Bernie has everyone in the mitten mood

My haul from Spry Whimsy

Well hello there. How’s everybody doing?

There is a lot going on. Still, there is a sense of relief. You know the one.

So during this momentary lull (not that it is, really, any sort of a lull, just comparatively) let me complain for a moment about some language issues. I find that I am constantly editing in my head, when reading, even when people on the news on television are talking. You know the broken windows theory  —  about how if you keep neighborhoods tidy, crime goes down, but if the place looks bad (broken windows, etc.) then it’s an express train to disaster. I feel language operates in the same way. Use pizza as a verb and before you know it, you are in hell.

First of all, not all news needs to be “breaking.” I get that the news cycle in the Trump era has been accelerated, but let’s give some thought to the fact that “news” is already a right-now declaration and reserve “breaking” for something that is really really on the cusp of right-now. “Uptick” has to stop, especially when it refers to massive increases in numbers and not tiny incremental bits. And do not get me started on “reach out.” The word is “contact” nine times out of ten. And could we get through one interview on cable without hearing the phrase “at the end of the day”? I think I prefer “This is how you pizza.” I mean, as objectionable as using “pizza” as a verb is, I suppose it’s a little inventive. However, “family” is not a verb and using it as such is not inventive.

I think people are really going off the rails. I submit as evidence a newish feature in the New York Times called “How To Pretend You’re In [name of city] Tonight” like “How to Pretend You’re In Paris Tonight” (Paris being, of course, the ultimate in pretend travel). The most recent installment is “How to Pretend You’re In Tunis”… which is fine since I’m probably never going to Tunisia.

It’s fair to say I was ahead of the curve on pretend travel, as I would sometimes (even pre-pandemic) interiorly declare a day a theme day and try to recreate meals from, say, Portland or Boston. And I will admit that sometimes I have just picked spots on the globe at random and walked around the town via Google Street View. Did you know there is Google Street View from Ulaanbaatar, Mongolia? It’s true. (I highly doubt the Times is going to be featuring Ulaanbaatar as a pretend destination, judging from the grim view of it on Google.) 

My latest in pretend travel is picking out Air BnB’s in Møre og Romsdal, Norway (where there is some Street View), fjord country. I think I landed on this area through some circuitous route having to do with mittens. Was I subconsciously inspired by Bernie’s Inaugural mittens? Maybe.

Where have you all been pretend travelling? (Well at least I hope you have descended into helpless giggling by now while you are asking yourself, How did we get here, again?)

I did actually travel to Stoughton and Janesville yesterday. Judy and I were heading to Janesville to have a tour of a printing plant in preparation for someday returning Isthmus to print, but we elected to take separate cars, because, COVID. I drove down Highway 51 to Stoughton and stopped at Spry Whimsy Fiber Arts, a yarn shop (I’d never been in before) in Stoughton. I left with three balls of Norwegian yarn and a mitten pattern. It’s worth a visit if you are in the market for yarn, or something felted (they have a little felted area, really nice if felting is your thing) or just want to get out and do something. Masks are required, the store is spacious, and I’m guessing you are likely to be the only customer. Though the proprietor, Ingrid, told me that the pandemic has really been good for knitting, and that I could join in their virtual knitting circle via Zoom on Wednesday nights. I have gone on a pretend trip to Paris but I am not sure I’m ready for a virtual knitting circle. My yarn is pictured below along with the pattern.

I will end with the takeout report. We got burritos at Habanero’s near our house on Inauguration Day. I told the guy behind the counter we were calling them “Inauguritos.” He was not amused.

Prickly Pear

I’ve been listening to the PoemTalk podcast religiously for quite a while now, at least since early 2013, probably before that. I’m not sure when I started… possibly as far back as 2010. The podcast began with an episode on William Carlos Williams back in 2007.

I like the way the “talk” avoids being too academic but doesn’t talk down to the audience either. For me, they hit just about the right notes. Each episode begins with a recording of a reading of the poem, almost always by the author. (There are a couple of exceptions – for an episode on Dickinson, and one on Poe, for instance). Hearing the poet read the poem is one of the best parts.

Who even knew there was a recording of Lorine Niedecker? There’s just one, apparently, recorded by Cid Corman at her home on Blackhawk Island in 1970. She has a small yet strong voice, a little creaky, pretty Midwestern. I’ve come to feel that it suits her work. PoemTalk # 77 centers on two of the poems she read that day, “Foreclosure” and one called “Wilderness” (or “Wild Man,” as it’s called elsewhere).

Well there’s this bit where she likens the wild man to a “prickly pear” and the PoemTalkers come to the conclusion that she’s (uncharacteristically) writing about the desert.  This started to bother me since prickly pear cactus do grow in Wisconsin. So I wrote Al Filreis, the host, and he put an addendum onto the web page for the episode. Let the record show… I was not really expecting that, but he must have thought it was important.

Another thing bothers me about this episode, in that they seem to think that Blackhawk is a native American who was living on Blackhawk Island at around the same time that Niedecker was and that she somehow absorbed his philosophy. But it’s not precisely clear what they mean to say about Blackhawk. Though I am pretty sure they’re wrong, I don’t have any proof of that, so I didn’t mention it.

Proof of the cactus, though, yes: they’re outside of Spring Green and I have also seen them near Mazomanie.

Bygone menus, part two: Taqueria Gila Monster

Taqueria Gila Monster was across from the old Isthmus office at 101 King in the space that is now occupied by Red Sushi, but I was eating at TGM before I started working at the paper. The food was terrific. My standard order was the chile rellenos, which were perfect – ethereal batter, very fresh peppers. I’ve never had another version that even comes close. Another daily special, a lamb-raisin filling in tacos and enchildas, lives on in my memory.

You ordered at the counter and then they gave you a tarot card to put on your table to indicate which order was which.

I caught up with the Gila Monster’s Jill Watson for Isthmus back in 2007. She started at L’Etoile. In 2007 she was a Director of External Relations and Development for the UW Foundation.

Here’s the old menu.

TGM menu back

gila_menu_interior

Livingston at Dayton

This was hardly the most iconic Trachte building in the neighborhood. Much of its siding had been replaced and also the roof. It was always getting tagged with spray paint. And I’m not sure it was being used for anything. It was torn down in June to make way for another big apartment complex.

Prepping the building for takedown.
They cut off the bottom strip first.
One side left.

Another one bites the dust

It has not been a good season for Trachte buildings, the indigenous metal buildings that were once made in the company’s Dickinson St./Mifflin St. headquarters (mostly, although not entirely, still extant). They can still be seen all over east Madison, but they are nearing the end of their useful lives, and they are going.

A Trachte building being used as a used car lot office on East Washington Avenue came down in late August, as did one at E. Doty and Livingston Street. Now I see that this former auto-body repair shop (long empty) on 113 near Murphy’s (aka Top of the Swamp, aka the Bavarian Inn) is gone.

I took this photo of it a couple of years ago in the spring, with the VUWS (Vivitar Ultra Wide and Slim), a cheap plastic film camera that has an improbably wide-angle lens and vignetting.

Bygone menus, part one: Uncle Stanley’s

menu

That was incredible bread.

Uncle Stanley’s was a sandwich shop in the original University Square Mall development back when University Square was new. It was back near the theaters, closer to West Johnson Street. I remember going there in high school. The bread – the buns – as I remember them – were round and flat, like Frisbee-sized English muffins, that is the aeration of the crumb was very open like an English muffin, but they were much tastier than English muffins — more savory, and crunchy on the outside.

The ingredient list for the Steamer is somewhat alarming (“lunch meat” – I’m assuming that meant bologna?) but I think I more often ordered the vegetarian, the turkey or the roast beef. I do not remember there being a fish sandwich, and it’s odd, since there obviously was a fish sandwich, why I didn’t order it. We all know about me and fish sandwiches.

I found this menu after much Googling within a thesis of some sort at the UW-Madison library site. The work in question is: Frey-Doering, Kathy; Zanella Albright, Kathy A. / How to teach: chronological age-appropriate activities for school aged moderately and severely handicapped students (1982).