It seemed like a good idea at the time:
It should have worked. I mean, I’ve dropped stuff down in there that couldn’t be found for months.
Maybe this needs to go to the next level:
Surely he won’t give up that easily.
It seemed like a good idea at the time:
It should have worked. I mean, I’ve dropped stuff down in there that couldn’t be found for months.
Maybe this needs to go to the next level:
Surely he won’t give up that easily.
The database also can track the most gender-neutral name of the decade. With Rooney, a baby with this name is only 0.29% more likely to be a baby girl than a baby boy. Other gender-neutral names include Clarke, Amory, and Cypress.
I concede that none of those names triggers any gender-related thoughts in the back of my mind. (Maybe Cypress, since there are a lot of traditionally feminine names derived from flora, such as, well, Flora.) What I’m wondering is whether there’s any tendency for gender-neutral names to remain gender-neutral; Kelly seems to be holding on, but Carol and Beverly have gone almost entirely female. I recall one case where two Kellys wed, one man and one woman, though they eventually split up. Then again, “Taylor,” almost certainly due to Taylor Swift, is likely destined for Girls Only, and her brief dalliance with Taylor Lautner probably doesn’t matter in this weird calculus.
And what of Rooney, anyway? We all know Rooney Mara, and we also know her older sister Kate. What we tend to overlook is that they have the same middle name: “Rooney,” likely for Art Rooney, their great-grandfather on their mother’s side, founder of the Pittsburgh Steelers. (Tim Mara, great-grandfather on their father’s side, founded the New York football Giants; his son Wellington co-owned the Giants for many years.) Anyway, Kate’s first name is actually “Kate”; Rooney’s is “Patricia.”
Oh, and Roger has a sister named Leslie, which is also fairly gender-neutral, though if you spell it “Lesley,” you’re almost certainly a girl.
I really expected my auto-insurance premium to nudge up a notch or so this time, mainly because this renewal period includes my 65th birthday, and reaching 65 is allegedly the inverse of reaching 25, when beleaguered males of the species finally get something of a price break.
It didn’t happen. The bill for six months’ worth of coverage is exactly the same as it was six months ago; every single coverage is unchanged in price.
I’m not complaining. But I may be a trifle worried come November.
“Is there any chance the gate will hold back the lava flow?”
“No. No chance at all.”
Every few years, a buzz fills the air in the southeastern United States as adolescent cicadas crawl out from the soil to molt and make babies. After a childhood spent sipping tree sap underground, some species emerge every 13 years, others every 17 years, rarely overlapping. Yet somehow in this giant cicada orgy, hybridization happens between species that should be out of sync.
Researchers have sought to explain how the two life cycle lengths developed. A new study published online April 19 in Communications Biology fails to pin the difference on genetics, but finds some interesting things along the way.
Cicadas fall into three species groups that diverged from one another about 3.9 million to 2.5 million years ago. Within each of those groups, species on a 13-year schedule diverged from 17-year-cycle cicadas about 200,000 to 100,000 years ago, the researchers from the United States and Japan report.
But the researchers also found that the 17-year and 13-year broods within each group share genetic code — evidence of hybridization.
Of course, outside the Eastern time zone, cicadas don’t give a flip about the calendar.
And, I hasten to add, not native to the United States:
This is a real tree placard at the Brooklyn Botanical Garden and I’ve been keeping it to myself for far too long pic.twitter.com/hNwXN8tUcm
— vegetarian librarian (@celesteleighb) April 12, 2018
The tree in question comes from, yes, the Caucasian region, though seeds were brought to western Europe circa 1800.
(Via Nancy Friedman.)
You don’t really want to say anything nice about cockroaches, but let’s face it: they’re resilient little bastards. As witness:
The American cockroach is fast, moving at a rate of 50 body lengths per second. When racing across the floor to avoid a predator, a cockroach may aim for a wall and take it headfirst. Such a collision should stun the bug, but they have a shock-absorbent body that not only protects them from damage, it also allows them to channel that momentum into actually crawling up the wall.
Researchers sent 18 male cockroaches running on a paper-lined surface that ended in a wall. They filmed them with high-speed video at a rate of 500 frames per second and some motion tracking software to see how the bugs made it up the wall. Both of these were important because, to the naked eye, the roaches appear to scurry up the wall without missing a step. They just appear to effortlessly change from a horizontal dash to a vertical one.
Once the researchers looked at the footage, however, they discovered that the roaches would rather ram their heads right into the wall, absorb the force, bounce to a climbing angle and continue scurrying. This method was used 80 percent of the time. The rest of the time, the roaches angled themselves up a bit before colliding with the wall, resulting in a slower approach.
Let’s see Keith Richards try that.
Mental Floss — it looks like they got rid of the underscore in the middle — has put out a list of “25 Unexpected, Brilliant Uses for Bubble Wrap,” and there’s some serious ingenuity therein. Number 20, for instance, deer repellent:
If deer keep invading your garden, it’s time to roll out the wrap. Instead of using deer netting, which is often a hazard for insects and birds, lay Bubble Wrap at garden entry points (stapling it to plywood can prevent flyaway situations). When covered with grass, hay, or leaves, this camouflaged deterrent will spook deer that attempt to cross it.
What’s the inverse of serious ingenuity? This:
Getting freaky, indeed.
It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a normal cat, a member of the family Felidae, will not grow up to be one of the Flying Wallendas.
That knowledge does not prepare you for this:
No drunk in a midnight choir ever tried this. I hope.
The deer has never seen a creature quite like this before:
Relatively satisfied with the results, the deer moves on.
“This guy,” I said recently of a plumber, “gets $100 an hour.”
This girl doesn’t, but then she’s not installing a whole-house (well, a half-whole-house) filtration system:
What are the chances that I’d have a spout like that?
The image, by photographer Bob Gruen, is from the 1978 session that produced the Walls and Bridges LP jacket. Apparently, what with the “FOREVER” logo, this is a standard-priced first-class stamp.
I almost called this “Totality Achieved,” since I wrecked my car this summer, and Unblinking Insurance declared the ancient Japanese sled a total loss. Unwilling to accept this verdict, I reacquired the vehicle from them and had the appropriate body repairs done.
I puzzled for a while as to what I should do with my existing insurance policy: obviously there’s no point in continuing to pay for collision coverage, but the other coverages are likely to cost more, because — duh! — I’d just had a wreck. And this week, when the renewal arrived, I judged it to be pretty much a wash: for the next six months I’ll pay an extra $60. If this sounds like a lot to you, you probably aren’t carrying the absurd level of coverage I do.
Usually this is the point where I detail how much each component of the policy went up or down. But inasmuch as this event constitutes a major change, the new numbers are, in my view, no longer statistically significant. So I’m declaring a new baseline, and we’ll see what happens in May. For the moment, I’m grateful for not having being dropped entirely.
First there was Sean John Combs. At some point he became Puff Daddy, then simply Puffy; later on, he declared himself P. Diddy, eventually truncated to Diddy.
Lot of names for a young man. And on his 48th birthday, he changed once more:
I decided to change my name again!
— Sean Diddy Combs (@diddy) November 4, 2017
I’m not saying this won’t last long: past performance is no guarantee of future results. For the record, though, he’s still @Diddy on Twitter — for now.
“The cactus is our friend,” sang Maria Muldaur in “Midnight at the Oasis.” Not if you’re a hawk who happened to get stuck:
I’m trying to imagine the editing job it took to get this down to less than a minute forty. “We got 99 seconds, and this bird” — well, you get the idea.
(Speaking of editing, or the lack thereof, our Bird Healer tosses several F-bombs and such, which are duly reproduced in the captions. You have been warned.)
This was the old Kosciuszko Bridge, connecting Brooklyn and Queens. (The first span of its replacement was opened this past spring.) By the time you read this, all that remains will be a whole lot of rubble.
At noon yesterday, this announcement was made:
Tomorrow, 10/1, the NYS Department of Transportation will conduct an implosion of the old Kosciuszko Bridge between Brooklyn and Queens. The work will involve the use of explosives and will consist of warning sirens followed by a loud explosion at approximately 8:00 AM.
Motorists and pedestrians should expect traffic disruptions in the immediate area surrounding the bridge beginning tonight at approximately 10:00 PM. In addition, traffic on the Brooklyn Queens Expressway over the new Kosciuszko Bridge will be temporarily stopped in both directions shortly before and after the implosion. Please use alternate routes on Sunday, 10/1 if possible.
It will be demolished using a process called energetic felling, which requires the placement of little charges at key joints on the bridge so that when the charges go off, the bridge breaks apart and falls directly down. The pieces will then be dismantled and removed.
About 22 million pounds of steel from the demolition will be recycled as scrap metal, according to [Governor] Cuomo’s office.
The old bridge, opened in 1939, was designed for 10,000 vehicles a day. When it closed this past April, it was somehow carrying 180,000.
(Via Kevin J. Walsh.)
Though researchers working in the Solomon Islands have suspected the existence of the vika for two decades, the rat found by [Tyrone] Lavery and his colleagues John Vendi and Hikuna Judge is the first specimen recorded by scientists. They spotted it scurrying out of a felled tree, and judging by the shape of its skull, could tell that it wasn’t like other species of rats native to the area. Before its discovery, Lavery had spent so long looking for the elusive rat that he was beginning to think that maybe the children’s rhymes and folk songs referencing vika were just referring to regular black rats.
But his first instinct was correct. Uromys vika is more than four times the size of a regular rat, measuring about 18 inches long. It lives in trees, and its teeth are strong enough to crack into coconuts, chewing circular holes in the shells to reach the meat inside.
This is enough to cause nightmares. Me, I’m looking for dreams without so much rat in them.
This young coyote was in the wrong place at the wrong time:
And, well, they couldn’t just leave him there.
A recent mental floss piece on underrated dog breeds includes these uncommon hounds:
Soon, the Otterhound may join the ranks of the Paisley Terrier and Braque du Puy as an extinct dog breed. Fewer than 1000 of the rough-coated hounds are presently accounted for, making the breed rarer than the Giant Panda.
Their origins can be traced back to Medieval England. During that time, most English families relied on stream-caught fish as a dietary cornerstone. Any decline in the local fish stock could spell disaster for entire communities — so, naturally, carnivorous river otters weren’t too popular. Enter the Otterhound. Bred with webbed feet and powerful tails that could act as rudders, the dogs were great amphibious hunters. Also, their keen sense of smell made them expert otter-trackers. (Other traits are less utilitarian: Many keepers have commented that otterhounds have a habit of sleeping with all four paws in the air.) When the English government banned otter-hunting in 1982, the breed became scarce and its long-term survival is now very uncertain. As owner Betsy Conway put it to The New York Times, “You’re talking about an ancient breed that no longer has a job.”
Here, Ms Conway shows you one of these critters:
I’ve seen only one Otterhound in my entire life, and that was a quarter-century ago. Six of them made it to Westminster this year.
Of the 189 breeds currently recognized by the American Kennel Club, the Otterhound ranks 160th, meaning there are 30 breeds even rarer, at least according to their records. Of the three at the bottom, two are foxhounds, in American and English versions. You don’t see a lot of fox hunting these days, either.
I have something to say to all those people who made a point of declaring their lack of interest: Nobody is impressed with you and nobody cares what you think. Just shut up and go on with your sad, pathetic little lives and leave the joyful people alone.
I did watch some of the coverage on TV. It was nice to have a couple of hours when the country was focused on something besides politics. And you know, we could do that on any day — focus on something else, at least for a while. Most of us ignore the common, everyday wonders. Our sense of wonder and joy in nature are only awakened when a rare event occurs but there are wonders all around us all the time. I know that sounds like a cliche but it’s true and if we don’t, at least occasionally, slow down and enjoy those wonders we are not much different from those pathetic people who felt compelled to tell everyone that the eclipse was not a big deal.
If you don’t stop and smell the roses, what are you going to do when there are no roses?
Mayor Ted Wheeler today announced that he has selected Danielle Outlaw to become the next Chief of the Portland Police Bureau.
Outlaw is a 19-year veteran of the Oakland Police Department, where she served as a Deputy Chief since 2013. Outlaw will be formally introduced at a press conference on Thursday, August 10.
This file photo shows her in the uniform of the Oakland PD, in fact.
During the selection process, Mayor Wheeler emphasized the qualities he wants in a police chief, based upon the principles of President Obama’s Task Force on 21st Century Policing. The Mayor selected Outlaw based on her ability to provide leadership and supervision to over 950 sworn and 270 non-sworn employees, to work effectively with diverse communities, and to lead an organization committed to community policing, transparency and accountability.
I read her bio, and she served in several positions in the Oakland PD before being named Deputy Chief. I have every reason to think she’ll do a fine job, and I wish her well.
But needless to say, I’m not going to pass up an opportunity for a post title like this.
And not one of you had better try to give her rack a turn, either.
“I should have changed that stupid lock, I should have made you leave your key.” — Gloria Gaynor, “I Will Survive”
Here’s how to do the first part of that:
How you persuade someone to leave a key presumably comes much later.
It reaches from the tip of his tail to the very end of time, and back again:
If there’s a lesson in this, it’s that none of us, human, canine, or whatever, is a blank slate; we are the product of what we have done and what has been done to us.
Actually, there’s nothing wrong with your iguana; it’s just your time of the month. Dr. Beth Breitweiser, a veterinarian at All Wild Things Exotic Hospital in Indianapolis, explains to Broadly:
“We recommend you don’t handle male iguanas during menstruation,” warned Breitweiser. While iguanas are usually very calm pets, they have been known to attack their owners that are menstruating. Breitweiser attributes these attacks to their owner’s changed pheromonal odor and the iguana’s characteristic stoicism that makes the reptiles hard to read. “Because they’re stoic, you can’t really tell if iguanas love their owners. I have anecdotal evidence that they love their owners, such as when they change colors or recognize their owners,” Breitweiser explained. “But some get males aggressive for whatever reason with these different pheromone levels. Especially if you’re at eye level.”
And “aggressive” may be just the beginning:
In Male Iguanas in Breeding Season and Human Females by Melissa Kaplan, author of Iguanas for Dummies, we learn that not only do iguanas attack menstruating women, but they also attempt to mate with them. Kaplan explains that some iguanas have special organs that can detect a menstruating woman’s hormones, and that these abilities might lead them to feel they’ve detected a mate: their unsuspecting female owners.
Scary stuff, this.
PSA: Wikipedia sez don’t stuff beans up your nose.
Remarkably, they do sez that:
In our zeal to head off others’ unwise action, we may put forth ideas they have not entertained before. It may be wise not to caution against such possibilities. Prophylactic admonition may trigger novel mischief. As the popular saying goes, “don’t give ’em any ideas”. In other words, don’t give examples of how to cause disruption (e.g., don’t click on this link or you’ll crash Wikipedia) because this
maywill actually tempt people to do it.
This principle even works with no nose at all:
This was the second hit by the Singers, who’d charted earlier in 1964 with “Don’t Let the Rain Come Down (Crooked Little Man).” It made Top 30, barely.
A local medical group sent me a flyer on behalf of one of their member physicians, who apparently is taking new patients. I was curious enough to pull up their Web site, and across the very bottom was the de rigueur Notice of Nondiscrimination. And by gum, they want you to be able to read it:
You’ll probably have to embiggen it — click on it to blow it up to twice the size — to read all of those. My browser blew off the Burmese, rendering it as a row of ten squares. And the Cherokee entry is not rendered in the standard Cherokee syllabary, but in a phoneticized version. I guess I’m surprised they didn’t give us a version in Esperanto. (Not that we have any native speakers of Esperanto in the neighborhood.)
Six months ago, I got my newly-increased auto-insurance bill; five months ago, I was advised of a decrease (by $24.70) in the semiannual premium. I figured the next time around, they’d raise it back to the previous amount.
Well, they didn’t. It’s just the same as the final version of the last bill. It’s still a trifle pricey; but then, being a defensive person by nature, I tend to load up on the coverages.
Daytime television has long counted on trade schools to fill up commercial slots, and of late I’ve been seeing spots for something called National American University, a name I assumed was chosen for the sake of sheer vagueness. Apparently this is not at all the case:
National American University was established in 1941 as a one-year secretarial school by Clarence Jacobson. It was called National College of Business and was located in a downtown Rapid City building. In 1960, Jacobson had the building that now houses administration for the Rapid City campus constructed at 321 Kansas City Street and moved National College to that location.
In 1962, NCB was acquired by Harold D. Buckingham and members of his family. Shortly after the Buckinghams purchased the school, a period of growth began which led to the construction of the classroom buildings, dormitories, a library, gymnasium, and an auditorium.
NCB was granted collegiate accreditation as a junior college by the Accrediting Commission of the Association of Independent Colleges and Schools in 1966. Senior college accreditation was granted in 1970.
Onward and upward:
In 1985, NCB earned accreditation by the North Central Association of Colleges and Schools and in 1997 the university name was changed to National American University.
NAU has several remote campuses, including Wichita and Tulsa. The name, however, still sounds seriously generic, as though they were trying to get away with something, and some people resist the idea of for-profit schools on general principle. Probably why the stock is sitting around $2.50 and market cap around $60 million.
Just across town:
— Tru by Hilton (@TrubyHilton) April 21, 2017
Hilton spent about $4 million on this 86-room facility, five miles north of Will Rogers World Airport at 802 S. Meridian. The target market, apparently, is the Millennial on a budget — and aren’t all Millennials on a budget?
Picture a Quality Inn or a Comfort Inn with a makeover along the lines of an Ace hotel, without the hipster restaurants, and you may have Tru by Hilton, which features bright colors, a lobby designed with areas for eating, playing games, working and lounging and efficiently designed guest rooms.
“The rooms got smaller and the lobby got bigger,” said Phil Cordell, global head of Hilton Worldwide’s focused service brands, highlighting the social aspects of the new concept.
The goal was to create rooms of 228 square feet with “clever” bathrooms. The brand uses platform beds instead of box springs and uses a landing zone where guests can place their luggage and hang their clothes rather than a dresser. Hilton realized that they could shrink the width of the room from the typical 12 feet to 10 feet because typically the TV cabinet would take up 2 feet, but with flat screen TV’s the space could be spared. The desk … to be used is a portable chair attached to a table allowing the guest to use the chair wherever they want in the room.
The Tru by Hilton in McDonough, Georgia was the first to break ground, but the Oklahoma City location is the first to open. And on Day One, yes, there was a food truck out front:
— The Saucee Sicilian (@SauceeSicilian) April 22, 2017
Right on target.