Desk Sets

People Food

The 50th birthday of Charlie the Tuna got me thinking about the anthropomorphism of food in advertising.  This was particularly popular in the 50s and 60s...

...but it still goes on today.

So why do we like our food to look human?  Well, our food becomes a part of us, and therefore human.  Perhaps such anthropomorphism suggests that the food is already on the way to humanness, so will require less digestive work, or that it is suitable for humans--it is people food.
Eating anthropomorphic food is also a socially acceptable form of cannibalism, an ancient practice fallen out of favor in recent times.
My favorite explanation is that human-like food suggests that we will attain the qualities or states suggested by the food's form.  We shall become distinguished and gentlemanly like Mr. Peanut, as beautiful and sultry as Chiquita Banana, or as happily energetic as Kool-Aid Man. (How do they know it's male?)
I invite my readers to put forth their own theories.

Old Tyme Trumpets

I get a monthly e-mail from the local chapter of Big Brothers Big Sisters; and the July e-mail said that, besides old clothes and household items, they would take musical instruments.  Well I still have the trumpet I played in high school and college.  I haven't played it for years; and if I wanted to, I'd have to build up my armature again.  But I encountered a strong internal resistance to parting with my horn.

I used to take my trumpet playing quite seriously:  I practiced daily.  I bought a number of Nonesuch records featuring Baroque trumpet tunes.

I treasured a picture, cut out of a Nonesuch catalogue, of  18th C. trumpet players.  In high school I got the nice Selmer trumpet I have now.  I took lessons from Mr. Mac, the band director, who had actually studied with Edward Tarr, a Baroque trumpet expert.  Daily practice and weekly lessons helped me to reach the last chair of the first trumpet section in my senior year.  That same year Mary Beckett, an incoming freshman, took first chair.  She had an awesome tone.  The boys in the first trumpet section appeared not to be threatened by Mary's superior talent.  In fact, they fawned all over her and ignored me.  It was an important lesson for me: being unafraid of success does not actually ensure success.

Fond memories!  How can I ever let go of my trumpet?

Dummy v. Dummy

Barb told me about this interview on the O'Reilly Factor.  Neither Mr. O'Reilly nor the president of the American Atheism Society was listening during science class when they talked about the tides.

The Missing Pictures

I've posted the pictures I took in NYC to Picasa, but Brenda also took pictures.  Here are her pictures of me and Barb.  Note: they are not in chronological order!

 Before taking the harbor cruise, we posed in front of the Intrepid.

 Grand Central Station.

At the Met.

 At the Schubert Theater.

 Times Square.

 At Lincoln Center.

This Summer's Bunnies

I saw the first bunny nibbling at the grass near the "Roosevelt" wall outside Lamont (corner of Quincy and Harvard Sts.).  People were walking by, but the bunny was unfazed.

 This bunny was in the Dudley Garden.  It was timid and difficult to photograph.

NYC

So, I hadn't been to New York City for over 30 years.  It's always seemed so large, complex, confusing, and treacherous.  However, my college buddy Brenda has been there frequently.  So she and Barbara (another college buddy) and I took a 2-day trip to the Big City.

The New Yorkers on the sidewalks were nice people who gave directions and helped with change for the bus.  It was only the ones driving that showed tooth and claw.  We saw 2 musicals:  Memphis and Avenue Q.  We ate some good food.  We went to the Metropolitan Museum of Art.  We took a harbour tour.  OK, maybe I'll go back.