The Wellington Files

  • Rabbit Stew

    The clue at 32A today was “Kind of belt,” and the answer was BIBLE. The question was posed as to whether “belt” in that geographical sense, rose to the level of a “category.” Rex said all he could think of was the Bible Belt, the Rust Belt, and the Sun Belt. Of course, there’s the Borscht Belt. But research revealed an amazing number of “belts” of this nature, some of which are a hoot.

    The best by far is the Jell-O Belt: a region containing a large Mormon population, which includes Utah, of course. Mormons love Jell-O. Who knew? One of the official pins for the 2002 Winter Olympics in Salt Lake City was a green Jell-O jiggler in the shape of the state.

    “Salt Lake City is America’s Jell-O-eating capital. Every man, woman and child in Salt Lake City buys two boxes of the stuff annually, or twice the national average,” says Mary Jane Kinkade of Jell-O maker Kraft Foods. Utah residents also eat twice as much lime Jell-O as anyone else on the planet.” Come on Jersey — step it up!!

    Get this — In 2012, Slate criticized the phrase “Jell-O Belt” as rooted in misogyny and infantilizing stereotypes of Mormon culture. “In making Jell-O ‘their’ food, Mormons (or Lutherans or Methodists) are making a statement about their identity, accepting all of the food’s positive connotations of family-friendliness, child-centeredness, and domesticity. Outsiders, in contrast, often see Jell-O as a mark of a lack of taste that renders this group strange, immature, and ultimately mockable.”

    Personally, I can take it or leave it. I enjoyed it very much after my prostate surgery when it was all I could eat for a short period . Not lime, though.

    Overall, there are roughly 20 belts including the Black Belt in the South (particular concentration of Blacks), Indiana Gas Belt (an area in Indiana (duh) where there was a gas boom in the late 1890’s and early 1900’s), Lead Belt (SE portion of Missouri with a long history of lead mining), Pine Belt (southern Mississippi), Pretzel Belt (Pennsylvania, of course), Rice Belt (southern states), and the Salt Belt (Northeast and Midwest where much salt is used on the roads in the winter).

    The scariest is the Stroke Belt, a region in the Southeast that has an unusually high incidence of stroke and other forms of cardiovascular disease. Ouch!

    The name of this poem is “Daughter,” and it’s by Lisel Mueller. It’s from today’s Writer’s Almanac.

    My next poem will be happy,
    I promise myself. Then you come
    with your deep eyes, your tall jeans,
    your narrow hands, your wit,
    your uncanny knowledge, and
    your loneliness. All the flowers
    your father planted, all
    the green beans that have made it,
    all the world’s recorded pianos
    and this exhilarating day
    cannot change that.

    Today’s theme was magic, in particular pulling a rabbit out of a hat. You can see the hat in the center of the grid and the word TIBBAR emerging from it. That’s RABBIT backwards to show that it’s being pulled out of the hat.

    Quite a few commenters were upset that the rabbit seems to be pulled out upside down. In the actual trick, the magician reaches in and pulls the rabbit out right-side-up. But I agree with the comment that said the letters only indicate the direction the rabbit is moving in — coming out of the hat as opposed to going in — and that it may not itself be upside down.

    I added my two cents to the discussion with the following inane post:

    If the rabbit him (or her) self does not sense that he or she is upside down, I don’t have a problem with it. But that may be hard to discern.

    The very pretty ARIANA Grande dropped by the grid today, perhaps to pick up some vocal tips from old pro ETTA James. Nice to see you both! Fred’s here too — Fred ASTAIRE. No doubt he’ll make good use of that top hat once the rabbit it out of it. Quite a music fest for us today. (Wow. Nice shot, Philly.)

    Here’s Etta, in full command.

    Some interesting material flared up over 54A. The clue was “Not as well,” and the answer was (the awful, IMO), ILLER. A commenter who goes by ghostofelectricity posted:

    My favorite use of the word “ILLER” occurred in the 1946 film version of W. Somerset Maugham’s “The Razor’s Edge,” directed by Edmund Goulding (don’t bother with the ridiculous 1984 remake, starring a badly miscast Bill Murray). Near the end of the film, American expat socialite Elliott Templeton (Clifton Webb in one of his best performances), in bed and gravely ill from a heart condition, cries bitter tears and complains for ten minutes about not being invited to a soirée being given by another American expat socialite whom Elliott helped introduce to European high society and whom he insulted (he revealed that she was carrying on with her chauffeur). Maugham (Herbert Marshall), calms Elliott and tells him “I’m afraid you’re much ILLER than you realize.” Elliott immediately calms down and says “Do you mean I’m going to die?” He then placidly begins planning for his imminent demise, calling for the priest to give him last rites, etc. Elliott cries and whines like a baby at length about being snubbed at an invitation for a party, but takes the news of his impending death with equanimity and courage. Great scene. If only they made movies like that now.

    A later comment noted that the wedding gown Gene Tierney wears in the film was the actual wedding gown her husband–the designer Oleg Cassini–made for her. But they eloped and the film was the only time she wore it.

    I knew it was a long shot but I asked our incredible Owl Chatter photographer Phil if he might have caught Tierney wearing that gown.
    “Of course,” he said. “Who do you think caught the bouquet?” Here she is.

    See you tomorrow! Thanks for dropping in.

  • En garde!

    A small piece in Heather Cox Richardson’s letter today caught my eye. The DOJ reached a settlement with the families who were separated at the border by Trump back in 2017-2018. More than 5,500 children were separated from their parents. As you’ll recall, a judge overruled the policy. After Biden stole the election, he set up a task force to reunite the families who were still separated. But the Trump folks had kept no records of the family members! WTF!! Eighty-five of the children are still, today, without their parents. The task force also learned that 290 of the kids were U.S. citizens. God bless America.

    In the puzzle today there was an unusual clue/answer at 13D: “‘My word is my bond,’ informally.” The answer was ON GOD. To no surprise, it sent Rex off a bit:

    Speaking of formal v. informal, what the hell is going on with the “ON GOD”!? (13D: “My word is my bond,” informally). How is “ON GOD” informal? Can you be “informal” and absurdly archaic as well? Who says “ON GOD?” If you said that to me, I’d assume you were challenging me to a sword fight. Me: [brandishing sword at you]. You: [looking surprised]. Me: “Wait, didn’t you say ‘en garde’? … no? … [sheathing sword] phew, good, you had me worried there for a second.” I don’t know when this phrase is used “formally” or “informally.” I know that Canadians stand “ON GOD” for thee, Canada, but otherwise I don’t know what’s going on with the phrase, and I cannot believe that whatever is going on, it qualifies as “informal.” 

    [Of course, the Canadians stand “on guard,” not “on God.” Wouldn’t it be disrespectful to stand “on God?” Wouldn’t He, like, “Get off me, you fucking Canadians.” (Rex corrected himself later.)]

    This poem from today’s Writer’s Almanac by Patrick Phillips is called “Once.”

    the father
    of my son’s friend
    watched his father die.

    Then for some reason
    came, still grieving,
    to a soccer field where I,

    a guy he knew,
    or kind of knew,
    stood with the others

    trying not to stare
    at the there-
    but-for-the-grace-of God    –

    go-I of him:
    his eyes raw-rimmed
    behind dark glasses

    as herds of little bodies
    shrieked and galloped
    all around us—

    whoever he was before
    a trace, a remnant now,
    shaking in the gray October wind:

    the truth about love, about all of us,
    so plain in him
    there was nothing left

    but to pretend
    I was not watching
    out the corner of my eye

    when the muddy dog,
    and the bouncing ball,
    and the children

    chasing after it
    all seemed to veer
    and disappear inside him.

    Owl Chatter friend Riverdale Joe tells me he’s pretty sure the picture of Phyllis Coates (Lois Lane) I posted yesterday (which he aptly described as “the hot movie star on a ladder”) was of Rita Hayworth and not Coates!! D’oh! What’s this world coming to when you can’t trust random crap you pick up off the internet, I ask you? The photo comes from a bunch of shots identified as of Coates in their writeup of her in Thebiography.org. But they could be wrong — Joe’s quite the old movie buff and he knows his starlets.

    This one is definitely her. No question.

    Egsforbreakfast had me chuckling today. One of the answers was DRESS DOWN DAYS. He opined that’s when women wear dresses made out of duck feathers. For THUNDER CLAP, he said it was a sequel to THUNDER BALL, in which Bond comes down with the condition and is saved by massive doses of antibiotics. I guess that’s what happens when you do it everywhere (see below).

    Oy, I’m tired from my classes. Let’s call it a day. See you tomorrow.

  • Driving Louise Glück

    Wake up, everybody! Good morning! We’re back in Jersey — back to our miserable lives. I used that line with our driver to the airport yesterday (“Back to our miserable lives”), and he loved it — I’m sure he’ll share it — he was a little gabby, in a nice way.

    But we had to get up early today — had to drive Lianna to school (our Monday job), and now I have exams to grade. You too, Mr. Sun — time to get up! Remember this one?

    Well, you finally made it, Buddy — 65A in yesterday’s puzzle: “Character asked to ‘shine down,’ in a children’s song.” MR SUN!

    I was lamenting that our itinerary had a major flaw in it — it got us home in time for me to watch the Jets get slaughtered by the Eagles yesterday. But in the “battle of the greens” the Jets won 20-14, coming from behind on the strength of their defense and field goal kicker. How surprising a win was it? Well, the Eags were 5-0 coming into the game and were the NFC champs last year, and the Jets were, well, they were the Jets. Let’s look at it another way — in the entire history of the Jets franchise (about 60 years) they had never beaten the Eagles. Never as in “never.” They were 0-12. That tied the longest losing streak for any team against another team in the history of the NFL.

    So, — nice going, guys. Good win — permission to crow granted.

    The theme of today’s puzzle was MOVIE BUFFS, a pun meaning movie stars who are “buff,” i.e., all muscled up. The theme answers were CHANNING TATUM, JASON MOMOA, MR T, and DWAYNE JOHNSON. Here’s JM. Yeah, I can see how he made the cut.

    Even from under my rock I had heard of all of them except Momoa, although, admittedly, I thought Channing Tatum was a woman. Must’ve been thinking of Tatum O’Neal. She can play Liz Cheney when the time comes, no?

    Not even Superman could save her. Phyllis Coates, who played Lois Lane on the Superman TV series for one season, passed away at her retirement home in California last Wednesday at the age of 96. Cause of death was falling off a ladder. [No it wasn’t.] Gotta find those rungs, Lo Lo! We can certainly see how the S-man fell for her. Who wouldn’t?

    The Superman TV show first aired in 1952, and, more than 40 years later, in 1994, Phyllis played Lois Lane’s mother in an episode of “Lois & Clark: The New Adventures of Superman.” She was tickled to do so and her only request was that they try to make her look like Lois’s mom and not her grandma.

    She only played Lois for a year. The producer wanted her back but she left for other roles. She was a guest star on “Gunsmoke,” “Rawhide” and “Perry Mason,” as well as “Leave It to Beaver,” which was directed by Norman Tokar, her husband at the time. She was born Gypsie Ann Stell. Her son passed away in 2011; she is survived by two daughters and a granddaughter, all of whom are pretty damn proud that their mom and grandma was once Superman’s heartthrob.

    In 1953, while she was still portraying Lois Lane, Ms. Coates told The LA Times that her 4-year-old daughter questioned why Superman’s disguise fooled people: it was just a pair of glasses, a hat and a suit over his Superman outfit. “She just can’t understand why I can’t see through Superman’s disguise in the telecasts. She thinks I’m quite stupid about the whole thing.”

    Rest in peace, Lois.

    The poet Louise Glück died last Friday at her home in Cambridge MA at the age of 80 from cancer. She was pretty much awarded every honor that exists, including the Nobel Prize in 2020. She was born in NYC and grew up on Long Island. She was Jewish, a fact omitted from her NYT obit. Her father, Daniel, was a businessman and a frustrated poet who, among other things, helped invent the X-Acto knife, an essential tool for dollhouse enthusiasts. Her mother, Beatrice, was a homemaker. (BTW, Glück is pronounced glick.)

    Here is one of the comments posted on her NYT obit.

    When I was a creative writing grad student in Boston in 1996-97 I had the good fortune of driving Ms. Glück to various appointments. She couldn’t drive then. I remember being so nervous the first time I picked her up that I nearly ran a man over at a crosswalk. What a look I got from him. I was like, “Dude, I’ve got Louise Glück in here, okay? I’m not well. Move along, please.” I’m not sure if Louise ever fully relaxed after that but the rides continued and her discussions about writers and writing were very generous and informative. To be present at her readings was intense and transformative. She was powerful. What a privilege.

    To her credit, Glück had very little patience for Phil’s inane attempts to get her to smile. Gotta know when to fold ’em, Philly. Glad you caught that old typewriter, though. Apparently, she wrote all of her poems by elbow.

    Oy, that’s quite enough nonsense for today. Thanks for popping by. See you tomorrow.

  • Hail Chicken Caesar!

    We are back from the great Ireland vacation safe and what passes for sound among us lunatics. What a beautiful and welcoming land. It’s dedicated to wonderful music, beer, and endless scenes of great beauty they have the luxury of just taking for granted. Their second tier consists of literature and sports (rugby, soccer, and hurling). We were sad to say goodbye. Just stay off the roads.

    Two six-hour flights meant I watched the Sarah Silverman special 2.75 times. You might like this part:

    I was doing a show in Hawaii and staying at the Four Seasons. I went down for a swim and saw that they had a sign — a professionally made sign — that said: “If you have diarrhea, or have had diarrhea within the last two weeks, you are not allowed in the pool.”

    Why not just come out and say it: No Jews allowed.

    What Jew could possibly go two weeks without even a little diarrhea? Kim (a Jewish woman she had chatted with earlier) – I’m asking you as a Jew — have you ever gone two weeks without diarrhea? That would be viewed as a miracle. What was the miracle of Hanukkah? — a lamp worked. A lamp worked for longer than it was supposed to. This would blow that right out of the water. “She only had enough Immodium A-D to last for two nights — but it worked for 14 nights!!” — You may enter the pool. Dayenu!

    We very much enjoyed all of our meals. Hotel breakfasts were part of our deal and they were very good. Not as good as Israel’s, but good. One of the options in Galway was “grilled fish.” The day I ordered it, it was cod, and it was perfectly prepared. Omelets were excellent, with greens and their wonderful Irish cheeses. Smoked salmon is plentiful — it’s the point at which Jews and the Irish intersect, though we call it lox. Coffee in Ireland is very good. No need for Starbucks, which we only saw in Dublin.

    I brought a nice chunk of Irish Cheddar back as a gift for Daughter #1. I loved that we bought it from a “cheesemonger” in Dublin. I put it in my carry-on bag thinking it shouldn’t represent a security risk. It’s been pretty well-established that terrorists don’t even like cheese, amirite? But I was wrong! My bag was targeted and pulled aside for closer inspection. The agent took out the cheese (the cheesemonger had vacuum-sealed it for me), and took it over to some special high-tech thingie for analysis. I waited nervously. He came back and gave me a thumbs up. Whew! I just better remember to tell Caity to be careful when she slices it — I slipped a razor blade into the center.

    Speaking of food, the single best thing I ate all week was a sandwich at a little bakery, coffee, and sandwich place right next to where we dropped off the rental car in Dublin. We were exhausted and starving, since we had to leave Killarney around 7 to get the car back in time to avoid an extra day’s charge. So we missed breakfast and it was around 12:30 when we were done. We sat down to rest in a little enclosed bench area and two young Irish women came in with sandwiches and hot drinks from the little bakery. I asked one if it was a good place and she pointed at her sandwich and said, “This is amazing.”

    That was good enough for me. It was a tiny bakery that just sold breads, coffee, and a selection of five or six sandwiches. The coffee was excellent and the sandwiches out of this fuc*ing world. I had the Chicken Caesar. The roll it was on was perhaps the best roll I’ve ever had. The only negative was that for about 45 minutes I had no choice but to exclaim Hail Chicken Caesar! at regular intervals. It made no sense from so many angles — Caesar was a brave man, for one thing. But there was no stopping me. Great sandwich, though. How great? — Ate two. [No, I didn’t, but I had to get my et tu joke in.]

    You can’t walk three blocks in downtown Dublin without running into somebody playing music, often very well. They are called buskers and they are busking, hoping you’ll drop some coins into their hat or guitar case. These two, below, were the best we heard: guitar and banjo. The guitarist said he had to wake his girlfriend up at 7 that morning so they could go and pick up a car battery so he could go busking. And I noticed his guitar, mic, and amp were hooked up to a car battery for power.

    More nonsense tomorrow. Thanks for popping in.

  • There Is Such A Thing As Too Much Beer

    I misunderstood the waitress at the Killarney Brewing Company. I should’ve just ordered a half pint of blonde and a half of pale ale, but I asked about their “flights” — smaller samples of 3 or 6 varieties and somehow got the impression that the flight of 6 totalled just 16 oz: a pint. Wonderful! I ordered it and she brought 6 half pints: 48 oz. D’oh!

    Idiot! Beer would be wasted because of me. The shame of it. The horror.

    I brought two half pints to the gents sitting nearby and explained my situation and offered them to them. One declined but the other was happy to take one.

    I didn’t feel comfortable wandering all over the place offering beer to strangers, so I ended up wasting about a pint and a half. It will take me a while to get over it.

    Our plan for our last day in Killarney was to take a two-hour walking tour of the National Park. It started at 11 from a spot about 20 min from the hotel, so we left at 10:25 to give ourselves plenty of time.

    Employing all of my navigational skills, we arrived at 11:35. (Not kidding.) So we just ferblunged around the park ourselves. Very pretty.

    BTW, I referred to a town on the Ring of Kerry yesterday as Sneed, but it’s Sneem. There is a large stone sculpture commemorating a two-week visit Charles de Gaulle paid to Sneem after he retired. The guide said the locals refer to it as the de Gaulle stone.

    After a harrowing 4-hour drive to Dublin, we got rid of the car. I will never drive in Ireland again. That’s the first resolution I’ve ever made that I know I’ll keep.

    One more day in Dublin and then home.

    Good night everybody.

  • Kerry

    Here’s an Irish joke we heard while touring the Ring of Kerry.

    This farmer gets a visit by an agricultural inspector from the Government. He shows him his badge and says he has to have a look around.

    The farmer says, Go ahead, but please don’t enter that one area behind the barn.

    The inspector shows him his badge and says, This badge gives me the authority to inspect the entire farm, and it is not to be limited in any way.

    The farmer says OK, and returns to his chores.

    Forty minutes later he hears a commotion from the area behind the barn. He goes over and sees a big bull chasing the inspector who has dropped his clipboard and lost his hat while fleeing.

    “Show him your badge! Show him your badge!,” the farmer shouts.

    This photo is of a sheepdog trainer.

    That small black dog behind the sheep, Claire, just brought them all in from pretty far up the hill. The sheep farmer uses four commands conveyed by voice or whistle. Those are six sheep to show us how it’s done. Claire can bring down 200 – 300 if needed. Once Claire starts to gather them, the sheep flock together.

    It’s flocking amazing.

    Sorry, I meant to say fucking amazing.

    This shot is from a very pretty little town on the Ring: Sneed. We stopped for coffee which was outstanding.

    The driver mentioned the Killarney Brewery which we’re visiting soon. He said their most popular brew is the Killarney Blonde. He said if we gents have one, we can say we’ve had a Killarney blonde and the wives won’t mind.

    Here’s a beautiful Irish redhead.

    We’ll let her pretty eyes send us off tonight.

    See you tomorrow!

  • Killarney

    The rubber duck knows no frontiers. That’s what it says on the wall of the shop that sells nothing but small rubber ducks, albeit in a seemingly endless variety.

    It’s just up the street from what I thought was an old-time phone booth, but in fact is a defibrillator booth.

    May come in handy.

    Gotta love Killarney.

    The drive down was marked by the tire pressure light coming on again. Depending on the prevailing winds across the Atlantic, you may have heard my screams. But a great old Irish guy in a service station out of the 1950’s fired up his air compressor and got us moving again.

    No more driving till it’s time to return the car. Ring of Kerry via bus tour tomorrow. Walking tours after that.

    Food has been good. There’s a brewery across the street here. Will check it out at some point.

    Thanks for popping in!

  • Don’t Drive Like My Brother!

    Ouch. Driving here is hard. The main two-way roads are just a little less than two-cars wide. It feels like you are always driving into oncoming traffic. I blew a tire out swerving left several hundred times. Opened the trunk to find no spare. Lovely woman helped us call for help and a great tire guy fixed the wheel and put a new tire on. I did quite a number on it and will likely do so again before we’re through.

    Cliffs were pretty.

  • Galway

    What a lovely land!

    View from our room in Galway.

    Off to the Cliffs now.

    See you later!

  • Abstract Abstraction

    “Knot without a struggle” was a cute clue today for CLIP-ON TIE. I don’t think I’ve ever used one, though I don’t often wear ties these days. We sent our crack photographer Phil to find a pretty girl wearing a tie, and here’s whom he came up with. Can’t blame her for eyeing him a bit suspiciously. Who knows what he was up to? Phil!! No funny stuff!!

    If you do not enjoy opera, you will like the clue/answer at 16A: “Where there is ‘too much singing,’ per Debussy.” Answer: OPERA.

    Joe Dipinto noted that “Debussy himself did compose an opera, Pelléas et Mélisande, which has, y’know, quite a bit of singing in it. I remember reading this succinct plot synopsis of it somewhere: ‘Nothing happens, then Mélisande dies.’”

    Another good clue was “How a sailor achieves a good work-life balance?” and the answer was SEALEGS. “Work-life” here means “life while at work,” not balance between work and life.

    The theme was revealed by “prevails eventually,” which was ENDS UP ON TOP, and for the theme answers the ends of the words shifted to the front to form a new word or phrase. Here they are:

    1. Lineage became age line
    2. Barstool became toolbars
    3. Tapered became red tape
    4. Headspin became pinheads
    5. Potshot became hotpots
    6. Tablescraps became craps tables

    Here’s the cartoon for this week’s New Yorker cartoon caption contest.

    I’m voting for “How’d you get yours off?”

    Are you a Stevie Nicks fan? If so, you might try to pick up one of the new Barbie dolls that Mattel brought out recently that captures her likeness wearing the outfit from Rumours. They are selling for $55. Don’t dawdle, though — pre-orders sold out fast.

    Even though the album came out in 1977 (ouch!), Stevie still had the outfit. She sent it over to Mattel and they used it to model the doll along with the Pasquale Di Fabrizio black platform boots, which Stevie called “gorgeous.”

    Mattel has been producing celebrity dolls since the 1960’s. The Tina Turner doll’s hair must have been a challenge. Tina, aleha hashalom, was very much involved with the doll’s design.

    The dolls are not limited to females. There are two David Bowie dolls. The one on the right, below, doesn’t look much like him, but Mattel explained it was designed to be Barbie herself with a David Bowie look. The one on the left really nailed it, IMHO.

    You may not have heard of Celia Cruz (I hadn’t), but you (and I) should have. Not only is she the Queen of Salsa, but the U.S. Mint is planning to put her on a quarter next year as part of its American Women Quarters program. No sh*t! She’ll be jangling around in your pocket before you know it.

    Well, Mattel is not about to let itself be scooped by the U.S. Mint. So they recently revealed their Cruz Barbie. Mazel Tov Celia!

    Getting back to Stevie. Did she see the Barbie movie? The answer is yes, and she loved it. She said: “I had to come right home and tell my Stevie doll all about it.”

    BTW, the other four women to be honored by the U.S. Mint with quarters next year will be Reverend Dr. Pauli Murray, the Honorable Patsy Takemoto Mink, Dr. Mary Edwards Walker, and Zitkala-Ša.

    Patsy Mink was the first woman of color and the first Asian-American woman elected to Congress, and is known for her work on legislation advancing women’s rights and education. In 2002 Congress renamed the Title IX Amendment of the Higher Education Act, which Mink had co-authored, as the “Patsy T. Mink Equal Opportunity in Education Act.”

    “Pauli” Murray was an American civil rights activist, advocate, legal scholar and theorist, author and – later in life – an Episcopal priest. Murray’s work influenced the civil rights movement and expanded legal protection for gender equality. She went to college at, get this — Hunter College! Go Hawks!

    Zitkala-Ša wrote the libretto and songs for the first American-Indian opera, The Sun Dance Opera, and was an agitator for Native American rights.

    Dr. Mary Edwards Walker was an American abolitionist, prohibitionist, prisoner of war, and surgeon. She is the only woman to receive the Medal of Honor, the US Armed Forces’ highest military decoration awarded to recognize American soldiers, sailors, marines, airmen, etc. who have distinguished themselves by acts of valor.

    This beautiful art-space, above, is the Long Island City Artists Art Space in The Factory building in Long Island City (Queens), NY. We sent Phil over to take this shot of it because we have some wonderful news: An esteemed, if not steamed, member of Owl Chatter’s Art Department, Bob Lobe, just informed us that two of his paintings will be in the group exhibit “Abstract Abstraction” which opens there next week!

    If you’re up for a pleasant distraction, catch the action at Abstract Abstraction.

    There is an opening reception on Thursday, October 12th from 5 to 8pm. The exhibit is on view from October 12 to November 22. Gallery hours for the Art Space are Wednesday to Saturday, 10am to 6pm.

    (Don’t all go at once, Owl Chatter fans — organize yourselves.)

    The address is The Factory, 30-30 47th Avenue, Suite 105a, Long Island City. The Factory building is located very close to LaGuardia Community College. By subway, it is a 5 minute walk from the 33rd Street – Rawson Street station on the #7 train.

    Hope you can make it over there — we’re going to try to catch it. If you go, let us know what you think.

    Hey! Wow! That’s Bob, below, way on the right!

    Good night everybody! Tomorrow night we fly off to Ireland. Yikes!