value of all the collectibles, including baseball cards, beer cans and Beanie Babies, thrown out by mothers across the United States. The value of assets destroyed would total in the trillions of dollars.

Further adventures of my kitchen cabinets

When we emptied the cabinet under the kitchen sink, we found five cans of Pledge. What was I thinking--that just having the dust spray in the house would keep the furniture clean? Or maybe this was a long-forgotten response to Y2K. I needed new Pledge because the old formula wouldn't work in 2000.

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Here's a joke I've been spreading (on Twitter, Facebook, e-mail and now here):
They say the Chicago Cubs will win the World Series when pigs fly. Well then, 2010 should be their year, because in 2009, swine flu.

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While I'm on the subject of humor, loyal readers might remember that I've been on the prowl for a seasonal autumn joke. I have a joke for Winter, Spring and Summer. Now I have one for Autumn. I had mentioned it in my review of The Wapshot Chronicle, then realized it would be the perfect joke to tell at Thanksgiving dinner. Here goes:

When Honora met the president of the United States, she told him, "I come from St. Botolphs. They say that St. Botolphs is like a pumpkin pie. No upper crust."

Hint: For maximum humorous effect, substitute St. Botolphs for your hometown or a dreaded rival burg.

Happy birthday, sister

Today is my sister's birthday. She's 17 months older than I am. We were both born in Minnesota. Happy birthday.
Here's a link to last year's greeting, with an old birthday card that one aunt gave to another.

My junk drawer

Before we had our new kitchen cabinets installed, we emptied out the junk drawer. Here's a partial list:
shoe horn, Santa Claus pez dispenser, rubber door stop, wind-up Godzilla toy, strike plate from a door, address book from "Getting to know you" (a Welcome Wagon type organization), 2 packages of Madagascar 3D cards, alarm light with a BPW Illinois 1921 logo,
rubber feet to put under furniture, 2 metal slicker brushes for cats, a wick for an oil lamp, Bobby Higginson baseball card, Greg Vaughn baseball card, Jim Edmonds baseball card, Annie sings at the Grand Canyon Baby Einsteins card, Metra magnet, Victor mouse trap, plastic pistol that shoots sparks when you squeeze the trigger, telephone connector wire,
6-foot length of clothesline, Bunny pez dispenser, retractable dog leash, plastic soap dish, hard rubber cat brush, rubber handle pet brush, (handle chewed by dog), 2 Duracell mini flashlilghts, broken dog collar, 3 "seasons" tile trivets (winter, fall, spring) from Lillian Vernon catalog, plastic bicycle tire iron, 2 plastic packages containing knife, fork, spoon, napkin, salt and pepper, Lake County races luggage tag, Northwestern University beer cozy printed with the 2006 home football schedule, 1 angle iron, 1 plastic bird whistle that you fill with water and when you blow in the spout it makes an annyoing whistling sound,
Phillips head screwdriver shaped like a Duracell AA battery, toy car, 2 triangular shaped feet to hold a picture frame, various buttons ("Get Roasted, Dunbars Fire Roasted Bell Pepper," "A Prime Combination, Seagram Classics Wine," "Glencoe 125 Home" and USA flag), C hook, L-shaped piece of metal ,various dried-out and broken rubber bands, 4 rubber hose washers, 1 woven key chain, 1 package of pepper, cloth hot pad woven by niece when she was 5 or 6 years old, dog tags and collar from deceased dog.
I went through the contents and kept what I wanted. Then my wife did the same. We threw out the remainder.

Reading list: 10 North Frederick

The next stop on my journey to read all the National Book Award winners for fiction led me to "Ten North Frederick" by John O'Hara. This was the 1956 recipient of the prize. It's the story of three generations of Chapins who live in the house at 10 N. Frederick in a small city in northeast Pennsylvania.
The book opens with Edith Chapin looking out her window over the city, while below, her living room is filled with mourners paying their respects on the death of her husband, Joe Chapin. O'Hara takes his time in developing the story. He describes Chapin's pall-bearers, and from this we learn something about the society, times and manners of America before the 1940s.
O'Hara writes in a detailed sociological manner, noting courtship rituals, dress codes, social strata. political connections and the adaptation of new technologies. The modern-day reader could read this novel as a handbook of how to succeed in life. Go to the right college, network with your classmates and townsmen, join the right clubs and don't make waves.
Chapin is a Yale man, but rather than work in New York or Philadelphia, he chooses to stay in Gibbsville. The Pennsylvanians are a little defensive about their status. Though they've lived in America as long as New Englanders, they feel a little inferior to their cousins to the north. In speaking about one of the Chapins, a woman from New York says, "Well, I don't know what he can be snobbish about. He's from Pennsylvania."
I'm from Pennsylvania, too, so I read this book looking for references to Lancaster. There are some, including a Pennsylvania Dutchman who is practicing his English and trying to lose his accent. I wish my parents were still alive so I could ask them if they read and enjoyed this novel. I'm sure Mom and Dad would have recognized some of the character types.
The story reminded me of a Theodore Dreiser novel, but racier (for the times). As I recall, Dreiser didn't write explicitly about alcoholism, homosexuality, lesbian affairs, out-of-wedlock babies, and extra-marital affairs. I always thought the Eisenhower era was buttoned down, but here are these themes, right out in the open.
This novel is a family saga, like The Wapshot Chronicle, which I read earlier this year. The Wapsots are a dissolute Massachusetts family. John Cheever won the 1958 National Book Award for that novel. I then read The Wapshot Scandal, a sequel published 20 years later. I did not enjoy that as much.

Halloweens past

Here I am, about 24 or 25, dressed as a cat. I was living in Rogers Park, on the far north side of Chicago. I bought (or rented) the leopard print shirt at a secondhand store near my apartment. The owner painted my face. The black, press-on nails were my own doing. In my mouth, I'm gripping my beloved Steiff handpuppet, which my aunt gave me when I was about 5 or 6 years old. (I still have it. My younger brother received a monkey puppet.)

Here I am a few years ago when the West Nile virus was making headlines . I won the office prize for my "Niles West Virus" costume. This was a last-minute inspiration. I saw the bird mask the night before. I had to go to the high school to buy the jersey. A black shirt, black pants, black gloves and black shoes completed the ensemble.


Another office party, this time as a Fandango puppet. I bought a leaf bag, cut out arm holes, colored in lips, glued on hair, handed out movie tickets. I won a prize for this, too.


This year I ran out of ideas. I went as a greaser.

Here's another award-winning costume: Mr. Six from Six Flags amusement park. I colored my hair, put on a tux, and carried a CD player with the "We like to party" song.
I have no dress up plans for this year.

Ladybug

We sat outside the new coffee shop (the "anti-Starbucks") in the afternoon yesterday and were joined by this young lady.