I admit that I can sometimes be a curmudgeon. On some matters I can be quite conservative. I think the designated hitter is an affront to the game of baseball, for example. But I am especially curmudgeonly about language. One of the things that grinds my gears the hardest is made-up words. Continue reading “Stop With The Made-up Words”
Yesterday, as I was waiting for the train, I leaned against a column at the station and recognized it to be of the Ionic style of columns. From somewhere deep within the recesses of my brain I recalled the 3 basic styles of columns: Doric, Ionic and Corinthian. We had been forced to memorize these in elementary school for reasons that escape me to this day. Perhaps the curriculum was a vestigial remnant of the classical education. Rather than teach us Latin or Greek, they taught us about columns instead. Maybe thinking that a smattering of knowledge about classical architecture would help us in some way down the road. Continue reading “Useless Information”
Sunrise in Gaborone, Botswana. Waking up with instant coffee. It may be instant, but it’s not coffee. To be fair, even Nestle doesn’t make that claim. They call it Ricoffy, a blend of chicory and instant coffee. A chemical slurry. But at 5am it’s something hot and liquid. Africa is the home of the coffee bean. So why is it so hard to find decent coffee here? Shopping list: buy Rooibos tea. And something besides Ricoffy. Continue reading “Musings of a jetlagged mind”
Upscale Shack 