Granddaughter: Abba Abba
October 27, 2024
There was a time when my grandson ran to the door shouting “Abba, Abba” whenever I arrived to spend time with him at his home. Now that he’s 5, such exhibitions of enthusiasm are less regular.
But my 2-year-old granddaughter, who has just given up asking for a video call with me every day, now runs to the front door shouting “Abba, Abba” (the family name for grandfather). I know it’s just a stage, but it is flattering and humbling to receive that kind of attention. It makes me want to up my game.
Steve and Little League
October 27, 2024
I had a dream recently in which my father and my brother Steve appeared post-mortem. My dad’s role was anodyne; all I remember is that Steve did something irritating that made me angry (a not uncommon event when he was alive).
Which got me to thinking of Little League Baseball at Blaesing Field (now a cemetery). In our family construct, Steve was the gifted athlete, I was the gifted scholar. So he was a great pitcher, I was a hapless right fielder—the home of the hapless in a league with very few left-handers. Still, I recall my mother’s favorite (and true) anecdote, “Pop fly to right field. Pauli gets under it, nonchalantly flips his sunglasses down, walks forward, then looks over his head as it drops behind him.”
We were never allowed on the same team, but we did play one game against each other. Steve was a hot-shot pitcher, I was the ninth batter. Both coaches were afraid Steve would walk me—although with my speed (or lack thereof) I wasn’t much of a threat on the basepath.
I managed one of my extremely rare hits, an infield popup. The third baseman dropped it, then threw to first, where it whizzed past the first baseman. The shocked first-base coach waved me to second, where the ball was missed again. On to third I went. Steve was turned around, trying to manage to zoo of missed catches behind him.
Long story not too much longer, I tried to stretch it into an infield home run. I bowled over the catcher (a much smaller boy) who, in the only miracle for Steve’s team that inning, held onto the ball. I’ve never seen the replay, but I don’t think it was close.
My Friend The CIA Agent
October 27, 2024
A half century ago, just before I found Vicki, I had a few dates with a woman named Lucy Kirk. “What do you do?” “I work for the government.”
It was the equivalent of “Where did you go to school?” “Cambridge.” The latter usually means Harvard, the former almost always meant the CIA (or the NSA), as it did in this case. Those rules have clearly loosened since 1977.
We got back in touch, and I reviewed her novel:
Poison Factory: Neither Pale, Stale nor Male. Just Terrific
Now her memoir (reviewed in more detail on my site, also on Amazon here):
We Already Have a Woman We Like: My Life in the CIA
A vivid and well-told story about the ways in which the CIA made life difficult for its first female agents. #Metoo problems existed a long time before #Metoo.
Chicago Manual of Style
October 27, 2024
There’s change afoot in the Chicago Manual of Style, the bible of academic writing, and the favored styledbook of publishers. Thanks for the link, Robert Malchman. I have been sour on stylebooks since the NYT gave up and allowed “over” as a synonym for “more than.” Another lost cause: only buses and trains are due. Everything else is "because."
I would have earned a style-book ding in Boston, circa 1975 for this sentence: "The crop loss was due to locusts." "The crop loss was because of locusts" would technically be correct according to the stylebook. Better yet, change it to “Locusts caused the crop loss,” the preferred locution, back in the day when there were still standards.
Meme O' The Week: To Be Fair
October 27, 2024
This and That
October 27, 2024
Art in Orinda
You’ve probably heard that CalShakes (the California Shakespeare Festival) has thrown in the towel after 50 years. The Orinda Theater still needs help to keep providing live and filmed entertainment. I give; you should too. A thing of beauty is a joy forever.
…
Deserved Life Span
I just realized I am the same age as Edwin Diamond was when he died decades ago. In an obituary, if the age is greater than 72, I ask “did they deserve more years than Edwin?” Tougher question when it’s me… and still alive
End of October 28 Column (No. 953)
October 27, 2024
Start of Oct. 21 Column. More or Less Continuous News Service since 1998
October 20, 2024
Grandkids: Grandson: Ass?
October 20, 2024
OK, I admit I wasn’t talking about a donkey. I was on the phone with my friend Jim Forbes while watching my grandson, and I said “kick his ass” (among other things)
I was unaware the word “ass” had been promoted to “bad word.” My grandson told his mom I said it in front of him and his friend from next door.
I do try to avoid all the bad words from my youth, but I suspect I am no longer up to date.