QOTD: "Strange as it may sound, the power of mathematics rests on its evasion of all unnecessary thought and on its wonderful saving of mental operations." - Ernst Mach
Reading: Douglas Mawson, The Home of the Blizzard
Listening to: Preston Love's Omaha Bar-B-Q
Decluttering accomplishments: did assorted household paperwork, threw out more old college notes and old magazines
I forgot to mention that I listend to the L.A. Theatre Works tape of "M. Butterfly" while driving to Azusa this week. It's amazing what a difference there is between listening to a play and attempting to read it. I enjoy the theatre immensely, but plays never resonate with me when they're just on paper. I need to order a few more to ease the burden of longer drives.
I had another long drive yesterday. Barbara talked me into going to the Renaissance Pleasure Faire. It had been several years since the last time I went. That had been an interesting experience because it was sort of a blind date. The main thing that stuck in my mind was that the guy I went with spent a lot of effort (and money) trying to win me a stuffed animal. Some of the games have guaranteed prizes, but you have to trade up quite a bit to get to the good ones. He did eventually play long enough to get me a nice little unicorn.
Anyway, we had fun for the most part, but I think the quality of the vendors has declined. I didn't really see any jewelry that was particularly interesting, for example. Barbara looked at clothes a lot and put up with my comments about the lack of authenticity. I'm fairly sure that the colors of dyes that were available in the Elizabethan age were far more limited. My limited reading on the subject suggests that ordinary people pretty much wore off-white or brown - basically, the colors that sheep come in. And I am positive that elastic was invented considerably later. Not that anybody much cares about authenticity in these things, except for a handful of obsessives. Most of the women in costume seem to treat it as an excuse to show off their cleavage. I suspect a lot of uncomfortable sunburns as a result. At any rate, looking at the people who were dressed as members of the court in their heavy velvet, reminds me that I'm grateful to live in the age of Jockey for Her and Royal Robbins and the like. My cleavage shall be on display only to a far more limited audience.
I have to admit that I am quite glad that authenticity is not enforced when it comes to food. I suspect that the turkey legs are the only foodstuff on offer that is not anachronistic. Though "steak on a stake" is more or less plausible too. It may be extraordinarily inauthentic, but I am quite glad to be living in an age where I can get an iced mocha on a hot day.
We watched bits and pieces of a few of the performances. I couldn't persuade Barbara to go to the NC-17 area to listen to bawdy ballads, but she put up with my desire to see Bold and Stupid Men. The best entertainment was the Green Man strolling around - a very impressive costume. I imagine that walking around on those stilts for a long time gets uncomfortable. There was also some entertainment value in general people watching. Whether or not the clothes are all that authentic, they do show off men's legs to advantage.
The heat is the worst part of the whole thing. San Bernadino is pretty much the edge of the desert and it was up in the 80's. Coupled with the general smogginess of the "inland empire," we were fading by about three in the afternoon. Fortunately, the air conditioning in my car is very effective. And the drive back wasn't too bad, although there was the usual slow down around Claremont. Every time I drive out that way, the 10 comes to a standstill around there and there is never any apparent reason for it. I've come to think of it as the "Claremont Crunch." There was some slowing closer to downtown L.A., but it could have been much worse.
I wanted to go out and do a Volksmarch today but didn't feel like another long drive, so opted for the Marina del Rey year round. That's only minutes away and includes winding back and forth along the Venice canals, which is always pleasant. I didn't see the sign that said "This house is not for sale. Eat your heart out." It's possible I just didn't notice it, but I suspect the house was sold. There were lots more ducks than I remembered and it's amusing how the ducks and local cats just ignore one another. The stretch on the boardwalk was less pleasant than it used to be, possibly because it was a bit too cool and a bit too early in the day for there to be many people around. The variety of street vendors has diminished also, with henna tattoos and Chinese massage dominating the scene. I enjoyed getting back to the Silver Strand, though it depressed me to read the "for lease" sign outside one house that quoted a monthly rent that's nearly what I pay for an entire year.
On another subject, I'm rearranging CDs on my shelves, essentially in order to fold in stuff I've bought since the last time I reorganized them. Which led me to realize that I've been alphabetizing some things incorrectly. I had filed "Les Nubians" and "Los Mososos" under "L". But I should really ignore foreign definite articles the same way I ignore "The". This also makes it very hard to decide what to do should I ever acquire an album by "El Vez" since the entire point of his name is that he's the Mexican Elvis. I suspect the real answer is that I should be less obsessive.
Finally, if Haagen Dasz really believes that their new half-pint containers contain two servings, why do they include only one spoon?
Copyright 2002 Miriam H. Nadel