On the way to ORD

Flying to Chicago for a couple days, mostly sifting through a storage locker left over from last year's fun and frolics, seeing some family, and closing out the remaining estate issues.

Was amazed at how quickly I got to LGA this morning, at most 25 minutes from Brooklyn Heights. Security took another 15 minutes. Now hanging out in the AA Admiral's Club.

Spring? Hello, spring?

Somehow, on landing I was thinking it would be warmer in Chicago. Or at least the same temperature, but no, it's in the 40s, and I swear it was snowing as I drove out of O'Hare.

Chicago Building Department approves 28 buildings by dead architect

According to this story Chicago Tribune | The case of the busy, deceased architect, the Chicago Building Department approved plans for 28 building projects which were submitted by an architect who died in 1993. The plans were actually drawn up by a draughtsman who'd worked for the architect, based on plans originally created by the architect. The draughtsman now faces a USD$250,000 fine.

“Irish” Gegen 1989-2005

My cat died today. Now, that will come as a surprise to most people since I've never actually had a cat, however from 1992 to 1994 I shared a house in Wappingers Falls, NY with Pete Gegen and Irish, the cat.

Irish was a bit of a character. He was very much an outdoors cat and where we lived was perfect for him. We were in a house on a 5 acre lot with a small pond (just right for Fishkill-Myers Corners hockey games in the winter). Irish would go out at night and come back in a half hour on most nights. Occasionally, though, he'd return in the morning, scratch or thumping against the door.

These morning returns usually involved Irish returning and presenting his trophy of the night: a mouse, bird, or the occasional small rabbit. For awhile we kept track of his kills on our whiteboard (being both IBMers, we had to have a whiteboard in our kitchen). Unfortunately being from the pre-digital-era, I have no idea where the photo of the board is.

Irish moved around a lot, following Pete through various transfers (IBM == I've been moved). One move involved my following Pete down I-81 from Poughkeepsie to Winston-Salem, NC with Irish riding alongside in the passenger's seat. On the plus side, I had air conditioning in Pete's Accord; on the minus side: the car had a manual transmission, and Irish was quite vocal about being caged for nearly 12 hours of driving. He also managed to comment whenever I mis-shifted.

I last saw Irish last year. He sort of looked at me like Who the hell are you? and then seemed to recognize me. Given it'd been ten years since I last spent any significant time with him that was a bit surprising. Irish and Frisket have even met, briefly. Irish wasn't too keen about a dog in his house. Frisket of course seems to think of cats as friendly creatures to play with. We managed to keep the two separated.

Anyway, Irish was a fun cat. I'd write something up here about how he played some seminal role in the development of the Internet at IBM but other than putting up with Pete and I working late nights on the Books On Internet project in 1993 his role was to demand food, brushing, and adoration for his catch of the day.

Adios Irish...may the mice be plentiful and the racoons declawed wherever you are.

If you ever met Irish or know Pete, drop him a note.

Irish's tote board 1993

Kudos to my brother Pat who happened to have videotaped the infamous whiteboard where we tracked Irish's kill count in 1993-1994. He sent me a shot of it overnight, here 'tis:

The Disney Muppets: why that just isn't funny

This Article in the Times of London on the purchase of the Muppets franchise by the Disney corporation caused me to attempt to buy the The Best of the Muppet Show on DVD from Amazon, my fear being that the DVDs will disappear shortly to be re-edited and re-issued, regurgitating the corporate claptrap that Disney will feel is appropriate, removing all humor that could possibly be remotely offensive to any person, group, and amoeba.

The Muppet Show, by contrast, had an unmistakably American take on psychedelia.

It centred on optimism, modernism — no passing fad, from roller-skating to Star Wars, was ever overlooked — and things such as Elton John singing Crocodile Rock surrounded by crocodiles, rockin’. The Muppets would take off into space, sail the theatre out to sea as a pirate ship, turn into Hell’s Angels, or all get murdered; albeit in an amusing way, and by Liza Minnelli. Furthermore, the show, in an excess of energy, would often deconstruct itself as it went along, whether it was Sam the American Eagle’s neocon analysis of the acts (This is degenerate) to Statler and Waldorf’s sour running commentary (Just when you think this show is terrible, something wonderful happens — it ends!).

The problem is that Disney — as one must expect from a global business enterprise — tends to think of its intellectual properties in terms of merchandising opportunities, rather than the opportunity for some great chicken-gags. It’s telling that the announcement about the Muppets’ relaunch mentioned that Muppet ringtones and screen-savers would precede any actual artistic content.