True story:
Driving out to a distant parish for the homeschool All Saints’ party today, I got off the interstate one exit early. Quickly realized I was at the wrong exit, and looked for a place to turn around. Pulled into the nearest big parking lot.
Child in the back says to me, “Are we at the church? It looks like the church.”
“No dear. That’s the Department of Motor Vehicles.”
Not a church.
Avoid embarrassing mix-ups. Build your church like this.
Ha. Using my special idiot powers, I, um, forgot about Twitter. Made myself a new twitter account JenFitz_Reads devoted to just tweeting links to stuff I’ve read and liked. Put a feed in my sidebar, and of course those desperate to know what I’m reading can subscribe directly. [Update, if you already subscribe to my regular twitter compendium, I just set up the reading list to flow into that one. So don’t follow both.]
A little clunkier than the old share button, but it works, and it double-works for things I find not in Reader. (Or Bloglines, which I experimented with). For the moment I’m using the Diigolet share button for things that don’t have a tweet button of their own. Maybe there is an easier way?
We’ll see how it goes.
And yes. OCD. Must. promote. good. writing. Quarter break ends soon. The internet will be happier I’m sure.
Here in the Bonny Glen | Diigo. Testing. Nothing to see here. (Well, the link is good. Not new to you, but still as good as it was an hour ago.)
Here’s a link to the very helpful info Entropy recommended at Melissa Wiley’s site. Some good ideas (in addition to what Julie & Sarah mentioned bleg combox.) Hey and wow, another great blog to read while I’m at it. Yay.
***
What’s the big deal about the Google change? Here’s what I wrote in Melissa’s combox when I thanked her for the info:
Thank you for posting this! I’m feeling the pain of not being able to share posts anymore. I don’t like to do my topic-sharing on the social networks, because most of what I read and write about on the internet is politics and religion, two topics that don’t mesh well with my very diverse real-life set of friends. So I keep FB and the like purely cocktail-party talk, and if people want to know more about what I think, they can click on my website link.
I don’t have a double life on the internet anymore than I do in real life. But I do try (no seriously, I do try) not to be a jerk and a bore. My real-life friends are very kind, considerate people who make a point of not ramming some topic down my throat that I don’t care to debate. I try to return the favor. My friends on Facebook are real people I know in real life, people I respect and whose company I enjoy. The link to this blog is on my facebook profile — if anyone wants to know what I think about death or taxes, they can click. But they don’t have to. I like it that way.
I debated whether maybe Google+ should be more like this blog and less like Facebook, and therefore, hey, yeah, fill it with links about politics and religion, why not? But I don’t like that solution, for the same reason I don’t like (and therefore don’t do) flooding FB with Fr. L and Darwin and all the team.
And don’t tell me that Google+ promises to keep all my circles separate blah blah blah. I’ll believe it when I see it. The general rule on the internet is that even when I try not to bore people by linking stuff in places it doesn’t belong, some clever inventor decides to combine it all anyway. Also, I’m not looking for a new hobby. So building up a thousand separate “circles” isn’t on my list. If I do Google+ (and I suppose I probably will), you’ll all be in one very large circle. Feels like a giant Girl Scout Camp ice-breaker activity.
Anyone have any advice on how to work around the sudden disappearance of the “share” feature in Google Reader? I was really enjoying having a efficient way to point readers towards worthy posts by other people. Got another feed reader you recommend?
We sneaked away this weekend for a last-minute beach retreat, courtesy of the 1%. Ridiculously luxurious surroundings, a feast for the armchair architect, but eventually I kept thinking the place needed an overhaul from Extreme Makeover, Monastery Edition — too much rich food begins to wear. (All the same: Lovely weekend and we are very grateful to our patron.)
But here’s what I want: Property tax reform that protects middle-class vacation retreats. My arguments:
1. There’s a legitimate need for retreat. To withdraw to some quiet, natural place and just be very quiet. It would seem self-indulgent except that even the Franciscan Friars of the Renewal agree.
2. For married people with children, a house or cabin or apartment with amenities for children seems appropriate.
3. In much of the world, there is a real shortage of monasteries set up for the drooling / yelling / jumping-on-the-bed set.
4. But it’s not so hard to find a nice quiet place near a good Catholic parish church.
5. Somebody’s got to own the house.
But here is what is happening in my state:
1. Ordinary families with normal middle-class incomes purchase land in some remote, unpopular, but peaceful location.
2. They erect a frugal structure suitable for family retreats.
3. For a while, family, friends, and guests (including complete strangers on tight budgets looking for a rental cheaper than a hotel), get to enjoy the retreat.
4. Then the area becomes popular, rich people buy up neighboring properties (no complaints there, rich people need retreats too), and land values rise.
5. So what? You still have your humble little family cabin.
6. Until property taxes are raised to reflect the increase of land values.
7. And your family has to sell the retreat. Because the taxes are so ridiculously high. The buyer bulldozes your cabin and builds a beautiful, tasteful, mini-mansion that rents for more than anyone you know can afford.
8. And then you don’t have anywhere to go.
9. And you know that if you buy a little retreat somewhere else, the same thing will happen again.
I guess one could argue that if you take the windfall from selling the place then you’re so much happier with all that cash from your investment. Except that a) you weren’t trying to invest for cash, you just wanted a family vacation cabin b) my experience is that the finances don’t end up working that well. The general consensus is that the family well-being was greater when the family had the cabin.
I’m not sure how you do this in a way that protects the family cabin without also making it easy for land magnates to hoard vast stretches for future development and not pay taxes on their accumulation. But that’s what I want.
The inimitable Dan Castell sends in an update:
(1)
I have amended the blurb to include a few lines, as follows:
In this light-hearted short story, Groucho and Chico Marx are on a desperate search for God when they run into a pack of joke-starved comedians led by W.C. Fields. And it happens like this:
A portly soul steps forth from the mist.
Groucho does a double-take at the soul, then reaches out to shake hands. “You’re…you’re W.C. Fields. Mr. Fields, you’re one of my heroes.”
“Mine too,” says Fields in his trademark twang. “Take pride in your good taste, son. Now go away—you bother me.”
“But Mr. Fields. I learned everything I know about comedy watching you. You made me what I am today.”
“That’s the most revolting testimonial I’ve ever heard,” says Fields. “I plead not guilty on all counts. Who are you, anyway, my indefatigable carbuncle?”
“Don’t you remember me? I’m Groucho Marx.”
“Marx…Marx?” Fields scratches the back of his neck with his bamboo cane. “Oh yes, I recall that catastrophic encounter. You muffed that scrub grounder during the ‘08 World Series. You cost Ed ‘Two Toes’ Jones his shut out. Your team lost the game and I lost fifty dollars. Fortunately, I deducted it as educational expenses.”
“Educational expenses?”
“Yes, I learned never to bet on a game until you know the final outcome.”
11-year-old boys at my house swear by this guy. I’d describe Castell’s genre as sort of like the Hitchhiker’s Guide, only it’s the Marx Brothers wandering Heaven, and replace the existential theme with laugh-out-loud one-liners. Or think Monty Python, only toned down to purely mild-PG. (And no, I still don’t own a Kindle, and I haven’t seen this exact story. Have seen his other work and enjoyed it.)
The update continues:
(2)
It is also about to being joined by its cousin, “The Marx Brothers Meet the Doctors of Death,” whenever the e-gods deign to inflict it upon an innocent and unsuspecting blogosphere (in other words, when it works its way through the Amazon’s mysterious innards to go live).
(3)
Likewise, over in Barnes and Noble land with both stories, where they tell me they will be available in “24-72 hours”, which actually makes the cable guys look like Mr. Monk in the matter of appointment keeping.
And don’t fret yourself: I’ll be glad to send follow-up when that watershed moment arrives.
I’ll let you know when he lets me know.
UPDATE: I’ve switched out a few of the photos to ensure they are public domain.
In the combox at Ashely McGuire’s “Case for a Catholic Dress Code”, a reader argues that such dress codes are sexist — what with all the talk being about short skirts and cleavage.
So let’s clear something up: Men should not wear tight, skimpy clothing to Mass. Here’s a picture tutorial to assist.
1. Skirt meet knees, knees meet skirt:
Yes.
No.
2. Cover the shoulders.
Yes.
No.
3. No cleavage.
Yes.
No.
4. Tailored yes, tight no:
Yes.
No.
A little franglais for you, hehe.
H/T to David Gaughran for pointing out Amazon now has a Kindle store in France, *and* french language titles available in the US. (A couple weeks old now, but maybe you missed it too.) A quick search at the US store for kindle books “en francais”, and wow, piles of interesting stuff. Lot of classics in the public domain available for free.
This one totally has my name on it: Le Docteur Omega (Aventures fantastiques de trois Français dans la Planète Mars) Circa 1906, it’s like a source document for Dr. Boli & the Young Chesterton Series both.
I like paper. Strongly prefer it. But between the cost of print books and the space constraints for storing them, plus Gibert Joseph has yet to open an outlet in my corner of the backwoods, getting what I want to read is not so easy. I might have to take this up with Mr. Claus.
I could never be coordinated enough produce seven on a Friday. But here’s three:
1) If you ever wondered how someone like me ended up in the Legion of Mary, yeah, it’s about how you’d think. Don’t be fooled by that lovely little picture Sarah R. stuck up, I pray nothing but plastic these days. Unblessed at that, which horrifies the gallant rosary-maker I thanked the other week, but I tell you right now there is a rosary permanently stuck in the track of the seat of my truck. Yes. With the cheerios crumbs and the hardened mass you secretly hope is just gum, but maybe it isn’t. It’s all I can do to pray the thing; keeping it from falling out of my pocket and into the netherworld where no blessed objects belong is beyond my ability.
2) I don’t care what the nice guy at the Newman Society says, $20,000 a year for college tuition is not “affordable”. Put me firmly in the camp with Msgr. Pope, on the question of “Are We Unjust to Require College Degrees As Often As We Do?” Yes. We are unjust. It is a mockery to post “degree required” positions for jobs that don’t pay enough to cover the cost of student loans.
3) I am having massive fun today hitting the “share” button in Google reader. I made a little sidebar here on the blog that shows my favorite google-read posts. If you are like me and never, ever, actually visit your favorite blogs (because you read everything in RSS), but weirdly you want to know what things other people wrote that I think are worth reading, I think the link to my Google Reader Shared Posts page is here. Which in theory you could subscribe to. I have to test and see if that works. (Update: Yes! It works!)
