Burger King just came out with a lighter version of French fries that it named Satisfries. I like that. The concoction works both as a word and a concept conveying quick meaning. You can even say, “I’m satisfried,” and it works. (Plus, I’ve had Satisfries, and they’re delicious.)
Now, on the other hand, Quizno’s just came out with a TV commercial in which it touts its sandwiches as being Floasted, a combination of flavorful and roasted. Even the TV actors struggled with the word and the concept. It’s that bad — and that hard to figure out when you hear it. Fortunately, I think Q’s may already have dropped the commercial and hopefully the concept.
…is a nice piece of writing by Christopher Kimball in the November-December 2013 issue of Cook’s Illustrated, of which he is the editor.
Kimball, like Julia Child before him, is not only a master chef but a master at writing English as well. His columns are down to earth but ultimately meaningful, personal and life-affirming in the bargain. Even if you don’t cook, or eat, a subscription to Cook’s Illustrated is worth it just for Kimball’s column.
His title refers to all those things we learned growing up and then deliberately ignored, or challenged to our own detriment, and to all those things we thought we learned in life, which later turned out to be false.
As Kimball explains in his column: “I … didn’t realize that most sayings are true but that truth is learned only through experience.” And thus, “I no longer look gift horses in the mouth, or throw away small change; I keep my pennies in a large bowl by the back door for a rainy day.”
Lest you think his “didn’t knows” are all homespun, corny stuff, Kimball closes with the experience of a neighbor dying of Lou Gehrig’s Disease. I won’t spoil it by revealing his “didn’t know” in that situation, but you should try doing an online search for his article and read it if you can. I couldn’t find it, but I must confess…
I didn’t know that Christopher Kimball was married this past June to Melissa Lee Baldino, another chef on Kimball’s TV show, “America’s Test Kitchen.”
What I also personally didn’t know, growing up so many decades ago, was that my parents were mostly right and that, looking back over those spent decades, life can be really tough but full of some sweet moments that (almost) make it all worth it.
Restore the Fourth-Utah, a group opposed to National Security Agency (NSA) spying on U.S. citizens, has adopted the highway next to the state’s infamous NSA data center, where it staged a massive rally on July Fourth clogging the very lanes of that highway.
On that occasion, the demonstrators were forced off the road because, according to state troopers, it belonged to NSA.
Redwood Road, shown in the picture above with anti-NSA demonstrators lining it, has now been approved for adoption by the group by the Utah Department of Transportation (UDOT).
UDOT spokesman John Gleason said the final paperwork will be completed within days. Gleason added that UDOT will probably erect one sign in each direction with Restore The Fourth-Utah’s name within a few weeks. Restore the Fourth-Utah will also be responsible for cleaning up the highway at least three times each year.
Adopting the road “brings light to the fact we are fighting for Fourth Amendment rights for all people,” Restore spokesperson Lorina Potter said.
When asked for comment, NSA spokeswoman Vanee Vines replied in an email to TheSalt Lake Tribune: “Highway adoptions are not a part of NSA’s federal mission.”
I don’t want to stir any controversy — commentary, yes — but I consider Edward Snowden a hero for his revelations about NSA and official Washington spying shenanigans. Long live the Fourth Amendment — and the First. ♦
Does art imitate life or life art? In the case of “Office Space,” the classic movie from 1999 that refuses to be outdated, there really is no art in corporate (cubicle) life. There’s just, well, life as usual.
The picked-upon, get-even guy in “Office Space” is named Milton Waddams (classic scene in the YouTube video clip below), whose life definitely imitates life, if not the art of corporate politics. Let me explain.
One of my favorite films for commiseration about American corporate culture, “Office Space” found its real-life parallel recently in the absurd case of a whistle-blower named Walter Tamosaitis. Just call him Milton Redux.
Tamosaitis had the nerve to publicly question the safety of some procedures at the Hanford (Wash.) nuclear plant two years ago. First — catch this — the plant’s parent corporation took away his staff (he was an engineer) and assigned him to a basement office without furniture or a telephone. (Did he have lights? One would hope so.)
A week ago, Milton — er, Walter — was terminated in what was called a cost-cutting move.
All I can say is that at least the filmic Milton had a stapler, for a while anyway:
People who avoid using the pronoun I fall into two broad categories, according to a recent book on the subject: The first group is the high and mighty, and the second is comprised of liars. (Okay, okay, if you’re cynical like I am, right now you’re thinking, “What’s the difference?”)
So, to puncture popular misconceptions, using I is actually a good thing. Studies indicate that heavy I users include “women (who are typically more reflective than men), people who are more at ease with personal topics, younger people, caring people as well as anxious and depressed people,” according to an article (“A Tiny Pronoun Says a Lot About You“) in today’s Wall Street Journal.
According to James W. Pennebaker, chair of the psychology department at the University of Texas and author of The Secret Life of Pronouns on which the article is based, the use of the pronoun I is associated more with humility than it is with power or arrogance. Thus people in power will tend to use the pronoun you more often because they feel empowered to tell others what they need to do. Liars avoid I to distance themselves from what they’re covering up — and from responsibility.
Pennebaker advises: “You should use ‘I’ the same way you use a speedometer on your car — as feedback on yourself. Are you being genuine [by openly referring to yourself in speech]? Are you being honest? Learn to adjust some, to know yourself.”
Now, about those liars and high-flyers, are they built of the same mold? No official word on that in the article. ♦
I heard that twerk had been added to the Oxford Dictionary Online and soon found Kornheiser and Wilbon joking about “twerking,” so I figured it was worth 20 seconds of research.
Turns out that it’s a dance, maybe or maybe not associated with Miley Cyrus (who she?). Said dictionary says to twerk is “to dance to popular music in a sexually provocative manner involving thrusting hip movements and a low, squatting stance.”
You know, the one you keep in your metaphorical locker for use when you want to refer to an immovable object, or to a huge presence that people keep ignoring for some reason.
I usually opt for 900 pounds, as in “the 900-pound gorilla in the room” (or wherever), but I’ve also seen 800-pound gorillas roaming out there in Englishdom.
Yesterday came a 500-pound version in a column by Bill Dwyer about the opening of Santa Anita Race Track, to wit: “Santa Anita is the 500-pound gorilla in Southern California racing now” due to the year-end closing of Hollywood Park.
Maybe Dwyer’s gorilla shed those 300 (or 400) pounds because Dwyer was writing about horse racing, not football (surely at least 900 pounds) or basketball (no less than 800). Even baseball must weigh in at least 650.
Anybody know how big these metaphorical gorillas are supposed to be? Or does it even matter?
But consider this: So far, no one has gone to a 1,000 pounds or more.
Except maybe doctors when referring to Obamacare. ♦
It’s musty, looks urine-stained, smells of an old biddy’s storage attic, but it’s a connection to my past — of sorts — just like a linotype machine, which I don’t own or display in my house as I do this blast from the past.
The urine-looking stains on my SmithCorona (the machine doesn’t use a space in its spelling, so I guess I won’t either) are hopefully just atmospheric corrosion, but one never knows when one purchases a half-century-old (or more) portable typewriter for 25 bones on eBay.
The carrying case for the portable was so smelly that I tossed it immediately upon receipt, and I’ve been spraying the typewriter itself with Simple Green and anything else I can think of ever since, in hopes of eradicating the Old Biddy kept-things-too-long smell.
The typewriter sits as an ornament in my upstairs study (read: spare bedroom) between a book on the history of Mickey Mouse and a radio/CD player. Talk about three relics — four if you count me.
As for linotypes, yes, my first job was as a scab reporter for the old Los Angeles Herald-Examiner, and the seven-edition-a-day rag was composed on a linotype and then assembled into pages by hand.
Ah, the good old days. I made $92 a week, but it was enough to buy my first house. Today, I doubt I could even feed myself and my three dogs on that.
(Meanwhile, for the real deal on used typewriters, check out My Typewriter. Also, please note that typewriters are still used in funeral homes because many states require typed death certificates. I hope that’s not an omen emanating from my recent purchase.) ♦
I was writing a post for my food blog on a restaurant in Culver City, Calif., when I noticed the editing tool underlining ambience with a squiggly red line, so I thought that maybe I was spelling it wrong.
Concerned, I did some research, and it turns out that the word can be spelled with either the e or the a after the i. With the a, the word is in its French form (meaning it should properly be italicized if used in that spelling), and with the e, the word is Anglicized.
Either way, ambience (or ambiance) refers to the atmosphere or mood in a certain environment.