Challenging Word of the WeeK: objurgate

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Objurgate
(OB jur gate) verb

To objurgate is to denounce harshly, to upbraid vigorously, to berate sharply, to reproach in no uncertain terms, to give ’em hell. Objurgate is from Latin objurgatus, past participle of objurgare (to scold, chide, reprove), based on prefix ob– (against) plus jurgare (to rebuke), based in turn on jur-, stem of jus (law, right) plus agere (to drive). Objurgation (ob jur GAY shun) is the noun, and a geat deal of it is heard at the United Nations (which is given as an example of oxymoron in another part of this book).

My example: I was going to go into how the Harry Reid, et al, think objurgate and obfuscate are the same thing. Then I realized that more expressive examples of admirable objurgation can be found over at my friend Andy’s blog.

From the book, “1000 Most Challenging Words” by Norman W. Schur, ©1987 by the Ballantine Reference Library, Random House. I post a weekly “Challenging Words” definition to call more attention to this delightful book and to promote interesting word usage in the blogosphere. I challenge other bloggers to work the current word into a post sometime in the coming week. If you manage to do so, please leave a comment or a link to where I can find it. Previous words in this series can be found under the appropriate Category heading in the right-hand sidebar.

Friday Fundamentals in Film: Update

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I’m trying to get up to speed again on this weekly film series after my trip. I had ordered a couple of movies from Netflix based on recommendations from some of you and I watched these but they weren’t right for the series. They were a couple of WWII movies, The Longest Day and A Bridge Too Far.



This series is about finding examples of strong character and to demonstrate character. War movies, with their crucibles of courage, sacrifice and heroism, can be a rich source of material (as well as providing examples of less than admirable behavior as well). These two movies are acknowledged as classics but they left me flat. It took me a little while to put my finger on it, but watching them close together helped. Both take the “grand spectacle” approach to filming a war movie with casts of thousands and dozens of big stars. Additionally, both take an almost reverent view of these historical moments. This is justified, but in these movies “reverent” means “slow.” Both drag on ponderously (especially the aptly named Longest Day) while the big name stars make their brief cameo appearances. There’s very little chance to examine a particular character, or small group of characters, or identify with them.



In contrast, a war movie such as Saving Private Ryan or Glory brings you up close to the men. For my purposes, this is essential because you have to see and relate to them being tested, not only by outside forces but from within. War movie or otherwise, this will be a key factor I’ll look for when considering including a film that’s new to me.



You might recall that we currently have a “second front” (to stretch the war analogy) going on with this series. A couple of months ago I started going through these movies again with a new group of boys, this time accompanied by their fathers. Initially the boys were kind of silly when it came to the discussion part after the first movie (High Noon) , but they started to get into the rhythm and purpose of it as we went through Zulu and The Tin Star.



In fact, we watched the latter right before I left on our trip and we had a very good discussion on motives, behavior, the nature of a bully, and how to use your brain before you use a gun. One of the questions I always ask with this movie is, “Who do you think the best man in the movie was?” We went around the room with boys and their dads saying either “Ben” or “Morg”; to my delight, however, one of the dads said, “Dr. Joe.” This was what I was looking for because the elderly doctor displays a lot of good qualities that can easily be overlooked in a movie like this because he’s “old” or doesn’t carry a gun. It was a good class.



After the trip hiatus though we had a “technical difficulty” and the boys also seemed to revert a bit to the silliness of our first get-together. The technical difficulty was in getting a copy of the movie I wanted to watch, the Gary Cooper classic, “Sergeant York.” This film is not available on DVD yet, and the Hollywood and Blockbuster stores near me (where I had originally rented this a few years ago) no longer carried it in their stock. I may have to buy a VHS copy from Amazon, but on short notice I pulled my copy of John Wayne’s The Quiet Man from my shelf and went with that. It’s a good story with a great fight scene at the end, but it’s also “mushy” and mainly a love story (including Director John Ford’s love of Ireland) so I may have lost the lads a bit. It was harder to keep them on focus during the discussion, but they were all interested in hearing what the next movie will be. I’ll either get a copy of Sergeant York or go with Glory.



There might also be a chance to move this class in a third direction. Our church has been approached about hosting a Boy Scout “lock-in” this summer, and it’s been suggested that I put on one or two of these movies during that. We’ll see how it goes. At any rate, next week I’ll be back in this space either with a new film in the series or a report from the next group gathering.

Tiger Lilly’s travelogue

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Hello, Tiger Lilly here. I know, I know, it’s a big surprise since I’ve been gone a long time from the blogging world, but it really is me. Here are the things I wrote in my journal during our recent trip to England, Italy, Scotland and Ireland. But first…

When we were in Inverness, we went on a ghost tour. This guy who was supposedly a “ghost” took us all around the town center and told ghost stories. His name was Davy. Here’s one that you might enjoy that’s not really a ghost story, but is instead about the Loch Ness monster:

You know about St. Columba right? Well one time he was sent to deliver a message to some person on the other side of a river somewhere in Scotland. (This story is full of details, isn’t it? That would be because I don’t remember them all.) So he went to the river, but there was no boat or bridge. He was just about to swim across it when a village boy came running up and said to him, “If you go swimming in that river, a big nasty beast is gonna come up ‘n eat you.” So St. Columba, being the strong, brave man that he was, summoned a man to go cross the river for him, just to make sure it was safe. But sure enough, when the man got to the middle of the river, a “big, nasty beast” came up and opened its mouth. But just when it was about to eat the man, Columba drew his sword and said, “Go away, you nasty beast,” in a kind of pompous voice. So the beast ran off to Loch Ness, and that’s where Nessie came from.

Now here’s my journal that I’ve been keeping:

Tuesday, May 23, 2006. Italy.
I bought a notebook in a little souvenir shop in Vernazza, Italy, one of the 5 cities of the Cinque Terre. There were thousands of cats roaming around that city.

I found a teeny-weeny conch shell and a bunch of cool rocks on the beach in Vernazza. We have eaten an ice cream like substance every day that we’ve been in Italy. It’s called Gelato. “Gelato, Poppi!” It’s sooo good.

I had a drink in Vernazza called an Italian soda. It was super minty, and so sweet it gave me a headache.

We have been going through Cinque Terre today. It’s really pretty. We only have one more day left in Italy (today) before we go back to England and then to Scotland.

We were staying in a villa near Dicomano that was pretty nice except for the scorpions. Eeeek!!! But now we’re staying in a Bed & Breakfast in Sarzana. The view at the villa is better than the view at the Bed & Breakfast, but I like the house better than the villa, even though I don’t get my own room like I did in the villa. Instead I have to sleep in the same room as the Mall Diva. Horrors!

When we were at the villa, there was a swimming pool that I went swimming in once. I only swam once because I forgot to put on sunscreen on one part of my back, and I got second degree burns. Owee!

Wednesday, May 24, 2006. Italy-London.
Today we are flying out of Italy. 🙁 I wish we didn’t have to go. I love Italy.

Later…
We are driving through England in a Volkswagen. It’s pouring rain. It’s taking sooo long to find our hotel. Dad is in a bad mood. Yes, Marty Andrade, he can be evil sometimes.

Saturday, May 27, 2006.
Scotland is beautiful!

I’m torn between 3 places I want to live in. 1. Minnesota. 2. Italy. 3. Scotland. They’re all so nice!

Later…
I’m sitting in the B&B room. The beds are rather hard. And Mall Diva is about to receive the “Booger Wiener of the Year” award. Her booger wiener-ness is so booger wienerful that I’m not even going to tell you what she’s doing for fear that you would run screaming into the night never to be seen again once you read what she – never mind.

Sunday, May 28, 2006. Scotland.
We went to Loch Ness today, but Nessie was nowhere in sight. Maybe she tried to eat someone and they brandished a sword at her and yelled, “Go away, you nasty beast!” so she fled to Loch Lomond…

I got a pale blue shirt that says Scotland on it. It’s really cute.

Monday, May 29, 2006. Scotland.
We went to Stirling Castle. There were 2 guys on the grounds inside the castle in medeival outfits. One guy was dulling some swords while the other guy was talking to people and answering questions. After a bit a crowd had formed and the guys walked to the middle of the yard.

“All right,” the first guy said. “Welcome, everyone. My name is Elvis Presley, and this is John Lennon.”

“Peace,” ‘John Lennon’ said.

‘Elvis’ started talking about the history of Stirling castle until he finally said, “Ok, I need a volunteer.” So I volunteered. I went under the rope that was surrounding them and walked up to them. Elvis asked me what my name was. I told him, and he said, “Well, Patience, you are about to become a knight of Scotland.” And with that he and John (who, by the way, is reeeally cute) proceeded to put a mail shirt on me. It was pretty heavy.

Then Elvis said, “Patience, you are not only going to be a knight of Scotland, you are going to be THE knight of Scotland. King Robert the Bruce, actually.” I could feel the flush creeping up my face. He then put a chain mail headpiece and a yellow-with-red-lion sash thing on me. Then he put a helmet on me. I could hardly see out of it! Then Elvis said, “Robert was highly skilled with a battle axe.” Then he gave John a huge shield and told me to watch how John blocks the battle axe. Then he started whacking the shield with a battle axe.

“Most importantly, remember to block your head and don’t move your feet,” he said. He gave me the shield. “Try and block us as we come at you. Oh and we will be using swords.”

“O.k., I’m sorry I volunteered for this already!” I said, but I don’t think they heard me. (By now my face was really, really red but you couldn’t see it because it was inside the helmet.) Elvis and John each picked up a sword. I held the shield with both hands. Then they yelled and deliberately missed me as I raised the shield. And I didn’t move my feet! They both congratulated me and helped me take the armor off. I went back to where mom and dad were standing. (My face was flaming.)

John and Elvis did a swordfight. “No back stabbing,” said John. “And no fancy moves,” said Elvis. Elvis won. He and John locked swords, and Elvis kicked John. John fell to the ground and said, “I said no back stabbing!” “Yeah, but you didn’t say anything about kicks.” I like John.

Tuesday, May 30, 2006. Scotland.
I am so sick of driving! Drive, drive, drive! That’s all we do. But at least we don’t have to walk.

Later…

We’ve been in England for about 6 hours now. We had Chinese for dinner. It was so good. Very authentic, like the food I had in China last summer.

Thursday, June 1, 2006. Ireland.
At the B+B that we’re staying at are chicks and kittens! The kittens are so cute, but all they do when I walk up to them is hiss. The dogs at the B+B are always trying to get at them, so when they sniff at the door and try to get into the barn where the kittens are, the mom cat comes and bats at their noses from the other side.

I was able to hold one of the chicks. They are sooo soft and fuzzy and cute. They kind of cheep instead doing the bwuk-bwuk-bwuk thing.

Later…

We went to the beach. It was really fun. I saw a crab that was probably 3 inches long.

Friday, June 2, 2006. Quilty, Ireland.
We went to the beach again today. I was wearing my swimsuit and I went into the freezing cold Atlantic water waist high. The waves actually pushed me a couple of inches. It was really fun.

Later…

We went to a pub tonight. Mall Diva and I played pool with the bartender (whose name was Henry). I lost, Diva won. TTHHPPTT!

Sunday, June 4, 2006.
We’re goin’ home!!!!!

Remember, honesty means never having to say, “Please don’t flush me down the toilet!”

Ciao for now,

Tiger Lilly

Psycho cat sentenced to house arrest

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A housecat has been sentenced to house arrest following a reign of terror that included attacking the local Avon lady (must have been the Skin-So-Soft). The judge’s options included euthanasia (for the cat, not the Avon lady), exile or being kept indoors, with repercussions for both the cat and its owner if the terms are violated.

“There are no exceptions. None,” said Judge Patrick Carroll, who also granted accelerated rehabilitation to Lewis’ owner, Ruth Cisero. That means her record will be expunged if she successfully completes two years of probation.

Cisero had faced a charge of reckless endangerment because neighbors complained that the cat’s long claws and stealth have allowed it to attack at least a half-dozen people and ambush the Avon lady as she was getting out of her car.

Cisero had fought to keep Lewis alive and in Connecticut. She rejected a previous offer of accelerated rehabilitation if she agreed to euthanize Lewis.

Carroll said Lewis cannot leave the house, even if he gets out accidentally. He said the case is not about a cat, but about people having the right to live in safety in their neighborhoods.

The case drew national attention. Lewis has appeared in People magazine and his own page on the social networking site MySpace.com.

It all sounds a bit like our own cat, which has been known to show an antisocial side. Once he even sunk four teeth into the young Mall Diva’s cheek and then got to explore his aerodynamic capabilities as I “cat”-a-pulted him out of the kitchen door. Fortunately for him, the door was open at the time, though I don’t think that was something I consciously took into account.

Another time when the girls were young he thought it would be amusing to lurk under a chair by the hallway to the bedrooms and then run out and slash at ankles. First the youngest toddled down the hall to bed: pounce/slash/tears. A bit later the eldest daughter went the same direction. Same result. Later still my wife made her way down the hall: pounce/slash/”you stupid cat!”

I couldn’t believe his tenacity and attention span. When it came time for me to retire I started down the corridor of death, with my ears open. When I heard the telltale rush of little feet I turned quickly, crouched, spread my arms and shouted, “WHAT?!”

I swear, it was like a cartoon as the cat slammed on the front brakes while the rest of his body accordioned into his displaceable collarbones. Then he tried to act all innocent while taking a keen interest in a piece of fuzz on the rug. Yeah, right. I knew he had blood on his claws.

Anyway, I wish the woman with the sociopathic cat a lot of luck in keeping him indoors. We keep our cat (cats, when we had two of them) indoors and he/they were always trying to convince strangers that came to the house that they were, indeed, outdoor cats, and if the visitor would just kindly step out of the way, they had a pressing engagement. They once successfully conned the Schwann’s man in this way, but the joke was on them.

That afternoon the temperature was about -20 F windchill. Not only that, but we didn’t realize that they were outside. It was not until about two hours later when we realized we hadn’t seen the guys for awhile, and when I thought I heard something a bit higher-pitched than the winter wind outside the front door. I opened up and there were two cat-sicles most definitely interested in coming in, though they moved a bit like the Tin Woodsman without his 40-weight. After they’d had a couple of minutes to warm up, one of the cats hauled off and took a whack at the other one, as if to say, “I told you that was a stupid idea!”

One of the cats has since gone to the Big Sleep (but not for capital punishment purposes) but the remaining one still tries to make his escape whenever possible, though I think it’s more like a game. The last time he got out I happened to look outside and saw him standing at the end of the sidewalk to our driveway. I matter-of-factly opened the front door and said, “Get your butt in here.” To my utter amazement, that’s exactly what he did, trotting in right past my feet like an obedient beagle.

It’s not clear from the story whether or not the cat in the headline will be euthanized if he gets out, but one option is moving him to an animal home out in Nevada where the nearest neighbor is four miles away. That neighbor, however, is a guy after my own heart.

… Victor Sandonato said he has already been warned that Lewis might be moving to his neighborhood.

“I live with a cat just like Lewis, and I live with danger every time I go home at night,” he said, adding, “I’m from South Jersey, so I don’t take any crap from a cat.”

Watch out for sharks and lip-sticked pigs

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Just when you think it’s safe to tune in to the ballpark, there’s blood in the water. I’ve been encouraged by the young, re-made Twins squad and their recent streak of competency and even excellence. Watching the extra-inning victory over the Astros Tuesday was the most fun I’d had watching a Twins game in I don’t know how long. But you might as well have cued the throbbing cellos and shark’s-eye POV as the door to the bullpen opened last night (dunh dunh dunh dunh dunh dunh duh) and out stepped Kyle Lohse, with the same look on his face as if he were being asked to test out the new shark cage. “Fare well and adieu, you fine Spanish ladies…”

Or as Goober, pinch-hitting for Batgirl, wrote…

And that was that. The game was over, of course, from the second Kyle walked onto the field. The sucking followed him like a giant cloud; you could barely see him through the plumes of sucking. Viewers throughout the five state area were slapping the sides of their TVs trying to clear up the sucking on their sets. And the problem is especially bad in Houston — a town that knows how to work with sucking. They know that if you paint lipstick on a pig, there are some who might say, “that’s a dang attractive pig. Turns out I enjoy seeing lipstick on a pig. Indeed, I might like to put the innovators who lipsticked that pig up on the front page of my magazine. And perhaps those very same innovators might like to contribute to my opera hall and planetarium.”

Great Houston/Enron tie-in there, Goober, though in fairness to Lohse, he hasn’t stolen nearly as much money from the Twins as Kenneth Lay, et al, took from their former employees and stockholders. That is, however, the last bit of grace I’m going to extend to Kyle Lohse. I’ve had my fingers crossed for so long regarding him that they’re numb and gangrenous. The Twins are going to have to put a lot of lipstick on Lohse now to find someone who will take him off their hands.

“H” stands for heart; something he’s distinctly lacking. Drop that letter from Kyle’s last name and what does it spell?

Lose.

Massachusetts senator offended by Fluffernutter

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When I saw this story I naturally thought of one Massachusetts senator in particular who perhaps thought the Fluffernutter reference was aimed at him (and you’d have to have really bad aim to miss him).

Actually, it turns out it is a dispute in the state legislature as one state senator has proposed a bill limiting how often the popular Fluffernutter (Fluff marshmallow creme and peanut butter) sandwiches can be featured in public school lunches. Strong feelings abound, as another senator has countered with a proposal to make the Fluffernutter the official sandwich of the commonwealth.

Fluffernutter. Made of marshmallow creme and peanut butter. Maybe they are talking about Teddy after all. Senator Fluffernutter: I like the sound of that.

The Most Wonderful Time of the Year

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Yep, it’s that time of year again. The time of year where we start thinking about and planning for one of the most important events that mark a revolutionary change in the history of America; nay,nay, the world!

“Independence Day,” you say?

No! My birthday! What do you think? Gosh!

Yes, that famous date, 8/18/88.

Do you know what that means?

GOLDEN BIRTHDAY!

And since I want this day formally acknowledged, I decided to buy myself an early birthday present. Ahhh, the benefits of working in formal dress store. Here it is!

WE INTERRUPT THIS PROGRAM FOR SOME BREAKING NEWS:
THE MALL DIVA HAD WEETABIX FOR BREAKFAST THIS MORNING. YES, THANKS TO TOM, WHO SUPPLIED IMPORTANT INFORMATION ON THE WHEREABOUTS OF THIS CEREAL, WHICH CAN INDEED BE FOUND AT TARGET.

Now back to your original programming.

What? I’m not going to show you, it would ruin the surprise! Stay tuned for the big reveal that will take place in 58 days, or 8 weeks and 2 days if you prefer.

(And no, that bag does not contain a body – dead or otherwise.)

Long waits for pizza satisfaction

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Here’s another short post, but what do you expect? Today is the longest DAY of the year. I am the NIGHT writer. I have very little time today, and just venturing this post now is already hurting my eyes.

Anyway, Peter Welle has a story about finally redeeming his Papa Murphy’s punchcard for a free pizza (“perhaps the greatest single delight known to man”). He’d only been working on that card since 2001.

Personally, I’m just one more lunch buffet visit to Old Chicago short of my own free ‘za fest (so close I can almost taste it, you might say) … but I’ve held that status for about seven months now, ever since my pizza-partner and liberal foil, the Beast From the East, moved to Texas (when I heard Dick Cheney had shot someone while he was in Texas, I initially thought it had to have been the Beast). I hate to buffet by myself because I need a “sponsor” to keep me from going overboard.

Anyway, Peter’s long wait and my own deferred gratification both pale in comparison to the 25+ year interval between the times I could enjoy my all-time favorite pizza. That would be a Noble Roman’s Sicilian Deep Dish pizza, which was a staple of my teen years when I lived in Indianapolis. Zesty, cheesy, perfect in every way except that Noble Roman’s is a chain with very few links. A few years ago, however, I was back in Indy on business and I was delighted to see a Noble Roman’s near where I was staying.

With excitement and some trepidation (how might things have changed in the long interval?) I called in an order and went to pick it up. Oh, the smells as I walked into the place! Barely able to contain myself, I quivered in anticipation as the sweet young thing behind the counter fetched my distinctive box and brought it to me with a big smile.

“Ah,” I said, “I can’t wait. I haven’t had one of these Sicilian Deep Dish pizzas in 25 years!”

“Really?” she said (or, more accurately, “Ree-allly?”) “Where have you been?”

I was suddenly possessed by deviltry. Without pausing a beat I just looked at her and matter-of-factly said, “Prison.”

Omigaw, I thought her retainer was going to fall out as her jaw and eyebrows went in opposite directions. Boy, did I get my change back really fast! Which was okay, because it allowed me to get the reunion started that much quicker.

It was every bit as good as I remembered, too!

Ship-shape in Duluth

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One of my favorite sites to browse around in is the Duluth Shipping News. I stop in from time to time to see what ships are in port and to enjoy the photos and often off-beat reporting on events in and around the Duluth harbor, as offered by Ken Newhams.

Newhams is an excellent photographer who has given his digital camera quite a workout over the past few years. Browsing his photos, such as the one below, is the next best thing to making a run up to the North Shore (except I don’t get to stop at Tobie’s for cinnamon rolls). Besides the current events you can view his photo archives (many images are for sale) and special slide shows going back to 1997 and even listen to a sound-file of the Duluth foghorn or the sound of an ice-breaker breaking ice in the harbor.


Photo by Ken Newhams, Duluth Shipping News

When I visited today, however, I noticed Ken’s account of his recent surgery for prostate cancer. I’m happy to report that he appears to be doing well and is in good spirits and back to posting after a short hiatus. Take an electronic trip to Duluth and check this site out; but keep an eye out for the seagulls!

So you want to be a sitcom star

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“Hey, Da-ad, you got tagged!” quoth the Mall Diva last night from her perch in front of the computer.

I didn’t remember being hit with a tranquilizer dart, and I wasn’t wearing a radio collar, so I deduced she meant I’d been memed. “Who got me?” I asked, as my mind pondered the list of usual suspects (was it Keyser Soze?) and what revealing information I’d have to cough up.

“Yucky Salad with Bones.”

Oh! One of our faves. “Katie? Katie even knows I exist?”

“Apparently. What sitcom character do you wish you were?”

What in the name of Charles-Burrows-Charles? With the Mall Diva around, my life is more like a reality show. Hmmm, this was going to call for a trip in the Way-Back Machine, since I don’t know any of the current batch of sitcoms, and “recent” to me means Friends, which I never saw an entire episode of from start to finish, and Seinfeld which I only saw a handful of shows. Not much to go on there, so go back to the Golden Age of pre-cable television; back to Barney Miller, Cheers, Wings, M*A*S*H, Taxi and All in the Family.

Cliff or Normie? No, too close to real life.

Mork? Nanu, nanu, but no. With the red suit someone might think I was an out-of-season St. Paul Vulcan and arrest me. Also, way too much energy expenditure.

Basil Fawlty? Ah, good one — but nothing ever turned out well for him.

How about Rob Petrie: he’s a writer and has a really hot wife. Nah, that’s too close to real life as well. Same for Cliff Huxtable, and I’ve got that wise dad thing all covered, too.

Oh, I know: Thomas Magnum! He got to drive a Ferrari that someone else paid the insurance on, lived in Hawaii and had buns of steel (as opposed to my buns of double-ought lead buckshot) and was the only person in the world who didn’t look ridiculous in a Hawaiian shirt. Wait; not a sitcom.

I’ve got it! I want to be Bob Newhart!

It doesn’t matter which of his shows, since he was always Bob Newhart. I just love that guy’s sense of humor and deadpan, it’s-what-is-not-said-that’s-so-funny delivery. He was also always kind of like a cork that stayed on top of the waves no matter what, and he was at the center of my all-time, laugh-until-you-cry-and-fall-off-the-couch-out-of-breath funniest scene that I ever saw on television. That came at the end of the last episode of Newhart (the series where Bob owned a New England inn) where Bob goes to bed with his “wife” Mary Frann and wakes up in bed on the set of the old Bob Newhart Show with Suzanne Pleshette: the whole Newhart series was just a dream! Absolutely inspired!

Plus, Bob was always just an average-looking guy with a hot wife. I’m not giving that up!

The rules of the meme are that I get to tag three others, so I tag Surly Dave (and Iron Chef is not a sitcom), Cathy in the Wright, and Jeff at Peace Like a River (and no, you can’t be Jack Bauer because that show isn’t a sitcom, it’s science fiction).

Update:

Jeff offers his answer in the comments below.

Surly Dave wishes he were an illegal alien here.

Update:

Cathy in the Wright has completed her assignment. I almost said finally completed her assignment, but then her nose started to twitch so I backed off.