There were no bicycles this week

The greatest honor of all honors at Fanny Hillers School (K-6) was to serve as a Junior Leader. This honor only befell to the members of the 6th grade class. On the first day of school in 6th grade, I got a slip of paper welcoming me to the ranks of the Junior Leaders and assigning me the duty of guarding over the bicycle rack. I knew this was a distinct honor. 

The bicycle rack was located next to the school and should have been heavily used but the arcane rules of the school forbid the use of this piece of infrastructure for students who lived within a mile of the school. Since a mile was less than the distance most students lived from the school, and those few students who lived more than a mile away could take the school bus,  it was, by mandate, an unused facility. Filled with slots for twenty bicycles, it was, sadly an empty encumbrance on the sight of the school grounds. I myself, living on Kaplan Avenue, a block away, was unable to take my own bicycle to school. 

As a junior leader, I had to submit a report every week on the status of my station and responsibilities. On Friday afternoons, the weekly meetings of the Junior Leaders necessitated not only the submission of said report but an oral reading of said report to the other Junior Leaders and the school principal. 

There was a notation of the report at the end where the student had to evaluate the status of his station with a checkmark besides the comments excellent, fair, good, or poor. Since it was difficult to evaluate a week where nothing happened, no bicycles entered or  housed at the facility, I chose to use the neutral determinative "good" to evaluate the week. Certainly "excellent" would be overstating the case and fair or poor might also be inappropriate.  

My report was sadly consistent. "There were no bicycles this week. The bicycle rack was good." Around the beginning of October I noticed a few chuckles from the audience at my report. 

I had accepted my fate, like any civil servant being ensconced in a cushy job. Then my life changed forever. A Monday morning in early November a girl drove up to the bicycle rack. We chatted and to the surprise of all the Junior Leaders, that Friday I proudly announced, "There was one bicycle this week, the bicycle rack was good." 

She was a regular user of the bicycle rack for a while. After that I don't know. In January I was assigned to a street corner and for the rest of the school year, the bicycle rack was an unguarded edifice.  I suppose the bicycle rack continued to be good. 

Who is Tammy Duckworth?

 

The past month I've noticed I get about two emails a day from somebody named Tammy Duckworth. I thought it was a country singer who was trying to sell me tickets to an Atlantic City concert. Turns out that Tammy Duckworth is a senator from Illinois. I sent the Democrats money last year during the year and for some reason, Tammy Duckworth thinks I am going to continue to support her throughout the year. No good turn goes unpunished. 

Non fungible tokens

Non fungible tokens are the latest rage in investing. You own the thing, typically an electronic object, but you can't use it commercially. You can't sell posters of the thing or use it in a youtube video legally. It's kind of vague about why you would want to buy one of these things. 

I would happily sell you a non fungible token for this blog for $100,000 if any of you would like to buy it. As for me, I think I'll stick to mutual funds. 

Netflix After Parties

 

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Why has nobody ever thought of this before? Hailed as a new concept in entertainment, we are now being introduced to the Netflix After Party. In the case of Ginny and Georgia, after we watch the series we are given a chance to watch the after party. Why not, after bearing up after ten episodes of the show we deserve a party. 

In the show we are introduced to the host, David Lane, and some of the cast members of the show. Some of the cast are in person, some are via Zoom. It promises to be an insightful and fun exploration of the show we have just seen. 

I suppose it's okay. Silly at times, inane, it is something new that has been added to our busy lives. The only thing I can think of that it resembles are those PBS salutes to favorite shows with interviews of stars and directors, enhanced with sales pitches for DVDs and public television memberships. 

One nice feature of the post Georgia show is that some of the cast members mentioned their ages. Teens are always portrayed by people in their twenties. Moms are always portrayed by people in their thirties. 

American Schadenfreude

 

There has always been a certain schadenfreude between America and Britain. We had Trump and they had Brexit. And now they have Meghan and Oprah and we have the 1.9 trillion dollar deal. It would take an American locale and an American talk show host to bring about the grief that the Brits have about the latest riff. It's not the first time that an American tv host embarrassed the Royal family. From the Crown, many of us  remember Prince Philip's interview in the early sixties. Again, the monarchy was embarrassed.

Arguing over the dinner table over Trump with Grandpa can affect our inheritances. However, a light banter over the Oprah interview is harmless entertainment for Americans. Since the stakes are low (unlike in England) we can have hours of mirth talking about Harry and Meghan.

Editor's note: I am now one of those privileged Americans that have obtained a covid shot. In six weeks I can travel!

Covid: Oh what should we do?

 I've been playing with the CVS covid vaccine site recently. You have to log in, hopefully at odd times, and wait til a "Fully booked" town turns into an "available" town and rush through the other parts of the process. So far, at the end no vaccine has been available. Reminds me of trying to score U2 tickets at Madison Square Garden. 

Things are getting better, but Doctor Fauci warns to be cautious. Actually I have been eating in restaurants and this seems to have been a safe procedure, at least so far. In my own experience, doctors always espouse the more conservative (and lucrative for their practices) procedure. They tell you to stop drinking when you can get away with an occasional drink. They tell you to go to the dentist once every three months when you can get away with six month intervals. They give you a stress test every year when you can get away with one every three years. Most of us will listen to the good doctor's warnings but then fudge them a little bit. We learn that we can get away with things after the important people go home. 

Editor's note: I am tired of looking at people getting shots. Please tv producers, we know what it looks like to get a shot and don't need to watch it anymore. 

My home town nostalgia

 

I, like many people, belong to a "my hometown" type Facebook group. It is a fun way to look at old photographs from my hometown as well as keeping tabs on the latest deaths in my age group. One thing I have noticed is that things get better in the fog of past remembrances. 

Corner stores with grouchy owners and overpriced items become the shrines to a neighborhood and a friend of all the kids who came by. We remember the ice cream sundaes but forget getting kicked out because we dallied too long in front of the Playboys. 

Intolerably long days in schools with teachers we hated become those fond days where we learned so much and gained a respect for history that we never lost. Tedious afternoons in Spanish class become temples where we learned a language that we were so happy to have when haggling over blankets in Guadalajara. 

I'm sorry but that old diner that everybody was lamenting went out of business when us baby boomers discovered MacDonald's. Fat Mikes went out of favor when they lowered the drinking age and we could go to bars. Downtown died when the malls opened. And now we are nostalgic about those haunts of yesteryear.