I admit, it would have been a lot of fun if students suddenly broke into song in some of my classes.
I give major points to Prof. Valentini for enjoying the unique experience, instead of either getting angry, or (as I’m certain some of my professors would have done) remaining confused throughout about what was happening.
From Douglas Crockford’s JavaScript class:
When the compiler sees an error, it attempts to replace a nearby linefeed with a semicolon and try again.
This should alarm you.
I love a fireworks display that’s so intense I can literally feel my walls shaking 4.5 miles away.
This is why the woman sitting next to us at the Pops the other night explained, after we prompted her (by saying absolutely nothing and never once looking in her direction) that she comes to Boston every year. She passes up New York City’s fireworks, which Wikipedia says are the largest in the world (and why would it lie!) just to camp out on the Esplanade and watch Keith Lockhart.
I’m not sure which should be more surprising: that I showed up to work this morning in the back of a police cruiser or that I was disappointed none of my coworkers were around to witness it.
(I may have given a demo for the police first thing this morning and then accepted a ride back to the office. At least, that’s the story I’ll be telling.)
Tonight’s Boston Pops concert (part of the ongoing OoP day celebrations) featured music from the Baseball Music Project, including a 1969 novelty song called Van Lingle Mungo. Far funnier in theory than in execution, the song’s lyrics consist entirely of the names of 1940s baseball players – particularly those that sound funny. The first verse:
Heeney Majeski
Johnny Gee
Eddie Joost
Johnny Pesky
Thornton Lee
Danny Gardella
Van Lingle Mungo
The author, David Frishberg, got to perform the song for Van Lingle Mungo himself, who griped that he wouldn’t get any money despite his name being the title and the refrain:
“When he heard my explanation about how there was unlikely to be any remuneration for anyone connected with the song, least of all him, he was genuinely downcast. ‘But it’s my name,’ he said. I told him, ‘The only way you can get even is to go home and write a song called Dave Frishberg.'”
They also performed a far more entertaining song titled Let’s Keep the Dodgers in Brooklyn, accompanied by slides of the team. Tip for the future: don’t show slides of a Brooklyn team wearing what is, in the end, the Red Sox insignia on their caps. We’re easily confused about that sort of thing.
Kid: “I hate college.”
Guy: “Are you gonna be a college dropout?”
Kid: (indignant) “How am I supposed to know? I’m eleven.”
– Overheard on the Green Line
You may decide which of these movie quotes this real-life experience most resembles:
Option 1:
Guy: “What’s going on?”
Eric: “I don’t know. But could you do us a favor and try to catch the lemur?”
Guy: “I don’t know how to catch a lemur. I’m a dentist.”
Eric: “Well I don’t know how to catch a lemur – I’m nine!”
– Mr. Magorium’s Wonder Emporium
Option 2:
Joey: “There’s gotta be a way that we can stop this from happening. Ooh! Okay, you come with me and you tell them that the house is haunted!”
Mackenzie: “What are you, eight?”
Joey: “Okay, let’s hear your great idea.”
Mackenzie: “I don’t have any great ideas. I am eight.”
– Friends
Concluding the mini-series of quotes from my nieces, we have these three from just this weekend.
Jess: (contemplative) “I want to paint my nails. (beat) Do you want to paint my nails?”
Jess: We should make a scrapbook together!
Rachel: (enthusiastic) Ooh, yeah! (suddenly accusatory) Maybe when you give me my scrapbook stuff back!
Jess: (hopefully) “Can I have all your mints? And you can’t have any of mine, in case you were wondering.”
Then, when I could no longer bear to let these gems (many of which remain unprinted) fly about the room without someone writing them down, I went to get my computer. This prompted:
Jess: Wait, what’s a blog?
I never did come up with an answer.
Jessica (author of the best retort ever uttered) has always had a sarcastic streak. At the age of about four, she sat down to lunch with her sister Rachel – Jess with a plate of bite-size hot dog pieces, and Rachel, who hated hot dogs, with a bowl of vegetable soup.
Having two different meals apparently prompted a moment of confusion.
Jess: Whatcha got there? Vegetable soup?
Rachel: Yep.
Jessica contemplated this a moment, took another bite of hot dog, and then dumped the rest of her plate into her sister’s bowl of soup.
Jess: Whatcha got now? Hot dog soup?
A few years ago we went to see the Fourth of July fireworks at Lake Champlain – held every year on the third of July.
Some people arrive early in the evening and claim space on the grass with their blankets and picnic baskets, but we chose to walk around and get ice cream and enjoy the atmosphere. We found a row of people standing at a railing just before the fireworks began, and joined them.
Immediately a delegate from the lawn squatters behind us approached and suggested – all but insisted – we might want to sit when the fireworks started. Gesturing at the people around us we suggested there’d be little chance of that. Besides, it’s not like we’d be blocking the view of the sky.
We heard her report back, quietly, “They’re not gonna move.” A woman immediately shouted up to us – me, my brother, his daughter, and our two nieces, all clumped together – “Maybe some day you’ll have kids and then you’ll understand.”
Without missing a beat, my niece Jessica whipped around and shouted back, “What are we, the next door neighbors?”
With that, I introduce a mini-series of quotes from my nieces, and from Jessica in particular.
I walked up to the teller at my bank yesterday and had this exchange.
Me: “I’d like to make a withdrawal.”
Teller: “Do you have an account here?”
I don’t understand. Do they get a lot of people making withdrawals who don’t actually have accounts?