Let's get the most important stuff out of the way first. On Jeopardy! last night, in a category called Aunties, not a single one of the contestants buzzed in to say "Who is Auntie Mame?" even though the clue mentioned Patrick Dennis and Rosalind Russell, nor did anyone buzz in to say "Who is Aunt Polly?" even though the clue mentioned Tom and Becky and a whitewashed fence. As the Vulcan character Mr. Spock portrayed by Leonard Nimoy on Star Trek often said, "Fascinating."
Okay, that's over with.
Today is Friday the 13th, not that it matters, and in two more days there will be a total lunar eclipse visible in the Western Hemisphere, a "super blood moon" as it is being referred to in the media because it will occur at the moon's perigee in its orbit, a mere 225,000 miles from the surface of the earth. The moon will appear to be 7% larger than at other times, not that that matters either. I thought you would want to know.
Moving right along....
When our family lived in Florida back in the late 1960s to mid-1970s, the first number on an automobile license plate represented the county's rank in population among Florida's 67 counties. Every Floridian worth his or her salt knew that 1 was Dade County (Miami), 2 was Duval County (Jacksonville), 3 was Hillsborough County (Tampa), 4 was Pinellas County (St. Petersburg), 5 was Leon County (Tallahassee), 6 was Palm Beach County (West Palm Beach), 7 was Orange County (Orlando), 8 was Volusia County (Daytona Beach), 9 was Escambia County (Pensacola), and 10 was Broward County (Fort Lauderdale). After that, everything was a blur/no one could possibly care/it didn't matter about the other 57 counties.
The cost of a license plate (that is, the tax assessed) was based on the weight of the vehicle, which was reflected in the tag number by a letter of the alphabet after the county ranking number. D meant a small, economy car; no suffix meant a heavier car; W meant an even heavier car; and WW meant the heaviest car of all. An E didn't indicate weight but meant that the car was leased or rented. G meant something too, as I recall, but I forget what, which may be something of a first for my readers. I'm pulling your leg (British, joking).
Florida changed its automobile license plate scheme many years ago and today an entirely different system is in place. The most recent census in 2020 shows that Florida's population has shifted dramatically from when we lived there. For example, in 1960 Florida had 4.9 million people and was ranked 10th among the 50 states. Today Florida has 21.9 million people and is ranked 3rd among the 50 states.
Today the most populous counties in Florida bear little resemblance to the old license-plate system:
1. Dade (Miami) - 2.70 million (rank unchanged)
2. Broward (Fort Lauderdale) - 1.94 million (up from 10th place)
3. Palm Beach West Palm Beach) - 1.48 million ( up from 6th place)
4. Hillsborough (Tampa) - 1.45 million (down from 3rd place)
5. Orange (Orlando) - 1.37 million (up from 7th place)
6. Pinellas (St. Petersburg) - 970,000 (down from 4th place)
7. Duval (Jacksonville) - 948,000 (down from 2nd place)
8. Lee (Cape Coral-Fort Myers) - 756,000
9. Polk (Lakeland) - 705,000
10. Brevard (Cocoa-Titusville-Melbourne) - 594,000
Volusia (Daytona Beach), Leon (Tallahassee), and Escambia (Pensacola) have dropped out of the top ten altogether.
Demographic minutiae like today's post are interesting to me. I hope they don't bore you to tears.
I challenge you to do similar research on your own area of interest and report it on your own blog.
Because somewhere, someone will care.
Showing posts with label Jeopardy!. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Jeopardy!. Show all posts
Friday, May 13, 2022
Tuesday, May 3, 2022
As the world turns
Two of my grandchildren are graduating from university this month, one in Alabama this Friday and one here in Georgia next Friday. Both are going on immediately to graduate school to obtain masters degrees before they attempt to go out into the cold cruel world where their beloved grandpa lives and contribute to society at large.
The grandchild in Alabama popped the question to his longtime girlfriend a couple of weeks ago and sheresponded in the affirmative said "Yes!" -- so now a third wedding among the grandchildren is in the offing, probably late this year or early next year. She is getting a Bachelor of Science degree in Nursing, so if he gets a boo-boo on his finger while playing French horn she will have a band-aid at the ready. At least, that's how I see it.
Rumor (British, rumour) has it this morning, thanks to a leaked first draft of a majority opinion penned by Justice Samuel Alito in February -- isn't that convenient? -- that the Supreme Court will overturn the Roe v. Wade decision of 1973 and the Planned Parrenthood v. Casey decision of 1992 sometime between now and the end of the current session of the Court in June. Some are rejoicing and some are weeping and wailing, and I suspect the noise is just beginning. The Atlanta Journal-Constitution is already opining that this decision will insure the re-election of Raphael Warnock, a Democrat, to the U.S. Senate and the election of Stacey Abrams , a Democrat, to the Governor's chair here in Georgia. Time, as they say, will tell.
While we have been sitting here minding our own business, reapportionment, which occurs every ten years following the national census, has moved us from Georgia's 11th Congressional District, where we have been represented by one Barry Loudermilk for the past several years, to Georgia's 6th Congressional District, where there are currently 9 or 10 or 11 (but who's counting?) candidates vying for the seat because the current occupant, Lucy McBath, decided to run in the 7th District instead against Carolyn Bordeaux, also a Democrat, because reapportionment drew a lot of conservative voters into the 6th District and Ms. McBath, who is actually from Tennessee, was likely to be unable to keep her seat (my goodness, what a long sentence. It reminds me of an old quote, "If I had more time, I would have written a shorter letter"). I understand that this sort of thing happens all the time in countries with a parliamentary system (I'm looking at you, United Kingdom) but it is a rare thing in the good old U. S of A.
I realize (British, realise) that most of you couldn't care less (Texan, could care less) about our political shenanigans and the brouhaha they generate, so I will quietly change the subject.
But first, one last look at the Congressmen who have represented us in Washington since we moved to Georgia in 1975. They are a varied lot. Since we lived in Marietta in Cobb County we were in the 7th district and were represented by Dr. Larry McDonald, a urologist and ultra-conservative politician who is remembered chiefly for two things: becoming chairman of the John Birch Society and being killed in 1983 when the Korean Air Lines flight on which he was a passenger was shot down when it wandered over Soviet air space. Later we had Buddy Darden, former District Attorney of Cobb County; Dr. Phil Gingrey, an obstetrician at Kennestone Hospital; and, after reapportionment put us into Georgia's 6th District, Newt Gingrich, who became Speaker of the U.S. House of Representatives in 1995 and whose third wife, Calista, was appointed ambassador to the Vatican by President Donald Trump. After Newt we got Johnny Isakson, son of the founder of Northside Realty, who later became a Senator for many years. He died in 2019. We moved to Cherokee County in 2003.
I don't know why I remember stuff like this, I just do.
Last night on Jeopardy!, no one, not even Halifax's-own-by-way-of-Toronto-20-game-champion Mattea Roach, buzzed in to say, "Who is Alger Hiss?"
It's a pity.
The world keeps turning despite our best efforts.
The grandchild in Alabama popped the question to his longtime girlfriend a couple of weeks ago and she
Rumor (British, rumour) has it this morning, thanks to a leaked first draft of a majority opinion penned by Justice Samuel Alito in February -- isn't that convenient? -- that the Supreme Court will overturn the Roe v. Wade decision of 1973 and the Planned Parrenthood v. Casey decision of 1992 sometime between now and the end of the current session of the Court in June. Some are rejoicing and some are weeping and wailing, and I suspect the noise is just beginning. The Atlanta Journal-Constitution is already opining that this decision will insure the re-election of Raphael Warnock, a Democrat, to the U.S. Senate and the election of Stacey Abrams , a Democrat, to the Governor's chair here in Georgia. Time, as they say, will tell.
While we have been sitting here minding our own business, reapportionment, which occurs every ten years following the national census, has moved us from Georgia's 11th Congressional District, where we have been represented by one Barry Loudermilk for the past several years, to Georgia's 6th Congressional District, where there are currently 9 or 10 or 11 (but who's counting?) candidates vying for the seat because the current occupant, Lucy McBath, decided to run in the 7th District instead against Carolyn Bordeaux, also a Democrat, because reapportionment drew a lot of conservative voters into the 6th District and Ms. McBath, who is actually from Tennessee, was likely to be unable to keep her seat (my goodness, what a long sentence. It reminds me of an old quote, "If I had more time, I would have written a shorter letter"). I understand that this sort of thing happens all the time in countries with a parliamentary system (I'm looking at you, United Kingdom) but it is a rare thing in the good old U. S of A.
I realize (British, realise) that most of you couldn't care less (Texan, could care less) about our political shenanigans and the brouhaha they generate, so I will quietly change the subject.
But first, one last look at the Congressmen who have represented us in Washington since we moved to Georgia in 1975. They are a varied lot. Since we lived in Marietta in Cobb County we were in the 7th district and were represented by Dr. Larry McDonald, a urologist and ultra-conservative politician who is remembered chiefly for two things: becoming chairman of the John Birch Society and being killed in 1983 when the Korean Air Lines flight on which he was a passenger was shot down when it wandered over Soviet air space. Later we had Buddy Darden, former District Attorney of Cobb County; Dr. Phil Gingrey, an obstetrician at Kennestone Hospital; and, after reapportionment put us into Georgia's 6th District, Newt Gingrich, who became Speaker of the U.S. House of Representatives in 1995 and whose third wife, Calista, was appointed ambassador to the Vatican by President Donald Trump. After Newt we got Johnny Isakson, son of the founder of Northside Realty, who later became a Senator for many years. He died in 2019. We moved to Cherokee County in 2003.
I don't know why I remember stuff like this, I just do.
Last night on Jeopardy!, no one, not even Halifax's-own-by-way-of-Toronto-20-game-champion Mattea Roach, buzzed in to say, "Who is Alger Hiss?"
It's a pity.
The world keeps turning despite our best efforts.
Saturday, April 30, 2022
Friday’s no-buzz-ins on Jeopardy!
...that I nonetheless knew:
What is Sugar Loaf?
Who is Pepin?
Can you tell me (without Googling anything) the clues that resulted in these two responses?
My dad used to say some strange things, such as "Fingers were made before forks" and "Wish in one hand and spit in the other and see what you get the most of" and "put your hand on your 'huh?' and see if your heart's beating". What strange things did your dad say?
He also said that "Hesky hokey damey, hubisku" meant "Nice girl, give me a kiss" in 'Bohunk' but Google Translate is of no help whatever.
Tomorrow being May 1st, it is 12 days until what would have been my dad's 116th birthday. Maybe I suffer from a sort of seasonal affective disorder where he is concerned. Who is to say?
This post makes no sense at all, but I'm going to publish it anyway. Why should today be any different?
What is Sugar Loaf?
Who is Pepin?
Can you tell me (without Googling anything) the clues that resulted in these two responses?
My dad used to say some strange things, such as "Fingers were made before forks" and "Wish in one hand and spit in the other and see what you get the most of" and "put your hand on your 'huh?' and see if your heart's beating". What strange things did your dad say?
He also said that "Hesky hokey damey, hubisku" meant "Nice girl, give me a kiss" in 'Bohunk' but Google Translate is of no help whatever.
Tomorrow being May 1st, it is 12 days until what would have been my dad's 116th birthday. Maybe I suffer from a sort of seasonal affective disorder where he is concerned. Who is to say?
This post makes no sense at all, but I'm going to publish it anyway. Why should today be any different?
Thursday, April 1, 2021
No April Fools need apply
Here are the latest crop of you-know-whats1:
What is Moscow?
What is Catfish Row?
What is incontrovertible?
Who is George Burns?
What is a demon?
What is Vertigo?
What is Malachi?
In the category Russian History, the clue was "Ivan I lived in this city."
In the category Seafood Scenery, the clue was "the waterfront marketplace area where Porgy and Bess lived."
In the category 16-letter Words, the clue was "the kind of evidence that cannot be dismissed."
In the category People Who Lived Past 100, the clue was "this man co-starred in 'The Sunshine Boys' and left without saying 'Good night, Gracie'."
I cannot remember the fifth category or the clue.
In the category The Movies, the clue mentioned Kim Novak and James Stewart.
In the category The Old Testament, the clue mentioned "the last book."
1A you-know-what is the term I have decided to apply to an answer no contestant on Jeopardy! came up with buzzed in on knew but which I was yelling at my television set.
What is Moscow?
What is Catfish Row?
What is incontrovertible?
Who is George Burns?
What is a demon?
What is Vertigo?
What is Malachi?
In the category Russian History, the clue was "Ivan I lived in this city."
In the category Seafood Scenery, the clue was "the waterfront marketplace area where Porgy and Bess lived."
In the category 16-letter Words, the clue was "the kind of evidence that cannot be dismissed."
In the category People Who Lived Past 100, the clue was "this man co-starred in 'The Sunshine Boys' and left without saying 'Good night, Gracie'."
I cannot remember the fifth category or the clue.
In the category The Movies, the clue mentioned Kim Novak and James Stewart.
In the category The Old Testament, the clue mentioned "the last book."
1A you-know-what is the term I have decided to apply to an answer no contestant on Jeopardy!
Friday, March 26, 2021
This, That, and The Other, or A Cornucopia Of Delights
1. THIS
While driving around town from store to store the other day, I heard a number on the car radio that I hadn't heard in a very long time. It took me back to the 1960s and my early involvement with the computer world. I'm not referring to a musical number, I'm referring to a literal number. Someone reporting on how the New York Stock Exchange was doing said that the Dow Jones Industrial Average had risen over 300 points to -- wait for it -- 32,768.
Why would I remember that particular number and why would it take me back to the early days of computing? I will tell tou why.
It equals 32K in computer-speak!
Let me explain for the uninitiated. In our physical world, K is an abbreviation for the Greek prefix kilo- and means 1,000 (as in a 10K race, 10 kilometers, 10,000 meters) but the world of computers deals internally with ones and zeroes only, 1 and 0, to indicate yes/no or off/on for each bit of information. This kind of arithmetic is called binary (base 2) because it has only two possibilities, 0 or 1. There is no 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, or 9 as in the decimal (base 10) system. In the computer world, the letter K does not mean 10 raised to the third power, it means 2 raised to the tenth power, which is 1,024 -- here's proof: 2 × 2 (or 2 squared) is 4; 2 × 2 × 2 (or 2 cubed) is 8; and so on, and the number doubles with each successive power, 16 (4th power); 32 (5th power); 64 (6th power); 128 (7th power); 256 (8th power); 512 (9th power); and voila!, 2 to the 10th power turns out to be 1,024 or 1K for short.
If you keep doing this, you find that 2K is 2,048 and 4K is 4,096 and if you keep going until you reach 2 to the 15th power you will reach 32,768 or 32K!
It seemed like old home week there for a second the other day while listening to the stock market report on the car radio!
To enlighten or confuse you further, in our physical world 1,000 × 1,000 equals 1,000,000 (one million, often abbreviated as 1M). In computer-speak, 1K × 1K is also 1M, which is an abbreviation of the Greek mega -- so far so good -- but 1M means 1,048,576 because it is 1,024 (1K, or 2 raised to the 10th power) × 1,024 (1K, or 2 raised to the 10th power). It is not 10 raised to the fourth power as in decimal, it is 2 raised to the 20th power. It is plain to see that the larger the number, the more it diverges from what our decimal-based minds may think. If we are not careful, a moon shot could miss the moon altogether.
Before we leave THIS, let me throw in two more pieces of information. After K (thousand) and M (million) come G (giga-, billion) and T (tera-, trillion). And if you go in the opposite direction, getting smaller instead of bigger, the prefixes are different: Take the unit of time called a second, for example. One-thousandth of a second is called a millisecond, one-millionth is called a microsecond, one-billionth is called a nanosecond, and one trillionth is called a picosecond. I will ignore for now the fact that billion in the U.S. is milliard in the U.K., and trillion in the U.S. is billion in the U.K.
Now that we are all completely confused, including me, let's move on to THAT.
2. THAT
Here is the latest crop of "nobody could answer but me" answers from Jeopardy! along with some of the clues:
Who is George Bernard Shaw? (the playwright who wrote Man And Superman)
What is the Bay of Fundy?
Who is Lord Snowden? (the husband of Princess Margaret)
What is the Colorado River?
What is bias?
What is the Newport Jazz Festival?
Who is Ralph Waldo Emerson?
What is 52? (the number of years between the two years the "city of angels" hosted the Olympics)
I thought that the last one, which was a Final Jeopardy category, was particularly obscure. Coming up with the answer was a three-step process. Step One was easy, knowing that Los Angeles is called the "city of angels". Step Two was harder, knowing that the Olympic Games were held in Los Angeles in 1932 and 1984. Whether you think Step Three was easy or hard depends on how well you can do subtraction in your head. Step Three, and it is essential, is the ability to subtract the first year from the second quickly without benefit of pencil and paper and coming up with the right answer, 52, in a few seconds while music is playing to mark the passage of time, and being careful to phrase it in the form of a question.
I don't want to leave the wrong impression. I am not a know-it-all, far from it. There are lots of categories on the show about which I know absolutely nothing, but I do enjoy playing Jeopardy!.
Which brings us to...
3. THE OTHER
To wrap up this fascinating post (I can hear you gagging out there in blogland), I thought we would take a look at some similes in Christian hymns. A simile, you may remember, is a comparison using the word "like" or "as". There are good ones and there are bad ones, and by "good" and "bad" I mean are they effective or not effective?
The first one is a good one, "Like A River Glorious" by Frances Ridley Havergal in 1876:
Like a river glorious is God’s perfect peace,
Over all victorious, in its bright increase;
Perfect, yet it floweth fuller every day,
Perfect, yet it groweth deeper all the way.
Refrain:
Stayed upon Jehovah, hearts are fully blest
Finding, as He promised, perfect peace and rest.
The verse is a simile likening God's peace to a river and the imagery is consistent. The refrain drops the river image and paraphrases Isaiah 26:3 instead, "Thou wilt keep him in perfect peace whose mind is stayed on Thee, because he trusteth in Thee" (KJV).
Our second example, "As The Deer", was written by Martin Nystrom in 1984 and is based on the first verse of Psalm 42:
As the deer panteth for the water
So my soul longeth after Thee
You alone are my heart's desire
And I long to worship Thee
You alone are my strength, my shield
To You alone may my spirit yield
You alone are my heart's desire
And I long to worship Thee
The simile is self-explanatory. Again, the imagery is consistent and effective. The song works.
In our third and last example, the imagery may be consistent but to my way of thinking it is not at all effective. If it was one of your granny's favorite gospel songs, I am sorry. Before we get to the song itself, here's part of what our favorite online encyclopedia says about it:
"In 1890, Charles Davis Tillman set to music a hymn by Baptist preacher M.E. Abbey, "Life's Railway to Heaven." (Abbey had drawn from an earlier poem, "The Faithful Engineer," by William Shakespeare Hays.
"Also known by its first line "Life is like a mountain railroad", the song has been recorded by Boxcar Willie, the Carter Family, the Chuck Wagon Gang, Mother Freddie J. Bell on YouTube, The Oak Ridge Boys, Tennessee Ernie Ford, Merle Haggard, Johnny Cash, Brad Paisley, Russ Taff, the Amazing Rhythm Aces, and many others. Tillman's tune is in 3/4 time, but a 4/4 version became widespread after Patsy Cline recorded it that way in 1959 as a solo; Willie Nelson later dubbed his voice into that version to form a duet. On January 14, 2012, Brad Paisley performed a 4/4 rendition as guest on Garrison Keillor's Prairie Home Companion radio program.
"Members of the Western Writers of America chose the song as one of the Top 100 Western songs of all time."
Even after such a build-up, "Life Is Like A Mountain Railroad" just doesn't work for me. Here it is:
Life is like a mountain railroad
With an engineer that's brave
We must make this run successful
From the cradle to the grave
Heed the curves and watch the tunnels
Never falter, never fail
Keep your hands upon the throttle
And your eye upon the rail
Blessed Saviour there to guide us
Till we reach that blissful shore
And the angels there to join us
In God's grace forevermore
As you roll across the trestle
Spanning Jordan's swelling tide
You will reach the Union Depot
Into which your train will ride
There you'll meet the superintendent
God the father, God the son
With a happy joyous greeting
Weary pilgrim, welcome home
Blessed Saviour there to guide us
Till we reach that blissful shore
And the angels there to join us
In God's grace forevermore
There are many Christian songs that liken death to crossing the Jordan River, but the idea of doing it in a train being pulled by a locomotive across a railroad trestle and pulling into the Union Station and being greeted by the superintendent (God the father, God the son, but no mention of God the Holy Spirit, and the last time I checked, Christianity is definitely Trinitarian) sets my teeth on edge.
Also, would that life were that simple, just remembering to keep one's hands upon the throttle and one's eye upon the rail. But let me tell you something, Gertrude, it definitely isn't.
I know this post has been extra long, and I hope you have not pulled all your hair out by the roots as you navigated your way through it. I will try to be shorter next time. I trust, as I said in the title, that it has been a cornucopia of delights.
Please try to refrain from throwing rotten tomatoes at your computer screen.
I am interested, however, in anything herein you may wish to talk about in the comments section.
While driving around town from store to store the other day, I heard a number on the car radio that I hadn't heard in a very long time. It took me back to the 1960s and my early involvement with the computer world. I'm not referring to a musical number, I'm referring to a literal number. Someone reporting on how the New York Stock Exchange was doing said that the Dow Jones Industrial Average had risen over 300 points to -- wait for it -- 32,768.
Why would I remember that particular number and why would it take me back to the early days of computing? I will tell tou why.
It equals 32K in computer-speak!
Let me explain for the uninitiated. In our physical world, K is an abbreviation for the Greek prefix kilo- and means 1,000 (as in a 10K race, 10 kilometers, 10,000 meters) but the world of computers deals internally with ones and zeroes only, 1 and 0, to indicate yes/no or off/on for each bit of information. This kind of arithmetic is called binary (base 2) because it has only two possibilities, 0 or 1. There is no 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, or 9 as in the decimal (base 10) system. In the computer world, the letter K does not mean 10 raised to the third power, it means 2 raised to the tenth power, which is 1,024 -- here's proof: 2 × 2 (or 2 squared) is 4; 2 × 2 × 2 (or 2 cubed) is 8; and so on, and the number doubles with each successive power, 16 (4th power); 32 (5th power); 64 (6th power); 128 (7th power); 256 (8th power); 512 (9th power); and voila!, 2 to the 10th power turns out to be 1,024 or 1K for short.
If you keep doing this, you find that 2K is 2,048 and 4K is 4,096 and if you keep going until you reach 2 to the 15th power you will reach 32,768 or 32K!
It seemed like old home week there for a second the other day while listening to the stock market report on the car radio!
To enlighten or confuse you further, in our physical world 1,000 × 1,000 equals 1,000,000 (one million, often abbreviated as 1M). In computer-speak, 1K × 1K is also 1M, which is an abbreviation of the Greek mega -- so far so good -- but 1M means 1,048,576 because it is 1,024 (1K, or 2 raised to the 10th power) × 1,024 (1K, or 2 raised to the 10th power). It is not 10 raised to the fourth power as in decimal, it is 2 raised to the 20th power. It is plain to see that the larger the number, the more it diverges from what our decimal-based minds may think. If we are not careful, a moon shot could miss the moon altogether.
Before we leave THIS, let me throw in two more pieces of information. After K (thousand) and M (million) come G (giga-, billion) and T (tera-, trillion). And if you go in the opposite direction, getting smaller instead of bigger, the prefixes are different: Take the unit of time called a second, for example. One-thousandth of a second is called a millisecond, one-millionth is called a microsecond, one-billionth is called a nanosecond, and one trillionth is called a picosecond. I will ignore for now the fact that billion in the U.S. is milliard in the U.K., and trillion in the U.S. is billion in the U.K.
Now that we are all completely confused, including me, let's move on to THAT.
2. THAT
Here is the latest crop of "nobody could answer but me" answers from Jeopardy! along with some of the clues:
Who is George Bernard Shaw? (the playwright who wrote Man And Superman)
What is the Bay of Fundy?
Who is Lord Snowden? (the husband of Princess Margaret)
What is the Colorado River?
What is bias?
What is the Newport Jazz Festival?
Who is Ralph Waldo Emerson?
What is 52? (the number of years between the two years the "city of angels" hosted the Olympics)
I thought that the last one, which was a Final Jeopardy category, was particularly obscure. Coming up with the answer was a three-step process. Step One was easy, knowing that Los Angeles is called the "city of angels". Step Two was harder, knowing that the Olympic Games were held in Los Angeles in 1932 and 1984. Whether you think Step Three was easy or hard depends on how well you can do subtraction in your head. Step Three, and it is essential, is the ability to subtract the first year from the second quickly without benefit of pencil and paper and coming up with the right answer, 52, in a few seconds while music is playing to mark the passage of time, and being careful to phrase it in the form of a question.
I don't want to leave the wrong impression. I am not a know-it-all, far from it. There are lots of categories on the show about which I know absolutely nothing, but I do enjoy playing Jeopardy!.
Which brings us to...
3. THE OTHER
To wrap up this fascinating post (I can hear you gagging out there in blogland), I thought we would take a look at some similes in Christian hymns. A simile, you may remember, is a comparison using the word "like" or "as". There are good ones and there are bad ones, and by "good" and "bad" I mean are they effective or not effective?
The first one is a good one, "Like A River Glorious" by Frances Ridley Havergal in 1876:
Like a river glorious is God’s perfect peace,
Over all victorious, in its bright increase;
Perfect, yet it floweth fuller every day,
Perfect, yet it groweth deeper all the way.
Refrain:
Stayed upon Jehovah, hearts are fully blest
Finding, as He promised, perfect peace and rest.
The verse is a simile likening God's peace to a river and the imagery is consistent. The refrain drops the river image and paraphrases Isaiah 26:3 instead, "Thou wilt keep him in perfect peace whose mind is stayed on Thee, because he trusteth in Thee" (KJV).
Our second example, "As The Deer", was written by Martin Nystrom in 1984 and is based on the first verse of Psalm 42:
As the deer panteth for the water
So my soul longeth after Thee
You alone are my heart's desire
And I long to worship Thee
You alone are my strength, my shield
To You alone may my spirit yield
You alone are my heart's desire
And I long to worship Thee
The simile is self-explanatory. Again, the imagery is consistent and effective. The song works.
In our third and last example, the imagery may be consistent but to my way of thinking it is not at all effective. If it was one of your granny's favorite gospel songs, I am sorry. Before we get to the song itself, here's part of what our favorite online encyclopedia says about it:
"In 1890, Charles Davis Tillman set to music a hymn by Baptist preacher M.E. Abbey, "Life's Railway to Heaven." (Abbey had drawn from an earlier poem, "The Faithful Engineer," by William Shakespeare Hays.
"Also known by its first line "Life is like a mountain railroad", the song has been recorded by Boxcar Willie, the Carter Family, the Chuck Wagon Gang, Mother Freddie J. Bell on YouTube, The Oak Ridge Boys, Tennessee Ernie Ford, Merle Haggard, Johnny Cash, Brad Paisley, Russ Taff, the Amazing Rhythm Aces, and many others. Tillman's tune is in 3/4 time, but a 4/4 version became widespread after Patsy Cline recorded it that way in 1959 as a solo; Willie Nelson later dubbed his voice into that version to form a duet. On January 14, 2012, Brad Paisley performed a 4/4 rendition as guest on Garrison Keillor's Prairie Home Companion radio program.
"Members of the Western Writers of America chose the song as one of the Top 100 Western songs of all time."
Even after such a build-up, "Life Is Like A Mountain Railroad" just doesn't work for me. Here it is:
Life is like a mountain railroad
With an engineer that's brave
We must make this run successful
From the cradle to the grave
Heed the curves and watch the tunnels
Never falter, never fail
Keep your hands upon the throttle
And your eye upon the rail
Blessed Saviour there to guide us
Till we reach that blissful shore
And the angels there to join us
In God's grace forevermore
As you roll across the trestle
Spanning Jordan's swelling tide
You will reach the Union Depot
Into which your train will ride
There you'll meet the superintendent
God the father, God the son
With a happy joyous greeting
Weary pilgrim, welcome home
Blessed Saviour there to guide us
Till we reach that blissful shore
And the angels there to join us
In God's grace forevermore
There are many Christian songs that liken death to crossing the Jordan River, but the idea of doing it in a train being pulled by a locomotive across a railroad trestle and pulling into the Union Station and being greeted by the superintendent (God the father, God the son, but no mention of God the Holy Spirit, and the last time I checked, Christianity is definitely Trinitarian) sets my teeth on edge.
Also, would that life were that simple, just remembering to keep one's hands upon the throttle and one's eye upon the rail. But let me tell you something, Gertrude, it definitely isn't.
I know this post has been extra long, and I hope you have not pulled all your hair out by the roots as you navigated your way through it. I will try to be shorter next time. I trust, as I said in the title, that it has been a cornucopia of delights.
Please try to refrain from throwing rotten tomatoes at your computer screen.
I am interested, however, in anything herein you may wish to talk about in the comments section.
Sunday, March 7, 2021
It happened again
Another of those "wake up from a sound sleep with the complete lyrics of an old song playing in my head" moments, Athena springing full-grown from the forehead of Zeus as it were, occurred this morning. Actually it was two songs this time, or, more accurately, two halves of the same song, and the song was "You're Just In Love" by Irving Berlin as sung by Ethel Merman and Russell Nype in Call Me Madam.
If there was ever any doubt, I know I am old because that song has to be 70 years old if it's a day. I remember hearing Ethel Merman and Russell Nype sing it on Ed Sullivan's Toast Of The Town program on a Sunday night on our old black-and-white, 12-inch screen, Philco television set when I was nine or 10 years old, and I was born in 1941. And there it was this morning, singing itself in my brain, complete with images of Ethel and Russell.
All the foregoing show-biz facts weredredged up typed without referring to any source. Here are the lyrics of the song, also typed sans reference to any source:
I hear singing and there's no one there
I smell blossoms and the trees are bare
All day long I seem to walk on air
I wonder why, I wonder why
I keep tossing in my sleep at night
And what's more I've lost my appetite
Stars that used to twinkle in the skies
Are twinkling in my eyes, I wonder why
You don't need analyzing,
It is not so surprising
That you feel very strange but nice
Your heart goes pitter-patter
I know just what's the matter
Because I've been there once or twice
Put your head on my shoulder
You need someone who's older
A rub-down with a velvet glove
There is nothing you can take
To relieve that pleasant ache
You're not sick, you're just in love
Back in the day, Russell Nype sang the first section and Ethel Merman sang the second section, and then they joined forces and sang their separate tunes together at the same time. And trust me, even though Russell's part had eight lines and Ethel's part had 12 lines, it all meshed together nicely and they both finished at the same time. In music I believe doing this is called counterpoint.
I would include an audio clip or perhaps even a video clip, but I think you should do some things for yourself.
I may be an idiot savant (though that term has fallen out of use) or I may just be an idiot.
And (as if you needed further proof) there is this, of course:
Here are some recent answers on Jeopardy! that I knew but which none of the real contestants could answer:
What are cargo cults?
What is Kilauea?
Who is Philip II?
What is fudge?
What is cathode?
What is Mount Rainier?
What is the Louvre?
Who is Jesse James?
Your Honor (British, Honour), I rest my case.
If there was ever any doubt, I know I am old because that song has to be 70 years old if it's a day. I remember hearing Ethel Merman and Russell Nype sing it on Ed Sullivan's Toast Of The Town program on a Sunday night on our old black-and-white, 12-inch screen, Philco television set when I was nine or 10 years old, and I was born in 1941. And there it was this morning, singing itself in my brain, complete with images of Ethel and Russell.
All the foregoing show-biz facts were
I hear singing and there's no one there
I smell blossoms and the trees are bare
All day long I seem to walk on air
I wonder why, I wonder why
I keep tossing in my sleep at night
And what's more I've lost my appetite
Stars that used to twinkle in the skies
Are twinkling in my eyes, I wonder why
You don't need analyzing,
It is not so surprising
That you feel very strange but nice
Your heart goes pitter-patter
I know just what's the matter
Because I've been there once or twice
Put your head on my shoulder
You need someone who's older
A rub-down with a velvet glove
There is nothing you can take
To relieve that pleasant ache
You're not sick, you're just in love
Back in the day, Russell Nype sang the first section and Ethel Merman sang the second section, and then they joined forces and sang their separate tunes together at the same time. And trust me, even though Russell's part had eight lines and Ethel's part had 12 lines, it all meshed together nicely and they both finished at the same time. In music I believe doing this is called counterpoint.
I would include an audio clip or perhaps even a video clip, but I think you should do some things for yourself.
I may be an idiot savant (though that term has fallen out of use) or I may just be an idiot.
And (as if you needed further proof) there is this, of course:
Here are some recent answers on Jeopardy! that I knew but which none of the real contestants could answer:
What are cargo cults?
What is Kilauea?
Who is Philip II?
What is fudge?
What is cathode?
What is Mount Rainier?
What is the Louvre?
Who is Jesse James?
Your Honor (British, Honour), I rest my case.
Saturday, January 16, 2021
Covid, Impeachment, Inauguration, Covid, Impeachment, Inauguration,...
...what to write about?
That's easy -- none of them.
Let's talk about Jeopardy! some more.
In the first "nobody buzzed in" moment of the post-Alex Trebek era on Jeopardy! that I knew the answer to, the answer was "What is a nightingale?"
The category, Words With Weather Words Inside, had included the answers What is Ukrainian? (weather word: rain) and What is barnstorming? (weather word: storm). The clue that drew silence from all three contestants was (not an exact quote) "The song of this bird is usually heard when the sky is dark" and included a sound clip of its song. It had to be nightingale (weather word: gale) and it was!
The next night there were three more:
What is Cunard? (the clue mentioned the Queen Mary)
What is Corvette? (the clue mentioned "sporty car" and Chevy)
Who is Secretariat? (the clue mentioned a horse I had never heard of and that it and this horse in 1973 were the only two to have run the Kentucky Derby in less than two minutes. In my mind I saw the old newsfilm of Secretariat increasing his big lead by several more lengths as he raced down the home stretch and neared the finish line, and the year 1973 seemed reasonable. Actually two of the three contestants did buzz in but gave wrong answers. One said Man o'War, who raced around 1920, and one said Seabiscuit, who raced in the late 1930s. They were obviously guessing but their time frames were completely off.)
I suppose I am addicted to watching Jeopardy! -- Hello, my name is Bob and I'm a trivia, I mean general knowledge addict. I do enjoy watchng it a lot but I will try to talk about it less on the blog. The last thing I want to do is drive you away.
Moving right along...
I have an announcement to make, but first I have an announcement to make.
Announcement #1 Your comments are always welcome here and I look forward to them eagerly. As the creator and editor of this blog, however, I reserve the right to decide not to publish your comment. And if I do publish your comment, I reserve the right to decide not to reply to it. In other words, you leaves your comments and you takes your chances.
Announcement #2: Oops, I see by the clock on the wall that our time has expired. The second announcement will have to wait.
I'm kidding. my second announcement is that our weather forecast is predicting snow for today.
Speaking of general knowledge, did you know that in 1920 The New York Times named Babe Ruth and Man o'War co-athletes of the year?
Note. A real trivia addict would know the name of the jockey riding Man o'War in the photograph. I have no idea who he is, but I do know that he is not Babe Ruth.
That's easy -- none of them.
Let's talk about Jeopardy! some more.
In the first "nobody buzzed in" moment of the post-Alex Trebek era on Jeopardy! that I knew the answer to, the answer was "What is a nightingale?"
The category, Words With Weather Words Inside, had included the answers What is Ukrainian? (weather word: rain) and What is barnstorming? (weather word: storm). The clue that drew silence from all three contestants was (not an exact quote) "The song of this bird is usually heard when the sky is dark" and included a sound clip of its song. It had to be nightingale (weather word: gale) and it was!
The next night there were three more:
What is Cunard? (the clue mentioned the Queen Mary)
What is Corvette? (the clue mentioned "sporty car" and Chevy)
Who is Secretariat? (the clue mentioned a horse I had never heard of and that it and this horse in 1973 were the only two to have run the Kentucky Derby in less than two minutes. In my mind I saw the old newsfilm of Secretariat increasing his big lead by several more lengths as he raced down the home stretch and neared the finish line, and the year 1973 seemed reasonable. Actually two of the three contestants did buzz in but gave wrong answers. One said Man o'War, who raced around 1920, and one said Seabiscuit, who raced in the late 1930s. They were obviously guessing but their time frames were completely off.)
I suppose I am addicted to watching Jeopardy! -- Hello, my name is Bob and I'm a trivia, I mean general knowledge addict. I do enjoy watchng it a lot but I will try to talk about it less on the blog. The last thing I want to do is drive you away.
Moving right along...
I have an announcement to make, but first I have an announcement to make.
Announcement #1 Your comments are always welcome here and I look forward to them eagerly. As the creator and editor of this blog, however, I reserve the right to decide not to publish your comment. And if I do publish your comment, I reserve the right to decide not to reply to it. In other words, you leaves your comments and you takes your chances.
Announcement #2: Oops, I see by the clock on the wall that our time has expired. The second announcement will have to wait.
I'm kidding. my second announcement is that our weather forecast is predicting snow for today.
Speaking of general knowledge, did you know that in 1920 The New York Times named Babe Ruth and Man o'War co-athletes of the year?
Thursday, March 19, 2020
Lo, how the mighty are fallen, or I am not always right
First things first: On this day -- March 19, 2020 -- the vernal equinox will take place for most of the Americas. It will occur at 11:50 pm Eastern Daylight Time, ten minutes before tomorrow comes. The rest of the world will see its arrival in the early hours of March 20 because of a little thing called time zones. This year's vernal equinox happens to be the earliest it has occurred in 124 years.
My barber calls me a walking enyclopedia.
I hope people don't find me annoying. If I encountered me, I probably would be annoyed. I do know a lot of stuff, mostly trivia. I don't study it or learn it on purpose, it’s just that things I hear or read seem to get stuck in my memory banks. My theme song ought to be "You're Easy To Remember, But So Hard To Forget."
However, there are big gaps in my memory banks, subjects about which I know very little and subject about which I know absolutely nothing. I try to avoid those subjects as much as possible because I don't want my abysmal ignorance in certain areas to be on display.
One of my favorite television programs is Jeopardy! with Alex Trebek. I love to call out the answers and many times I am right, but many times I don't have a clue. Well, they give me a clue, but it doesn't help.
What stuns me are the times I know the answer or make an educated guess based on the clue and not one of the three Jeopardy! players presses a buzzer. In recent days I have found myself yelling "Haile Selassie!" and "Tweedledum and Tweedledee!" and "Singapore Sling!" at the screen, but the contestants never seem to hear me. By way of explanation, I am not a drinker, but I am, as I said, a reader and a listener. The category was Alliterative Two-Word Names Of Alcoholic Drinks and the clue, which was most helpful, mentioned the Malayan peninsula, so what else could it have been? One contestant guessed Rob Roy but the last time I looked, Scotland was not on the Malayan peninsula.
The Final Jeopardy question the other night was something about a movie studio's high water bill during filming of a movie in 1952. I said Singing In The Rain (one of those "What else could it be?" moments) and two people answered correctly, but one woman had written down The Wizard Of Oz. Everybody knows that The Wizard Of Oz was released in 1939, not 1952. Don't they? Apparently not.
This is long and meandering, but I'll get to the point eventually.
Yesterday our 23-year-old grandson drove us 20 miles to my monthly eye appointment so that I could have another injection in my right eye for macular degeneration. Normally I can do the driving, but this month I was scheduled to have my eyes dilated, and it would have been rather difficult to drive the 20 miles back home with my eyes dilated.
On the way I was telling him that last month I was examined by a new technician who told me his name was Mel. Tall, thin, and black, Mel spoke with an accent I couldn't identify. He told me without my even asking that Mel was short for Melchizedek. I recognized the name from the story of Abraham in the book of Genesis in the Old Testament, so I assumed he came from a Christian family. I asked him where he had come to the U.S. from and he said he had spent the last five years in the U.K., but that he was from Ghana originally.
At this point, my grandson said, "Oh, Ghana! That makes sense that he went to the U.K. because Ghana is part of the British Commonwealth of Nations."
I, the family walking encyclopedia/know-it-all, said, "No, I don't think Ghana is one of the British Commonwealth nations."
My grandson said he must be thinking of another country starting with G.
I knew it couldn't be Gibraltar because Gibraltar is a British Overseas Territory, not a Commonwealth nation, so I, being my ever-clever self, said, "Gaustralia!". He laughed, and when I said "Ganada!" he laughed even more. My third possibility was G-New Zealand. "And it's still pronounced New Zealand," he said, "because the G is silent!"
We always laugh a lot when we're together.
Hours later, back home, in the evening, something made me google British Commonwealth of Nations. There it was, plain as day: Ghana.
I pulled out my smart phone and texted my grandson. "I'm only going to say this once. You were right and I was wrong! Ghana IS a member of the British Commonwealth of Nations. I looked it up."
He replied, "Be still my beating heart! I never thought this day would come. HaHa".
My mother used to say, "Pride goeth before a fall" which is also from the Old Testament (Book of Proverbs). It's not an exact quotation. The full quote is "Pride goeth before destruction, and a haughty spirit before a fall."
My hope is that I am neither proud nor haughty even though others are always telling me how much I know. What I know is how much I don't know. No, that's wrong. I don't have a clue how much I don't know, but I'm sure it's voluminous.
If you catch me getting proud or haughty, you have my permission to sneak up on me and kick me in the behind.
My barber calls me a walking enyclopedia.
I hope people don't find me annoying. If I encountered me, I probably would be annoyed. I do know a lot of stuff, mostly trivia. I don't study it or learn it on purpose, it’s just that things I hear or read seem to get stuck in my memory banks. My theme song ought to be "You're Easy To Remember, But So Hard To Forget."
However, there are big gaps in my memory banks, subjects about which I know very little and subject about which I know absolutely nothing. I try to avoid those subjects as much as possible because I don't want my abysmal ignorance in certain areas to be on display.
One of my favorite television programs is Jeopardy! with Alex Trebek. I love to call out the answers and many times I am right, but many times I don't have a clue. Well, they give me a clue, but it doesn't help.
What stuns me are the times I know the answer or make an educated guess based on the clue and not one of the three Jeopardy! players presses a buzzer. In recent days I have found myself yelling "Haile Selassie!" and "Tweedledum and Tweedledee!" and "Singapore Sling!" at the screen, but the contestants never seem to hear me. By way of explanation, I am not a drinker, but I am, as I said, a reader and a listener. The category was Alliterative Two-Word Names Of Alcoholic Drinks and the clue, which was most helpful, mentioned the Malayan peninsula, so what else could it have been? One contestant guessed Rob Roy but the last time I looked, Scotland was not on the Malayan peninsula.
The Final Jeopardy question the other night was something about a movie studio's high water bill during filming of a movie in 1952. I said Singing In The Rain (one of those "What else could it be?" moments) and two people answered correctly, but one woman had written down The Wizard Of Oz. Everybody knows that The Wizard Of Oz was released in 1939, not 1952. Don't they? Apparently not.
This is long and meandering, but I'll get to the point eventually.
Yesterday our 23-year-old grandson drove us 20 miles to my monthly eye appointment so that I could have another injection in my right eye for macular degeneration. Normally I can do the driving, but this month I was scheduled to have my eyes dilated, and it would have been rather difficult to drive the 20 miles back home with my eyes dilated.
On the way I was telling him that last month I was examined by a new technician who told me his name was Mel. Tall, thin, and black, Mel spoke with an accent I couldn't identify. He told me without my even asking that Mel was short for Melchizedek. I recognized the name from the story of Abraham in the book of Genesis in the Old Testament, so I assumed he came from a Christian family. I asked him where he had come to the U.S. from and he said he had spent the last five years in the U.K., but that he was from Ghana originally.
At this point, my grandson said, "Oh, Ghana! That makes sense that he went to the U.K. because Ghana is part of the British Commonwealth of Nations."
I, the family walking encyclopedia/know-it-all, said, "No, I don't think Ghana is one of the British Commonwealth nations."
My grandson said he must be thinking of another country starting with G.
I knew it couldn't be Gibraltar because Gibraltar is a British Overseas Territory, not a Commonwealth nation, so I, being my ever-clever self, said, "Gaustralia!". He laughed, and when I said "Ganada!" he laughed even more. My third possibility was G-New Zealand. "And it's still pronounced New Zealand," he said, "because the G is silent!"
We always laugh a lot when we're together.
Hours later, back home, in the evening, something made me google British Commonwealth of Nations. There it was, plain as day: Ghana.
I pulled out my smart phone and texted my grandson. "I'm only going to say this once. You were right and I was wrong! Ghana IS a member of the British Commonwealth of Nations. I looked it up."
He replied, "Be still my beating heart! I never thought this day would come. HaHa".
My mother used to say, "Pride goeth before a fall" which is also from the Old Testament (Book of Proverbs). It's not an exact quotation. The full quote is "Pride goeth before destruction, and a haughty spirit before a fall."
My hope is that I am neither proud nor haughty even though others are always telling me how much I know. What I know is how much I don't know. No, that's wrong. I don't have a clue how much I don't know, but I'm sure it's voluminous.
If you catch me getting proud or haughty, you have my permission to sneak up on me and kick me in the behind.
Monday, November 19, 2018
American History ain't what it used to be (a tragedy in three acts)
As they say in England, I was gobsmacked. Or as they say in the U.S., I was flabbergasted. Or as they said in earlier times, I was astounded.
'About what?' you might be asking (and if you're not, move along, please, and make room for the others).
I will tell you about what.
American History. More specifically, the apparent lack of teaching about American history in the schools of today.
What got me all worked up was an episode of Jeopardy! on the telly a couple of nights ago.
It was Teen Tournamemt week on Jeopardy! during which some very bright 16-to-18-year-year-old contestants work their way through a series of quarter-final games, semi-final games, and two days of final games until a winner emerges. It is important to be the winner, because the winner gets to take home $100,000 USD. As it says up there in the title of the post, this is a tragedy in three acts, so I'll give you three examples of what should be commonly known facts about which these bright teenagers didn't have a clue.
Act I. During a semi-final game, the contestants were Maya (a senior from Peachtree City, Georgia), Caleb (a sophomore from someplace I don't recall), and Joe, I think his name was (a senior from San Diego, California). All three of them were displaying their knowledge on a variety of subjects, handily offering up their answers, always in the form of a question, such as names of sitcoms (What is The Big Bang Theory? What is Friends?), hip-hop and rap artists (we won't even go there), and tidbits of science and other subjects (What is thermodynamics? What is synecdoche?). Their abject ignorance of American history didn't surface until someone chose that category.
One question had to do with the dispute between Britain and the United States over the boundary of the Oregon Territory in the nineteenth century. It was finally resolved peacefully by setting the border between the U.S. and Canada at the 49th parallel, but not before candidate for U.S. President James Knox Polk campaigned on his willingness to go to war with Britain over the boundary if necessary. I don't remember the exact wording of the question but it was something like "This or fight became a political slogan in a dispute during the 1840s over the northern border of the Oregon Territory". Silence. No one buzzed in. Finally, just before the time expired, the young man from San Diego buzzed in and said, almost asked, "Forty-four?" and Alex Trebek said, 'No'. As every red-blooded student of nineteenth-century goings on should know, the correct answer is "Fifty-four Forty" meaning 54 degrees, 40 minutes North latitude. The disputed area (the area between 49 degrees North latitude and 54° 40' North latitude) is now known, friends, as the Canadian province of British Columbia. All's well that ends well, as someone once said (William Shakespeare, 1604).
Okay, that one was fairly esoteric unless you are an American History nut like me. So I relegated it to minor status and continued watching the show. One of the contestants then correctly identified the person who said 'Give me liberty or give me death' with the answer 'Who is Patrick Henry?' and I felt that hope was not lost.
I was wrong.
Act II. A few minutes later, someone chose the last remaining question in the category of American History, and Alex Trebek read the revealed fact: This man hoped that America would always have a government of the people, by the people, and for the people.
Easy peasy. The last line of the most famous speech in America's history, Abraham Lincoln's Gettysburg Address.
Silence. After a few seconds, Caleb buzzed in and said, 'Who is Thomas Jefferson?' When Alex said 'No', Joe from San Diego buzzed in and said, 'Who is Benjamin Franklin?'
Alex said 'No' again. Maya just stood there and never buzzed in at all.
Gobsmacked is too mild a term for how I felt. I found it very difficult to believe what I had just witnessed. These were not poor students, drop-out material. These were among the best and brightest our country has to offer. I was in shock. I was disillusioned. I was heartbroken. Not only was I gobsmacked, I felt like a resident of Pompeii on that day in 79AD when Mt. Vesuvius erupted.
Let us move on to Act III.
Act III. As luck would have it, the category of the Final Jeopardy question was the American Revolutionary Era, and the fact turned out to be this:
The Quakers turned her out in 1773 when she married an upholsterer and took over management of his business.
I solved it by examining the clue. The word Quakers fairly screams Pennsylvania (William Penn and all that). Upholsterers deal with the sewing of heavy cloth. The answer had to be Betsy Ross of Philadelphia (the largest city in Pennsylvania, the place where the Quakers lived), the woman who supposedly made the first American flag for General George Washington. I say supposedly because that seems to be a myth that has been debunked. Besides, what other prominent women of the American Revolutionary Era were there? Martha Washington's husband was not an upholsterer, nor was Abigail Adams's, nor was Dolly Madison's. Paul Revere was a silversmith, so his wife was off the list as well.
The familiar music played as the seconds ticked by, and soon it was time to reveal the answers. Caleb and Joe wrote nothing. When Alex Trebek said that Maya wrote the right answer, Betsy Ross, Maya exclaimed in disbelief, "I did??" and walked away as champion of the day, $25,000 richer.
Earlier in the week, in the same category, other teen contestants had not been able to identify American presidents from pictures of them, including Dwight Eisenhower, Harry Truman, Andrew Jackson, and Lyndon Johnson, although someone did correctly identify Franklin D. Roosevelt.
To put this post in perspective for readers in the British Isles and the British Commonwealth of Nations, it's unthinkable, rather like not knowing who Queen Victoria was.
What shall we say to these students?
The fault, dear Brutus, is not in themselves; it is in the American education system. Apparently the exposure of young minds to what went before has been deemed unimportant and unnecessary.
We may all live to regret that decision.
'About what?' you might be asking (and if you're not, move along, please, and make room for the others).
I will tell you about what.
American History. More specifically, the apparent lack of teaching about American history in the schools of today.
What got me all worked up was an episode of Jeopardy! on the telly a couple of nights ago.
It was Teen Tournamemt week on Jeopardy! during which some very bright 16-to-18-year-year-old contestants work their way through a series of quarter-final games, semi-final games, and two days of final games until a winner emerges. It is important to be the winner, because the winner gets to take home $100,000 USD. As it says up there in the title of the post, this is a tragedy in three acts, so I'll give you three examples of what should be commonly known facts about which these bright teenagers didn't have a clue.
Act I. During a semi-final game, the contestants were Maya (a senior from Peachtree City, Georgia), Caleb (a sophomore from someplace I don't recall), and Joe, I think his name was (a senior from San Diego, California). All three of them were displaying their knowledge on a variety of subjects, handily offering up their answers, always in the form of a question, such as names of sitcoms (What is The Big Bang Theory? What is Friends?), hip-hop and rap artists (we won't even go there), and tidbits of science and other subjects (What is thermodynamics? What is synecdoche?). Their abject ignorance of American history didn't surface until someone chose that category.
One question had to do with the dispute between Britain and the United States over the boundary of the Oregon Territory in the nineteenth century. It was finally resolved peacefully by setting the border between the U.S. and Canada at the 49th parallel, but not before candidate for U.S. President James Knox Polk campaigned on his willingness to go to war with Britain over the boundary if necessary. I don't remember the exact wording of the question but it was something like "This or fight became a political slogan in a dispute during the 1840s over the northern border of the Oregon Territory". Silence. No one buzzed in. Finally, just before the time expired, the young man from San Diego buzzed in and said, almost asked, "Forty-four?" and Alex Trebek said, 'No'. As every red-blooded student of nineteenth-century goings on should know, the correct answer is "Fifty-four Forty" meaning 54 degrees, 40 minutes North latitude. The disputed area (the area between 49 degrees North latitude and 54° 40' North latitude) is now known, friends, as the Canadian province of British Columbia. All's well that ends well, as someone once said (William Shakespeare, 1604).
Okay, that one was fairly esoteric unless you are an American History nut like me. So I relegated it to minor status and continued watching the show. One of the contestants then correctly identified the person who said 'Give me liberty or give me death' with the answer 'Who is Patrick Henry?' and I felt that hope was not lost.
I was wrong.
Act II. A few minutes later, someone chose the last remaining question in the category of American History, and Alex Trebek read the revealed fact: This man hoped that America would always have a government of the people, by the people, and for the people.
Easy peasy. The last line of the most famous speech in America's history, Abraham Lincoln's Gettysburg Address.
Silence. After a few seconds, Caleb buzzed in and said, 'Who is Thomas Jefferson?' When Alex said 'No', Joe from San Diego buzzed in and said, 'Who is Benjamin Franklin?'
Alex said 'No' again. Maya just stood there and never buzzed in at all.
Gobsmacked is too mild a term for how I felt. I found it very difficult to believe what I had just witnessed. These were not poor students, drop-out material. These were among the best and brightest our country has to offer. I was in shock. I was disillusioned. I was heartbroken. Not only was I gobsmacked, I felt like a resident of Pompeii on that day in 79AD when Mt. Vesuvius erupted.
Let us move on to Act III.
Act III. As luck would have it, the category of the Final Jeopardy question was the American Revolutionary Era, and the fact turned out to be this:
The Quakers turned her out in 1773 when she married an upholsterer and took over management of his business.
I solved it by examining the clue. The word Quakers fairly screams Pennsylvania (William Penn and all that). Upholsterers deal with the sewing of heavy cloth. The answer had to be Betsy Ross of Philadelphia (the largest city in Pennsylvania, the place where the Quakers lived), the woman who supposedly made the first American flag for General George Washington. I say supposedly because that seems to be a myth that has been debunked. Besides, what other prominent women of the American Revolutionary Era were there? Martha Washington's husband was not an upholsterer, nor was Abigail Adams's, nor was Dolly Madison's. Paul Revere was a silversmith, so his wife was off the list as well.
The familiar music played as the seconds ticked by, and soon it was time to reveal the answers. Caleb and Joe wrote nothing. When Alex Trebek said that Maya wrote the right answer, Betsy Ross, Maya exclaimed in disbelief, "I did??" and walked away as champion of the day, $25,000 richer.
Earlier in the week, in the same category, other teen contestants had not been able to identify American presidents from pictures of them, including Dwight Eisenhower, Harry Truman, Andrew Jackson, and Lyndon Johnson, although someone did correctly identify Franklin D. Roosevelt.
To put this post in perspective for readers in the British Isles and the British Commonwealth of Nations, it's unthinkable, rather like not knowing who Queen Victoria was.
What shall we say to these students?
The fault, dear Brutus, is not in themselves; it is in the American education system. Apparently the exposure of young minds to what went before has been deemed unimportant and unnecessary.
We may all live to regret that decision.
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