If you have kids, remember what it was like having a little kid that was your own? This poem is called “Weather” and is by George Bilgere. It’s from today’s Writer’s Almanac.
My father would lift me
to the ceiling in his big hands
and ask, How’s the weather up there?
And it was good, the weather
of being in his hands, his breath
of scotch and cigarettes, his face
smiling from the world below.
O daddy, was the lullaby I sang
back down to him as he stood on earth,
my great, white-shirted father, home
from work, his gold wristwatch
and wedding band gleaming
as he held me above him
for as long as he could,
before his strength failed
down there in the world I find myself
standing in tonight, my little boy
looking down from his flight
below the ceiling, cradled in my hands,
his eyes wide and already staring
into the distance beyond the man
asking him again and again,
How’s the weather up there?
Tiger Woods’ mom Kultida (“Tida”) passed away yesterday. She was 78 and was born in Thailand. They were very close. She often walked the 18 holes of his golf tournaments with him. Sh*t, I often didn’t even want my mom coming to the mall with me. Sorry, mom!
On 60 Minutes Tida was asked whether she experienced prejudice in the U.S., and she said yes, especially from country clubs. “Some of them reject us,” she said. “I said, ‘Tiger, it’s their problem. It’s their ignorance. Be proud of who you are.’”
In 2010, when Tiger apologized in front of the national news media for f*cking up his marriage, he said his mother was among the people he had hurt, and that he had strayed from the Buddhist teachings she had instilled in him.
Tida embraced Tiger after he spoke. “I’m so proud to be his mom, period,” she said. “As a human being, everyone has faults, makes missteps and learns from it.” Yup. You don’t turn your back on your kids. Especially when they f*ck up.
Rest in peace, Tiger’s mom.
Rex’s blog had his regular monthly sub, Malaika, posting today. She’s wonderful. Here’s how she started off:
I solved this puzzle while eating a slice of chocolate cake. Also, it’s important that you all know I initially accidentally typed “I ate this puzzle while solving a slice of chocolate cake.” My quest for NYC Slice Of Chocolate Cake That Costs Under $10 is rabid and never-ending. Currently I am polishing off a slice of “Devil in Ganache” cake from Mah-Ze-Dahr Bakery which cost $7.50, or $8.17 with tax. I am literally begging you to give me your sub-$10 NYC chocolate cake slice recs in the comments. I will try every single one of them.
She shared this photo.
Many folks responded to Mal’s plea. Here’s what I posted:
This is not responsive, but the best chocolate cake I ever had was in NJ and over $10. South and Pine Eatery in Morristown. Call ahead because they often don’t have it.
Decades ago, I was with my friend Nancy and we were waiting for a table in a German pastry shop on the Upper East Side of Manhattan. I was on a diet and just getting coffee. She was going to splurge.
I said, “Nance, I’ve been here before. They are going to seat us at a table and hand us menus that say things like poffenkliegel and kleigenflieg. You won’t know what to order. So go over there to the display cases, decide what you want to get, and ask the guy behind them what it’s called. I’ll keep our place in line.”
I watched Nancy checking out all the items in the cases. Then she got the attention of the guy behind the cases and pointed to an item. “This one?” he asked. “No, that one a few over to the left.” “This one?” “No, one more over.” Finally, they connected. Then I heard him say: “Yes, we call that chocolate cake.”
[Hi Nancy! — you remember that?]
OC Note: 4 hours after I posted the above story on Rex’s blog, one of my favorite commenters, Gary, replied with the following (made my day):
“Yes, we call that chocolate cake.” Hilarious. Love this story. Reminds me of my Starbucks days when men would hold up their cell phone and say, “She wants this.” And I would look at them and ask, “You don’t know how to pronounce non-fat mocha?”
CHAI LATTE was an answer in the puzzle today and it led Mal to this short “rant.”
“Chai” is the Hindi word for tea, and some pedants get grumpy when you say chai tea (“That’s like saying ‘tea tea!!!’” they whine). But I wholeheartedly disagree! American English is filled with loan words from other languages that we’ve twisted and corrupted and embraced to become our own– that rocks!! And it rocks especially when we do so with food words, weaving immigrant flavors into our own language. CHAI LATTE is a particularly cute example to me, as it’s made up of not one but two loan words. That’s the American dream, baby.
Anony Mouse pointed out: The AAA baseball franchise playing out of Buffalo NY are the Buffalo Bisons. Literally, Buffalo Buffalo.
But burtonkd was having none of it. He wrote: The name of the city apparently comes from the French beau fleuve, which means “beautiful river,” so not literally duplicative for the AAA team. Also Buffalo and Bison are not the same animal.
Hrrrrrrumph!
Where are you on this one? The clue was “Fictional bandleader of the 1960s,” and the answer was SGT PEPPER. Some loved it and some hated it. I’m with the former, though the clue, I think, was supposed to hint somehow at the shortened form for the word “sergeant.”
I didn’t know until just now they could be lined up in height order.
There was a story recently about Paul attending a concert of Taylor’s and going backstage afterwards to wish her well. Her security guards were flummoxed because it was spur of the moment and he wasn’t on “the list.” It took a few moments to resolve and Taylor was mortified that Paul may have felt disrespected. She was so honored by his coming by. She apologized but he was very gracious and waved it all off. He told her he was happy she was “carrying the torch.” He was especially impressed by the effect Taylor had on her fans — how genuine and meaningful the connection was.
Think Travis should be jealous? Maybe a little.
Looking at that photo. There is so much of the past, present, and future in it. Going to let those two send us off tonight. See you tomorrow.
The Wellington Files 