“Anthony Scaramucci, the short-lived White House communications director, is making the rounds on TV next week. Scaramucci will be interviewed by George Stephanopoulos on ABC’s This Week on Sunday. Then he’ll appear on “The Late Show with Stephen Colbert” on CBS on Monday.” — CNN.com
Folks, here’s a story about Tony the Moocha’
He was the red-hot Scaramucc(a)
The roughest, toughest gym-ripped male
Ain’t no way is he gonna end up in jail
(Call and response chorus)
Hi-dee hi-dee hi-dee hi (hi-dee hi-dee hi-dee hi)
Mooch took the call, sold stocks, his wife just gone
Fame’s ahead — what could go wrong
Left the Street named Wall for an Office that’s Oval
Won’t bury Caesar, but he packed a shovel
(Call and response chorus)
Hi-dee hi-dee hi-dee hi (hi-dee hi-dee hi-dee hi) (Similar scat improv for lines 3 and 4)Continue reading →
DATELINE MIRTHOLOGY — “All it takes is patience, Ben. When you’re right, sooner or later the world sees things your way,” Crystal Britches said of Fayetteville.
I set up an interview to hear what she thought of the football stadium’s new clear bag rule.
We were sitting on the steps of the Walton Arts Center, just renovated after 25 years of hard culture. We’d walked our lunches over from food trucks. I wondered how she’d keep from marring her usual transparent plastic pants on the white concrete then saw she was sitting on a scarf.
She spotted my glance.
“You know it’s to keep the slacks from abrasion, not cush’ for my tush, honey,” the elder stateswoman of progressive locals said. “I’m never out of shape. I spend 15 minutes at the barre in my den every morning, then of course yoga and meditate.”
On Aug. 4, the University of Arkansas announced in the “Clear Bags Offer Razorback Fans New Game Day Flexibility” news release that conventional sacks, purses, packs and the like would be banned from Reynolds Razorback Stadium allowing only see-through bags and not too large at that. This flexibility begins with this coming football season.
Crystal is a former ballroom dancing champion, from eons before the TV contests, which she mocks. Indeed her legs are her finest physical attribute. We began to bond, in an eccentric aunty to gentleman way, upon my reporting on her in the aughts. I had told her my mother felt the same way, proud of her gams into her 80s. Mom did dress far more traditionally, after all she was a Fort Smith girl.
This wasn’t exhibitionism on the part of Crystal Britches. She still expected and got admiring looks — from all ages and several preferences — when she strolled through the Farmers Market on the Fayetteville Square on most Saturday mornings. But she held on to the decades-old theory of humidity improving skin tone and overall health.
Soup, cooled, is a smoothie. A smoothie warm is soup.
This blog in recent years has focused more on food. Those mainly have covered recipes. A few posts have explored the thinking, how my preferences developed.
Pureeing soups as a trend began the decade before last. They’re still hard to avoid. I like to see then eat a multitude of colors, textures and shapes. Can’t tell the carrots from the broccoli when you whiz everything down to pulp.
There are exceptions, like potato-leek soup. Both were among the first homegrown produce available at the Fayetteville Farmers Market weeks ago. Leeks pack a lot of onion flavor with little bite. Yet even the tender white part of the stalk is fibrous. Whirring up helps. Cooking in red lentils or adding canned white cannellini beans hide plant protein with a minute of an immersion stick blender, add creamy body, too.
Served at room temperature or cooler it’s called vichyssoise, oo-la-la. I spruced up leftovers with kale, simmered then re-pureed. That’s when I beheld a vegan green power smoothie.
I had been mocking smoothies all this time. I did enjoy Tropical Smoothie last year, been meaning to go back.
) ) ) )
While no pickle freak, a jar in the fridge is handy for snacking. Finally finished that jar a while ago. It and the one before that though just weren’t as tasty, and they were from top companies, too.
Puckery cukes are tricky to find in my city’s new Whole Foods Market. What look like them are labeled “fermented cucumbers.” This no doubt is due to renewed interest in the benefits of kraut, kimchi and the like — as opposed to brining in salt or soaking in vinegar. But I sought a regular affordable reliable pickle.
Being acrimonious about acronyms is a worthy goal. Presidents used to be known by abbreviations. Now there are calls for the new president’s term to be abbreviated by impeachment or the 25th Amendment. My suggestion as a longtime editor would be shorten by language.
Now having worked a year in academia, acronyms surround me. That I expected. What’s been surprising is the shock of campus veterans that their abbreviations are not always understood, even at times within the same classroom building. So I find ways to compel the spelling out of these confusing shortcuts. But like cliches, acronyms have their place
One nostalgic spot where initials were great was in headlines about political leaders — FDR, HST, JFK, LBJ. They’re also smooth to say out loud, which is a key to my editing style. Eisenhower had the easy-to-speak “Ike” so never did we read DDE. In Arkansas, WR was the way the copy desk wrote single-column-wide headlines for Gov. Winthrop Rockefeller in the late 1960s. Nixon fit in narrow columns, the “i” being one of the “l-i-f-t” half-count letters. RMN did not glide on the tongue, and Nixon was only a 5-count, Ford 4 1/2.
I guess the style fell out of favor in the Jimmy Carter years, no JEC.
Last year saw the potential for the return of a need for an leader name abbreviation. Hillary Rodham Clinton would’ve been perfect for headlines in any media as HRC to distinguish instantly from the previous President Clinton. HRC fell, though. The Republican nominee won. Yet I cannot and have not said or written Donald J. Trump in the same sentence after the.
I won’t say the proper noun in the same sentence after the word “president.”
DJT though I’ve used. Don’t need “president,” the letter trio signifies the executive position. Besides, djt is best pronounced as “digit” as in finger. As in, “Did you see what DJT (say Digit) tweeted overnight?”
Here’s a funny thing about these B.Y.O.E. events, that is, Bring Your Own Eulogy: So much of the time those anecdotes are maybe a bit more about the speakers than the, er, guest of honor. If you’re in a down mood today — and a memorial generally is NOT a happy hour — you could say that once again here’s another example of the me-me-me 21st century. Yet, how can you tell stories about another person without you as the narrator, you as the re-actor or even you as the “inciting incident”?
Perhaps more than other people, one part of William Mayes Flanagan‘s artistry is how he brought out the life spirit in others. This Happy Hour has begun.
In 1988 I created Bill Flanagan. In 1999 I met Bill.
In 1988 I was in Little Rock, responsible for national and international news at the Arkansas Democrat. On the side, I began a humor column. It was published in a weekly mailed edition of the newspaper. Being a student of the genre, my humor pieces went all over the map — essay, satire and narrative. The last really is a form of “flash fiction,” as in ultra-short made-up stories.
That fall 29 years ago I introduced a character who was middle-aged; opinionated; encouraging and happy; a groundskeeper and a watercolor painter. Indeed!
Now, a few weeks ago, days after Bill passed, I ran into Emily Kaitz in the parking lot of Ozark Natural Foods. I told her this anecdote, that it was not authentically, obviously about our friend Bill Flanagan. Also, this has a clairvoyant, ESP quality to it, and we’re rationalists. But Emily disagreed. She advised that this is the story I need to tell. Because she feels it. She can empathize with the deja-vu-ness of it. Continue reading →
I have my official gun ban request just about ready. Firearms never have had a place at tiddlywinks games, and they still won’t.
Open season throughout colleges — by holders of concealed weapons permits who also have had up to eight hours of active shooter training — has been curtailed with 859 so guns are not allowed in qualifying athletic facilities.
Not so fast, SEC teams. Signs proclaiming “Reynolds Razorback Stadium” or “Bud Walton Arena” are insufficient. Football’s and basketball’s showrunners have to prove they are sporting events to the Arkansas State Police once a year.
As do all the other structures where sports are played. Including Suite 248, otherwise known as r’Asadink Stadium, Home of Arkansas Table Sports.
Legislators listed what should be detailed in the gun ban request to the state police in Section 9. In preparing the list for r’Asadink, I as coach and caretaker found the process to be a squop, known outside tiddlywinks as a slam-dunk.
A copy of the following will be forwarded to the ASP when they’re ready to take applications. [Update below*] My rationale is found at Part 1 of this series “Play Games at Work So No Guns.”
(A) Total projected attendance — Capacity is limited only by how many people can crowd around the 48×24-inch felt mat, allowing room for the players of course.
(B) Number of entrances and exits — 1 of each, in college-level math it’s 1 plus 1 equals 1.
(C) Number of on-site private security personnel — Brought by the visiting team.
(D) Number of on-site law enforcement officers — Another new state law — curtailing the transparency ensured by the FOIA — keeps me from divulging details on campus police. Also, this Act 859 states, “A security plan submitted under this section is exempt from public disclosure under the Freedom of Information Act of 1967.” Am I breaking the new law by sharing my security plan? Uh-oh.
(E) Number of on-site first responders — Red Cross CPR card holders get in free.
(F) Location of parking areas and number of motor vehicles projected to use the parking areas — Fans convey themselves along halls, stairs and elevator. Just like the entire university community, how they get here is their problem.
(G) Routes for emergency vehicles — Squad cars and paddy wagons need parking stickers.
(H) Locations of all restrooms, stairs, and elevators — Down the hall. Down the other hall. Continue reading →