Ads, memes, R.I.P.s
An email I received: “Join the DoorDash Community Today.”
The word “community” is overused.
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The loan officer in charge of our mortgage already sends us Christmas cards and fridge magnets. Recently, he’s begun sending postcards advertising U.S. national parks.
What’s his angle? I asked Karin, who works in banking.
He wants us to take a vacation so we’ll borrow more money from him.
Seriously?
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This has been making the rounds:
The meme varies: 35 years, 30 years.
Masculinity, smoking meats, and WW2 are constants. So is woeful grammar.
But the sociology is sound. As it happens, I’m reading three books about WW2. I also read about that war in December, January, and February; and I expect to do so again next month.
As for smoking meats: the closest thing I do is to boil scraps of leftover KFC, with other ingredients, in the rice cooker.
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I was saddened to read of the death of burger restauranteur “Rusty” Miller, beloved by Quito’s U.S. expatriates. This nice obit gets a detail wrong: it says “Rusty” closed his stores in 1985, but I’m sure I ate in one, just east of La Carolina, in the late ’80s. (I would’ve been very young if it was in ’85.) I knew the mustaches but not the man. I never knew that “Rusty” returned to Ecuador in the 2000s.
R.I.P. Miss Hultberg, school librarian and Minnesotan who loved cows.
R.I.P. Gene Hackman, his wife, and their dog, whose unusual deaths kept fans in suspense for days. Hackman was iconic, all right. Apart from other oldsters like Eastwood, Nicholson, De Niro, and Pacino, there is no comparable living U.S. actor. Cage, perhaps. Cruise is monumental but altogether different from Hackman. (Funny that The Firm, which features both of them, is so ho-hum.) My favorite Hackman performances are in Hoosiers and Night Moves.
The word “community” is overused.
♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦
The loan officer in charge of our mortgage already sends us Christmas cards and fridge magnets. Recently, he’s begun sending postcards advertising U.S. national parks.
What’s his angle? I asked Karin, who works in banking.
He wants us to take a vacation so we’ll borrow more money from him.
Seriously?
♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦
This has been making the rounds:
The meme varies: 35 years, 30 years.
Masculinity, smoking meats, and WW2 are constants. So is woeful grammar.
But the sociology is sound. As it happens, I’m reading three books about WW2. I also read about that war in December, January, and February; and I expect to do so again next month.
As for smoking meats: the closest thing I do is to boil scraps of leftover KFC, with other ingredients, in the rice cooker.
♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦
I was saddened to read of the death of burger restauranteur “Rusty” Miller, beloved by Quito’s U.S. expatriates. This nice obit gets a detail wrong: it says “Rusty” closed his stores in 1985, but I’m sure I ate in one, just east of La Carolina, in the late ’80s. (I would’ve been very young if it was in ’85.) I knew the mustaches but not the man. I never knew that “Rusty” returned to Ecuador in the 2000s.
R.I.P. Miss Hultberg, school librarian and Minnesotan who loved cows.
R.I.P. Gene Hackman, his wife, and their dog, whose unusual deaths kept fans in suspense for days. Hackman was iconic, all right. Apart from other oldsters like Eastwood, Nicholson, De Niro, and Pacino, there is no comparable living U.S. actor. Cage, perhaps. Cruise is monumental but altogether different from Hackman. (Funny that The Firm, which features both of them, is so ho-hum.) My favorite Hackman performances are in Hoosiers and Night Moves.