The Wellington Files

  • Huskies QB Penix Goes Limp in Michigan’s Historic 34-13 National Title Win!

    In a game that was much more tense than the score implies, our heroic Wolverines plowed their way to their first National Championship since 1997. Hail to the victors valiant!

    We watched from our room at the historic Ashland Springs Hotel in Ashland, Oregon. With its nine stories, it’s the tallest building in town. 

    Because of the 3-hour time difference, we knew the result of the game before it even began back East. But we were careful not to spoil it for Umich alums son Sam and his bride Sarah. (Wait, what?)

    We spent the hours leading up to the game visiting Southern Oregon U, home of the Raiders and its red-tailed hawk mascot. 

    Then we very much enjoyed The Boys in the Boat, rooting for the Huskies to win in the water if not on land. 

    We have a day to relax tomorrow before driving up to Corvallis to wrap up our tour. We’ll be taking in the Oregon State womens basketball game vs ‘Zona on Friday. Can’t wait!

    Thanks for dropping in! See you next time.

  • Visiting Windsor CA

    Our outing yesterday was to visit the little town of Windsor, CA. It was the home of Charles Schultz, of Peanuts fame. Hi Snoopy!

    Charlie Brown’s head is a globe here, so those brown splotches are continents. And he has a green thumb, so he is helping the planet. I’m glad my head’s not a globe.

    We visited an amazing candy store too. They sold 5 lb gummy bears ($60). Look at this place!

    Here’s that gummy bear. Linda is holding it. It’s heavy!

    Next we visited the library. Here is a drawing they had of Maya Angelou with a quote: “I always feel if I can get to a library I’ll be okay.” We do too, Maya.

    Ooooh, it’s time to pick up the Indian food! We had it for lunch back at the farm.

    Tamar’s husband Don is very sensitive to noise. And he’s an acupucturist. So he was needling her about her snoring. When we asked him if he slept well, he told us how long he slept and how long he was up listening to Tamar snoring. He said he recorded her on his phone, and then he played it for us. Very funny.

    I’ve been getting my puzzlework in. Yesterday there was a clue: “Those aren’t the best plans, in Southern slang,” and the answer was THAT DOG DON’T HUNT. There was a big flap over whether it should be “won’t” instead of don’t. I don’t have a dog in that hunt.

    We hope to get an early start for the 6-hour drive to Ashland. 

    See you later!

  • Redwood Forest

    Woke up to the sound of frogs outside. Good start to the day.

    Beautiful walk through a Redwood forest. 

    This old timer is well-respected.

    Burger and ale at the Russian River Brewery. Hit the spot. It’s known for its ales Pliny the Elder and Pliny the Younger. The latter is brewed for only two weeks in the Spring and people line up for it at 6 a.m. to buy limited amounts. I tried the Blind Pig IPA. It was excellent. (Oink.) (Burp!)

    One more day at the farm, then on to Ashland, OR. Weather may turn against us. Oh no! 😥

    See you tomorrow!

  • West Coast

    Touched down safely at SFO! Lunch at Niece Deborah’s in Berkeley.

    Then 55-mile drive to Niece Tamar’s fruit farm in Windsor. Wow! 

    First time tasting pineapple guava. Love it!

    Seeing some Redwoods soon. Temp in 60s. 

    Puzzle was a bear today, but it fell to my relentless attack around 3 a.m.

    Rex rated it medium. Argggh.

    Later.

  • 400

    In late-breaking news, Owl Chatter has learned that Claudine Gay has resigned as president of Harvard. Apparently, Phil’s report on Gay’s pole dancing played a significant role. Several Board members complained that it was a completely inappropriate activity for an officer of the university; others complained that her pole technique was unimaginative and derivative. Ouch!

    In sports news, The College of Biblical Studies womens basketball team forgot the eleventh commandment — Thou Shalt Work On Thy Foul Shots.  They probably forgot a few others too and lost to the Grambling State Lady Tigers 159 to 18.  That is not a typo.  It was 82-10 at halftime.

    A loss like that leaves scars.  The headline in the school paper the next day was “Holy Shit!”  And point guard Lindsay Belmont said after the game “That’s the last time I put my faith in Jesus.  F*ck!”

    Hey everybody. We’re celebrating post #400 today! They all went by so fast. If I really focused and tried hard, I might remember about 3 of them. Maybe. I remember some of the ebb and flow. How we lost our dear friend and caterer, Yev Pregozhin. But we gained George Santos! Georgie — grab a seat — we’re just chillin’ today. Phil should be by soon, and Ana said she’ll try to drop in if traffic on the GWB isn’t too bad.

    In sports, we made a lemonade of a baseball season out of the Gnats last-place finish (the lemons), and endured another Jets crash. Hopes are riding high on the UMich ‘Rines. They’re putting it all on the line versus the Washington Huskies on Monday. Go Blue!

    Hey — here they are! – Georgie, let them in — it’s Ana and Phil. Hey guys, we were just reminiscing a little. What can we get you Ana? George keeps the fridge filled with diet soda. We’ll pick up some Jersey Mike’s later. Phil, help yourself to those IPAs. Just save me one.

    So, Ana, any chance you’ll spill the beans on that third tattoo? We have the crescent moon on your wrist, above. And the famous tiny heart above your left ankle.

    But the third one has everyone buzzing — a date in Roman numerals: Dec. 28, 2020. What’s that about? C’mon, you can tell us. 

    OK, we’ll just consider it your dark secret, Madame de Armas.

    So I’m going to dig into the past and pick out one oldie to reprise. That may be fun, no? Let’s see. Here’s an item from about a year ago — 12/28/2022. (OMG, there’s that date again! Eerie.)

    The clue at 62A [on 12/28/2022] was “Size option at Starbucks,” for VENTI. Here’s LMS on it:

    No place can make me feel like an outsider like Starbucks can. I feel like such an imposter that I can’t bring myself to say VENTI. I have to practically whisper medium black coffee, please and even then my face burns with embarrassment that I’m not spouting off VENTI iced skinny hazelnut macchiato, two pump, sugar-free syrup, extra shot, light ice, no whip.

    T Trimble chimed in:

    I feel not so much an impostor in a Starbucks (hi @Loren) as I do like Larry David in Curb Your Enthusiasm, who refuses to deal with the stupid lingo. “I’ll have a vanilla……….. one of the vanilla bullshit things, you know, you, whatever you want, some vanilla bullshit latte cappu thing, you know, whatever you got, I don’t care.” Barista guy: “You got it.”

    Jackie Mason has some material on the topic too. Those high stools you have to sit on at some Starbucks. “You can’t get down — elderly Jews are sitting up there and they can’t get down. They have to ask for help from the Gentiles, ‘Please, mister, can you help me down from here, I could break a hip.’”

    And Bill Maher noted: The longer the Starbucks order, the bigger the a**hole.

    We’re not the only ones looking back today. Lewis the commenter and puzzle analyst on Rex’s blog “published” his top clues/answers from 2023 today and I’ll share them with you, because they’re brilliant. You may have to invest a good bit of brainpower to “get” them, even after you’re given the answer. But it’s a good investment to make. (The answers are below, with the names of the constructors in parens.)

    Clues

    1. Only human, briefly (4)
    2. It’s a mouthful, frankly (3)(3)(3)
    3. One who’s out and about (11)[*my favorite]
    4. ( and ) (4)
    5. Illegal product that’s still made? (9)
    6. Ones doing some heavy lifting before retirement? (5)
    7. Acute … or the opposite of acute (5)
    8. Walk in place? (5)(8)
    9. Telenovela profession (2)(3)

    Answers

    ADAM (Alex Rosen) (Get it? He was “briefly” the only human)
    HOT DOG BUN (Ada Nicolle)
    SLEEPWALKER (Robyn Weintraub)
    ARCS (Erik Agard)
    MOONSHINE (Malaika Handa)
    JACKS (John Nagamichi Cho)
    GRAVE (David P. Williams)
    FRONT ENRANCE (Tracy Bennett) (The “place” at which you walk in)
    TE AMO (Brooke Husic and Brendan Emmet Quigley) (“Professing”    (your love) in Spanish)

    Ok everybody — we’re closing shop early today, so we can have a little staff celebration – Phil! — go upstairs and get the owls! Ana — what toppings do you like on your sub? Plasticware okay?

    We’ll see you next time from California! Take care, everybody. Thanks for popping by for #400!

  • A Harp of Wind

    How better to start off the new year than with the smile of this lovely young woman, who will knock your teeth out with a stick if the situation calls for it?

    She’s Ella Shelton and she scored the first-ever goal in the new Professional Women’s Hockey League. She plays defense for NY, but apparently is not averse to scoring a goal from time to time. Ella will be 25 in two weeks and also plays on Canada’s national team.

    NY shut out Toronto 4-0 in the league’s inaugural game last night. The other four teams in the league are Ottawa, Boston, Minny, and Montreal. 

    How new is this league? The teams don’t have nicknames yet. We’ll keep an eye on it. And on Ella, of course. 

    Here she is in her team sweater. What’s that? — you think I misspoke and should call it her team “jersey?” Well, old-time hockey traditionalists will tell you those tops the players wear are sweaters. But that term is giving way to the more modern “jersey,” they’ll grudgingly concede.  Too bad. Why, the next thing you know, there’ll be women playing hockey too. D’oh! 

    Can you quantify hatred and bigotry? What’s their price? Well, it’s probably higher in NY, but in Kentucky it’ll cost you $360,104. That’s right, Kimmy. Remember Kim Davis’s 10 disgusting minutes of fame back in 2015. She’s the county clerk in Lexington KY who refused to do her job and issue marriage licenses to gay couples. She believed so strongly in her bigotry that she spent five nights in jail defying a federal court order until she caved and allowed the licenses to be issued by her staff. Lunatics on the right called her their Rosa Parks. Her defense — that God is a bigot too — didn’t fly in court.

    A lawsuit filed against her by the ACLU and a gay couple was successful and the couple was awarded $100,000. Davis was also required to pay the victors’ legal fees of $260,104. Yikes — that’s almost as much as the caterer’s bill!

    Nice shot, Philly.

    In this poem from today’s Writer’s Almanac by Barbara Hamby, the mockingbird addresses a coreopsis. If you’re like me, you’ll need to be informed that a coreopsis is a flower. Here’s one:

    You’ll also want to learn that a duodecimo is a book the size of about 5 x 7.5 inchies. That size is obtained by printing on sheets folded to form 12 leaves (24 pages).

    Okay, here we go. It’s a little long and is called “Thus Spake the Mockingbird.”

    The mockingbird says, Hallelujah, coreopsis, I make the day
         bright, I wake the night-blooming jasmine. I am
    the duodecimo of desperate love, the hocus-pocus passion
         flower of delirious retribution. You never saw such a bird,
    such a triage of blood and feathers, tongues and bone. O the world
         is a sad address, bitterness melting the tongues of babies,
    breasts full of accidental milk, but I can teach the flowers to grow,
         take their tight buds, unfurl them like flags in the morning heat,
    fat banners of scent, flat platters of riot on the emerald scene.
         I am the green god of pine trees, conducting the music
    of rustling needle through a harp of wind. I am the heart of men,
         the wild bird that drives their sex, forges their engines,
    jimmies their shattered locks in the dark flare where midnight slinks.
         I am the careless minx in the skirts of women, the bright moon
    caressing their hair, the sharp words pouring from their beautiful mouths
         in board rooms, on bar stools, in big city laundrettes. I am
    Lester Young’s sidewinding sax, sending that Pony Express
         message out west in the Marconi tube hidden in every torso
    tied tight in the corset of do and don’t, high and low, yes and no. I am
         the radio, first god of the twentieth century, broadcasting
    the news, the blues, the death counts, the mothers wailing
         when everyone’s gone home. I am sweeping
    through the Eustachian tube of the great plains, transmitting
         through every ear of corn, shimmying down the spine
    of every Bible-thumping banker and bureaucrat, relaying the anointed
         word of the shimmering world. Every dirty foot that walks
    the broken streets moves on my wings. I speak from the golden
         screens. Hear the roar of my discord murdering the trees,
    screaming its furious rag. The fuselage of my revival-tent brag. Open
         your windows, slip on your castanets. I am the flamenco
    in the heel of desire. I am the dancer. I am the choir. Hear my wild
         throat crowd the exploding sky. O I can make a noise.

    You know the expression “I wasn’t born yesterday?” Well, J.D. Salinger was born yesterday, on Jan. 1, 1919. The J. D. stands for Jerome David. The Catcher in the Rye started off as a short story called “Slight Rebellion Off Madison.” It was slated for publication in The New Yorker, but Pearl Harbor was bombed and its publication was nixed because it was deemed too trivial for the newly serious times.

    Salinger expanded it into the novel. The New Yorker refused to publish excerpts because they said that the children in it were unbelievably intelligent, and the style of the novel was too “showoffy.”

    He was married three times and had two children. His son Matt is 63 and an actor. He appeared in Revenge of the Nerds and Captain America.

    Let’s turn to the puzzle. At 30D, the clue was “Annoying process” and the answer was RIGAMAROLE. Well that set off the commentariat, let me tell you. Many expressed a preference for RIGMAROLE, dropping the first A. We checked with our buddy Miriam Webster. She says it’s “preferred” without the A, but sticking that A in does not make it incorrect.

    Commenter Joe D. asked some other folks: Alan Jay Lerner and Richard Harris. Give a listen:

    Heidi KLUM popped by at 29D. Did you know she has a daughter who’s a knockout too? Heidi is 50 now. 

    She has four kids: 3 boys and Leni, who is 19. Here’s Leni. Could you plotz? Phil! She’s only 19, rich, and lawyered up. Don’t you dare get any closer!

    I’m not going to try to top that with a human, but Rex is continuing to post holiday pet pix from his readers for just this last week. So here’s Woody. (Woof!) And Rex paying tribute to his dog Gabby (“Gabs”), who passed away in 2020.

    See you tomorrow everybody. Thanks for popping in. BTW, Owl Chatter is heading out to the west coast from Jan. 4 to Jan. 14 and posting may be spotty. We’ll see.

  • Hail To The Victors!

    Michigan 27 Alabama 20

    And, of course,

    Owl Chatter will return to the planet tomorrow. Happy New Year and good night!

  • What a Gift, this Neighborhood!

    You gay? (Not that there’s anything wrong with that.) If you are, you better tiptoe yo’ gay ass the hell out of Uganda, that’s for sure. Uganda passed a law in May that carries the death sentence for certain categories of same-sex offences and lengthy jail sentences for others. A handful of folks have been charged. 

    Burundi ain’t much better. President Unpronounceable (Ndayishimiye) said “If you want to attract a curse to the country, accept homosexuality. [Hmm. That may explain New Jersey.] I even think that these people, if we find them in Burundi, it is better to lead them to a stadium and stone them. And that cannot be a sin.” Of course not! Wait, what happened to “Thou shalt not kill?” Has that been repealed and I missed it? Is adultery still off the table? (Just kidding, darling.)

    It was a big Detroit night at Owl Chatter, as we turned our attention (and TV) to both the football Lions playing in Dallas, and our beloved hapless Pistons at home facing the Torontons. 

    The great news: it’s over. The losing streak is over. The Pistons won 129-127. They pretty much had it sewn up with an 11-point lead with not much time remaining, but then they didn’t. There was a steal, and a rain of three-point shots, and missed fouls. Suddenly, the lead was down to two points with one second to go. We just had to inbound safely, but that had become iffy with Toronto pressing and there were no time-outs left. A steal and a quick shot would tie it. Well, I forget who was inbounding, but he just heaved the ball to mid-court. Brilliant. Even if a Toronton caught it, he’d have just one second and would have to score from there. It was over. Cunningham dropped to his knees with emotion. It was over. 

    The Lions fared less well. Down by 7 with less than 2 minutes to go, they drove brilliantly down the field and scored. The extra point would send the game into OT. But Coach Dan Campbell is a riverboat gambler. He leads the league in crazy. We were going for two points: do or die. QB Jared Goff tossed the rock to Amon-Ra St. Brown who caught it. We win! But, wait. Not so fast, Gonzalez. Turns out the play was illegal, according to the refs. Some fuzzy rule on eligible receivers no one understands was violated. Lions lose.

    It’s okay, though. They’re still in the playoffs with a solid 11-5 record and one game to go. And they looked damn good! 

    This poem is by Mary Oliver. It’s called “Walking Home from Oak Head” and was in The Writer’s Almanac yesterday.

    There is something
    about the snow-laden sky
    in winter
    in the late afternoon

    that brings to the heart elation
    and the lovely meaninglessness
    of time.
    Whenever I get home – whenever –

    somebody loves me there.
    Meanwhile
    I stand in the same dark peace
    as any pine tree,

    or wander on slowly
    like the still unhurried wind,
    waiting,
    as for a gift,

    for the snow to begin
    which it does
    at first casually,
    then, irrepressibly.

    Wherever else I live –
    in music, in words,
    in the fires of the heart,
    I abide just as deeply

    in this nameless, indivisible place,
    this world,
    which is falling apart now,
    which is white and wild,

    which is faithful beyond all our expressions of faith,
    our deepest prayers.
    Don’t worry, sooner or later I’ll be home.
    Red-cheeked from the roused wind,

    I’ll stand in the doorway
    stamping my boots and slapping my hands,
    my shoulders
    covered with stars.

    The irrepressibly positive Lewis posted this lovely comment today on Rex’s blog, about Crossworld, the blog, and the community that inhabits its comments space:

    “I love this place. We have a regular gang, a beautiful quilt that warms the heart, supplemented by the bowl of popcorn – infrequent and one-time drop-ins – that, aside from a few uncooked kernels, add zing. It is a group formed by and infused with passion for a pastime we are smitten with.

    “What a gift, this neighborhood! It will once again, I know, bring Happy into the New Year, and I’m ever grateful for it and to you all. Wishing all much sweetness in the year ahead.”

    Amen to that, Lewis.

    Today’s puzzle was a crafty paean to a time-honored NYE tradition: the “ball drop” at Times Square at midnight. At five places in the grid there was a pair of “Before midnight” and “After midnight” clues with the word BALL “dropping” from the first to the second and forming part of it. E.g., at 87A, the “before” midnight clue was “Surpass” and the answer was GO BEYOND. Then, the B going down became BALL (clued at 88D as “Ump’s call”). And then at 109A the “after midnight” clue was “Totally lose it” and was LISTIC starting with the second L in BALL. So you had to combine BALL and ISTIC to get BALLISTIC.

    GOBEYOND
      A
      L
      LISTIC

    Alright. Never mind. Now you know how my students feel.

    Theresa CAPUTO was in the grid. You hear of her? Me neither. She’s a medium, and I don’t mean her size. She, like, reads minds and stuff. She must have been reading Phil’s, judging by this look she gave him. Just back away slowly, buddy.

    She’s from Long Island and had a TV show from 2011-2019 called Long Island Medium. (How the hell did they ever come up with that name?) It may shock you to learn that her claims of superpowers have been widely challenged, including by Randi, who used to be the magician “The Amazing Randi,” and who now unmasks frauds.

    But, okay, whatever. She’s respected as a “performer.” We’ve had worse people in the grid, although that hair isn’t winning her any points.

    Journalist KATIE Couric popped by too.  Looking good, girl! Take a load off. Hey, we never thanked you for popping Sarah Palin’s bubble way back when. Great work!!

    This was part of it:

    COURIC: And when it comes to establishing your world view, I was curious, what newspapers and magazines did you regularly read before you were tapped for this—to stay informed and to understand the world?

    PALIN: I’ve read most of them again with a great appreciation for the press, for the media, coming f—

    COURIC: But like which ones specifically? I’m curious that you—

    PALIN: Um, all of ’em, any of ’em that, um, have, have been in front of me over all these years. Um, I have a va—

    COURIC: Can you name a few?

    PALIN: I have a vast variety of sources where we get our news too. Alaska isn’t a foreign country, where, it’s kind of suggested and it seems like, ‘Wow, how could you keep in touch with what the rest of Washington, D.C. may be thinking and doing when you live up there in Alaska?’ Believe me, Alaska is like a microcosm of America.

    In other areas, Palin came across worse. When Tina Fey was working up her parody of Palin’s answer on the bank bailout, she used Palin’s actual answer verbatim.

    After the election, Couric was on with David Letterman and the Palin interview came up.

    COURIC: I’m not sure whether she was afraid to offend certain people, by, she would offend conservatives by saying she read the New York Times.

    LETTERMAN: Or people who don’t read. She was afraid of offending people who don’t read. Maybe that was it.

    Dear Readers: This is Owl Chatter post #398. We won’t hit #400 until next year. I have no idea how we’ll celebrate or who, if anyone, will attend (beyond Phil and George and the owls, of course). It will be as much of a surprise to me as it will be to you — just as, each morning, I have no idea what craziness the day will bring us. And yet close to 400 times enough nonsense to write about has popped up. It’s been a blast.  Ooooh! — maybe Ana de Armas will surprise us — it’s been too long! Ana darling — you free later this week?

    See you tomorrow!

  • Confetti!

    The mayor of Jacksonville FL, Donna Deegan, ordered the removal of two confederate statues from a public park and they were taken down on Wednesday. One depicted a woman in robes carrying a confederate flag, and the other a woman reading to two children. Per the NYT, they were erected in 1915 as part of a tribute to confederate women: part of a campaign to promote discriminatory Jim Crow laws and intimidate Blacks. They were commissioned by a national organization that promoted the “lost cause” myth that the Civil War was a noble fight for state rights (Hi Nikki!). Yeah, the “right of states” to legalize slavery.

    The very inappropriately named Florida state representative Dean Black filed legislation seeking to block cities from removing confederate monuments, and called Deegan’s actions a “stunning abuse of power.” (We’ll see how far it goes next year.) And the J’ville city council voted not to remove the statues when the previous mayor was in office. But the city’s general counsel determined that city council approval was not needed as long as city funds were not used, so Deegan went ahead and trashed them. It cost $187,000 and the funds were provided by anony-mouse donors and a grant from the Jessie Ball Dupont Fund.

    Here’s Deegan. Brava, Madam Mayor!

    Okay — since you asked. Jessie Ball was a teacher in San Diego who used her savings to provide scholarships to needy students. She married Alfred I. Dupont in 1921 and continued charitable giving on a larger scale. She died in 1970; the Fund continues her work. She said, “Don’t call it charity. I think it is an obligation.” Those who work for the Fund consider it a privilege.

    Wow — look at this lively puzzle grid today! The theme was CONFETTI, just in time for New Year’s Day!

    But something else marks the calendar today. Here’s what I posted on Rex’s blog about it:

    “Can we use some of that nice confetti to celebrate Sandy Koufax’s 88th birthday today? Happy Birthday SK!

    “Sandy gained renown in the Jewish community for refusing to pitch the first game of the 1965 World Series because it fell on Yom Kippur. He also skipped games for a Passover Seder one year, three times for the Jewish New Year, and he once left the mound mid-game when his mother reminded him it was his cousin Lenny’s bar-mitzvah, which he raced to attend while still in uniform. Alright, I made that last part up, but the rest is true.

    “Koufax’s first wife was Anne Widmark, daughter of actor Richard. He married three times but has no children. He has a step-daughter via his current wife and two step-grandchildren, who, I’m guessing, throw pretty wicked curveballs.”

    We’ll celebrate Sandy’s birthday like an Indian wedding (Hi Lizzie!) — for four or five days. So I’ll discuss his baseball feats a little later on this week.

    It’s an honor to have several autographs of his in my collection, including this beauty.

    This piece is called “Bright Spot in the Sky.” It’s from tomorrow’s Met Diary and is by Frederic Colier.

    Dear Diary:

    I was up early to catch up on papers for my classes when I heard a garbage truck grinding down my Harlem street. It was just before 6 a.m. and still dark outside. I realized I hadn’t taken out the trash.

    I got the plastic and the paper for recycling bagged up, but the truck was already past my house by the time I made it out to the street. 

    I caught up with one of the sanitation workers on the sidewalk.

    “Plastic?” I asked.

    “Paper,” he said.

    I chased the truck to the corner and tossed my paper straight in. Just then my eyes caught sight of an unmistakable bright spot in the starless sky.

    Seeing me stop, the worker stopped as well.

    I pointed up.

    “Venus,” I said.

    His eyes followed my finger.

    “This is Venus?” he said, his face breaking into a smile.

    His colleague, seeing the two of us look up, looked up too.

    “Venus,” we all said together, standing there for a few moments without another word.

    There must be a special neighborhood in hell for those who reap political gain on the backs of hungry children. Otherwise, what’s the point of it? Anyway, they are surely keeping a seat warm down there for Nebraska governor Jim Pillen, a Republican (voo den?). Under a federal program, Nebraska is entitled to receive $18 million to help feed 175,000 children next summer who might otherwise go hungry. The only cost to the state would be about $300,000 in administrative costs. That’s it. You spend $300,000, the low-income kids get $18 million. Except Pillen rejected the funds. 

    [Oops — make that two hot seats! – Neighboring Iowa is also opting out, with GOP Gov. Kim Reynolds spurning $29 million and saying, “[The program] does nothing to promote nutrition at a time when childhood obesity has become an epidemic.” Sure, blame it on the fat kids. That’s really low, Guv.]

    Pillen’s catching sh*t for it but not from anyone he cares about. He defended his decision at a news conference by saying “I don’t believe in welfare.” He said the state would continue to help food-insecure children through its Summer Food Program. Wait, what? I thought he didn’t believe in welfare? Now I’m really confused. Pass the donuts.

    Do you listen to the wind of your soul? Do you let your music take you where your heart wants to go? Have you swum upon the Devil’s lake?

    I need something to blunt the taste of those governors. You like Cat Stevens?

    That’s better. See you tomorrow! Go Pistons!

  • Fingerprints!

    Riddle: Something that all four of these things may have: old dishes, British pub, shoulders, poker table. (Answer below.)

    Owl Chatter is delighted to report we located a specimen of a highly endangered species: The decent Republican. Ohio Governor Mike DeWine vetoed the anti-trans bill that had passed in the state legislature. It would have restricted both transition-related care for minors and transgender girls’ participation on school sports teams.

    DeWine said the “gut-wrenching” decision about whether a minor should have access to gender-affirming care “should not be made by the government, should not be made by the state of Ohio,” rather it should be made by the child’s parents and doctors.

    More than a dozen major medical organizations — including the AMA, the American Academy of Pediatrics and the American Psychological Association — support access to transition-related care for minors and have opposed the state bans.

    I don’t think DeWine could have slept at night if he went along with the hatemongers and child-killers for crass political gains. It’s a wonder all those others can.

    Answer to the riddle: Chips.

    So we watched Moon last night, starring Sam Rockwell. It was decent but not great. Sam was great. Can’t recommend it.

    Checked on the Pistons after that. Holy Cow! They were up in Boston where the Celts are invincible and heavy favorites, like fuhgedaboutit. But when I went online to find the score Detroit was only losing by three, 106-103, and as I was looking at it, they tied it up. It turns out they had been ahead by 19 at halftime. Incredible. But the third quarter was a disaster and the lead dissy-pated. In the end, the game went into OT and the Pistons lost. Whew. It’s loss after loss, but they’re pretty intense lately. Good games.

    I tell this story in my law class when we cover notes and drafts (negotiable instruments). I tell them it’s a story about a different type of note – a love note.

    When Sam was just a little boy, in 3rd grade, he came home from school one day so upset I got worried. He was drenched in sweat and hyperventilating. I said, “Sam, what’s wrong?” I thought we might have to take him to the ER. He said he was in big trouble. “What?,” I asked. He said he wrote a secret love note to a girl in his class, Amanda, and he was was worried she’d find out it was from him.

    Well, that was a relief (for me). I said, “Okay, let’s go over all the details. Sometimes when you do that, you see that there’s nothing to worry about.” I just made that up and had no idea if it was true, but I thought it was a good way to get the story out of him.

    “So, what steps did you take to keep it a secret?,” I asked him.

    “Well, I didn’t put my name on it.”

    “He’s a genius!,” I thought.

    “I typed it, so she wouldn’t see my handwriting.”

    “Okay.” (This was back in the pre-computer days. We had an electric typewriter Sam liked to play with.)

    “And I made sure I was wearing gloves whenever I touched the paper.”

    “Why the gloves?” I asked. It was June and 80 degrees out.

    He looked at me like I was a complete idiot. “Fingerprints, Dad!”

    Of course! Sam had received a “detective kit” for his birthday, so he knew all about fingerprints. (BTW, thanks to the Fisher/Price people, your typical ten-year-old in this country is perfectly capable of pulling off a bank job.)

    “Okay,” I said. “It looks like you’re pretty safe. How did you get the note to Amanda?”

    He told me he gave it to her friend Emily to put in her book bag.

    “What!? You’re dead, Sam! Emily’s one of them. She’s on her team. Of course, she’s going to tell Amanda it was you!”

    But Sam said he was absolutely certain Emily was trustworthy. He wasn’t worried about that part of it.

    “Alright, alright,” I said. “Sounds good. But let’s say, worst case scenario, Amanda does find out. Why would that be so bad?”

    “Oh, no, Dad,” Sam said. ”I put too much love in it.”

    Like there could be such a thing.

    “Well, what did it say?”

    He started pulling little snippets of paper out of his pocket. His teacher that year was a big believer in rough drafts, so Sam made a rough draft of his note to Amanda. 

    “What’s that one?,” I asked.

    “That’s a draft of the note Greg wrote to Erin.” Aha! It turned out this was all Greg’s brilliant idea on the love notes. He was writing to Erin, and Sam was writing to Amanda.

    “What does Greg’s note say?,” I asked Sam, and he handed it to me.

    First of all, Greg spelled Erin incorrectly: Instead of ERIN, he wrote ERNI.

    “Dear Erni,” it began.

    I said, “Sam, I’m no expert in affairs of the heart, but it seems to me if you are writing a love note to someone you should spell their name right. How did you spell Amanda?”

    Now he was panicked all over again. ”A-M-A-N-D-A,” he said. 

    “Good! And what did you write to Amanda?”

    He said, “I wrote: Dear Amanda, my heart goes for you.”

    I said, “Sam, that’s beautiful. You’re only in third grade and you’ve already matched the most beautiful sonnets of Shakespeare. I don’t think you have anything to worry about.” 

    And he didn’t. Amanda never discovered who sent her the note.

    So I tell that story ever semester, and I say “So the next time you are alone with your special someone, and the lights are turned down low, and your favorite song is playing on your iPad, turn to him, or her, and say ‘Darlin’, my heart goes for you.’ And make sure you’re wearing gloves!“

    How proud would you be if your little girl stood up to all of Trump’s crap and booted him off the ballot? Here’s Shenna Bellows and her dad Dexter. They’re from Maine. Keep an eye out for her, Dad — it may get ugly.

    Sweet smiles to close on. Good night, folks. See you tomorrow.