Wordplay

I finally got around to watching Wordplay this past weekend, after letting it languish on my DVR for weeks and weeks and weeks. It's a documentary about the venerable New York Times crossword puzzle, its current editor Will Shortz, and the subculture of competitive crossword puzzlers -- specifically, attendees of the 28th annual American Crossword Puzzle Tournament, which Shortz founded. As dry as that may sound to some, the film was really well constructed (that's a crossword joke) -- informative, amusing, and surprisingly dramatic. And inspiring... I'm thinking about whether I could get down to Brooklyn for the weekend of 2/29/08 and try my hand at it. Hmmm...

Tangentially speaking... writing about Wordplay reminded me of a site I hadn't visited for quite a while: Wordie, which bills itself as "Like Flickr, but without the photos". In lieu of uploading photos, you can upload (OK, type) your favorite words into public lists in a somewhat spartan social networking sort of environment. When you add a word to your list, you then see a list of all users that listed the same word, and any comments they may have left behind. Fun and interesting, in a specific and extremely geeky way. But hey, that's me (and these are my words). Perhaps I should add "bunkwash"?

Vintage style

Continuing my look back on the burnt orange and avocado green era of my childhood...

My mom (who knows perfectly well what a blog is, thank you very much) recently forwarded me an email containing excerpts from a department store catalog from the late seventies. And by some strange synchronicity, today I came across this blog entry dissecting a JCPenney catalog from 1975. Wow, if you thought Alistair Cookie was unsuitable for children, how about pimp duds, guns, and water pipes? Not to mention all that acrylic pile.

And before anyone says it: yes, I'm fully aware that one of my children is one day bound to make similar public mockery of turn-of-the-century style, via whatever technology supplants those old-fashioned "blogs" that Dad is always blathering on about. But refer once more to the photo of the red and black bathroom decor, and then judge me...

* OM NOM NOM NOM * Pipe have smooth, rich flavor!

I had seen something about this earlier this week, but this NY Times article paints a lot of good cultural context in around the origins of Sesame Street, back in the day. On one hand, it's true that much much much has changed in our society over the past 38 years... but to label Sesame Street as "adult content"? Let us get over selves, just little bit, people...

Snarky family email commentary:

• Sis: "It's okay... it's okay. We're here for you and I believe they are in the process of setting up support groups for our harmed generation. I also have a lawsuit in the works (since I'm part of THAT generation as well)."


• Dad: "Ah bunkwash! Both of you be proud of belonging to the last of the non-wimp generation. You lived on the edge! No car seats after 3 years old. No helmets for bicycles, or mouth guards for that matter. Walks in deer tick infested woods. They don’t make them like you anymore."

It's worth noting, incidentally, that Jim Henson was perfectly capable of intentionally producing content for adults... check out his short film "Time Piece" c. 1965 -- with the talents of "Frank Oznowicz", watch for him. (Thanks to Ze Frank, via whose blog I found this.)

By the way: don't eat pipes. This public service message has been brought to you by the letter O (for "om nom nom").

Yes... about the blog. Well.

OK, so perhaps, after three months, I ought to take another run at this. So.

I seem to have a bit of a problem starting things. Different reasons for putting off different tasks at different times... this time I'd pretty much convinced myself that I didn't have anything of substance to say after all, so what good is a freakin' blog? Honestly, I'm still a little worried that may be true... but the point is that I ought to try first before I decide I've already failed. I think.

So tonight, I feel very strongly that I... should go to bed. Perhaps tomorrow...