I have two verses to share in this week’s newsletter: the first an example of iambic tetrameter (with several feminine line endings strewn throughout); the second also with four feet while incorporating amphibrachs.
The analysis of poetry is populated with words best suited for a spelling bee: trochee, pyrrhic, anapest, dactyl. While I don’t consider myself a “poet” — I am fascinated by prosody (there’s another Scripps-worthy word for you) and the effort that goes into constructing a verse, even those as gossamer as mine.
So, speaking of process: that’s the root word linking these poems: the contrast between a device that is surprisingly reliant upon processors, and the compulsion to ingest a heavily processed foodstuff:
Chip Chip Delay! (July 8, 2021)
This story has been in the news for awhile, but was recently revisited to share the flabbergast-inducing tidbit that the average price of a new car has now topped $40,000:
“It’s absolutely nuts right now if you want to buy a new car,” said Ed Kim, an automotive industry expert.
Kim said a computer chip shortage is to blame for the low supply of new cars.
“I would say you’re pretty lucky if you’re just paying MSRP,” he said.
During the pandemic, U.S. automakers temporarily closed factories and canceled orders for computer chips amid plunging sales…
So chipmakers focused instead on smaller chips for electronics like refrigerators, TVs, phones and laptops, which are all in high demand now.
“Once you adapt your supply chain to something else, it takes a while to go back. I struggle to see things going back to what they were for another, I would say, six or nine months,” said Carolina Milanesi, president of Creative Strategies.
[Read more here: https://cbsloc.al/3jYF1yi]
How many shade-tree mechanics out there are also computer-literate?
We own a 5-year-old Subaru and a 17-year-old Toyota. The only way I’d step into a dealership at this moment to shop for a new car is if they had defibrillators on prominent display.
Let’s Be Frankfurter (July 9, 2021)
While competitive eating has become a “sport,” sometimes people just stuff their faces for the fart… er, fun of it:
(Competitive eater Molly) Schuyler ate 50 chili dogs in 22 minutes (at The Corner Bar in Rockford, Michigan)…
“Can I come back and do it again?” Schuyler asked staff members after accomplishing her feat.
“She was saying she could have gotten to 75 if she didn’t have the pitcher of water,” (the bar’s general manager John) Vanaman said.
[Read more here: https://bit.ly/2Uy28Fc]
I was on a work trip years ago — long enough that it was during the period where “business casual” was not a concept, and alcohol still a deductible expense — and a vendor took several of us out for dinner. We went to an upscale steakhouse in Old Sacramento and enjoyed a very rich meal and perhaps more than a couple cocktails and bottles of wine.
Afterwards, seven of us stuffed ourselves into a mid-sized rental sedan for the ride back to our accomodations. I was a late addition to the trip and so was booked into a different hotel than the rest of car’s occupants. During the 20-minute drive I started to feel the after-effects of the rich food and drink and, as casually as was possible while wedged firmly amongst others in the narrow vehicle’s back seat, attempted to loosen the belt of my suit pants to relieve a mounting pressure.
The moment we arrived at my hotel I leaped out of the car, ready to make a mad dash for the comfort and privacy of my room where I could… you know. However, my briefcase was in the rental car’s trunk, so I had to wait for the driver to step out with the keys to open the trunk for its retrieval (again, this was before such a thing as a remote trunk release). She unlocked the trunk, but then stood there with one hand on the lid and began a conversation about the next day’s agenda. I nodded and said “Yes” and “Uh-huh” as I tried to fish my case out of the darkened enclosure.
Once the conversation finally wrapped up, I waved and shouted goodbyes over my shoulder as I speed-walked toward the hotel entrance. Once inside the lobby I could contain myself no longer, emitting a loud, resonant burst of flatulence that caused the lobby’s chandelier to shake.
Once the gas had passed, I felt great relief — for two seconds, until I realized I was not alone; a busload of Japanese tourists were in the process of checking in and had borne witness to my eruption.
To this day, I can still hear the echoes of their laughter as I shame-facedly began the long walk to my room.
Construction update: the expanded bedroom/bath is all sheetrocked, the trim is up, the flooring is down, and this weekend’s goal is to get a coat of primer up on the walls and ceiling. The end is in sight but there’s still some squinting involved…
Until next week,
JB