The universe: spatially and temporally.

In The Restaurant at the End of the Universe, the second volume of Douglas Adams's Hitchhiker series, Zaphod Beeblebrox, as punishment for his theft of the Heart of Gold spaceship, is put into the Total Perspective Vortex, supposedly the most fiendish torture device ever made:

When you are put into the Vortex you are given just one momentary glimpse of the entire unimaginable infinity of creation, and somewhere in it a tiny little mark, a microscopic dot on a microscopic dot, which says, "You are here."

Zaphod is able to survive the Vortex with his sanity intact because his ego is robust enough to conclude that the "You are here" marker means that he is the most important thing in the universe, the whole vastness of which was made specially for him.

The American Museum of Natural History has produced a video that, while not having the intended impact of the Vortex, nevertheless gives a sense of the immensity of the known universe (double click twice on the video to bring it to full screen size for maximal effect):


As the text on the video notes, our view of the known universe has a temporal as well as a spatial dimension. Because light travels at a finite speed, light from distant objects reaches us some time after it originated. When we look at Alpha Centauri, the nearest star, we are seeing it as it was about four and a half years ago. As we've developed more powerful telescopes, we've expanded our temporal as well as our spatial horizon, looking farther and farther back in time. Below is an image taken by the Hubble Space Telescope, in which the circled objects are the most distant galaxies yet detected.

As detailed in this NASA web page, the faint galaxies in this image are about 13 billion light years away, which means we are seeing them as they were six to eight hundred million years after the Big Bang.

Thanks to Geoff Abrams for forwarding the AMNH video.

Let the Art Institute of Chicago help you with your resolutions.

I'm not one for resolutions. As my wife sometimes says (usually as I'm pouring my ill-advised second helping of Cognac): "You have the willpower of a gnat." Nevertheless, I'm glad to see as distinguished an organization as the Art Institute coming to the aid of those who wish to start the new year, indeed decade, off in good form. As a guide to what should be resolved against (or, according to one of my Facebook friends, in favor of), the Institute has mounted an exhibit of paintings and sculptures illustrating the Seven Deadly Sins, beginning with Lust (see Titian's Danaë--possibly the first-ever recipient of a golden shower--above). For those of you not willing to brave a trip to Chicago in the winter (my friend Marian Saska can give you the chilling details of the winter of 1979 there), the guide to the complete exhibit, with images of the art works, can be seen on-line here.

New year's shout-outs.

Brooklyn Bridge pedestrian and bike path, January 1, 2010

I've made it my practice, on New Year's Day, to thank my readers, and to recognize those who have given this blog help and support during the previous year. As always, my biggest source of new readers has been Brooklyn Heights Blog, now part of the Brooklyn Bugle empire. So, once again, my hat's off to Homer Fink and the rest of my BHB colleagues. Other blogs that have been helpful sources of traffic are Age of Reason, artandsoul, Bed-Stuy Blog, Growing Tomatoes from Seed, Instaputz, Forgotten NY, Fucked in Park Slope, Luna Park Gazette, newyorkshitty, Notes from a Transitional Fossil, Nurse Ratched's Place, Only the Blog Knows Brooklyn, Rumproast, This Page Intentionally Left Blank, and tugster: a waterblog, so thanks, respectively, to Thomas Paine; Cindy Jacobs; The Changeling; Switters; ts; Kevin Walsh; Erica; Rob Lenihan; Miss Heather; Archaeopteryx; Mother Jones, RN; Louise Crawford; Kevin K; Twif; and Will Van Dorp. Other loyal readers and commenters include Tom and Polly Beason, Brooklyn Beat, Ted Burke, catnapping, Melanie Hope Greenberg, Susan Houx, Isonomist, Keifus, The Lone Beader, Joe Louzonis, Joe Martini, Maria McGarry, Marian Saska, Schadenfreude, Michael Simmons, Sometimes Saintly Nick, Mike and Bonnie Starling, Lisa Swan, and Allan and Marcia Tremmel. If I've overlooked you, please let me know and I will add you to the roll.

This year I'm giving a special "thank you" to Daniel Machalaba for spotting my post about the Amtrak Adirondack and quoting me in his Wall Street Journal article about baby boomers discovering rail travel, and to WSJ multimedia producer Beckey Bright for making the video that accompanies the on-line version of Dan's article.

"Amtrak Adirondack" (or variants thereof) continues to be one of the most popular web searches to lead to hits on my blog, along with Eisenhower Lock. This year, Fred Exley has also drawn many visits. Probably the biggest attraction in 2009, however, was my post about the Pierre Bonnard exhibit at the Met. A tip of the hat goes to Mark Crawford for sparking my interest in Bonnard. Another popular destination has been my post on jazz and the visual arts, which was inspired by Mike Sorgatz.

Sadly, 2009 saw the deaths of many people whom I knew or simply admired (these are listed in rough chronological order): Andrew Wyeth, Darlene Bailey, Stephen Bruton, Koko Taylor, Paul Hemphill, Walter Cronkite, Frank McCourt, Ted Kennedy, Bruce Wasserstein, and Liam Clancy. Farewell.

To all of you: my fondest wishes for a happy and prosperous new year.

The view on the last morning of 2009.

Here's the view from my window this morning, looking across Pierrepont Place toward Pierrepont Playground and Columbia Heights beyond.

The playground occupies the site on which formerly stood the Henry Pierrepont mansion, the rear of which is seen in the center of the turn-of-the 19th to 20th century photo at left. (The photo comes from this Brooklyn Heights Blog post.) The Pierrepont mansion was designed by Frederick A. Peterson, a German-born architect perhaps best known for the Cooper Union building in Manhattan. The mansion was demolished in 1946.

The building the edge of which is seen at the left of my photo at top, the rear of which can be seen toward the right in the old photo, is the Abiel Abbott Low mansion, designed by Richard Upjohn and completed in 1857. To its south (part of the rear visible at the right of the old photo) is its near mirror-image twin, also by Upjohn, the Alexander M. White mansion. Low and White were prominent merchants, Low in the China trade and White in furs. Low was the father of Seth Low who, at various times, served as Mayor of the City of Brooklyn, President of Columbia University, and Mayor of New York City.

"Once in Royal David's City"

My favorite carol, performed by the choir of King's College, Cambridge, as shown on the BBC "Carols from King's" series. Thanks to edders05 for the clip.

Your correspondent rides the Adirondack with Beckey Bright of the Wall Street Journal.

About six weeks ago I received a call from Daniel Machalaba, a freelance writer who sometimes writes on railway related topics. Dan said he was working on an article for the Wall Street Journal about retired baby boomers discovering or re-discovering rail travel. He had read my blog post about riding the Adirondack, which, he said, might be an ideal "starter train" for someone wanting to sample rail travel because its route is very scenic but also short compared to Amtrak's or VIA Canada's transcontinental routes. We talked for a while about my history as a railfan, having spent time in my childhood watching action on the four-track main of the Pennsylvania Railroad at my mother's hometown, Tyrone, Pennsylvania, and about my experiences riding the Adirondack from Penn Station up to Plattsburgh, New York and back on trips to visit my in-laws in Massena. He asked me about things that could be seen from the train, the quality of the service, and timeliness. Finally, he said he had what he thought was some good material for his article.

I heard from Dan again a couple of weeks ago. He said his article would be in the December 19 issue of the Journal, then, to my delight, added that his editor thought it would be good to have me interviewed while riding the Adirondack as far as Poughkeepsie, and to have the interview as a video to accompany Dan's article. So it was that, last Tuesday, I stood under the arrivals/departures board at Penn Station and was greeted there by Beckey Bright, who proved, in appearance and personality, perfectly to embody her name. Beckey did a superb job of editing the ensuing rambling discourse to include only those parts in which I managed to sound the least foolish. I have two regrets: first, that the views of the scenery are less than inspiring because of the weather, and second, that my voice couldn't be edited so as to make me sound a little less like Ben Stein.

You can read Dan's article here.

Liam Clancy, last of the Clancy Brothers.

Though we were both Lion's Head denizens, I never met Liam Clancy. I did meet his brother Paddy, who died eleven years ago, at the Head's bar one afternoon in the 1980s, and even harmonized on a couple of songs with him. Tom, the oldest of the singing Clancys (there were nine siblings), died in 1990, and their singing partner Tommy Makem in 2007. Liam was the last remanant of a group I came to love in 1965, when I got a copy of their record album Recorded Live in Ireland. As announced on his website, Liam died in his native Ireland on Friday.

12/7 update: Liam was buried today. There was a rainbow. Photos and text are here.

New York Senator Diane Savino on marriage equality.

New York state Senator Diane Savino represents parts of Brooklyn and Staten Island. Her measured, well reasoned yet impassioned plea to her colleagues to approve marriage equality for same sex couples, in what I was dismayed to learn was a losing cause, has been well distributed on the web, but I'm compelled, on behalf of my many friends in committed same sex relationships and out of my sense of justice, to add it to my blog. To anyone who might accuse Senator Savino of playing to a gay vote in her district, I can vouch that it is an area that is largely middle class, Roman Catholic or Jewish, and "traditional" in values. Her speech, I believe, is an appeal to the better angels of her constituents' being.

Thanks to Brooklyn Heights Blog reader "Lifer" for giving me the link to Sen. Savino's speech. By following the link to BHB, you may also see the speech by Sen. Daniel Squadron, who represents my district, in favor of the marriage equality bill.

Grace Slick at seventy.

Someone once wrote that Jefferson Starship's Red Octopus was "proof positive that rockers can age gracefully." This photo (thanks again to Michael Simmons) of Grace Slick at seventy bears out that statement. Below is a YouTube clip of Starship doing "Fast Buck Freddie", the opening cut on Octopus, accompanied by a slideshow of photos of a younger, but not necessarily prettier, Grace (thanks to liquidgee13 for the clip):

Blue trees.

According to a sign at the far end of this row of trees, this art project at the World Financial Center is sponsored by Korean Air Lines. The artist isn't identified.

Paulina Sinaga: a Polish siren in Ontario.

Ontario, California, that is. Back in 1983, low-budget movie genius Mark Pirro gave us A Polish Vampire in Burbank, which included, among its highlights, this delightful Sonny and Cher cover by brother-sister duo Steve and Bobbi Dorsch:


Today, in Ontario, not too far from Burbank, there lives a Polish singer and ukulele strummer par excellence named Paulina Sinaga, who my friend Michael Simmons has dubbed "The First Great Star of the 21st Century." Here she is doing her cover of Weezer's "Island in the Sun", accompanying herself on both uke and kazoo, with supporting action by her cat, Pom Pom:


You can read about, and see and hear more of, the lovely Paulina on her MySpace, Facebook, and YouTube pages.

Harvard vs. Yale--The Game I never watch.

Maybe I should, though. When I was in my first year of law school, I went to a couple of Harvard football games. South Florida, my undergraduate alma mater didn't have football back then, so it was a new experience for me to be able to take a Saturday afternoon off, walk a short distance, and catch some gridiron action. I cheered for the Crimson, to no avail on either occasion, as I saw them defeated, first by Dartmouth, who edged them 23-21 for their first loss of the season after four wins, then by a Princeton team that demolished them 45-6 using the single wing offense, which was considered archaic even in 1967. Later, I read a piece in the law school newspaper that instructed 1Ls like me about a point of etiquette: it is uncool, as a law student, to root for Harvard athletic teams unless you are a graduate of that college located a block down Mass Ave. There was no exculpatory provision for having gone to a college that allowed only "participant oriented sports".

So, I went back to following the fortunes of Florida and Florida State, though news of either was hard to get in the Boston area. I remember being surprised by a late night jock on one of the local radio stations saying, "Well, I've got to hand it to my old Florida State team. They beat Florida today." I did get caught up in the celebration of Harvard's 1968 "victory" (actually a 29-29 tie--this was before overtime was introduced to college football) over a Yale team that had Brian Dowling, model for Doonesbury's "BD", at quarterback and Calvin Hill, later a running back for the Dallas Cowboys, and which, going into The Game, was ranked tenth in the nation in the AP poll. After leaving Cambridge, though, I scarcely gave Harvard football a thought.

That is, until I read this account of this year's Harvard-Yale game. It made me wish I could have been in the Yale Bowl for this nail-biter with a finish in doubt until the end, unlike today's Alabama-Auburn game, which was closer than anyone (except Auburn's coach, players and fans) expected, and featured some razzle-dazzle by Auburn early on, but in which I knew that other Crimson (the Tide) would prevail. (Update: See Pete Thamel's analysis in today's New York Times.)

Scanning the comments on the Harvard Magazine article, I found this by my friend and neighbor Bronson Binger:

My first cousin once removed, who graduated from Harvard around 1918, used to say that the Harvard-Yale game was called “The Game” because it was held to decide the amateur championship of the US.

I think that may be more true now than it was in 1918, because much of college football has become distinctly non-amateur. The BCS teams are, in effect, a minor league for the NFL, from which the most promising players are often taken before their college careers are done. Coaches, too, often rise from the BCS schools to the pros (though, unlike players, they may go in the opposite direction as well). I've never been a great fan of the concept of amateurism in athletics, which has historically been used to keep poor people from competing. Still, it's refreshing to see a college game in which the players can all be called "student athletes" without a knowing smirk, and where, perhaps, the game is played with a bit more brio because it's regarded as a game, not a career move.

Update: On big-time college athletics generally, see Gilbert Gaul's op-ed piece in today's Times.

"We Gather Together"

The North Guilford Congregational Church Bell Choir plays the Dutch folk melody that has become perhaps the most popular (Hey! I almost wrote "iconic", but I caught myself) Thanksgiving hymn.

A joyous Thanksgiving to all.

Message from Wally Backman, new manager of the Brooklyn Cyclones.

Can a hero of the 1986 NLCS and World Series lead the Brooklyn Cyclones out of their always-a-bridesmaid rut?

Again, thanks to New York Blips for the tip.

Update: Faith and Fear in Flushing has a thoughtful and well worth reading piece about Backman.

Message to Jude Law.

New York City is a densely populated place. If you're going to live here, and have a balcony on your apartment, and your apartment is visible from other nearby buildings, and you're a celebrity (or an attractive person given to sunbathing on your balcony), people are going to watch you. Deal with it; preferably without throwing fruit.

Thanks to New York Blips for the link.

Zelda, the Battery Park turkey, says, "Thanksgiving, Shmanksgiving!"

Here she is, bold as brass, a little over a week before the holiday on which millions of her co-speciesists will be roasted or, for the brave, deep-fried, calmly resting on a well-traveled footpath in a busy park in downtown Manhattan. I first spotted her (at the time, I was unaware of her name, and insufficiently steeped in turkey lore to perceive her gender) shortly before Thanksgiving three years ago. I saw her again in March of 2007. In a comment on that post, ChickenUnderwear pointed me to a New York Times City Room blog post post in which Sarah Grimké Aucoin, director of the New York City Urban Park Rangers, gives her history and name, including its provenance (Zelda Fitzgerald, wife of F. Scott, who wandered Battery Park in her episodes of mental distress). I don't know the average, non-Thanksgiving threatened, turkey life span, but I wish Zelda many more years of wandering the park.

Someone in Myanmar visited my blog.

I'm delighted, of course. Could it be an indication that President Obama's visit to Asia is bearing fruit? Perhaps. I'm curious to know, though, how my reader in Rangoon got to S-A B by way of Amazon's Christmas page?

The house that Jeter is building, and the aftermath of a victory parade.

The old Yankee Stadium was called "The House that Ruth Built". Will the new one be called "The House that Jeter Built"? Derek Jeter has been the preeminent Yankee player for the past decade, just as the Babe was in his day. Time will tell, and A-Rod may offer a dissenting opinion.

When I was in Tampa recently, a friend said, "You've got to see the house Jeter is building on Davis Islands." It was pretty easy to spot from Bayshore Boulevard: a massive edifice under construction on the western waterfront of the larger of the two islands. I drove out there and got the shot above. I've been told it's to have twenty three rooms, and is even larger than George Steinbrenner's house, which is located a few miles to the north.

The day after the Yankees' victory parade on lower Broadway, trees in City Hall Park were still festooned with paper.

Update: My colleague Bill, a Yankee fan (but a fine fellow nevertheless) kindly shared this photo of The House That Ruth Built being unbuilt:

Please bear with me.

No sooner had I returned from Florida, where Mom is now doing fine, when my Vista-cursed computer suffered cataclysmic OS failure. I am in the process of replacing it with a Windows 7 machine. I hope to have it up and running by tomorrow, and be back to posting as usual.

Live blogging Florida-Georgia from the Tapper Pub, Tampa

For the First Time Ever in History, Georgia wears black helmets. Dawgs won toss, chose to kick. Gators promptly marched to TD.

On their first possession, Georgia can't buy a thrill, but get a good punt to put Gators deep.

Florida receiver Brandon James could maybe double as a juggler--nice try.

Tebow throws a strke to Rodney Cooper, his roomie, for another TD. 14-0 Gators, Still 1st Q.

First play of second possession, Georgia penalized for false start. Gator LB Brandon Spikes (how many Florida players are named for this Tampa suburb?) has great dreads.

End of 1Q. Georgia passing game starting to click.

Start of 2Q. Georgia march stalled, but Dawgs get on board with a FG.

Second is all Georgia so far, as they get a pretty TD on a pass by QB Cox over the middle.

Gator offense gets stuffed, but Sturgis notches 56 yard FG.

Nice Georgia run nullified by holding, but Urban Meyer still looks as if his patience is sorely tried.

A Dawg defender also has impressive dreads, so long I can't read the name on his jersey.

Tebow scores on a dive play, passes Herschel Walker for SEC rushing TD record. 24-10 Gators.

Cox sacked. Shades of Watergate! Halftime.

Watching halftime report. Northwestern has a QB named Kafka. Wonder if he's subjected to inexplicable penalties.

Start of second half. A.J. Jones hits Georgia QB Cox, ball goes up and Jones grabs it for interception. Next play produces another Tebow rushing TD.

Georgia drives and gets a TD on a strike from Cox to a receiver with magnificent dreads. 31-17 Gators.

At this point, I had to forsake the Tapper when a call on my cell phone brought the unexpected but welcome news that my mother was about to be discharged from the hospital and sent to a skilled nursing and rehabilitation facility. Earlier in the day I had been told that, for administrative reasons, this wouldn't happen until Monday.

With Mom safely and comfortably in her new place, I stole a glance at the game's final minute on the activities room TV. From the highlights, I gather that after I stopped watching Florida got another FG, then the aforementioned Brandon Spikes scored on an interception to make the final score Gators 41, Dawgs 17. Apparently, having knock-'em-dead dreads was very important in this game.

So, my latest fearless prediction about the Gators, just like my previous one, has proved wrong. Once again, I'm glad it did.

My skepticism about my alma mater, South Florida, also was unfounded, as they rebounded from their drubbing by Pitt to defeat the 20th ranked West Virginia Mountaineers, 30-19.

Addendum: Tebow has a thing about putting scriptural citations in the little black anti-glare patches on his cheekbones. For the Georgia game it was Phil. 11-something (I never could discern the verse number). From Georgia's point of view, however, it probably should have been Hebrews 13:8.

Second addendum: Here's a photo of the Tapper's proprietor, and my high school friend, Kay Groetsch, tending the bar:

As you can see from Kay's welcoming smile, the Tapper is a friendly place. If you find yourself on Dale Mabry Highway (once designated the ugliest stretch of road in the U.S.) in the vicinity of Britton Plaza, a strip mall that has been around for about fifty years and should probably be on the National Register of Historic Places, and feel like having a brew or two, by all means drop in.

Marine art preserved in a New York subway station.

In 1913, the elegant Hotel McAlpin was completed at Broadway and 34th Street. The artist Fred Dana Marsh was commissioned to produce paintings illustrating the history of New York Harbor to decorate the Hotel's restaurant. These were executed on tiles, bordered by decorative terra cotta. Because of the paintings' popularity, the restaurant became known as the Marine Grill. In the early 1990s the McAlpin and its restaurant closed, and a developer bought the building for conversion to condominium apartments. The paintings, and their terra cotta borders, were preserved and re-installed on the walls of the heavily trafficked east-west passageway of the Broadway-Nassau/Fulton Street subway station in lower Manhattan. The painting above shows a four-stack transatlantic liner with Cunard's funnel markings (still in use today), probably the first Mauretania, which went into service in 1906.

 

This painting shows one of the coastal or inland waterway vessels that, in competition with the railroads, carried passengers between New York and places upstate along the Hudson as far as Albany, or New England by way of Long Island Sound.

 

This painting shows Dutch ships of the early seventeenth century bringing settlers to what is now New York. In the background is a gallows, with the bodies of two hanged criminals dangling from it.

I began work on this post several days before, in Brooklyn, and was referring to a photo I took of a plaque mounted in the station for information about the paintings and their removal to their present location. When I came to Florida, I neglected to include my photo of the plaque in my draft for reference, and therefore had to search the web for information to complete this post. In so doing, I discovered a much more thoroughgoing post on this subject by my friend Flatbush Gardener. It confirms my identification of the Cunard four-stacker as Mauretania, identifies the coastal passenger vessel as Commonwealth of the Fall River Line, shows some other paintings in the collecction, and gives the full story of how the art works were preserved and reconstructed after having been removed from the walls of the old McAlpin and the tiles scattered willy-nilly in bins.

Score one for the Real Baseball League: Phils 6, Yanks 1

Cliff Lee outpitched his old friend C.C. Sabathia, who gave up two dingers to Chase Utley, as the Phils beat the Yanks in the Series opener, at Nuevo Yankee Stadium.

Fans of short-attention-span ball may argue that, this game having been on an AL field, it was won with the DH rule prevailing. Nevertheless, the result without the DH would likely have still been a Phillies win, as they could have done without the two RBIs of their DH, Ibanez. (The Yanks' DH, Matsui, scored zip.)

Update: Has this Phillies fan taken "ball game" to a whole new level?

Game 2 update: Yanks even the Series, improving the chances for my hoped-for seven games.

The Series from Hell?

According to Lisa Swan, a Yankees versus Phillies Series should give any Mets fan agita. This Mets fan wanted the Yanks to win the pennant once the Red Sox (my favorite AL team by dint of spousal loyalty) were out of contention, if only for the boost it would give to New York City's economy. Now that they're up against the Phils, the question is, for whom do I root? As a Mets fan, I should naturally loathe the Phillies, who are division rivals and frequent nemeses (and, for those with long enough memories, sent us Juan Samuel in a slumping year). On the other hand, I'm a Pennsylvania native with Philadelphia ancestry, and loyal to the National League for preserving real baseball instead of pandering to short attention spans with the DH rule. So, what's to do? Flip a coin?

For now, it's not who I'm rooting for, but what: seven games.

College football: USF falls again, and a fearless prediction.

The South Florida Bulls, designated gladiators of my alma mater, appear to be reiterating a familiar process, i.e. start hot, get a big upset victory, lose a tough one, then fall to pieces. Have the sports gods cursed me by making me both a Mets and Bulls fan?

Meanwhile, the Florida Gators, my arch-loyalty from the days before USF football existed, managed to keep the longest winning streak in college ball going with a victory over Mississippi State. Last week, I wrote that this game had upset potential, and it was something of a struggle for the Gators, though not as much as their previous game against Arkansas. Next Saturday, though, Florida faces a different set of Bulldogs: their arch-rival Georgia. Here is my fearless prediction: Dawgs over Gators, in a close one. (Note, however, that my last fearless prediction came a cropper.)

Bach's third Brandenberg, two ways: Advent Chamber Orchestra and Punch Brothers

The clip above is of the first movement, allegro, of J.S. Bach's third Brandenberg concerto, performed by the Advent Chamber Orchestra, using traditional instrumentation. Instead of showing the musicians playing the piece, this clip, made by smalin, presents a "scrolling, bar-graph score" that lets you visualize the notes being played by the various instruments.



Now, as the Pythons would say, for something completely different. Here's a performance by the Punch Brothers, a five man string band who use traditional bluegrass instruments--banjo, bass, fiddle, guitar, and mandolin--to play both bluegrass and classical music. The clip above shows them, along with Rob Moose on an additional violin, performing Rob's arrangement of the third movement, also allegro, of the third Brandenberg.

Football, finally: Gators survive, Bulls don't.

I've held back on my usual commentary on college football this season, waiting for the shoes to drop. As of now, one has, but the other hasn't. The one that has is that my alma mater, South Florida, has continued its pattern of starting hot, pulling off a stunning upset (this year of Florida State), getting nationally ranked, then losing. This year's nemesis is Cincinnati, which comes out of the game still unbeaten and ranked fifth in both the AP poll and the BCS. It wasn't an instance of the Bulls getting the vapors because of their previous week's ranking of 21st in the AP poll and being on national TV; Cincy was just a better team. What remains to be seen is whether USF can prove resilient instead of going into a funk, as they have after their first loss in the past two seasons. It won't be easy: their next game is away against Pitt, 6-1 and 20th in both AP and BCS, after which they come home to face West Virginia, 5-1, 22nd in AP and 23rd in BCS.

The shoe that didn't drop, at least not yet, was Florida losing to an unranked team, as they did last year to Ole Miss, though the Gators rebounded from that and went on to win the SEC and the BCS championship. While they dodged disaster in the Arkansas game, their next two have, in my view, high upset potential. Next Saturday the visit Mississippi State, which has upset their applecart in the past. A week after that, they face Ur-rival Georgia which, though thrice beaten and unranked, will be hungry for revenge after a string of losses and well-rested, having this weekend off.

Bruce Wasserstein, 1947-2009

I was shocked, while skimming the news a while ago, to come across this Reuters story announcing the death of my law school classmate, Bruce Wasserstein. I hadn't seen Bruce since a class reunion almost twenty years ago; at the time, it struck me how fit he looked compared to the chubby youngster (he started law school at 19, two years younger than most of his classmates, and three years after entering the University of Michigan at 16) I had known from classes and the occasional shared lunch table twenty or so years before. Until I saw the Reuters story, I didn't know about the recent concerns over his health, or the heart irregularities that put him in the hospital several days ago.

The Bruce I knew back in the day was a committed leftist who had been active in Students for a Democratic Society ("SDS"), the pre-eminent student radical organization of the 1960s, as an undergraduate at Michigan. I was surprised when he told me that he was entering the newly announced joint J.D./M.B.A. program, which entailed spending an extra year in Cambridge taking courses at the Business School. He needed, he said, to understand the workings of the system he opposed. For a time, he worked for Ralph Nader, and put his business degree to use in heading the team that produced Nader's critique of Citibank, a thick, statistics laden book the cover of which was adorned with a cartoon pig.

I was surprised, but not shocked, when I heard he had gone to work for Cravath, then and now perhaps New York's most prestigious corporate law firm. The Cravath partnership included several prominent former Kennedy New Frontiersmen, and some who had been student radicals of the '60s were settling into similar career paths, perhaps rationalizing that they could do more good (and make some money in the process which, of course, could also be put to good use) by working inside the system. His leaving Cravath for investment banking, initially at First Boston, also seemed a logical move. By then, I had pretty much lost touch with him, but assumed he still was on the left politically. I was disabused of that notion in 1980, when I volunteered to work on a law school fund raising telethon, and Bruce showed up with a stack of invitations to a fundraiser for Mark Green's congressional campaign. Mark had been Bruce's closest friend in law school and after that a fellow Nader Raider. As he passed around the invitations, Bruce said, "Friendship compels me to do this, but I hope no one here is still a liberal Democrat."

Bruce was preceded in death by his younger sister, Wendy, a Tony and Pulitzer winning playwright, who succumbed to lymphoma at the age of 55. He adopted her young daughter.

I'm impressed by the succinct comment made by "JHL" in response to the piece in today's New York Times Deal Book blog:

Good banker. Created value for clients. Sine qua non of banking, but he would have offered more over time. Peace.

I, too, think "he would have offered more." I envisioned his winding down his frenetic deal-making and, re-kindling his youthful fervor for social justice, applying his tremendous intelligence and practical know-how to some grand project or projects for which he might be remembered long after the RJR/Nabisco and Time/Warner deals are forgotten.

Still life with jellicle.

Jellicle Cats are black and white,
Jellicle Cats are rather small;
Jellicle Cats are merry and bright,
And pleasant to hear when they caterwaul.
--T.S. Eliot, "The Song of the Jellicles"

Hepzibah at one of her favorite perches, next to the wheatgrass on which she and her brother, Attila, love to graze. (Photo by Martha Foley.)

Update: Twif asks: "[I]s posting cat photos worse that baby pics?" You decide.

Dolly Trolly wants you for an indie band angel.

Dolly Trolly (clockwise from top left: Sam Trioli, bass, guitar and piano; Tara Lynne Mallon, rhythm guitar, keyboards, percussion and vocals; Tami Johnson, drums and vocals; and Gerard Kouwenhoven, lead guitar, bass and vocals) is a Brooklyn-based band with a self-described style--"Indie/Southern Rock/Pop"--that caught my eye. Having listened to their songs on their MySpace Page, I'm convinced of this group's potential. In some of their vocal harmonies and guitar work I hear echoes of the early Byrds, and their arrangements bring to mind Smiley Smile and later Beach Boys, so perhaps the "Southern rock" refers to Southern California (although when Tara Lynne dons the blonde wig and shades she bears some resemblance to Marshall Chapman).

They're now appealing for funds to complete their demo CD; counting, in these fraught economic times, on their fans to come through for them. Their appeal is stated in a video, no longer available, that used as its musical background the song "Night":



In order to raise the $2,799 (of which $820 has already been pledged) needed to complete the project, the band is asking for pledges (which will only be called upon if they reach the goal by 9:00 A.M. on November 9), for which they are offering rewards based on the amount of the pledge (the rewards are also presumably contingent on their meeting the $2,799 goal by the stipulated date). These are described in detail on this web page. A pledge of only $9 gets you a CD; $25 an autographed CD and a t-shirt. Above that, the reward selection becomes a veritable narcissists' candy store. A $50 pledge gets "props mobile", meaning the band will dedicate a song you choose to you at all their performances, and $150 will have you listed as an "executive producer" of their CD. Pledge $200 and they will write a song about the subject of your choice, list you in the song credits, and dedicate it to you at their three subsequent performances. For $300, you get the "YOUniCyCle" award, which means the group will write a song about you; and $500 gets you a starring role in their next music video.

Update: Dolly Trolly reached their goal on Kickstarter and their CD, Tiny Love Pieces, was produced. (I have a copy, signed by the then band members.) The band still exists, though reduced to three members: Trioli, Mallon, and Johnson.

Yanks win, Red sox lose.

It's official. I'm a Yankee fan for the duration of the ALCS, and maybe for the Series. Sorry, Twif; I hope you enjoy your quality time with Lil' MacDuff and Harold.