• Minor blog tweak

    My recent memory concerns have made me miss the Typepad feature where one can skip from post to post in chronological order. So that’s out there now.

    You have to click the title of a post to get to individual post mode, and then the links to the next and previous posts are above the title.

    Now I can say “I know this happened in summer of 2011” and then whip through June – August 2011 and discover, to my horror, that it absolutely did not.

    Having a record of your middle age is a blessing and a curse.

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  • Opera Review: The Pirates of Penzance

    Well, that was fun. Hilarious and fun. Much spinning of pirate ships, and swordplay, and girls chasing butterflies and flying kites. (It only dragged a bit when the Constables got a little bit tedious. (But they are the Constables and are meant to be tedious, and even sound tedious. I don’t know how you would get around this.))

    The best part, of course, was the Major-General’s Song. Anne and I had both studied up on the lyrics. I didn’t think the supertitles in the theater could keep up, but they did — until the singer had the orchestra play it double-time. They didn’t even try to show the words for that.

    (If you don’t know the Major-General’s Song, you might know Tom Lehrer singing The Elements, the song in which he rattles off the Periodic Table. This version of The Elements has the “Aristotle” version at 2 minutes in.)

    (I don’t know where I read it, but I understand this director specializes in staging Pirates of Penzance, just as the singer who sang the Queen of the Night aria at the symphony specialized in that role. )

    It was all great fun, and there was a special non-speaking cameo at the very end. No Spoilers, but it was the only person who could sway the Pirates.

    Wild applause all the way through, of course, and as it was opening night the director and designers came on stage and got wild applause too. So fun to see all the little children, especially.

    Of course, the dark part was the rejection of the nursemaid who is thrown over for being … I think … 49? That was a sword to the heart, of course. I assume that was Sullivan’s contribution; his Wikipedia entry paints him as quite the dog.

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  • Pre-opera: The Pirates of Penzance

    Where we ate: We ate again at Madrina, where we were just a year ago. The waitress spoke of their “new” chef, whom they hired in January 2025. Perhaps he wasn’t in the groove last spring, because the food was even better this time. The arancini were perfect — in particular the temperatures were perfect: inside and out. Same for the tiramisu. It was cold where it should be cold and vice versa. Anne’s Bolognese was really delicious. It wasn’t sweet but it still gave my brain the dopamine hit of candy. My cod’s sauce had many complex sour-artichoke and peppery-potato notes, but the cod was very very mild. More a texture than a taste.

    What I wore: Big hoop earrings, white tank and pants, and this top which has served no purpose for six months but to wait for me to dress like a pirate.

    I felt I had done well with my pirate-inspired look until I arrived and every third person went full-on pirate. There were hooks, hats, eye patches, mustaches. No parrots or peg legs. Plus, every child got a swag bag with a pirate flag and I think an eyepatch. I saw a dainty little girl in a crinoline dress and velvet bow strap on an eyepatch, hike up her crinoline, and chase her brother all over the grounds.

    Friend Anne asked if I was going to dress on theme for Streetcar Named Desire, specifically in a sleeveless T-shirt, which made me roar indelicately.

    A new pair to look out for: I noticed a shoe by my right ear and then a leg as a man clambered over my row.

    “You didn’t have to do that,” I said, gesturing at the open aisle.

    “Yes, but I did it because I could.”

    His wife took the easy aisle access and added that he’d done the same thing when they went to see Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead. The Rosencrantzes brought up the cicada performance and the Costume Sale where Mrs. R., like Anne and I, bought a fez.

    The Family SalmonPants: Mr. and Mrs. SalmonPants attended with two small girls of about five. Nieces? Children? It’s not right to even wonder. Instead I shall be Boo Radley and keep my counsel until I need to step in.

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  • TWIL: How to identify the debris on your driveway

    I woke up Wednesday to this nonsense on my driveway. A little pattern of pellets bisecting the driveway.

    I’ve been trying to expand the way I use AI when possible, so I uploaded that photo to ChatGPT and said “What is this nonsense?”

    In summary, it said, “deer poop.” You’ll get a deer who poops while walking — efficient, I get it — and instead of a pile you see it distributed in that scatter shot effect.

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  • Royal news puts a spin on an inappropriate conversation

    People Magazine has a tale of a recent exchange between Prince William and a “cheeky” elderly resident of a care home, Dot. This makes me sad because obviously I’m going to grow up to be the “cheeky” elderly resident flirting with the random prince.

    Prince William: “I’ve been to your room, Dot.”

    Dot: “Would you like to stay in my room?”

    William: “There’s only one bed, Dot. It might be a bit cozy!”

    Dot: “I don’t care.”

    William: “Well in that case, Dot, I’m sure we’ll come to some arrangement.”

    (later) Dot: “Will you bring your wife along on your next visit?”

    William: “I might need her to protect me.”


    But is Dot cheeky? I think the prince is doing all of the flirting here.


    Prince William: “I’ve been to your room, Dot.” THIS MAN IS AN INDISCRIMINATE CROTCH-SNIFFING DOG BECAUSE A GENTLEMAN WOULD NOT SAY SOMETHING SO PERSONAL TO HIS ELDER.

    Dot: “Would you like to stay in my room?” DOT IS BAFFLED AS TO WHY A MAN WOULD REFERENCE HER ROOM, THE ONE PERSONAL SAFE SPACE SHE HAS.

    William: “There’s only one bed, Dot. It might be a bit cozy!” CROTCH-SNIFFING DOG DOUBLES DOWN ON SMARMY DOUBLE-ENTENDRES.

    Dot: “I don’t care.” DOT SAYS SOMETHING VAGUE TO BE POLITE.

    William: “Well in that case, Dot, I’m sure we’ll come to some arrangement.” CROTCH-SNIFFING DOG PRINCE GOES THERE. GOES RIGHT THERE.

    (later) Dot: “Will you bring your wife along on your next visit?” IT HAS DAWNED ON DOT THAT THE PRINCE IS A CROTCH-SNIFFING DOG AND SHE IS PRIMLY REMINDING HIM HE IS MARRIED.

    William: “I might need her to protect me.” PRINCE ADOPTS A COY INNOCENT AIR AND BATS HIS LASHES AT THE WOMAN HE IS PATENTLY SEXUALLY HARASSING.

    Dot is blameless here. Blameless.

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  • Pretty good second act from SpaceX

    The redesigned SpaceX Starship heavy rocket got off the ground and seems to have done everything right (including blowing up in a deliberate ball of fire at the end).

    In space entertainment news, a new show similar to For All Mankind called Star City starts next week, but it’s the space race from the alternative view of the Soviets. For All Mankind already appropriated the Russian launchpad explosion so I don’t know if the new show will dramatize that, but I imagine they’ll go into the only actual space tragedy that occurred outside of earth’s atmosphere: Soyuz 11.

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  • Weekly Paint Progress: 5/21/2026

    Previous floating buffalo:

    51B83C69-810F-4BC5-829C-712E97CF9316

    This is the progress:

    He was originally:

    03B546E1-5FB6-4290-830E-623260BF6034

    .

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  • Once in a lifetime work ensemble

    It was 65 degrees outside today, which means it was 55 degrees inside of the TeddyJ building. Cold.

    It was also a week before Memorial Day and white pants one size smaller just came in the mail. Hot.

    So for the only time ever in history I was the first person to pair a heavy black and white winter sweater and white pants.

    The first woman I saw in the elevator volunteered without provocation that I was probably the only person in the building who was going to be comfortable today. It was a victory.

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  • ER adventure

    Gary woke me up at midnight last night and insisted I get out of bed and sit down in the chair because he had concerning health news.

    “I have pulmonary edema.” he intoned. [SPOILER. It was not. (SPIwn for short.)] He clarified that he just lay down for bed and water gushed out of his throat. In relatively short form, with just a bit of squabble, we were on the way to the ER to test the pulmonary edema theory.

    They tested his blood for markers and gave him an EKG and an X-Ray to see if it was a heart attack. (SPIwn).

    They did a urine test to see if perhaps he was urinating out of his mouth, perhaps, I don’t know. (SPIwn).

    At that point he began to grouch that obviously he was wasting everyone’s time, and gather his things to leave, and I raised my voice and snapped that he was being arrogant to think the doctors had no plan, and then our doctor stepped up to tell Gary the remainder of their plan.

    They gave him a Maalox concoction to see if it might be heartburn, and given that it was the first food in a year he had containing something besides chicken, sweet potato, and squash, it was delectable. It numbed his belly, he said.

    Gary speculated that because he has no gallbladder and because his chicken stew has no fat, he might have had acid reflux minus the acid.

    So as death by heartburn was not imminent, Gary left with names of gastrointestinal doctors and a prescription for Prilosec. And lots of fawning from me for actually seeking medical help.

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  • Gary is pithy and wise

    When I have blind spots, Gary’s take always surprises me. Like he said, “Ellen, sometimes bad people lie to make themselves look good. And sometimes good people lie to make themselves look better. And those aren’t the same thing.”

    I mean right there, that bought him another six months of marriage.

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