Blogging from the Barnes and Nobles on Nicollet Mall in Minneapolis, Minnesota, enjoying a hot cup of Starbucks Joe.
When I arrived here about 30 minutes ago, there were only three of us here in the cafe. Now there isn’t a single empty chair, and there are many waiting in line. Apparantly it’s the happening place to be this morning.
Over at English Cut, a blog by an English Bespoke Tailor, you can read a fascinating look into the world of a bespoke tailor:
I was Mr. Hallberry’s striker (undercutter), and my future partner, Edwin was striker for Mr Harvey. Although this was comparatively only a few years ago, the company was still very much old school. Ed & I had to address the cutters as ‘Sir’ or ‘Mr.’ ….. The use of first names was far too informal.
It may look as if I’m painting a very austere atmosphere of the company, but although it was quite Dickensian at times, it was a great environment to be part of. Mr. Hallberry was every bit your Swedish expat cutter, silver hair & steel blue eyes. His attitude to the profession was as sharp as his shears, he didn’t suffer fools gladly; neither staff or customer.
On a red hot August day in early 1990, I sneaked out of the side door of Anderson’s to a cafe, no more than 50 yards away, for a sandwich to go. Unknown to me I had been spotted by Mr. Hallberry.
To go out at lunchtime was not a crime, however I had committed a cardinal sin. Not only was I without a jacket, but I was wearing braces (suspenders). For this I was summoned and duly berated for my sloppiness. As Mr. Hallberry said, cutters of A&S do not go out in there shirt sleeves, let alone their underwear.
When I write of my time with A&S it feels as if I worked there in the 50s , not the 90s. But you got used to such a formal atmosphere- no idle conversation, no whistling, no music or anything that could distract.
You remember how unique it was to just hear the clipping of shears into endless privileged clients’ clothes (Royalty, movie stars, that kind of thing) and the soft drone of the overhead fans. We had no air conditioning, and the fans were kept slow or they’d blow the patterns off the boards, if they were turned up to any worthwhile level. Comical really, but who’s complaining, we would’t have dared.
I should take a moment to point out that on Friday, January 14th, I celebrated my third anniversary of blogging.
Not a bad run so far:
Thanks for coming here day after day and reading my babbles!
As always, Victor Davis Hanson, expands my mind and launches a broadside at some of the “conventional wisdom” out there in the world:
The U.S. military is habitually slurred even though it possesses the world’s only lift and sea assets that could substantially aid in the ongoing disasters in Indonesia and Thailand. Blamed for having too high a profile in removing the Taliban and Saddam, it is now abused for having too meek a presence in Southeast Asia. No doubt America should have “preempted” the wave and acted in a more “unilateral” fashion. Meanwhile we await the arrival of the Charles De Gaulle and its massive fleet of life-saving choppers that can ferry ample amounts of Saudi, Chinese, and Cuban materiel to the dying — emissaries all of U.N. and EU multilateralism.
All this hypocrisy has desensitized Americans, left and right, liberal and conservative. We will finish the job in Iraq, nursemaid democratic Afghanistan through its birthpangs, and continue to ensure that bandits and criminal states stay off the world’s streets. But what is new is that the disenchanted American is becoming savvy and developing a long memory — and so we all fear the day is coming when he casts aside the badge, rides the buckboard out of town, and leaves such sanctimonious folk to themselves.
Apparantly, Lex isn’t too happy with Ralph Peter’s Editoral in the New York Post which criticizes the recent history of the United States Navy:
It happened because part of us are always at sea. The Navy helps provide security for all the sea lift which brings real combat power to the land fight, and sustains it once there. We keep the sea lanes of communication secure, while buttressing traditional allies in both South Asia and the Pacific Rim – something the Army would have a hard time doing in any case due to the tyranny of distance, and is far too overstretched to accomplish in today’s environment. And when push comes to shove, we shove back. Hard.
Don’t get me wrong, Mr Peters is right in his larger concerns about the nexus of national interest in Asia, and you’ll never hear a word from me in disparagement of the ground forces – they’re doing the heroes’ work right now.
It’s just worth saying that your US Navy has been patrolling the world’s hard places for a long, long time now. Even while other folks were comfortably ensconced in garrison. Your humble scribe did three interbellum deployments to the bad place, and looked the wolf in the eye each time on multiple missions in Indian Country. And this naval officer is by no means feeling relieved that he finally has a mission at last.
Been busy, Mr. Peters. Busy long time.
Thanks for finally noticing.
There’s more – go read it.
I was having a rather shitty evening yesterday for a variety of reasons – and then I went back and read this recent post by Dooce about pooping at work:
Internet, I was a work pooper. Now that I work from home I am still a work pooper, but that doesn’t really count. I once dated a guy who refused to go poop in a public place including work, and if he had to go poop he’d take a fifteen minute break, drive home, poop, and then drive back to work. That relationship didn’t last very long for several reasons, one of them being his poop policy (if he felt that way about pooping, he’d never get used to my farting), and another reason being that he always, and I mean ALWAYS, asked if I had come yet within the first 20 seconds of initiating sex. I understand the meaning of “hurry it along,” but show me a woman who can come in less than 20 seconds and I’ll show you a liar.
If you are a woman and you can come in less than 20 seconds PLEASE SHARE WITH THE WORLD YOUR SECRET, YOU BITCH.
I always found it funny as well when I would enter the bathroom at work and someone would STOP PEEING in the middle of their pee session, as if I hadn’t ever heard the sound of pee hitting porcelain in my life and would be offended by the sound of it IN A BATHROOM. Are coworkers arrogant enough to think that we don’t know they pee and poop? JESUS TOOK SHITS, PEOPLE. And, I know this will be hard to believe, but so does Oprah.
Nothing like some poop conversation to cheer one up…
I note that the domain moonbatnews.com is available.
Anyone interested in helping with a group blog to showcase nothing but their own comments, news, and photographs?
Could be alot of fun. Leave a comment if you’re interested.