Malcolm X’s nephew, Rodnell Collins, has purchased the three-story house in the Roxbury neighborhood in Boston where Malcolm lived for seven years as a teenager. Collins wants to rehab the decrepit building and, perhaps, turn it into student housing. But first, the ground around the structure has been sifted and fingered through by a group of urban archeologists, looking for traces and relics of earlier ages.
Young Malcolm Little
Lo and behold, the searchers found things like iron jacks from a jacks and ball set, a musket ball, shards of ceramics from the 18th and 19th centuries, a pewter mug lid, and fragments of colonial-era tobacco pipes. The neighborhood, like most city tracts, has gone through numerous changes over the years. Before it turned black, it was home to working class Irish immigrants, for instance. The finds, though, indicate the area might have been a colonial plantation with a grand manor on it.
Cool, huh? Makes me want to start digging around in my backyard to see who lived on the present day site of the world headquarters of this communications colossus.
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I thought I saw a lightning bug Friday night. Then I thought I saw one last night.
Both times I watched the space where I thought I saw the flash for long moments and neither time did I see another buggy sexual come-on.
I suppose the sightings were just my imagination. Nevertheless, it’ll be lightning bug season awfully soon.
Kerosene As A Condiment?
They do fish boils up in Door County, a glorious tourist destination on the thumb of Wisconsin. Door County is a hilly, narrow peninsula reaching north into Lake Michigan, with the greater lake to the east and Green Bay to the west.
Honestly, I’m a sucker for these kinds of things. When you go to a fish boil — and pretty much every little hamlet along Green Bay features at least one place that offers it — you sit in a spacious yard and watch as some garrulous, bearded old geezer prepares the dinner over a wood fire. As he cooks, he tells why he’s doing what he’s doing, his explanation interspersed with local lore and corny jokes. Then there’s the boil-over, a spectacular blast of flame and heat caused by — gulp! — kerosene.
Here’s one YouTuber’s vid of the show:
Yep, they toss kerosene into the water that’s boiling whitefish chunks, red potatoes, and onions. As soon as the kerosene hits the boiling water it ignites, sending flames ten feet in the air and creating a column of black smoke. The Scandinavians who brought the fish boil technique to the Midwest found that the process actually burns away all traces of the fuel so that — yeah, I figured you were worried about this — you won’t be gobbling forkfuls of fish and potatoes coated with jet fuel at your table.
Right now, my dear pals, the unlikely Persian-Jewish husband and wife team of crackerjack architects, Mikey and Ati, are there and — yup — they went to a fish boil last night. Dang. I wish I were there with them.
You Are Under My Power. You Are Sleepy… Sle-e-e-e-epy!
Just a reminder that several days ago America’s Shart, Donald Trump, excoriated this holy land’s diplomats and leadership for allowing North Korea to explode their semi-dud nuclear weapons.
He said it would only take a phone call from Himself as president (pardon me while I clean up my vomit) to halt Kim Jong-un’s nuke ambitions.
Maybe I’ve got this guy all wrong. Maybe he’s a hypnotist or a blackmailer of some sort. All I know is, if he can get Kim to kill his A-bomb program with a single telephone call, I’d like him to dial up Comcast for me. I’ve got issues with them.
Just Go Home
Nothing good can happen in a bar at 3:00am on a Saturday night/Sunday morning. The Herald Times today carries a report about a lively donnybrook in the parking lot of Kilroy’s Dunnkirk at that unholy hour this morning.
Honestly, if you need to drink alcohol that late into the night, you’ve got a huge monkey on your back. If you haven’t picked up somebody by then with whom you can have semi-anonymous and totally unfulfilling sex, whoever you are going to pick up will be as attractive — inside and out — as Aileen Wuornos or Jeffrey Dahmer.
May 29th Birthdays
Tenzig Norgay — The actual first human to reach the top of Mt. Everest.
John F. Kennedy — He and Soviet premier Nikita Krushchev engaged in a genital-length contest during the Cuban Missile Crisis. Thankfully, both leaders possessed enough basic human decency to call off their little competition before mushroom clouds spread over dozens of cities.
Pepper Paire — Born Lavone Paire in Los Angeles, she was a star catcher for the Minneapolis Millerettes, Fort Wayne Daisies, Racine Belles, and Grand Rapids Chicks of the All-American Girls Professional Baseball League. Her 2009 memoir, Dirt in the Skirt, tells the real story of the AAGPBL as opposed to the Hollywood-ized account in Penny Marshall’s A League of Their Own.
Peter Higgs — Nobel laureate physicist who theorized the existence of the Higgs Boson, popularly known as the God Particle. Higgs was a member of Greenpeace until that organization took a stance opposing Genetically Modified Organisms. BTW, fellow Nobel laureate physicist Leon Lederman, who’s credited with coining the term God Particle, originally wanted to call it the Goddamn Particle.
Melissa Etheridge — Lesbian Nation’s fave singer-songwriter. She was dubbed “The Great Dyke Hope” by The Advocate editor Judy Wieder. A breast cancer survivor, she criticized actress Angelina Jolie for her decision to have her breasts surgically removed as a preventive measure.
Mel B — Born Melanie Brown, she was a member of the Spice Girls. I list her here only to remind the world that at one sad moment in our species’ history we cared about the Spice Girls. Mel B was black and so she was identified as Scary Spice. No, nothing racist about that.
On this day in 1951, Fanny Brice died. Born Fania Borach in New York, she achieved great fame as a comedienne, singer and stage personality. More than a decade after her death, her fame was rekindled when a young Barbra Streisand portrayed her in the Broadway musical Funny Girl.