Tuesday, October 27, 2020

“Nice, heavy notebooks”

Donald Trump*’s surrogate’s recent presentation to Lesley Stahl of a big bound book allegedly containing a healthcare plan reminded me of Walter Galt’s explanation of the notebook system at his high school. It’s the same mentality, really:

Daniel Pinkwater, The Snarkout Boys and the Avocado of Death (1982).

“We” means Walter Galt and his friend Winston Bongo. If you’ve never read Daniel Pinkwater’s books, you’re missing out.

A related post
“Pineapples don’t have sleeves” (A Pinkwater story and a standardized test)

Overheard

“This is a three-quarter-length child.”

Related reading
All OCA “overheard” posts (Pinboard)

[Switching the television back to cable without looking at the screen can make for strangeness. “This” was a painting, on Antiques Roadshow.]

Monday, October 26, 2020

Alvin & Company

Gunther at Lexikaliker shared the sad news that Alvin & Company has closed after seventy years in business. You usually saw Alvin products in the art and drafting aisles of office supply stores, always with unglamorous but distinctive blue and white packaging. The company also distributed a wide variety of products from other manufacturers.

I have Alvin products stashed here and there — eraser shields, pencil extenders, a beautiful cork-backed stainless-steel ruler. I’m especially fond of my two Alvin Draf/Tec-Retrac mechanical pencils, 0.5 and 0.7mm.

As a lifelong resident in the world of “supplies,” I’ll miss Alvin & Company.

Deevie and diskey

It’s 1903. Mary-Jacobine McRory, a young Canadian, is abroad enjoying “the London Season.” From Robertson Davies’s What’s Bred in the Bone (1985), the second volume of The Cornish Trilogy :

The Oxford English Dictionary has an entry for the adjective deevy, with the alternate spellings deevey, deevie, devey, and devy : “‘divine’; delightful, sweet, charming.” The dictionary identifies the word in all its forms as an “affected alteration” of the slang word divvy : “extremely pleasant, ‘divine,’ ‘heavenly.’” The first citation for deevy, or in this case, devey, is from 1900, from Elinor Glyn: “Miss La Touche . . . said my hat was ‘too devey for words.’”

But no diskey in the OED .

Eric Partridge’s A Dictionary of Slang and Unconventional English (1970) glosses deevie/deevy/dev(e)y as a perversion (!) of divvy and gives the meanings “delightful, charming.” Partridge notes 1900–c. 1907 as the time of the word’s vogue.

But no diskey in Partridge.

Green’s Dictionary of Slang has deevie, “wonderful, excellent.” But here, too, no diskey.

You’ve probably already guessed what the adjective diskie must mean. But is it authentic slang, or something Robertson Davies made up? Because he does at times invent. Google Books has the answer. Here’s a small catalogue of slang words from the smart set:

[Sydney Brooks, “The Smart Set in England.” Harper’s Weekly, February 27, 1904.]

I wish the scan were more readable. I will note that nightie, pals, and undies are still with us. And diskie, yes, means “disgusting.” And yes, twe-est is “dearest,” and my twee meant “my dear.” The mnystery here is cassies. Or is it cossies ?

One more source, pairing the words as Davies does:

[Clement Scott, “The Smart Set and the Stage.” The Smart Set, April 1900.]

I don’t know how Davies came by his knowledge of deevie and diskey (maybe by reading The Smart Set ?), but I’d like to think he would admire a reader’s effort to track down both words.

Related reading
All OCA Robertson Davies posts (Pinboard)

Sunday, October 25, 2020

Something Kamala Harris said

I wrote it down as soon as I heard it: “Our democracy is as strong as our willingness to fight for it.” That was Kamala Harris, speaking this afternoon in Troy, Michigan.

Bye, Odwalla

I saw the news that Coca-Cola is discontinuing Odwalla, among other brands.

Did you know that the juice company took its name from the work of the Art Ensemble of Chicago? Odwalla, teacher to “the people of the sun,” is a character in a “myth poem” by Joseph Jarman, recited in the Malachi Favors composition “Illistrum,” on the Art Ensemble album Fanfare for the Warriors (Atlantic, 1973). Wikipedia has the story, with inaccuracies.

More famously, Roscoe Mitchell’s composition “Odwalla” was long the Art Ensemble’s closing theme in performance. Here are four versions, from 1972, 1981, 1991, and 1998. For a good idea of the Art Ensemble in performance, choose 1991. For the best sound, choose the 1998 studio recording (minus Jarman, who had left the group in 1993).

Some AEC posts
The AEC in Boston : The AEC in Cambridge : Joseph Jarman (1937–2019) : Joseph Jarman again : Lester Bowie on Fresh Air

[The Wikipedia inaccuracies have already been pointed out on a Talk page. I have the LP right here as I’m typing, but it hardly qualifies as a Wikipedia source.]

Hi and Lois watch

[Hi and Lois, October 25, 2020. Click for a larger view.]

It’s coincidence, I think. Daily comic strips are created well in advance of publication. But here, as in a recent New Yorker cartoon, a dream of blue leaves.

Related reading
All OCA Hi and Lois posts (Pinboard) : Trying to figure out the New Yorker cartoon

Saturday, October 24, 2020

Mail early in the day, today


I don’t know that it's true everywhere, but if you’re voting by mail, it would be wise to assume it’s true.

And as they used to say, mail early in the day, so that your ballot doesn’t sit in a mailbox till Monday.

The Lincoln Project, whatever the backstory, is doing great work in this election. The Times Square billboards are aptly brutal. And the Kushner–Trump threat to sue has now given those billboards more prominence than they would have had otherwise. There’s a name for that phenomenon: the Streisand effect.

Today’s Saturday Stumper

Today’s Newsday Saturday Stumper is by Greg Johnson. It’s a solid sender.

I looked at the shape of things: twelve-, thirteen-, and fourteen-letter answers across. Uh-oh. I looked at 1-A, twelve letters, “Low-altitude airborne pollutant” and 1-D, five letters, “Silas Marner exclamation.” Uh-oh. But I found a start in 26-A, three letters, “Fabled ready-for-winter creature.” And another: 31-A, three letters, “Pontiac clubber’s pride.” And those two gave me 20-D, six letters, “They have big food bills.” So there’s my secret strategy: look for clues whose answers I can fill in. I ended up where I began, with the first three Across clues. Tough stuff.

Some clue-and-answer pairs I especially liked:

18-A, four letters, “One often stuck in traffic.” TAXI? No.

35-D, five letters, “Hairpin stealing, circa 1885.” Yes, it’s true. The kids yesterday. . . .

62-D, three letters, “Parallel line part.” I always like seeing a junky answer redeemed by its clue.

63-A, thirteen letters, “Got ticketed.” Dang clever.

64-A, twelve letters, “Urban survival skill.” But I’m not sure it’s a skill. More a state of mind, I’d say.

Nits to pick: 13-A, thirteen letters, “It’s stalked in the kitchen.” Not in this kitchen. And the obligatory cryptic clue in this puzzle is just a rAW FULcrum — in other words, too contrived.

My favorite in this puzzle: 15-A, fourteen letters, “Oxymoronic appliance.” Yes, it is oxymoronic. And I used one for years, a gift from my fambly.

No spoilers: the answers are in the comments.

Four panels, “some rocks”

[A first panel. Bliss, October 23, 2020.]

Thanks to George Bodmer, who draws Oscar’s Portrait, for passing on yesterday’s Bliss.

“Some rocks” are an abiding preoccupation of these pages.