CantBlogTooBusy

“They told us that she rolled her own tobacco — Kite brand, in a green pouch — but that she also sometimes smoked a corncob pipe. She carried a pistol under her apron, a long-barreled “old type” of pistol. Robin stood and up and did an impersonation of her locking up the house at night. Staggering stiffly around in the nightgown, with the long pistol dangling in her hand. She would sing while doing the dishes and cleaning. Her house had no running water. She didn’t trust banks and kept her money in the outhouse, under the planks. She liked to hunt possums and chopped her own wood. She was “almost a man,” they said. Had I heard that she used to jump trains?”

Josh Jeremiah Sullivan’s amazing ‘The Ballad of Geeshie and Elvie’

The online version of John Jeremiah Sullivan’s delta blues article and the magazine version. First time I’ve ever seen web do this much better at storytelling than print.

The online version of John Jeremiah Sullivan’s delta blues article and the magazine version. First time I’ve ever seen web do this much better at storytelling than print.

Enjoying a drink across from where Carcosa was shot. #nawlfilter

Enjoying a drink across from where Carcosa was shot. #nawlfilter

A boy in her class loaned her Alpine The Reindeer and she loves him.

A boy in her class loaned her Alpine The Reindeer and she loves him.

“John A. Frascotti, the chief marketing officer at Hasbro, pointed out other reasons for these toys’ growing popularity.
“It’s the coming of age of the Title IX mom, who grew up as an athlete in her own right,” he said, referring to the gender equity law. “And men, who have grown up in that environment, who have daughters, want their children, both boys and girls, to have equal opportunity to play.””

The Times’ front-page piece about girls’ new love bows and arrows.

I remember the last thing I ever made of Lego, far later into adolescence than I should admit. It was a robot that, thanks to double-jointed hinges, could continually reconfigure itself without being disassembled. And in this sense it was anti-Lego, capable of being remade without being unmade. I knew that it was the most I could ever do in the medium, and the end of an era. It drifted back into that bucket.


A quarter-century later I saw the same bucket opened and overturned by a young nephew. And there, like a time traveler, was this same robot. Mostly just its legs, standing Ozymandias-like in a pile of bricks. I reached for it, but not faster than my nephew, who, recognizing an accretion of especially useful pieces, instantly dissolved it with his hands.

– Thomas de Monchaux, "an architect who is writing a book about trucks, forts and dinosaurs."

7AM

  • Dad: "Hey, Jelly. How'd you sleep?"
  • 2-year-old: "In the bed!"