Thought That Came Unbidden

A White Sox vs Astros World Series…stranger things have happened I suppose. And while I’m happy for all my friends who are Astros fans I want them all, once the euphoria settles to a managable level, to take a look at the calendar. That’s right…the World Series won’t start until October 22nd.

That’s most decidedly not Scottish.

That fact that this is crap is not a reflection on the teams that are playing this year: it’s a problem with baseball itself. The World Series should over by now. In his hey-day with the Yankees Reggie Jackson’s nickname was Mr. October, not Mr. Early-November. I blame this all on Ronald Reagan (“why?” you may ask. “Why not?”, I reply.)

The Baseball Almanac lists the outcome of every World Series match up thus far in a handy chart. You have to dig deep but what you find is that, on average, pre-1981 the World Series started around October 10th and was over around October 21st. We keep going the way we’ve been going we’ll start a new American tradition: fighting over what the men in the family watch on Thanksgiving instead of helping out with dinner: the Dallas Cowboys beat up the Redskins or the last game of the World Series.

I propose a reform:

• Division Series: Best of 3
• League Championship: Best of 5
• World Series: Best of 7

Oh, and could we quit the bullshit, back to back weekend scheduling of teams while we’re at it? And lets at least think about going back to two divisions, eh?

I’m gonna go watch Bull Durham and wait for the Nationals schedule for next year to come out.

The Saffir-Simpson scale only goes up to 5. Maybe it’s time to think about a 6, eh?

From Weatherunderground.com:

Tracking Info For Hurricane Wilma

What this means, boys and girls, is that in less than 24 hours Wilma went from being a Tropical Storm to being a Class 5 hurricane. She picked up more than 100 mph in wind speed in under 30 hours.

Hurricane season “officially” ends on December 1st (someone make sure the planet gets the memo, m’kay?). Time to learn the Greek alphabet.

Yes, that’s what the doctor told my uncle about the bleed in his brain. Verbatim. “You blew a gasket.” They’ve said that it wasn’t an aneurysm in the classic sense of the word because the bleeding has stopped on its own. They expect the blood that’s still in there to resorb in about 90 days or so.

I spoke with him yesterday by phone. I didn’t have much to say which is probably most of the reason why the conversation was awkward as hell. But then, and I know some of you will laugh at this, I’m not a big talker. I do much better in writing than I do on the phone. He was distracted and tired and cranky, and I would be too if the situations were reversed.

They’ve told him his life has to change if he wants to keep recovering and not have this happen again, and that if he does make the changes (like giving up the coffin nails) he’ll probably make a 90-100 percent recovery. It’s up to him now to decide whether he’s going to play the game or not.

The point of this entry is that it will be the last on my uncle unless something major changes. I know I wouldn’t want someone else writing about the trials and tribulations of my recovery for anyone with internet access to read. I figured, though, that because of all the kind e-mails and support, and the human need to know “what happened” you all deserved at least an update.

The Thoughts The Come Unbidden come at the oddest times and in the oddest places. A recent encounter with a low-flush toilet got me to thinking about a lovely bit of engineering I found in Amsterdam in the apartment of a friend: the two-stage flush. Ingenious, really. Don’t have a lot to dispose of, then press the small button to release the water in the small chamber inside the tank. Been in there a while? Press the large button and both chambers inside the tank empty. Saves on water, certainly, and it’s just a neat idea. But this isn’t about flushing. No, it’s about something that has caused more problems than its inventors could ever have possibly imagined.

I was moved to wonder the other day as I noticed that plastic hinge on the one on the toilet I normally use at the office was broken why, exactly, it’s necessary for a toilet to have a seat?

The flush toilet is a staple in residences in urban areas in most industrialized countries. Chances are that even if you live in a place that doesn’t feature its very own toilet you can just wander down the hall and find one in the common bath (assuming, of course, that your neighbor hasn’t beaten you to it with the Sunday paper in hand). Wikipedia’s entry on the flush toilet freely admits to being “anglocentric” in its chronology of invention.

Thomas Twyford is credited with inventing in 1885 the one-piece “china” (read porcelain) design that incorporated progress made by previous inventors (chiefly the S-trap invented by Alexander Cumminngs in 1775 which helps keep noxious gasses from the sewer pipe from backing up into the bathroom). While Wikipedia’s entry on toilets is fascinating, it tells me nothing about the toilet seat, the source of so much friction and so many jokes (indeed, the bathroom explosion where someone stumbles forth mussed and smoking with a toilet seat around his neck is nearly as hackneyed a device as the single tire that rolls forth from the car explosion, and the “up or down” debate still regularly appears in advice and etiquette columns).

Toiletology.com features an interesting history of the toilet and a very interesting history of the Church Toilet Seat company, makers of the white, wooden core seat that is so common in the U.S. we don’t really see it any more, but it tells me nothing at all about who put the first toilet seat on a toilet. It does, though, link to an entry for The Porcelain God: A Social History of the Toilet by Julie L. Horan, Deborah Frazier (Illustrator), the cover illustration for which seems to indicate that the flush toilet didn’t always have that now-ubiquitous ring on top of the bowl.

The market for toilet seats is vast, vaster than I ever thought possible. There are toilet seats that come with lid art, seats made out of solid oak, soft seats, seats with safety arms, and seats for a kid sized butt (and that’s all from one company). There are even seats specially designed to accommodate larger individuals and clear plastic seats.

Maybe it’s economics. Maybe the toilet seat manufacturing industry self-perpetuates. But with injection molding what it is, why not just size the rim of the bowl, shape it in such a way that the basic seat isn’t necessary? It would certainly solve a lot of cleaning problems and all of those seat up or seat down issues. Then the only thing left to argue about would be whether the toilet roll should go in the spindle over or under.

I don’t understand why people have to make their own lives harder through their own inability, or unwillingness, to see the consequences of their actions. If they just stopped and considered the benefit and the profit motive life would be so much easier all around.

More later after I talk to the lawyer.

In the meantime, a bit of sad news, the man who wrote most of the words for the Muppets is gone.

Jerry Juhl, whose Emmy Award-winning writing gave life to Jim Henson’s whimsically irreverent Muppets on television and film, died on Sept. 27 at a hospital in San Francisco. He was 67 and made his home in Caspar, Calif.

The cause of death was complications from pancreatic cancer, diagnosed five weeks earlier, said his wife, Susan Doerr Juhl.

Mr. Juhl was the head writer for Muppets programs including “The Muppet Show” on television and, in some capacity, all the Muppet films, from the first “Muppet Movie” in 1979 to “Muppets From Space” in 1999.

“The Muppet Show,” a vaudevillelike variety show featuring Kermit the Frog and his many friends, was introduced in 1976 and ran until 1981, ultimately reaching more than 100 countries.

“When people say about the Muppets, ‘It’s a gentle soul with a naughty sense of humor,’ Jerry was just as responsible for that as my dad,’ ” said Brian Henson, Jim Henson’s son, who serves with his sister Lisa as chairman and chief executive of the Jim Henson Company. Jim Henson, who died in 1990, created the Muppets, coining the name to describe his combination of marionette and foam-rubber hand puppets.

Before working on “The Muppet Show,” Mr. Juhl helped build the Henson legacy through work on Henson’s first television show, “Sam and Friends,” special guest appearances on variety shows and later on “Sesame Street” as a puppeteer, writer and voice talent, among other jobs. As the staff grew, Mr. Juhl concentrated on writing for the company.

Mr. Juhl won two Emmy awards for his work on “Sesame Street.” He also won two Writers Guild Awards as head writer of “The Muppet Show” and an Emmy in 1981 for the “dance marathon” episode featuring Carol Burnett.

“He’s the one who knew the characters better than anyone else; he brought the heart to the characters,” said Frank Oz, another early creative force in the Jim Henson Company, who lent his talents to Miss Piggy, among other characters.

Mr. Juhl also wrote for and won awards for “Fraggle Rock,” a television show about underground puppet creatures that was conceived to emphasize world harmony.

Jerome Ravn Juhl was born in St. Paul, Minn., in 1938, and his family moved to Menlo Park, Calif., when he was 14. He received a bachelor’s degree in theater arts from San Jose State University in 1961 and worked on children’s shows for local television stations while in college. He met Mr. Oz when they were teenagers. They later met Henson at a puppeteer gathering in California.

Mr. Juhl had mostly retired from writing in the last few years but taught at local colleges and spoke at puppeteer conventions.

In addition to his wife, Mr. Juhl is survived by a brother, Phil, of Waverly, Iowa.

Jerry Juhl, 67, Award-Winning Head Writer for Muppet Shows, Is Dead, by Monica Potts, The New York Times, October 9, 2005