Friday, January 7, 2011

Connecting

I was taking down my Christmas tree a few days ago, and as I was sweeping up the needles (very few; it was a great tree) I recalled a fond memory from 1979.

Like most of my college class, I spent my junior year studying (I use the term loosely) overseas. This was long before e-mail, cell phones, and Skype, and Europe was much more remote. Trans-Atlantic calls were almost unheard of: you had to book them in advance with the college porter, Colin, and the quality of the connection was deplorable, full of echoes and delays.
So my mother and I communicated via letters, written on blue, tissue-paper-thin mailers that could be folded up and sealed to create their own envelope.
I received one letter from her in January. I slit the edges immediately and eagerly read all the home news, but what I remember most is the fact that she had disobeyed the strict injunction against putting any enclosures in these mailers -- and had sent me a few needles from our family's Christmas tree.
Thanks, Mum.

No place like Homeville

A foxhunting friend reports that during a recent meet her horse was so hyperactive ("Rodeo Boy," she dubbed him) that for safety's sake (her own) she decided to call it a day. She asked her fellow riders how to backtrack to the trailers parked near Homeville, and they pointed her in the general direction.
She rode along the perimeter of a few fields and flagged down a mail carrier approaching in his vehicle to confirm what road she was on.

To her dismay, he didn't know. He was just filling in, he said, and all he could tell her was that he had turned off Homeville Road nearby.
She knew exactly where to find her trailer from that point, but wouldn't you think that a person delivering mail would be a ready source of accurate information about road names?

Thursday, January 6, 2011

Remember Jim?

I'm sure a lot of folks have fond memories of Jim Robinson, our former Postmaster in Unionville. He and his partner are living in Evergreen, Colorado, and I received a sweet Christmas card from them. "No snow yet!" he reports.

Wednesday, January 5, 2011

Crunch time

Every January lots of folks make the praiseworthy resolution to get in shape, and a certain proportion of them will join the YMCA in order to do so. The result is that during the first few weeks of the year, the Y gets unusually crowded. This morning, a sign at the Jennersville Y announced a 30-minute limit on the cardio equipment (I disobeyed; nobody was waiting), and I'm told there has been double-parking in the parking lot of the West Chester Y. Unfamiliar faces can be seen walking the track, testing out the fitness equipment, taking a dip in the pool or doing an aerobics or yoga class.
But by the end of January, sad to say, most of them are gone. It happens every year.
If you want to stay the course, my advice is to find an activity you like and to make working out part of your schedule. The Y is open all kinds of hours to accommodate busy people; some high-powered local executives I know get their workouts in before dawn.

For political junkies only

Each January, the board of supervisors in each township in Pennsylvania is required to "reorganize," part of which involves electing a chairman and vice-chair. In a brief session on Jan. 3, the West Marlborough board decided to keep the same officers as in 2010: Bill Wylie as chair and Mike Ledyard as vice-chair. The third supervisor, Hugh Lofting, will remain Roadmaster and Emergency Management Coordinator. Shirley Walton remains township secretary-treasurer.
Mr. Wylie is president of Mitchell, Sinkler & Starr, investment advisors in Philadelphia. Mr. Ledyard is a partner with Morris James, the Delaware law firm. Mr. Lofting owns Hugh Lofting Timber Framing Inc. in Kennett Square.
Supervisors' meetings are held at 7:30 p.m. on the first Tuesday of each month, preceeded by the Planning Commission at 7 p.m. Despite West Marlborough's small population (fewer than 900 people), these meetings attract a loyal following to the township building, which is a comment either on our civic-mindedness or our boundless curiosity about our neighbors.

Could be worse

A commenter on my blog asked me if stink bugs make a sound.
Not that I've noticed. As they fly they make a droning, monotonic noise, lower in pitch than that of a darting hummingbird. And then they make a quiet little "thud" as they land on the windowsill or wall.
Certainly I make some noises, and often some very unladylike ones, when I see, say, the 27th bug of the day, and just as I'm getting into bed for the night.
And an East Marlborough reader reports an alarming symptom of stink bug overload: she finds herself "mistaking nail holes, bits of dust or leaves, etc." for the little creatures. I can SO relate to that.

Proofreaders never sleep....

Or, why you can't rely on spell-checking programs:
1. Classified section of the "Community Courier," Jan. 5: "Cut & spilt firewood."
2. Sports page of the "Wall Street Journal," Dec. 31: two references to a Wisconsin football player who grew up on a farm "bailing hay."

Concrete bland

There's a Philadelphia radio station (headquartered in the same Bala Cynwyd office building as my accountant) that has started using a recorded female voice to announce the titles and artists of the songs they play:

"Culture Club. Do You Really Want to Hurt Me."

"Hall and Oates. You Make My Dreams Come True."

"Modern English. Melt With You."

Her robotic, almost narcotized tone conveys about as much emotion as the recorded voice that tells you to press 1 on an automated voice-mail system. It's really jarring and, these days, unnecessary: if you're curious about a song title or who sings it, and it doesn't show up on your car's video screen, just do an online search for a couple of words in the lyrics. Piece of cake.
Then again, what do I know? The station honchos may have done extensive focus-group research and found that the robo-announcer was the top choice among their favored demographic.

Night out

Dukes of Destiny will be playing its annual concert at West Grove Friends Meeting at 8 p.m. Saturday, Jan. 29. Yes, a dance party in a Quaker meetinghouse, and everybody from little kids to aging hippies gets out on the floor for this one! To listen to the Dukes, visit their Facebook page, and for tickets, visit http://www.turtledove.org/. The show is presented by the Turtledove Folk Club.

Howdy!

I hadn't ventured east of the Route 1/202 intersection for some time and was amazed at all the new businesses that have sprung up along Route 1 from 202 to 322. One of them is the Texas Roadhouse, a restaurant where a young member of our family decided we would celebrate his birthday. We got there at 5 p.m. on a Sunday and the place was already crowded; when we finished dinner there were people lined up in the lobby.
It's a cheerful, reasonably priced family restaurant where you can get a good steak and a beer, and the service was accommodating and friendly, even as busy as it was. They made a fuss over the birthday boy, and at one point the staff launched into a line dance.
In other restaurant news, there's a sign up at the King's Island Chinese restaurant announcing "Grand Re-opening Soon." Alas, in smaller print underneath, it says "Mid-December."

Sunday, January 2, 2011

Seasonal

It was a wonderful and busy holiday season. I've got one final party to attend today, and then comes that seemingly endless bleak period when there's absolutely nothing social going on. Every December I re-learn my small talk and mingling skills and remember how to balance a wine glass and a full plate of food while standing up and chatting brightly (bonus points for being able to shake hands or pet a dog in the meantime). Then those abilities get stashed away again til the next season, just like the festive red and black outfits and the Christmas platters.