Phone Pix 56: Happy Halloween!

It's the night that the Great Pumpkin rises from the neighborhood pumpkin patch, so to get in the mood, here are some pictures I took with my mobile phone camera.

Treat the tricksters right, okay?

Ghoul, Oct. 13, 2014
Safeway Beretania, Honolulu, HI



Floral Pumpkin Display, Oct. 13, 2014
Safeway Beretania, Honolulu, HI



Produce Pumpkin Display, Oct. 13, 2014
Safeway Beretania, Honolulu, HI

 Witchy Witch, Oct. 13, 2014
Safeway Beretania, Honolulu, HI

 

Wizened Old Man, Oct. 1, 2015
Safeway Manoa, Honolulu, HI

What’s in a Name?

When non-Americans name products that land on American store shelves, or when immigrants open a business establishment with a name that makes sense in their native language, the result is sometimes hilarious.

I’m sure the names are not intentionally funny, I’m sure it all makes sense in their language. Unfortunately, Americans tend to think anything that sounds like something they’d make fun of is funny, no matter if it insults the namer.

Asian products and words tend to tickle our funny button more than any other language. Take for example, this beverage:

Or this Vietnamese restaurant:

Y'know, they really should consult someone familiar with marketing in the Americas.

The Valet Scanner

Let's see now. How often have I used card scanners to get things done?

Well, I posted about our Azura Hotel room key in Santa Rosa. Then there's the Queen's Hospital Radiation Oncology sign-in reader that we used in July. And of course, the supermarkets scan our loyalty cards all the time to apply coupons and discounts.

During my March stay at the Luxor in Las Vegas, I used a valet scanner for the first time.

Just scan your claim ticket, and in a few minutes, someone brings your car up to you. No errors, no wrong cars, for sure.

I thought that was pretty nifty.

Random Musings 27

Won’t showing guts in battle end up with me showing guts in battle if I lose?

* * * * *

Could it be that speaking in the present tense only makes the present tense?

* * * * *

So, tell me, what would happen if I unbutton my belly button?

* * * * *

When I get old and die, will I live to regret it?

* * * * *

I wonder if companies that make colonic enema kits ever get behind in their work and fall into arrears.

 

Fantasy vis-a-vis Reality

Baby Blues

How come the older we get, the bigger our fantasies? Leave it to the little ones to be devastatingly insightful. 

So What Sport is This?

I’m not a big fan of local sports, but for some reason I started reading the attached story that ran on the left side of Tuesday’s Honolulu Star-Advertiser Sports Section front page. Guess I thought it was about football because of the headline, and football somewhat interests me.

Well, I read all the way to the bottom of the 11-inch story and nowhere did reporter Cindy Luis mention what sport she was talking about. Actually, I figured it out in the second paragraph when the words “stuffs” and “kills” appeared.

It was about University of Hawaii Wahine volleyball. But not once in the story does the word “volleyball” appear.

In Journalism School, I was taught that the pertinent facts should be presented in the story lead … The first – and at minimum the second – paragraph, so as not to keep the reader guessing. The reader should not have to solve a puzzle. What if someone who’s not conversant in volleyball lingo reads the story? Major confusion, right?

Actually, any fervent sports fan could figure it out quite easily, but that’s not the point. The point is, there are certain basic journalism “rules” that should be followed, and I think clearing up what sport is being discussed is tops among the list.

Usually at least a clue appears in the headline, or in the smaller teaser head on top. Not this time. Nothing. Nada.

But everything has its good points. ‘Way down toward the bottom, there’s mention that the University of Southern California Trojan women’s team is firmly entrenched in first place with an unblemished 20-0 record.

Fight on!

Intolerance (1916)

The Sacking of Babylon (Scene from Intolerance)

D.W. Griffith’s Intolerance is his three-and-a-half hour black and white silent masterpiece, presenting four separate stories illustrating society’s intolerance of others.

I’d seen portions of the film before, but never sat down to watch it in its entirety, until I DVR’ed it last week when it was on Turner Movie Classics. I’ll admit here and now that it sat there in the DVR queue just waiting for me to find a large-enough chunk of time to watch it.

I finally committed myself to the movie on Sunday afternoon.

It’s not easy to watch silent films. In fact, I find it difficult to wrap my brain around the stories. Silents to me require greater concentration (can’t let my mind stray for a second or I’ll lose the train of thought).

Intolerance tells four interwoven stories:

1. An American modern story (c. 1914), about average Americans trying to survive in a society of clashing capitalism and striking workers, made more intolerable by puritanical morals and crime.

2. The fall of magnificent Babylon (539 B.C.) caused by a conflict between Belshazzar of Babylon and Persia’s Cyrus the Great. Each side has its own religion and cannot tolerate that of the other.

3. The intolerance of French Catholic royals who perpetrated the St. Bartholomew’s Day Massacre in 1572 of Protestant Huguenots during the Renaissance.

4. A Biblical “Judean” story about how intolerance toward outcasts and religious threat led to the crucifixion of Jesus Christ.

Tying them together is the symbolic mother played by silent-movie icon, Lillian Gish, who represents the passing of generation as she rocks her baby in a cradle. Her participation probably helped the film’s popularity, despite the fact that she’s hardly recognizable at all.

Intolerance is a somewhat captivating film once you get into it. Many of the scenes drag on and on, but that’s the way they did it in those days. Would I watch it again? No, but I’m glad I sat through it at least once.

I think that’s pretty tolerable of me.

Fight On! Beat the Irish!

Today marks the 89^th meeting between the University of Southern California Trojans and the Irish of Notre Dame, a football rivalry that began on Dec. 4, 1926.

The story is that the wife of USC Athletic Director Gywnn Wilson and the wife of Notre Dame Coach Knute Rockne were the catalysts for what is now the most celebrated intersectional rivalry in college football.

Marion Wilson and Bonnie Rockne set the foundations in a one-to-one conversation where Mrs. Wilson sold Mrs. Rockne on the virtues of traveling to Southern California to enjoy warm weather apart from the freezing winter temperatures of the Midwest.

As for me, well, my first college game outside of Honolulu came in 1964, after I flunked out of the University of Hawaii and moved to Los Angeles. Flunking out was bad, but there was a good side to it. My Hilo High School classmate was attending USC and invited me to sit in the student section during the game against the undefeated #1 ranked Notre Dame.

I remember emerging from the Los Angeles Coliseum’s tunnel and feeling a bit giddy and unsteady. I swear I almost stumbled and fell. There were 108,000 fans in the stands, the Trojan student section filled with white shirts (me too), and I felt as though I was being sucked into a maelstrom.

 

My heart quickened when the Spirit of Troy, the Trojan band, marched out of the field tunnel in crisp formation, playing "Fight On." And I became a hooked-in fan when USC's white stallion, Traveler, carrying Tommy Trojan on his back, galloped around the stadium to the roars of the crowd.

The Irish, 9-0 near the end of the 1964 season, were favored by 11 points over the unranked Trojans (6-3). And what a great team they had, featuring their star quarterback, Heisman Trophy winner John Huarte and outstanding receiver Jack Snow. USC’s quarterback was Craig Fertig, the principal receiver was Rod Sherman, and the top Trojan running back was Mike Garrett.

USC upset the Irish 20-17, ruining their hopes of a national title (they ended up #3). We had hoped the great victory would have thrust us into the Rose Bowl, but UCLA was given that honor by the committee.

The next year, 1965, the Trojans were undefeated early in the season; the Irish were 3-1. The tables were turned and they beat us 28-7.

This year’s game is unusual. The Trojans are playing their fourth consecutive game against the Irish, with four different coaches – Lane Kiffin, Ed Ogeron (interim after Kiffin was fired), Steve Sarkisian, and Clay Helton, USC’s offensive coordinator who is interim head coach because Sarkisian was fired last week.

It’s sad about Steve Sarkisian. He has alcohol problems and it showed during a game or two, and practice.

So anyway, there is always great drama when USC and Notre Dame clash helmets on the field. This year promises to be no different.

Fight on!

Phone Pix 55: Verticals

Two things are basic in nature - horizontal lines, and vertical lines. Sometimes they're natural (although as we all know, nature abhors straight parallels), sometimes they're man-made.

I continue to find man-made ones, and when I do, if my mobile phone is handy, I snap a picture or two ... like these:

Wall Décor, March 12, 2015, Mandalay Bay Hotel &Casino
Las Vegas, NV

 

Wall Décor, March 12, 2015, Mandalay Bay Hotel & Casino
Las Vegas, NV

 

Long Grass Divider, March 12, 2015, Mandalay Bay Hotel & Casino
Las Vegas, NV

 

Raffles Restaurant, March 12, 2015, Luxor Hotel & Casino
Las Vegas, NV

 

Raffles Restaurant, March 12, 2015, Luxor Hotel & Casino
Las Vegas, NV

 

Raffles Restaurant, March 12, 2015, Luxor Hotel & Casino
Las Vegas, NV

 

Bed, Bath & Beyond, April 17, 2015, Fremont, CA

 

Kendall-Jackson Winery, April 20, 2015, Santa Rosa, CA

 

Son's Fence, April 25, 2015, Fremont, CA

Coffee Klutz

My single-cup Hamilton Beach “The Scoop” coffee maker has served me well for about a year now without a mishap … until Sunday morning.

To use it, just scoop coffee grounds into the handled strainer, insert it in the proper place, add water to the well, and press the start button. Of course, you can’t forget to put your coffee cup under the drip hole.

But before doing that, I always prepare my coffee mug with sweetener and creamer, because I’m lazy and would rather have the drip action incorporate them into the coffee. That way, I don’t have to stir it myself. Lazy, y’know.

So anyway, I did just that, and was going to close the scooper/filter lid, when my left arm bumped the protruding handle, sending coffee grounds cascading onto the shelf, the floor, and into my coffee cup. (insert 15 seconds of blasphemous cursing here).

I had to clean up and start over again. Good thing I didn’t have my eggs on the stove yet.

Okay … coffee made, breakfast made, everything’s ready at the table … plate, juice, coffee, Sunday newspaper.

I think my right arm was jealous that the left arm’s earlier action caused a lot of activity in the kitchen. It wanted equal time and knocked my full coffee cup over, creating a mocha-hued splash puddle on the table, the floor, and my lap. (insert 30 seconds of blasphemous cursing here).

Shaking her head unbelievingly, the wife (bless her heart), shooed me out of there and cleaned up the mess for me.

I may swear off morning coffee forever.