Mother Jones on the Kochs

Three reports from Mother Jones on Charles and David, the brothers Koch:

One: The Koch Brothers’ Million-Dollar Donor Club

Two: Inside the Koch Brothers’ Secret Seminar, with audio excerpts: “If you want to kick in a billion, believe me, we’ll have a special seminar just for you.” [Laughter.]

Three: Chris Christie Lets Loose at Secret Koch Brothers Confab

Here at Orange Crate Art, our purchasing agents are instructed not to purchase Koch products: Angel Soft Toilet Paper, Brawny Towels, Dacron Fiber, Dixie Products, Georgia-Pacific Paper Products, Lycra Fiber, Mardi Gras Products, Quilted Northern Toilet Paper, Soft ’n Gentle Toilet Paper, Sparkle Paper Napkins, Stainmaster Carpet, Vanity Fair Paper Napkins, Zee Paper Napkins. Our Midwestern agents are now also instructed not to purchase from Menards, one of the Kochs’ million-dollar donors. (Here’s a list of Menards-related “conflicts” — a pretty unsavory record, Kochs or no Kochs.)

[Every time I post something Koch-related, my stats show — almost immediately — a visit from Koch Industries. Hello, Koch Industries. Thanks for reading.]

EXchange names on screen

[Gail Patrick, Cary Grant, Randolph Scott, and OXford 6262.]

Seven years after his wife (Irene Dunne) was lost at sea, a man (Cary Grant) remarries (Gail Patrick). His first wife then reappears, having spent those seven years stuck on a deserted island with another man (Randolph Scott). He’s back too. Hilarity ensues. My Favorite Wife (dir. Garson Kanin, 1940) is a brilliant comedy. It’s a film I would like to see in a theater, with the laughter of a crowd.

For anyone who’s read the rumors about Grant and Scott, there are several added comedic elements in the film.

[“It’s for a friend of mine. He’s waiting downstairs.” Yes, that’s what he says. Really.]

More exchange names on screen
The Amazing Dr. Clitterhouse : Baby Face : Born Yesterday : The Dark Corner : Deception : Dream House : The Little Giant : The Man Who Cheated Himself : Murder, My Sweet : Nightmare Alley : The Public Enemy : Side Street : Sweet Smell of Success : This Gun for Hire

“C’est moi!”

Looking at my blog stats, I noticed several visits from a runners’ website, where a discussion thread shifted to the subject of the subjunctive. Wrote one poster, “This guy has a beard, an easy smile and big glasses. He must know what he's talking about.”

That guy is I. Thanks for your confidence, Nader!

Roger Ebert’s fall

Roger Ebert, writing about diminishing mobility and a recent fall out of bed:

For years we live in innocence. We walk around all day and never give it a moment’s thought. For years, every single day in tolerable weather, I woke up around 6:30 and walked for 90 minutes around the Lincoln Park ponds. I wore a pedometer and aimed for 10,000 steps a day. Some days I topped 25,000. I loved it.

Now Chaz asks why I don’t wear my pedometer. Its count would be too depressing.

A fall from grace (Chicago Sun-Times)

“For years we live in innocence”: I had an eye exam last month and remember saying, when my optometrist praised my maculae, “I guess at some point you don’t take these things for granted.”

Roger Ebert is a national treasure. I hope he feels better soon.

From The World of Henry Orient

Marian Gilbert lives in the Sixties on Manhattan’s East Side. She is visiting a friend in Greenwich Village for the first time:

The food was delightful, and not at all the sort of thing we ever had at home. Plates of cold meat, a basket of rye bread, bowls of mayonnaise and butter, lettuce and sliced tomatoes, and a kind of pie made out of cheese and bacon. The Hamblers dranks beer and we had cold milk from a crockery pitcher. We all took some of everything, and as the others piled most of the food on the bread to make sandwiches, I did the same. It was delicious, the sun poured in through the window, and I began to feel as though I had stumbled on a small heaven.

Nora Johnson, The World of Henry Orient (1958)

I’ve loved the 1964 film The World of Henry Orient (dir. George Roy Hill) since kidhood and thought it would be smart to read the novel, which turns out to be just as terrific. Gil narrates, so we see as little of the mysterious pianist Henry Orient as Gil and her friend Valerie Campbell Boyd see. In other words, there is no part for Peter Sellers here: the novel is about children. But it’s for grownups, much darker and sadder than the film (screenplay by Johnson and her father Nunnally Johnson).

The passage above reminds me of my kidhood fascination with delicatessen food, the stuff of all true feasts. Gil’s “a kind of pie made out of cheese and bacon” adds the perfect touch of naiveté. (Or naiftiness, as Lucy van Pelt would say.)

Nora Johnson is still writing, and she has a website.

[How do you spell naiftiness?]

Recently updated

Julia Child and Rachael Ray: Anthony Bourdain’s hilarious commentary on Food Network stars can still be had via the Internet Archive’s Wayback Machine.

Breakfast with the Food Network

[Plunges spoon into bowl. Lifts spoon to mouth. Removes spoon from mouth, chews, grunts.]

I gotta tell ya: it’s all in there. The creamy coldness of the Silk, the crunchiness of the Grape-Nuts, the tangy sweetness of the peaches, the way they all come together: this little puppy is one mega-flavor explosion.

[Chews, swallows.]

But I have an even bigger challenge coming up in just five hours. And they call it LUNCH.

[Plunges, lifts, removes spoon. Chews. Wipes chin. Cut to commercials.]

I recently developed a short-lived comedic habit of turning real-life meals into Food Network moments. I can’t stand the Food Network. But I do like Silk Soymilk, Grape-Nuts, peaches, and yuks.

Labor Day

[“People holding up the tools of their trade during Labor Day celebrations.” Photograph by Al Fenn. September 1956. From the Life Photo Archive.]

The man in the back: a teacher holding a dictionary? I’d like to think so.

I hope that next year’s Labor Day finds us all in better economic times, with at least a little more to celebrate.

A related post
Labor Day 2010 (featuring Dorothy Lucke)

Teachers making house calls

A world away from suburban Arizona, teachers from the South Bronx’s Urban Assembly School for Applied Math and Science make house calls to meet incoming sixth-graders and their families. The short film accompanying this article might make you, too, a bit teary. So much hope, in such difficult times:

Before the First School Bell, Teachers in Bronx Make House Calls (New York Times)

Digital technology in the classroom

Says a PTO co-president, “We have Smart Boards in every classroom but not enough money to buy copy paper, pencils and hand sanitizer.” As class sizes rise and teachers buy their own supplies, an Arizona school district seeks to spend even more on digital technology. Read all about it:

In Classroom of Future, Stagnant Scores (New York Times)

My two cents, from a 2010 post: “There’s nothing more exciting in teaching and learning than unmediated communication in the little village of the classroom.”