Areas of Unrest

22 June 2000 - Hugh Grant's Neckwear and the Mercury 13

QOTD: "It is better to have loved and lost than to have put linoleum on your living rooms." - LeRoi Jones

Reading: Tim Severin, In Search of Moby Dick

Listening to: Loop Guru, Amrita

I've still not positively identified what Hugh Grant was wearing around his neck in those more casual scenes in "Small Time Crooks." One friend suggested "ascot" but I've confirmed that an ascot is wider and usually fastened with a stick pin. She also tried "foulard" but that just seems to refer to the fabric. Mo said she thought it was a cravat. I thought cravat was just a generic term for a tie and a bit of web research seemed to confirm that in the modern sense. The original cravat was wrapped twice around the neck and tied at the back, at least when it was worn by the Croatian soldiers who originated the style. There are a lot of web sites that tell you how to tie a tie, by the way. I didn't find any with useful photos of alternative neckwear styles.

However, I am a master of creative reasoning. After reading several dictionary definitions, including fashion glossaries, I have concluded that I already knew the technical term for the strip of fabric that Hugh has so casually knotted around an open shirt collar. It's called a scarf.

Moving on to more serious matters, there was a fascinating article in this month's newsletter from The Friends of the Observatory (that's the Griffith Observatory, officially the most romantic spot in Los Angeles, despite the time I circled back to it 12 times in the course of trying to find the right way out of Griffith Park one night.). The article discussed the Mercury 13. Everybody knows about the right stuff and the test pilots who were chosen to be the Mercury 7, the original American astronauts. The story of the 13 women who went through the first set of medical tests during that period is far more obscure. The program was stopped when NASA added a requirement that astronauts had to be graduates of test pilot schools. In 1959-1960, that restriction meant only military men could apply. In the testimony before Congress, several officials said the intent was not discriminatory. Perhaps not deliberately so, but the effect certainly was.

The most disturbing part of the story is that one of the people who opposed women becoming astronauts was Jacqueline Cochran, the aviator, even though she had actually paid the travel expenses of the women pilots who made up the Mercury 13. She trotted out the tired old argument that NASA would pay for their training only for them to leave the program to have kids. From now on, when I see an airmail stamp with her picture on it, I will remember that she had the wrong stuff in this case.

In other news, we have a new Bard. Dino came for the first time tonight and I think it's going to work well with her. We've needed a sixth person since Marsha quit. Things work best when we have at least four people at a meeting and it's all too frequent that two of us can't make it. She is new to storytelling, but enthusiastic. Tonight's session went reasonably well, even as we explained how we work to her. For example, I was starting to explain the background of the story I wanted to work on and Barry said, "now, this is the point at which somebody will say, 'just tell the damn story!'"

We also have a strong possibility of a great gig in Malibu. The coordinator of a series there is interested in booking The Biona Bards and has already spoken with Greg twice about it. Not only do they have their own chairs, but they do their own publicity! We have to find out a lot more, but it sounds wonderful.

Finally, the new seating chart came out at work. I have a window office on the other side of the hall, but it's smaller than my current office. It's about what I expected, though. The biggest plus (aside from still having windows) is that I'm about as far as possible from the evil coworker. The biggest minus is that I'm the person in our group who is closest to our principal director's office. When he needs someone to fill in for Milo at staff meeting, he tends to walk down the hall and grab the first person he sees. Similarly, I'm easily in line for random heinous but urgent chores. ("Do a thorough technical evaluation of this 200 page proposal you know nothing about and give the Air Force an answer in 45 minutes and never mind that it is already 4:45 p.m. on Friday and you were on your way home.")

A voice whispers, "keep your door closed!" To which another voice adds, "or just let them know you hear voices and you'll have a great new office with comfy padded walls." And I reply, "they don't have windows in padded cells."