Twenty-one

In an alternate universe, one that’s not too far from this one, Alternate-me is buying our son Quinn a drink for his twenty-first birthday.

In this world…alas.

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Tuesday Tones

If the picture above doesn’t make our new post-series theme clear, we’re talking about Moon Music! Or, classical music inspired by the moon. Why did I land on this particular theme? Well…why not! I did a search for some pieces in this vein, and there’s some really nifty stuff out there, much of which I haven’t heard. So I’m kind of excited by this.

We’re going to start out with an aria by Antonin Dvorak. This, the “Song to the Moon”, is from his opera Rusalka, about a water spirit who falls in love with a mortal man. Obviously this love-match is not destined for an easy time of it. In Act I, Rusalka (our titular spirit) sees the Moon above and sings this aria to it, pleading the Moon to give the mortal man dreams of her. The music is sad and sensuous and deeply lyrical…and now I want to track down the entire opera and hear it. Dvorak’s operas have tended to languish in obscurity, mainly because their librettos are in the composer’s native Czech language, which most singers do not study.

Here is the “Song to the Moon” from Rusalka, act I, by Antonin Dvorak.

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Butterflies, Caterpillars, and the Bokeh Buddha

We have a mulch bed with a bush in it right outside our front door, and in recent years, milkweed has taken up residence there. Many folks would rip out the milkweed, but not us! We know it’s a haven for pollinators and for Monarch butterfly caterpillars. (See two years ago!) We didn’t see any caterpillars last year, but lo! we had one this year.

He was there for a few days, and then we lost track of him. We assume he found a nice place to make a chrysalis, and has by now completed his metamorphosis into a Monarch butterfly. We hope.

(I very well may be misgendering this caterpillar, right? Hmmmm.)

In addition to that caterpillar, the Buffalo and Erie County Botanical Gardens has this summer dedicated one of its rooms to butterflies. We visited this exhibit twice, and here are a few of the denizens there:

I really like that last shot. It’s not the sharpest image I’ve ever taken, but I like that it captures the gossamer threads of the spiderweb beyond the butterfly.

Finally, one of my favorite subjects in the region is this Buddha statue in the Botanical Gardens’s tropical display room. I take pictures of this Buddha every time I’m there (well, both Buddhas, there are two, but this one is the larger). Granted, it’s getting harder to get creative with shooting the same thing every time we visit, but…still, I do it. Here the Buddha isn’t even the focus of the image. I like the way this one turned out.

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Towering

The towers of downtown Buffalo, NY, and the Buffalo Skyway in the foreground.

The other day I posted this shot to the Buffalo-centric Reddit, and it got some praise (yay!) as well as generating some discussion of Buffalo’s downtown and whether Buffalo is a beautiful city or not. I didn’t get too far into those discussions, but it should be pretty obvious from my general content here that I fall squarely in the “Buffalo is beautiful” camp, even if Buffalo is an often maddening place.

One interesting side discussion happened, though, when a user quipped that you could take the three tall buildings pictured here–Seneca One Tower, Main Place Tower, and the Liberty Building–and stack them up to make one super-tall and there would still be 73 buildings in NYC taller than that. Someone asked how they had time to look that up, and the person who made the quip admitted that they made it up.

But it feels true, as someone who lives here and has been there.

Well, I was not one to let an intriguing idea pass me by, so I did the math and looked things up.

Seneca One Tower is 529 feet tall. Main Place Tower is 350 feet tall. The Liberty Building is 333 feet tall. (I took these heights right off Google, so I’m assuming they’re correct, or at least very close. I did not do any serious verification.) Add that all up, and you get a supertall building that’s 1,212 feet tall.

Off I went then to Wikipedia, which contains a nice and useful list of NYC buildings by height. It turns out that there are only eight buildings in NYC that would be taller than a supertall made by sticking the Liberty Building on top of Main Place Tower, and then sticking that on top of Seneca One. The shortest of the eight buildings is none other than the Empire State Building.

I looked this up out of curiosity, not out of any desire to mock the person who made the quip…and it did point out something about downtown Buffalo that I think profoundly illustrates something key about the local economy and what things have been like in Buffalo for decades. On Buffalo’s own list of tallest buildings, we see that Main Place Tower and the Liberty Building are, respectively, fourth and fifth locally for height. (Two and three are the Rand Building and Buffalo City Hall.) Seneca One, originally called Marine Midland Center for Marine Midland Bank, was built in 1972…which means that while there have been newer buildings erected in downtown Buffalo since then, the skyline’s maximum height has not budged in more than fifty years. It’s a symbol, in a lot of ways, of the largely static nature of Buffalo’s local economy since the steel and manufacturing dried up in the 1970s.

Am I clamoring for new construction? Well, downtown could certainly use it. Obviously right now there is no need for anything taller than Seneca One, but downtown Buffalo is a mishmash of wonderful old buildings on mothballs, newer buildings on their own plazas, and way more parking lots than the city really needs.

But yes, I would like to see some new towers being built in a Buffalo that had enough economic activity to fill them. That would be a nice thing to see.

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Truly a headline for our times

(This post is adapted from something I wrote on Facebook.)

As much as I like to hope that the United States has not actually entered its period of long decline, it seems like not a week goes by–and sometimes it’s not a day going by–when I’m not offered at least one data point in support of the idea that yes, we are indeed circling the drain and our time as the forefront nation in the world is almost up. Now, I’m not entirely sure how I feel about that, but it’s the manner of our onward march into unseriousness that bothers me.

It seems, sadly, that we are becoming a stupider nation.

Today’s case study is a headline I saw on an article from Facebook, referring to a “controversy” that’s been going on for a few days now, and I have to admit that while I’m pretty thick-skinned when it comes to my ability to see what the MAGA crowd is upset about and just roll my eyes, this one has had some staying power.

Steak-n-Shake blasts Cracker Barrel for erasing its iconic past

Yeah.

If you’ve managed to not keep up with this one, the short version is: Cracker Barrel has changed its logo, simplifying it, making the font a little cleaner, and eliminating what has been a key graphic component: an old dude sitting next to a barrel.

MAGA has absolutely lost its collective SHIT over this.

It was amusing at first, it really was. I mean, what can you do besides laugh when some FOX News weirdo actually tweets out into the world his disappointment, noting that he “gave his life to Jesus in a Cracker Barrel parking lot”. I really don’t know what to do with that other than laugh. I mean, you can give your life to Jesus anywhere, I suppose, but are we really suggesting that the spot where you do it somehow must be preserved forever? Are we really suggesting that there was something about the logo on the sign on the nondescript brown building a stone’s throw from I-whatever that made you uniquely open to THE LORD!!! at that particular moment?

Had this just been another of those momentary-MAGA-freakout-of-the-day moments, it would have been fine. But for some reason, this one had legs, and it’s been in the news and dominating social media for several days now. I’ve noted this with increasing annoyance as more and more prominent MAGA “thinkers” (now there’s a term to deploy loosely) weigh in, almost invariably with some crap about how they’re never eating there again. It’s just typical MAGA crap, complete with wanton misuse of the word “woke”. But again, it’s stuck in the news, which brings me to the headline of the article linked above, where some other restaurant chain decided to enter the fray.

For one thing, let’s just state the obvious: the Steak-n-Shake people see an opportunity to maybe drive some sales by appealing to the MAGA crowd. That’s all that is. But it’s also interesting, in an infuriating way, to dig a little into that headline and what Steak-n-Shake is saying, because they’re accusing Cracker Barrel of betraying its past. Its ‘heritage’.

Let me say that again: They’re accusing Cracker Barrel of betraying its heritage.

That’s where I find myself wanting to press a pillow over my face and scream, because the very idea that Cracker Barrel has a heritage to uphold is ludicrous to the point of being literally insane.

Cracker Barrel was founded in 1969 as a chain of restaurants with a faux-Southern menu, and faux-Southern decor, and right from the get-go they focused exclusively on opening near Interstate exits. Cracker Barrel has never been real. It has never been authentic. It has always been fake. It’s a faked-out joint designed with almost clinical precision to sell the exact same menu in the exact same building on the exact same plates to the exact same clientele by the side of the exact same highway. The whole idea of Cracker Barrel, and places like it, is to serve the exact same dishes with the exact same flavors (which are always somehow simultaneously blandly seasoned and loaded with sodium) so you can drive 1200 miles over two days and eat the exact same food at every stop, without ever having to venture more than a thousand feet off the freeway. This is why all the buildings are identical, and why they are always built to face the freeway. Not the street it’s on, but the freeway at whose exit it sits.

I used to work for one of Cracker Barrel’s big competitors in the Great Lakes region, Bob Evans. Many is the exit where as soon as you reach the traffic light, there’s a Bob Evans on this side, and a Cracker Barrel on the other.

So there is exactly nothing about Cracker Barrel that is the least bit “authentic”. It is about as real as Main Street USA at Disney World’s Magic Kingdom: it’s someone’s carefully-designed and market-tested version of what a maximally inoffensive Southern-inspired restaurant would be like. This is what MAGA is flipping out about: a chain of cookie-cutter restaurants whose existence makes it possible for MAGA to eat white-coded food without ever having to actually enter a town where they might encounter those people. (Who are those people? Well, does it matter, these days?)

Cracker Barrel’s “heritage” is nothing more than a fantasy, and it’s never been anything but.

Cracker Barrel’s sales have been in decline for several years, probably for many reasons, but one thing that just about every company on Earth will do when enduring a lengthy period of sales decline is rebranding, to some degree. Some go overboard, some just tweak it around the edges. Cracker Barrel appears to have done a tweaking-around-the-edges, removing the pictorial element of their signage and updating their font a bit. But this is somehow a betrayal. Were these same weirdos freaked out when KFC ditched “Kentucky” from its name? Do they get upset every time Pepsi changes its cans? I hope not. Pepsi changes it cans more often than some people change their undergarments.

It’s beyond depressing that this kind of thing occupies our national attention in a time when we’re facing all manner of threatening issues, and I suppose I’m not helping by writing this. Right now I’m one more voice in the annoying fugue. I get it. But a larger issue here is that this whole business reveals again the degree to which MAGA’s preferred America is a pure fiction. For years people on my side of the fence have said that they want to turn back the clock, and to an extent they do, but really, they want to turn back the clock to another reality. MAGA pines for an America that never existed. They’ve cooked up this whole false America in their heads, convinced themselves that it was real, and they’ve unleashed upon the rest of us all the righteous anger they can muster because we won’t let them have the thing back that they never had in the first place. I don’t know how to solve that problem, and I fear greatly for the fate of a country where such a large portion of the population lives in utter devotion to a place that is as much a fantasy as the Star Trek future I prefer.

(Aside: As for Cracker Barrel itself? I’ve only eaten at one a few times, and it’s been quite a few years. I checked out a couple times when I was working for Bob Evans, out of curiosity and a need to know what “the competition” was doing. It was fine. The food isn’t terrible at all, it’s just…there. There is absolutely nothing memorable about it, but sometimes that’s fine, and there really is a place for a decent meal after a long day of driving when you decided to squeeze in another hundred miles and now it’s 8:30pm and you’re tired and hungry. What I actually remember most about my visits to Cracker Barrel were the check-back visits by my servers. Each time, when the server would come back to check on us after we had our main orders, they wouldn’t ask “How is everything?” or “Hey, are we doing OK?” or any of the usual questions. I assume they were trained to do this, because it’s so specific, but each time the server would ask, “Does it taste good?” I remember that because I’ve never heard that phrasing from a server, in that situation, in any restaurant.)

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Something for Thursday

The Music Man doesn’t get enough credit for how inventive it is, methinks. The Music Man is known for its Iowa setting, and it generally seems to be viewed as safe Americana. But it makes a lot of interesting choices, and those include its music numbers. This one, “Lida Rose and Will I Ever Tell You”, blends two different songs together, sung by entirely different characters, who aren’t even in the same place. How does that work?

It starts as our hero, con man Professor Harold Hill, is returning to his hotel room where he is met by the local school board, four guys who used to hate each other until Hill noticed that their voices lent themselves to music–and he somehow converted them into a barbershop quartet. The board members are tasked with getting Professor Hill’s educational credentials (which he has entirely made up); he keeps distracting them by tricking them into singing, whereupon he slips away. He does that again here, with a song called “Lida Rose”. But then we shift to Marian Paroo, the woman who is falling for Professor Hill, who is singing a love song called “Will I Ever Tell You”. And then, via the magic of some very inventively-done split screen, we hear both songs together.

The Music Man is a much more sophisticated musical than I think it gets credit for! That’s all I’m saying.

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Tuesday Tones

was going to launch my next series of themed music selections today, but I had to be up at 4am for work (an unusual early start for a special project that had to be done prior to open) and then when I got home I had to help take Carla to the vet (a likely urinary tract infection, she has meds now and is resting), so the brain power is not at its highest right now. So, today instead I share a movie theme that we heard on WNED on the way home from the vet: Rachel Portman’s lush and beautiful theme to Emma (1996). Not much else to say here…it’ll probably and hopefully be an early bedtime this evening!

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Buffalo Streetscapes: Men at work

Last week I did one of my favorite things, on the last day of my August vacation: I went on a long photo walk in the city of Buffalo. I spent a chunk of that walk in downtown Buffalo proper, and one shot I took that I particularly like is this one, of two men on a crane lift working on something on one of the buildings. I had to look up the building, actually: Convention Towers, on the south end of the Buffalo Convention Center. At the end of the street, dominating the background of the photo, is the edifice of Buffalo City Hall.

This is the jpg as it came right out of the camera; I have not yet done any editing on this photo. (Or any of the day’s photos…right now I’m behind on all my editing!) So, a better version of this will be forthcoming. For now, here it is! (And for the embiggenable version, go here.)

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Sunday Stealing

Another week, another quiz! Let’s see how this goes:

The 2×4 Meme

TWO foods you can’t stand

1. Broccoli! I’ve written before of my hatred for broccoli.

2. I love potatoes in just about every form in which they can be served…except mashed. I do not like mashed potatoes. And I always think I should! Every time I see a nice serving of mashed potatoes with delicious gravy, I think, “Ooh, that’s gotta be good….” And yet…no dice. I cannot get myself to love mashed potatoes.

FOUR foods you love

1. Blueberries. They’re heavenly. One of my favorite breakfasts is a cup or so of cottage cheese with a cup or so of blueberries on top.

2. Eggs. Eggs always make me happy. And they’re so versatile!

3. Bread. I don’t think there’s a bread I don’t like, and that can be a problem, I must admit.

4. Mustard. Spicy, brown, yellow, yellow with horseradish, dijon, honey, the stuff with the big seeds in it that you dip pretzels into, the spicy stuff in the little packet that I must have with my egg roll when order from Asian Star…yeah. Mustard!

TWO places you never want to see again 

1. Las Vegas. Now, given that when I saw Vegas I was 7 years old as we drove through it while moving from West Virginia to Hillsboro, OR, in 1979, a case can be made that I really haven’t seen Vegas, at least, not what it’s become. The Vegas I saw bears little resemblance to what’s there now. But still! No desire to go there whatsoever. I am not interested. I don’t gamble, and Vegas is an entirely artificial place that got plunked there for gambling. There is no natural geographic reason for there to be a city there. You can see this from aerial photos where the city doesn’t dwindle from urban core to suburbs to rural the way cities are supposed to; Vegas just stops. Now, a Vegas episode from the last season of Somebody Feed Phil did the best job I’ve seen yet of making Vegas look like a place I might like, but…no. Would I turn down a free, all-expenses-paid trip there? No! But do I have any intention of devoting any of my travel time or resources to going there? Also no. (Mark Evanier writes about Vegas. He likes it much more than I do, and his opinion has the virtue of him actually having been there since 1979.)

2. For the foreseeable future? Florida.

FOUR places you’d like to revisit

1. Hawaii!

2. New York City!

3. Chicago!

4. Seattle! (These aren’t arranged in preference, but by how long it’s been since I’ve been to any of them. It’s been 4 years since Hawaii, this December; 10 years this November since NYC; 24 or so since Chicago (and that was a drive-by); 43 or so since the last time I saw Seattle.

TWO musical artists who make you want to change the station 

1. Toby Keith. I’m told his early stuff was quite good before he went all “Lee Greenwood’s Republican Country heir-apparent”, but I’ll never know.

2. It depends on the song, but sometimes Rush bugs me. “Tom Sawyer” is a frankly unpleasant thing to listen to.

FOUR musical artists you love to listen to

1. The Beatles! Longtime readers will know that I was not always a Beatles fan, but I came around quickly when I started listening to them with new ears after watching the movie Across the Universe.

2. The Killers. I missed them when they were first getting big (in the 2000s), but I’ve been listening to them quite a bit the last couple of years, particularly their live album taken from a concert they did at the Royal Albert Hall in London. I love their sound and their combination of tech-dance, pop, and even yacht rock with saxophone styles.

3. Glen Campbell. He’s a part of the soundtrack of my life.

4. Annie Lennox. Her voice is a miracle. She could turn the Alphabet Song into a work of art. She probably has!

TWO moments you’d like to erase

1. The 2016 and 2024 elections. Yeah, a two-fer, but seriously: when they write the story of how America might have done herself in and done so voluntarily, those are going to be the moments she did it.

2. I don’t want to write about the details–not now, maybe not ever–but my mother did not deserve for her last year to unfold the way it did. At all. (Though honestly, seeing the 2024 election turn out the way it did would not have done her any favors.)

FOUR moments you’d like to relive

1. 2008’s election…but honestly, with a lot stronger sense of keeping the foot on the gas. America’s progressives had a serious chance there to change things for good and for better…but they just said “Mission accomplished!” after that election and retreated to their napping chambers, allowing the Tea Party to rise up and set the stage for the transition to MAGA.

2. I’d like to have been able to see Avengers: Endgame in theaters in that first weekend. I don’t recall what was going on, but I couldn’t make screenings any of those first three weeks. It vexes me to this day.

3. OK, I’m taking these not so much as reliving the exact moments but somehow recapturing their energy and their feeling, right? There was a night some years ago, when The Wife was still working nights at the restaurant she managed, and I was home by myself (The Kid was here but playing games and whatnot), and I started watching a performance of Mahler’s Symphony No. 2 on YouTube while I ate the pizza I had bought for dinner. I’ve known that piece for years, since I was first learning classical music in my teen years, but something about that symphony just clicked in my head and in my heart that night. That happens with art: you can know a work and be familiar with it and somehow your love of it, your appreciation of it…its grip on you…just goes to a next level at some point, and you don’t see it coming. (The performance was Gustavo Dudamel conducting the Simon Bolivar Orchestra of Venezuela at the BBC Proms. You can watch the performance here…unfortunately the HD versions are no longer on YouTube, so far as I know, which is a pity. The performance is raw and imperfect–the Bolivar Orchestra was originally a youth orchestra–but the music-making is utterly superlative. Sometimes the energy of a good youth orchestra outstrips that of a seasoned professional ensemble.)

4. Finally? It’s silly and weird, but the best things are silly and weird, right? I’d love to relive the first time The Wife hit me in the face with a pie. It’s strange how often the key moments in our lives are ones we really can’t explain very well, isn’t it?

 

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Something for Thursday

Well, I don’t know how often I do this. It’s not very often. Probably the last time was something like Ravel’s Bolero.

I’m about to share something I don’t like at all.

See, there’s this thing that’s been going around social media of late, particularly Tiktok, where you share what the Number One song was when you were born. I looked mine up…and my shoulders sagged. My stomach fell. My heart sank.

I had never heard this before, so I had to go listen to it, hoping against hope that maybe it’s not terrible.

Oh, it is.

Look, I have no problem with this particular artist, but I knew upon seeing this song title that I was not going to dig this particular song. And lo! I did not.

Here, folks, is what was Number One in the land on September 26, 1971. I’m not even going to name it! If I’d waited another week, I’d have arrived during “Maggie May” by Rod Stewart’s chart-topping success. Alas!

Sigh. Here it is….

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