There is a remarkable story tucked halfway through Bessie, Chris Albertson’s biography of the blues singer Bessie Smith, in which Smith approaches a circle of robed North Carolina Klansmen, places one hand on her hip, and begins shaking the other in the air. She hollers obscenities at the men—who were disassembling the tent her touring company had erected earlier that night, in a particularly childish bit of public dissension—until “they finally turned and disappeared quietly into the darkness.”
My father was a Jack Daniel’s man. Not that he drank a lot of it, at least not when I was around. He mixed it with 7-Up and once in a while would let me have a sip. (He also sprinkled salt into his infrequent Miller High-Life beer, poured into a tall pilsner glass. But we won’t dwell on that.)
The Millennium Tower rises 645 feet above San Francisco’s South of Market neighborhood. Umm, make that 643 feet 8 inches. Since the building opened in 2009, it has sunk sixteen inches. Oh, and it’s tilting two inches at its base – fifteen inches at the top… so far. Anchoring it to compressed sand eighty feet below ground instead of bedrock a hundred feet deeper may not have been such a good idea. Owners of the 400 luxury condominiums – local hero Joe Montana is one – have filed a class-action suit against the developers. Of course the developers point the cause of the problem somewhere else: excavation for the adjacent Transbay Transit Center.
San Francisco Giants outfielder Hunter Pence
Along with the building itself, values of the residences are sinking: the asking price of a one-bedroom unit was recently slashed from $3.8 million to $3.6 million. So far there are no takers.
Many years ago my food-writer mother gave me a copy of the book “Sugar Blues” by William Duffy. The author blamed sugar for everything from acne to loose stools. We knew sugar was empty calories and was bad for our teeth. We all knew the real villain in an unhealthy diet was saturated fat. The USDA told us so with its Food Pyramid.
Guess what – sugar is bad, much worse than we’ve been led to believe. Turns out the sugar industry spent a lot of money commissioning purported studies to convince us that sugar wasn’t so bad. The National Confectioners Association claimed children who ate candy carried less poundage than those who didn’t. Coca-Cola funded a non-profit group to fight obesity, but claimed it had nothing to do with it.
Besides, making us a nation of fat people, sugar is also responsible for diabetes and heart disease. The scientific journal JAMA Internal Medicine has published a report disputing the sugar industry’s claims. Something to think about when you’re ordering that venti coffee-flavored beverage with whipped cream on top.
In fairness to my mother, she also introduced me to Calvin Trillin, with “American Fried,” a collection of pieces he wrote while travelling the country as a roving correspondent and trying to find something decent to eat.
The San Francisco Giants dismal performance began after trading third-baseman Matt Duffy. U.S. oil production has decreased along with the quality of rock music. Maybe you’re concerned because every Hillary Clinton scandal the Republicans promote just solidifies her position in the polls. Or is it that Donald Trump’s rise in the polls coincides with the support of Vladimir Putin? Did you know that the number of people strangled in their bed sheets rises with the increased consumption of cheese?
When I was in school, a passing test score was 70%. That 70% meant a grade of “D.” If you are a contractor building weapons systems for the Department of Defense, a score of 45% merits a $2 billion performance bonus.
There is a remarkable story tucked halfway through Bessie, Chris Albertson’s biography of the blues singer Bessie Smith, in which Smith approaches a circle of robed North Carolina Klansmen, places one hand on her hip, and begins shaking the other in the air. She hollers obscenities at the men—who were disassembling the tent her touring company had erected earlier that night, in a particularly childish bit of public dissension—until “they finally turned and disappeared quietly into the darkness.”
