Walking In Harvard Square
I worked in Harvard Square for several years, and even though the changes have been profound in terms of retail stores and businesses - it went from eclectic to big-brand retail over the course of the past few decades - you can still find original treasures if you know where to look.
Kokomo
https://youtu.be/xmr8bEuyQjA?si=CBu9m07Tdymb7CuB
The ‘Nylon Riots’
I’ve now had my first experience with using ChatGPT.
I had come across a reference to the ‘Nylon Riots’ and wanted to know more about it. Normally, I would Google it, then parse through the links for information. This time, I asked ChatGPT what it was, and it responded in less time that it took to open a Google link.
Here is ChatGPT’s response:
‘Nylon stockings have a fascinating history that intertwines with scientific innovation and cultural shifts. The story begins in the 1930s, when researchers at DuPont, led by Wallace Carothers, developed nylon, the first synthetic fiber made entirely from petrochemicals. Nylon was introduced to the public at the 1939 New York World’s Fair, generating significant interest.
The first nylon stockings hit the market on May 15, 1940, and were an instant sensation, offering a sheer and durable alternative to silk stockings. This day became known as “Nylon Day,” and stores sold out their entire stock in mere hours. However, during World War II, nylon was diverted to the war effort for making parachutes, ropes, and other military supplies, leading to a scarcity of nylon stockings and the rise of “nylon riots” as women scrambled to buy the few available pairs.
After the war, nylon stockings became widely available again and quickly regained their popularity. They symbolized modernity and the new consumer culture of the post-war era. Throughout the 1950s and 1960s, nylon stockings evolved with fashion trends, becoming a staple of women’s wardrobes. The introduction of seamless stockings in the 1960s further enhanced their appeal.
In the 1970s, pantyhose, which combined stockings and underwear into one garment, began to overshadow traditional nylon stockings. Despite this shift, nylon stockings remain an iconic fashion item and a testament to the impact of synthetic materials on everyday life.’
“Hey Siri …”
“… if that’s not goalie interference, what is?”
Coyle gets cross-checked into Swayman by Bennett, so that Bennett gets a clean shot on goal.
(Credit to Kevin Paul Dupont of the Boston Globe for the quote. Photo: Matthew Lee, Boston Globe)
Auschwitz
Us non-Jews may think we know all there is to know about the Holocaust, but we only know it intellectually. I recently attended https://theauschwitzexhibition.com/#about, and I’ve still not recovered from it. I’m not sure I ever will.
It was a combination of the artifacts from the camp - especially a brick from one of the gas chambers - that affected me so viscerally. The exhibition’s a/v historical presentations were interesting and useful, but on a much different (ntellectual) level
I remember once telling a Jewish friend of mine how useful ancestry.com had been for me in understanding my heritage, and my friend responded that it has been difficult and painful - sometimes impossible - for her to use that app.
Now I know why.
Masking Up Again
The only condition for visiting a friend this morning was that masks had to be worn inside the house because of some recent surgery she had, and an abundance of caution.
It felt weird putting on and wearing a mask for the first time in two years, but I kind of expected that when I heard that it would be required.
What I didn’t expect was what came after I’d put it on. So many bad memories and the overall bad vibe of the covid era came rushing back, until the only good thing about covering my face was that it kept it warm on a windy and cold Spring morning.
Even though I’ve never contracted covid, memories of that period are not fun. Those were very dark times indeed.
Bongos
I remember a time when bongo drums were all the rage. You could get a surprising variety of tones from them, in addition to laying down an urgent rhythm line.
November 22, 1963
I remember almost every detail of that Friday, and how nothing was ever the same after.
From my friend Jonathan, who understands these things.
Manhattan Memory
I recently stumbled across this photo and it immediately transported me back to a time in the late 1990s, when I worked as a financial contractor for a publisher in midtown Manhattan and commuted via Amtrak from Boston.
The photo captures my circumscribed work week from noon Monday to noon Friday: the office building I worked in, Penn Station, and my hotel. This was before the old Post Office (the beautiful classic building on the left) became the Moynihan Train Hall, so when my train arrived, I exited Penn Station at street level from beneath Madison Square Garden (the round building) and walked across Thirty First Street to my office somewhere within that stack of buildings at the bottom, right across from the Garden. After work, I checked into my hotel (the white building at the top left).
The job was challenging and fun, and having all of Manhattan to walk after work was wonderful.
Lisa Larsen – Syracuse University, 1949
I love photography, and think I’m pretty good at it. Hundreds of photos I’ve taken, from the late 1960s when I bought my first real camera - a Nikon Nikkormat - to the advent (for me) of digital photography in the late 1980s languish on contact sheets and on slides, waiting for me to get my ass in gear and digitize them.
I also love how the always-at-hand cameras in our mobile phones make in-the-moment photos available whenever we want them. But back when this photo was taken, it took a lot more to frame, focus and capture the joy of the moment, while keeping the subject of the photo unaware that she was being photographed.
When You Talk About Destruction …
I’m reading Jonathan Taplin’s The Magic Years: Scenes from a Rock-and-Roll Life, and in describing John Lennon’s take on the end-of-Sixties violence replacing early-Sixties non-violence, he references Lennon’s lyrics to Revolution:
Can I possibly be the only one who remembers the version of Revolution where Lennon sings “Don’t you know that you can count me out … in …”? This ambiguity always seems to be missing from such discussions.