cream, 2008-2021

Sometimes, when a pet is in decline, there's a discrete event that makes it clear the end has come. That's how it was for Bungee. And for Morgan. And, as painful as that is, the decision is easy. For other pets, you never get a discrete event. The pet's health and quality of life gradually deteriorates. And you keep asking yourself and your vet -- if you're lucky enough to have a good vet -- the same questions. What's his quality of life? Is he in pain? Is he enjoying life? That's how it has been with Cream.

We made the decision this week. Early this afternoon, we had him put to sleep.

My purpose here is not to document Cream's decline. I'm not writing this to justify our decision -- or the fact that it took so long to make it. This is to write about some of my good memories of Cream. For the record, his official name was The Brewery Cream, because "The Brewery" is the name of the cattery where he was bred.

When we first visited The Brewery, we were looking for two kittens. Blair was pregnant with Asher, and we thought that getting cats for Ethan and Sharon would be a good idea. Having played the role of kitty hospice for a Maine Coon* and having done some research, we wanted Maine Coons. Ethan picked one of the kittens because he loved the energy. That kitten (who would become known as Red) was bouncing off the walls, though he occasionally checked in on us. He seemed to like when Ethan picked him up. Sharon also had her eye on one particular kitten. But then this cream-colored one came over and kind of sat next to her. We don't know why, but he seemed to show a real interest in Sharon. And that was how Sharon was picked by her cat.

Cream was particularly docile. I remember a time that Sharon was carrying him down the stairs. She tripped, and the two of them went tumbling down. He didn't bite or scratch or anything like that. He spent a second or two looking around puzzled. Then, when he got his bearings, he went to Sharon (who was, herself, just getting her bearings), and waited for her to pick him up.

And yet Cream was (before he wet deaf and blind) a great hunter. To this day, Sharon will tell you that her favorite birthday present was the mouse Cream left on her bed on her birthday.

Cream particularly enjoyed carb-heavy people food. Which meant that bread wasn't safe around him. That's not so bad. But when he was young -- three or so? -- he ate a big chunk of corn cob. This got lodged in his intestines and made him sick. So sick, in fact, that he would have died without surgery. Afterwards, the vet reminded us: "Remember. He has learned nothing from this incident."

There was a time a few years ago that Red was missing for several months. I wrote about his return here. When we got him back, Cream -- though blind and deaf -- was beside himself with joy.

In the last couple years, we've occasionally taken Cream outside to enjoy the sunshine. In his declined state, we felt there was really no risk of him running away. So we would sit with him in the yard as he sniffed the air and rubbed against the flowers or the clover.

During the time after he lost his hearing and vision, but before his mobility deteriorated, he would still move around the house. He seemed to have a good mental picture of where everything was, so he generally didn;t need help -- though he took things slower than he had when he could see. Occasionally he would lose his bearings. When that happened, he would sit down and meow very loudly until someone came and carried him to some familiar point. We stared calling that "resetting the cat." I was once on a work meeting, when someone made a suggestion. At that moment Cream, who was in my office, decided he wanted help and yowled particularly loudly. The guy who had made the suggestion quipped "I guess someone thinks that's a bad idea." Cream yowled again. I had to sheepishly excuse myself with "Sorry. Gotta reset the cat." I suppose I should have been on mute.

It's painful to lose a beloved pet, especially when you have to make the decision, which leaves you open to second-guessing. But I am very glad that Sharon had a cat**. And I'm particularly happy that Cream picked her. Cream was a great cat.

We loved you, Cream.

____________________

*That was Morgan. We got him used. He was about 12, and had spent most of his life as a lap cat for an elderly lady. Her last words, spoken to her husband, were "Take care of Morgan." The husband did his best, but couldn't hack it. So Morgan bounced from home to home. Eventually we answered an ad in Freecycle, and adopted him. We had him for the last year or so of his life.

**Which should not be read to imply that she won't have another

roger adam cohen, rip

My brother-in-law, Roger, had been suffering from a chronic health condition for nearly two decades. During that time it was largely manageable. It turned acute last month, and he was hospitalized. Though he was released, he was not out of the woods. So, while it was shocking, it wasn't altogether surprising that he passed away on Sunday night.

As we plan the funeral -- which will most likely be this Sunday* -- we are experiencing a wide range of emotions. These include pain pain, disbelief and shock. I feel bad for the kids, who are trying to process the raw emotions. We are getting used to it, but it's hard to assuage their grief.

My best time with Roger was during the Superstorm Sandy emergency of 2012. Hal (Roger's father) and Roger's home in Westchester was uninhabitable, so they relocated to our house. Roger and I fell into enjoying a nightly walk to one of the local Chinese takeaways. Very few people could ever make me laugh the way Roger did on those outings, and I will remember them for the rest of my life.

But it was hard to get to know Roger, as he was a very private person. But I do know that he was intensely loyal to those he loved. This is evidenced by the devotion he showed  Hal, during the latter's last years. Roger largely gave up his life in order to make sure Hal could live out his final years in his house. Roger was Hal's full-service staff, making sure his needs were met.

But I choose to remember Roger at the indoor playspace in Rohnert Park, when he was hanging out with my family, being a brother, a brother-in-law, and the best damn uncle he could be.

Rest in peace, brother.

________________________________

*I realize this is not in keeping with Jewish law, but Blair and I are not very religious, and neither was Roger. There are other considerations for us -- notably allowing Roger's beloved partner, Tim, to get to New York and be here for the burial.

tax return blues

This year, for the first time, Ethan had to file a tax return. No biggie. The accountant who does Blair's and my return was only too happy to add on Ethan's return. For a small fee, of course. It was a simple return which he filed in late March, and Ethan had refunds due to him from both the IRS and New York State.

The IRS duly sent him his refund. But he still hasn't gotten his state refund. When he looked online, he learned that the state has some questions about his return, and has sent him a letter indicating as much. We can't seem to get any more information from the state's website, which is very user unfriendly.

So we just have to wait.

Meanwhile, we can agonize over the pending questions. Like these folks:

goodbye blue bay, hello landmark

Since the autumn of 2019*, Sharon and I have been having breakfast together every Saturday. I wrote about the start of that tradition here. We tried a variety of ways to have our breakfasts, but eventually found ourselves with a regular routine -- the nearby Blue Bay Diner. More exactly, because of COVID, the tent outside of the Blue Bay Diner. For months that's been our regular.

The biggest problem has been the cold. They have heaters in the tent, but on particularly cold days it gets uncomfortable. So last Saturday, with threatened lows, we decided to go into Nassau County (where indoor dining is allowed) and the Landmark Diner. I'm not sure why I picked the Landmark, except that I have vague memories of being there before, and I have no negative associations with it. So off we went, figuring that this was a temporary change of routine -- that when there was warmer weather again, we'd be back at the Blue Bay.

But it doesn't look like that's how it'll be. We agreed that the food was better. And as we ate our meal, we both kind of came to the realization that we want to go back. Sharon particularly noted that there are a bunch of menu items she'd like to try. I'd be happy to keep getting the burger week after week, but we'll see. While we're at it, I noticed that the prices were slightly better. I guess I also liked being able to eat indoors, but that's something that's really out of Blue Bay's control.

It's Friday night as I write this, and Sharon and I are planning to go back to Landmark tomorrow morning. And I feel kind of sad about it. I've actually been feeling sad about it all week. I know I shouldn't. If one business provides a better product, I go to that business. So I've been trying to figure out why this change bothers me.

But I think Blair got it. The Blue Bay isn't just another restaurant to me. It's practically a landmark (hah! I just noticed what I did there!). And it has a special place in my memory. When I was a kid, my maternal grandparents lived in the Pittsburgh area. They'd visit us once or twice a year. And one highlight of each visit was a dinner at the Blue Bay Diner. Young me thought the Blue Bay was a fancy restaurant. By abandoning it for the Landmark, I may be turning my back on a piece of my childhood.

And that makes me sad. But the burgers at the Landmark...

_____________________________
*Originally I typed 1989. I don't know why.

the pastrami shirt

First, a shameless plug. You can go to Sharon's Zazzle store to buy the shirts discussed here.

A couple years ago -- I'm not sure how many -- I asked Sharon if she could draw a pastrami sandwich for us to make pastrami-themed T-shirts. I had ideas for what the shirts should say, but lacked the artistic skills to create the shirts that my mind was envisioning.

It took a long time to get things going.

Sharon was interested in the challenge, but it was hard for me to explain what was in my head as the iconic pastrami sandwich picture. It had to be an overstuffed sandwich on rye bread. Cut in half, with both halves facing the viewer. And the top slice of bread has to be sort of arched because of the meat below it. It was really hard to convey what was in my brain. Eventually, we started googling "pastrami sandwich" and we found some pictures that looked pretty close. But Sharon was having trouble drawing a sandwich that she felt was good enough. I thought several of her pictures were plenty fine, but she was unhappy with them.

Eventually, I asked if she could take an actual picture and use software tools to turn it into a drawing. She liked that idea. But then there was another issue. It didn't seem like a good idea to start with someone else's picture and use it for a T-shirt design that she would sell. Even if she digitally altered the picture, it seemed to me that this would present an ethical problem, and probably a legal one as well. Admittedly, it seemed like a remote possibility that it would cause us problems. But, still...

Fortunately, I hit on a better idea. We could buy a pastrami sandwich at Sarge's and take pictures of it. Then she could work with the pictures. No copyright issue. No concern ethics. Of course, someone would have to eat the sandwich, but that was a sacrifice I was willing to make.

Even with all that, it took a while before everything was done. This wasn't exactly Sharon's top priority. She's a teenage girl who's into drawing animals. I don't really believe she was greatly enthused about drawing deli meats for her middle-aged father. But she did it eventually. I think one thing that helped encourage her was when her friend started selling mugs online with one of her drawings. It wasn't pastrami -- it was a drog. I guess it helped when she saw how easy it is.

So now she has her Zazzle store with three different pastrami T-shirts. And one drog. Next I'll see if I can get her to add T-shirts with math jokes on them. 

on cow drawings and cheese

TL/DR: Sharon drew a cute calf for Cabot. 

Blair and Ethan were popping into the supermarket to get some things. I asked for Muenster cheese. I should note here that I'm the only one in the house who likes Muenster cheese.

"This one doesn't have good cheese," Ethan told me.

I started to say that I'll be fine with whatever they have, but Blair beat me to it. "They have stuff that's good enough for Aba," she told him. After 21 years of marriage, the lady knows me.

And the next morning, I grabbed a couple slices of cheese just before starting work. And it was...well, I wouldn't say "inedible." I mean, it'd be disingenuous to say that it was inedible, because I did end up eating the whole package over the course of a few days. But it did taste kind of bad -- in a "thank God I finished that so I don't have to eat anymore, because there are starving kids in <fill in place where kids are starving>" sort of way.

So I learned that some brands of cheese don;t taste as good as others. I should have known. And the fact is I've gotten spoiled by Blair and Ethan's taste in food. I grumble that they buy stuff that's more expensive than what I used to buy for myself when I was single. So, yes...Fiji water tastes better than Poland Spring which tastes better than tap. And some brands (e.g., Organic Valley) make better cheese than other brands (e.g., Borden).

And, while we're on the topic of cheese, another really good brand is Cabot, which brings me to what was originally going to be the topic of this post. Yeah, I can go off on tangents when I really get going.

So, Cabot has some kind of contest going on to draw a cow for them. I don't know if it's for their logo or not, or if it's just to get attention. I don't know if there's a prize. I know nothing, except that Sharon entered with the cow picture shown at the top of this post.

I asked her to text me her picture so I could see it. When I saw it, I tried to respond with "cool." But with my fat fingers, it came up as "cook." Which, with my meat-eating ways, did not appear to be a simple typo.

Sharon's response was "Don't cook him."

Ever-observant, I made a correction. "Her."

I hope she wins, but even if she doesn't, I like the drawing. And I don't like Borden's Muenster cheese.

monday art break -- hammond and his mech

Well, the title of this post kind of gave it away. This is a sample of Sharon's Overwatch fan art. Overwatch, by way of background, is a videogame that Sharon plays. Or did play -- I'm not sure, since it sounds like she's not as into it as she used to be. She does (or did) manage a team, and had to spend a lot of time with them, prepping for matches and then reviewing their performance.

Anyway, one of the cutest characters is Hammond. He's a vicious hamster who spends most of his time in a mechanical weaponized ball. And this is a drawing that Sharon made of him.

monday art break -- cream's better nature

I found this drawing on Sharon's Instagram page. Is she trying to guess at Cream's nature?

monday art break -- wiglaf

I used to have a cat named Wiglaf. For a little over a year anyway.

The picture accompanying this post is a portrait Sharon drew. It's based on a photo of Wiglaf sleeping on the papers on my desk. When Sharon started selling her artistic wares via fiverr (please check out her account), I thought about commissioning a picture. But she offered to do it as a birthday gift.

We got Wiglaf as a kitten from the breeder that we got our other cats from. Wiglaf was a mix -- half Maine Coon and half British Shorthair. His parents managed to get together despite the breeder trying to keep the Maine Coons separate from the Brits.

The breeder was bringing a few kittens for Asher to choose from. He was picking his second cat after Spiderman died. As soon as I saw Wiglaf (the breeder had named him Simon) I was in love. I wanted Asher to pick him. But for some reason, Asher was taken with Alvin -- which we renamed 18. I was disappointed, but this was to be Asher's cat, so we let him pick the cat he wanted. Ethan and Sharon managed to talk me into getting the cat I wanted as well.

Early on, Wiglaf had his share of health problems. He would go into sneezing fits. One. two. three...up to a dozen or more sneezes in quick succession. And by the time he was done, he'd have given himself a bloody nose. Also, shortly after we got him he seemed to have an ear infection. The vet told us he had a ruptured eardrum. Just great. The vet said he'd recover, though he was likely to be subject to illness. I asked if he was likely to just have one health problem after another. If life with him would mean a never-ending stream of worry and veterinary bills I would bring him back to the breeder before I got too attached. But if we could expect him to have a happy, relatively healthy (even if short) life, then I could deal with it.

The health problems cleared up, but they left their mark. Wiglaf never could walk straight or meow. He'd look at me, and move his mouth as if he was meowing, and no sound came out. And he loved the cold. During the winter we had to be careful opening the front door because he was always trying (sometimes successfully) to get out. But there was one time, when we had a deep snow, he shot out the door right into a snowdrift. A second later he strutted out  and back to the door looking immensely pleased with himself. Ethan picked him up and tossed him into the snow. He disappeared beneath the surface, but quickly came out and ran back to Ethan. Ethan threw him again, and again he came back. They played this tossing game for a half hour or so, until he had had enough and went inside.

Wiglaf quickly caught on that I was his person. He would spend his nights in bed next to me. And when I worked from home he would sleep on the papers on my desk -- hence the photo that served as the basis for the illustration above. He was fine with the rest of the humans in the family, but never as close. And he was a terror for the other cats. He was very food oriented, and wanted all the food in the bowls for himself. But he didn't simply eat it. When there was fresh food, he'd go to the kitchen and wait in ambush. When another cat came by, he would pounce. Only after another cat ran away he would eat. Blair would have to hold him back so that Cream (the blind, deaf one) wouldn't starve.

Wiglaf would, occasionally, get out and stay away for a few days. But he always came back -- until he didn't.

I miss Wiggy.

monday art break -- mousecow

In her art, Sharon likes to concentrate on animals. One way she's practiced is creating combination animals. Apparently there's a website that will help with this. It gives you two animal pictures (chosen at random from it's ginormous library), and you then create a picture of a hybrid between the two. Exactly how you combine the two is entirely up to you.

This picture is but one example -- a combination of a cow and a field mouse. It kind of reminds me of the rat creatures from Jeff Smith's Bone books.

sharon the tat artist

Time to daddybrag.

Sharon has started taking commissions for her artwork. So far, she's been designing tattoos for members of her Overwatch team.

My understanding is that it started with a teammate seeing a drawing she made of an Overwatch logo. He had been planning to get an Overwatch tattoo and asked if he could use it as a tatoo.

Somehow it went from there. Another teammate ios really into Hammond, who's a character in Overwatch, and asked her to design a Hammond tattoo for him. She started with a few concepts showing different aspects to Hammond's nature. The one's shown in this post represent her closing in on what he wants. In addition, his mother is a domestic abuse survivor and wants a tattoo based around the "True love shouldn't hurt" slogan. Sharon's been working on concept drawings for that.

In all cases, I apologize for the low-res nature of the images I am including with this post.

In fairness, I'm not really pro-tattoo. I would be unhappy about it if any of my kids were to get tattoos -- though I acknowledge that, once they're 18 it's their decision. And, on that note, if her teammate and his mother want tattoos that's their business. And if Sharon's art is good enough that they want it permanently inked into their skin, then I can't help but being proud.

life during strangetime

The contrasts of life right now feel like an insane collision joy and pain. Living in gratitude and love with my husband has been rejuvenating to my soul and spirit, as well as healing to my body. At the same time, the hourly obituaries of loved ones is devastating beyond belief, creating an emotional wave of debilitating weakness. Balance is impossible to attain, and the rollercoaster ride of current daily life is fucking exhausting.

And somehow, we carry on. We must. Sending love and healing prayers to anyone kind enough to read these words. We will find the energy to smile and laugh tomorrow. Again, we must.

-- Larry Flick

Living in New York, the American epicenter of the Coronavirus epidemic, I find that the strangest thing is the split personality of the emergency.

In some ways there's a real sense of urgency. I know a lot of people who contracted COVID-19, and a few who have died from it. I know some people, including family, who are immunocompromised and I particularly worry about them. If I think about it too much, I get numb and need to joke to distract myself. We avoid going anywhere, though there are occasional trips -- mostly to the supermarket or the drugstore. And when we do go out, we're sure to have masks and gloves. I have heard that Elmhurst Hospital has been overwhelmed. And I have heard stories of the city buying large numbers of body bags, of potential shortages of ventilators, and of medical personnel having to decide who gets life saving care and who doesn't. These stories are anecdotal, so it's unclear what's really going on. And that is scary. Any time I cough, I grab for a bottle of essential oil or bleach or something, anything, with a strong scent to reassure myself that I still have my sense of smell.

On the other hand, there are some ways that things seem oddly casual. Since we live in a relatively suburban part of New York, I can look out the window and things look normal. Blair was in our yard the other day and saw a neighbor washing his car. His kids were with him and they were all having fun. He told her (yes, they were at a respectable distance) that he tested positive and he's in quarantine. But it's not a big deal. Lots of folks in the neighborhood have it, he told her.

Somewhere between the extremes of hair-raising panic and shoulder-shrugging casualness is the reality of our occasional trips out. We need groceries, and so we go to the Supermarket. Sometimes we need some individual item, and go to the drug store or even a bakery. Sharon and I used to go out to breakfast every Saturday for some much-needed father-daughter bonding. We can't eat at restaurants anymore, but we can get take-out and then sit at home watching a movie on Netflix. And on these trips we make sure to wear masks and gloves when we leave the car, and it feels as if we're in a zombie movie, trying to keep a reasonable distance from strangers, and always being on the lookout -- though I'm not sure exactly what we're looking out for. We sometimes have to wait in line before entering a store because they are limiting the number of customers that can be inside at once. And on line for the cashier we have to stay away from the people in front of us in line. Far enough away that it would look comical in normal times. Still and all, Sharon and I manage to have our weekly breakfast together. And we can mostly get whatever groceries we want. And we can get our cat the medicine he needs. And I had no trouble (OK, a little trouble) getting a black and white cookie for Frank Gorshin's birthday. All of those things are luxuries that many people in the world don't have even in the best of times.

Until last summer I worked at home part time. It was a luxury. I did it for ten years before my company decided that too much collaboration and camaraderie was lost when too many people work from home on a regular basis. As of last summer we ended the work-from-home arrangements and all came back to the office. So now we're back at home. All of us. Full time. Until further notice. But this isn't a luxury. This feels like exile. Still, I have to remember that I'm fortunate. I know many people who can't work from home. Some of them are deemed essential and need to go to work and face the public. Others have lost employment. And I have friends who rely on gigs. They get paid for public speaking -- a market which has dried up. So, for now I'm fortunate that my paycheck hasn't been affected. Yet. There are no guarantees that that will last.

And when the home feels like a prison, I have to remember that the cage is gilded. I am sitting here on a computer writing a blogpost as a recreational activity. I can watch videos. I can listen to music. I can read books and do puzzles. I can go out in my garden and enjoy the flowers that are coming up. And I am sharing this prison with my wife and children -- the most important people in my life. And, as far as we can tell, we're still all healthy.

Knock on wood, and stay safe and well.

now we're in a doc

Just over a week ago I posted about the movie Being, since I can be seen in it. If you know when to look. If you know where to look. If you don't blink.

Well, now it's Ethan's turn. And, to a lesser degree, Asher's turn. And even my turn again. Anthony Desiato, a long-time comic book afficianado who cherishes the time he spent working at a comic book shop in Westchester, has directed a documentary called My Comic Shop Nation. At various times, Ethan, Asher and I are visible onscreen, though sadly none of us talk onscreen. I have included screenshots at the end of this post.

The documentary is, generally, about comic book shops -- how they are similar, how they are different, what makes them tick. It seems to be a kind of celluloid therapy for Desiato. He used to work at Alternate Realities in Westchester until it closed. He clearly misses that shop and the social scene is represented. To make the documentary, he traveled the country, visiting 20 shops and interviewing the owners, staff and customers.

The boys and I ended up in the doc because we were at Escape Pod Comics in Huntington. It was one of the featured shops, and owner, Menachem Luchins, spent some time talking about his business on camera.

I was most interested in hearing what Menachem had to say, since my family are customers of his. It's fascinating to hear him talk about getting to know the customers and what they like and don't like. It was interesting to hear him describe in words the kind of customer service that I've seen so much of. My family and I only go to his shop a few times a year, but he every time we come in he has recommendations for us. And he's usually spot on. What's also nice is being able to wander the store and ask him about anything that catches my eye. He'll take time to describe plots and styles, and opine as to whether he thinks I (or any other specific member of the family) would like something.

But aside from my personal interest in Menachem's shop, I think that Desiato has spun together a really compelling picture of a niche industry that's struggling in the age of mass-marketing and internet buying.

And, before I get to the screen shots from the film, I note that, in Ethan and I are each visible for a fraction of a second in the trailer, which is embedded above.

Now can I get listed on IMDB?

The screenshots:

Ethan listens to Menachem:

Ethan and Asher are visible in the lower left corner:

 Ethan is getting something from Menachem, as I can be seen in the background:

I listen to Menachem:

I listen to Menachem, while Ethan and Asher are also visible:

one night in fulnek

Our hosts' garden

Our hosts

In our recent trip to Europe, we had the good fortune to spend a night in Fulnek, a town in the Eastern part of the Czech Republic. For the most part we were staying in Prague, as we were visiting our friend, Eliska. But her parents live in Fulnek so off we went to visit. Actually, Blair had two nights in Fulnek. I had only one, as I spent one night on a bus ride from Brussels to Prague. Ethan and Sharon were in Fulnek that first night (when Asher and I were on the bus). The second night they were in Ostrava with Jonas, who's been one of Sharon's online friends for years.

Eliska's parents were incredibly welcoming, and we really enjoyed our time in the countryside.

One amazing thing was their yard. Apparently they had a ladnscape architect come in and design a garden about twenty years ago. And since then they haven't had to weed or replant. All they do is mow the grass and trim the shrubs. I'm not good at identifying plants, but I did recognize some daylilies, iris, hostas, shasta daisies and clematis. Sadly I couldn't tell what specific cultivars there were of each of those, but it was a really beautiful yard. And Asher was particularly excited to see a nest with baby birds in one of the trees. And almost maintenance free.

In the morning, Eliska took us for a walk in the woods outside of town, where we got to see Fulnek Castle. And then a little drink at a local cafe before the "dumpling train" back to a bigger town (I forget which) so we could go back to Prague.

The trip back to Prague begins

in which my name races my sister's name to the presidency

With the national prominence of Senator Amy Klobuchar, and her entrance as an A-list candidate in the race for the Democratic presidential nomination in 2020, I have come to the realization that we are now more likely than not to have a president named Amy (i.e., one who shares my sister's first name) before we have a president named Marc (i.e., one who shares my first name).

For whatever that matters.

If you had asked me when I was a kid, which we'd have first -- a president named Marc or a president named Amy -- I probably would have said Marc. While we knew that women could be president, it never seemed like an imminent possibility. Things are different now. Hillary Clinton almost won in 2016, and there are several women with credible chances of getting the Democratic party nomination next year -- Elizabeth Warren, Kamala Harris and Kirsten Gillibrand come to mind (aside from Klobuchar), and they're not the only ones. But more to the point, there is actually a serious candidate named Amy running for the nomination. I can't think of any contender named Marc. I guess there's Mark Zuckerberg, but he's not a serious candidate -- and his name is not the same as mine (even though it's pronounced the same*)

If Klobuchar wins the nomination and then wins the general, then that's it. The name Amy beats the name Marc to the presidency. Game over.

If Klobuchar doesn't get the nomination, then she remains a credible candidate for  2024 or 2028 (depending on how 2020 goes), and "Amy" has to remain favored to get to the presidency before "Marc."

But if Klobuchar gets the 2020 nomination and loses? Then she is no longer a credible candidate for the future. So in that event, which name is more likely to get to the white house first?

Short answer: I have no friggin' clue. To figure that out, I'd probably need the following:

• How many boys and girls were born each of those years
• Number of boys named Marc and girls named Amy born each of those years
• Relevant sex-distinct mortality tables
• Some model of the relative likelihood of a male or female being elected
• A probability distribution of age at election
• Some way of projecting these statistics in the future

And that's just to start. To refine the estimate, you'd probably want to have those numbers refined by certain demographic groups -- and estimate prospective likelihoods of members of those demographic groups getting elected. Yeah, I think I'll pass on that project.

*That has long been one of my big bugaboos.

at the dmv -- number problems

So we spent a few hours at the DMV yesterday in order to get state IDs for the kids. Thrills, thrills...

But the fact is, the DMV is not nearly as bad as it used to be. The experience is much improved, but there's still more that can be done. And that's the point of this post.

I remember the olden days. You went to the DMV and started in one long line. When you got to the front of the line you told someone what you wanted to do, and that person directed you to the appropriate line for that action. So you could literally spend hours waiting on line.

There are two big improvements since those days.

The first is that that first line has been replaced with multiple lines, cutting the wait time down -- like a supermarket going from one cashier to several.

The second improvement is that time spent on the second line has been replaced by time spent sitting. At the end of the first line, the clerk gives you a ticket with a letter followed by a number (ours was B362). You sit and wait as codes are called and windows indicated "E481, please go to window 13." The letter prefixes each indicate a certain small set of actions. "B" indicated applying for a new permit, license or ID. "E" indicated returning old license plates, etc.

It's all much better. The one big area that can be improved involves the assigned number ranges. The problem is that numbers are assigned in a Bingo-like way -- each letter has its own range of numbers, presumably to avoid confusion. So, for example, there are only 50 B's -- B325 through B374. When they run out of numbers, they start over again. That would work well on a slow day. But on a crowded day like yesterday, customers (do you call the "customers"? come in faster than they get processed. By the time our number was called, there was already another B362 issued. So at our window the clerk had to compare timestamps to determine who is the real next B362. To make matters worse, it's a two-step process. So after the first clerk performed the first processing of the applications, we had to sit down and wait for our number to get called again to go another window for final processing and payment. By this point there was another B362, so whenever the number was called, we had to converge at the window to find out which one of us was being called.

This could easily be mitigated by increasing the range of B-numbers -- actually by changing all the ranges. Their system has room for three numerical digits after the letter prefix. So everything should start with 000 (e.g., B000) and run through 999. Yeah, there may be some confusion, as they call B051 and have people with C051 and W051 coming to the window. But I think that extra confusion is easier to deal with than having multiple people with the same number all converging on a window.

no frickin' clue...

Last night, Sharon's Overwatch team had a match that was broadcast on Twitch. It was part of the Owlet Tournament. In case you want to watch, the video is on Twitch.

The most salient facts? Sharon is an Off-Tank for Team Verdant. Their opponent was Gucci Gank. Oh, and they got their butts handed to them. It didn't help that one of the players had to leave during the match, and the replacement wasn't actually in a good state to play.

I tried watching, but I really had no frickin' clue what was going on. I was even more confused with this than when I tried watching a cricket match with a friend from England. Anyway, all those characters hopping around on the screen like mice? I had no idea what they were doing. Same with the dragons that sometimes appeared. I would have had no idea who was winning if not for the announcers. But other than that, they didn't really give me any sense of what was going on. Maybe if I was familiar with the game it would have made some sense to me.

I did feel surges of pride whenever I heard the announcers mention Sharon (of course, it was by her screen name, "Gamsha"). Even more so when they complimented the walls she built. I don't know why she was building walls, but since she was, I'm glad they were good walls.*

If I understand things correctly, Team Verdant will be going up against WisdomOW tomorrow night.

*Insert Trump/Mexico joke at your own peril.

nyit opens its new esports arena

Yesterday, Sharon Asher and I attended the ribbon cutting for the new eSports arena on NYIT's Westbury campus.

NYIT is one of the many colleges that, in recent years, have created video game teams, and Sharon has now seen the facilities at a number of them -- UC Berkeley and Columbia College (in Missouri) come to mind. NYIT's team was formed within the last couple of years. It was founded by Elieser Duran (class of 2017), who still runs the team -- cleverly dubbed the CyBears (in contrast to the school's traditional teams, which are the Bears). I'd also be remiss if I failed to note that the CyBears recently won the East Coast Conference's Overwatch championship

This CyBears' new arena includes a room off the library with 14 computers, and another room where spectators can watch the game onscreen. Duran did mention to me that there are plans for a bigger arena with forty computers.

Duran offered that Sharon can come back and see the facilities, and maybe interact with the student players at a future date.

ethan's essay has unexpected meaning

A family friend issued a writing challenge to Ethan. Now they take turns picking topics, and each one writes an essay. The friend, a former teacher, grades Ethan's essays.

The current question is whether President Truman was justified in using nuclear weapons against Japan in World War II.

Ethan's essay is here.

The day after Ethan posted it, he and I went to visit my mother in Atlanta. Talking about family history, mom mentioned that her father, born in 1914, had been exempted from the draft during World War II because he had a family. By the summer of 1945 that had changed. With the military planning an invasion of Japan, grandpa was expecting to be drafted and go off to war. But the bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki altered the course of events.

So the topic has unexpected immediacy for me.

sharon and yunhee's great adventure

The girls with Micah from Australia

First, an admission: I don't understand Overwatch. To me it's a bunch of blinky lights on a computer screen. But Sharon and her friend, Yunhee, love it. I'm not sure how long they've been playing it -- at some point they graduated from Minecraft. At this point they're on teams -- Sharon's the captain of her team, which means that she has to schedule practices and scrimmages (against other teams). And she's had to deal with unpleasant tasks like recommending to the coach that someone be removed from the team.

Yeah, video games are team activities with positions and everything. Sharon plays "off-tank." Other positions include "DPS," "healer" and "main tank." As with baseball or football, the different positions do different things. And they play their games, each player in his or her (but usually his) own locations. This is nothing like the videogames -- Asteroids, Donkey Kong, Galaxian -- that were around when I was younger and had to pay a quarter for every game. And it's all possible because of the internet.

And somehow this is getting to be a big time sport. It still has the fan friendliness of minor league baseball, but it's getting lots of coverage in the media.

Anyway, Sharon and Yunhee have been in tournaments at Microsoft's flagship store in Manhattan (and won some money at it). This past summer they were at a videogame camp in Missouri. But this past weekend they were in California for BlizzCon, which apparently has a heavy emphasis on Overwatch. And that was after spending the weekend before at TwitchCon.

With members of the San Francisco Shock
Note the girls are wearing jerseys for the New York Excelsior

At Twitchcon they were in computer-building contests (Sharon's team would have won if not for the fact that one of her teammates broke one of the parts), and got tours of Berkeley's e-sports* complex, and met with the coach and several players on the school's Overwatch team.

I don't quite know how it works, but somehow they became some kind of minor celebrities. Two cute teenage girls who are good at the game, and have the support and encouragement of their moms -- Blair was there as were Yunhee's parents. That attracted attention. By the time TwitchCon was over, they had been contacted by all sorts of big shots from the Overwatch world. They all wanted meet these two girl gamers. At BlizzCon the girls met players, coaches, general managers and owners, big-time streamers. And, of course, the President of Blizzard Entertainment. They were hobnobbing with the big shots, and have already gotten invitations to get the full VIP treatment next year.

computer-building contest

Funny thing -- maybe I shouldn't be thinking along these lines, but if we were still working with a certain red-shirted charity, we would have been giving them lots of great exposure. But, well, that's the way the game goes.

Anyway,  as a father I'm torn about where I hope this goes. Could Sharon turn pro? Could she parlay her abilities into a scholarship? I guess we'll see...

One other thing -- and this was bad for my diet -- the girls brought back sample boxes of the soon-to-be-released Lucio-Oh's cereal (from Kellogg's). It's sort of like Froot Loops or Apple Jack's, only vanilla-flavored.

*Yeah, I'm having trouble wrapping my head around "e-sports" as a concept being treated as a sport, not to mention the fact that major high-status schools offer scholarships in it.